let me weep over these two

Adorable Jerks + Bonus Chat

Pairing: Sam x f!Reader

Request:

Could you do a Sam x reader where the reader and sam just constantly tease bucky and Scott (maybe with the use of memes)


Sam has created a chatroom.

Sam has added Y/N, Bucky, Scott.

Scott: Hi! :) How are you two?

Bucky: what is this

Bucky: what do you two want

You: HE PROTEC

You:

Sam: BUT HE ALSO ATTAC

Sam:

Bucky: S T O P

Scott: I have one question, that really needs to be answered: How did you get pictures of those events?

You: A tech genius never reveals the fairly obvious answer.

Sam:

Sam: when you see an insect

You:

You: when the insect sees you

Bucky: You think you’re so funny :(

Bucky: Well you are but whatever :(

You: thank you snape? ◔̯◔

Keep reading

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Six)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?

Craigh Na Dun

I brought a heart into the room

     but from the room I carried none with me.

No, I chided silently, staring around the pitiful shack, blank. I had left with a heart: I’d left with Bree, the love of my second life, and that little heart had kept me tethered to life until I’d found myself again.

….but the heart with which I’d entered? That was no more.  

They were still here, watching me from the damp, dark corners of the cottage: the fragments. I could feel them. Aching. 

Yes, this is where you left us. You made it out, but we remained. Here we shall remain, now that…

Now. 

My body was a no-man’s land. On the one side, grief: staggering in detail…unending…ripping me to shreds with every breath; on the other, utter nothingness: numbed oblivion…the absence of anything human. One force would rise up to charge, emboldened, and then be summarily routed, annihilated. The process would reverse and repeat over and over, leaving nothing but a throbbing, bleeding stalemate between. Mutually-Assured Destruction. 

I closed my eyes and swayed, my arms limp at my sides, a finger searching for the mark at the base of my thumb.

‘I want to take away your touch with me.’ 

A past me had said that, here within these walls.

 ‘…to have something of you that will stay with me always.’

‘Always.’ 

Only, nothing was ‘always.’ Not even that. 

True, I could see it, still, the faintest of white lines forming the letter J; but any palpable scar had vanished into the smooth landscape of the skin. 

Strange: I had never once allowed myself to acknowledge that fact. Doing so now—It plunged me into a cold, chill darkness, where only my terror was heard. Over the years, as I felt it fade, and fade, and fade, I had let myself cling to the fantasy of ‘always’; had permitted myself to never actually touch the spot, nor look at it—only to tell myself it was there, to cling to the safety and comfort of this one, tiny delusion. Yet, the cruel reality was that Jamie’s last touch was now no more than a photograph: a single moment in time, captured in the record, visible, but with no dimension. An image. A hint at a memory. 

Jesus H, Christ, but it’s the *memory* that matters, Beauchamp, so stop being foolish. You’re a physician, damn you: you should know better than anyone that scars are *supposed* to heal. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the memory. 

Yes, the body, so perfectly adapted to regenerate and prolong us, will do everything in its power to erase the imperfections life inflicts upon it. The platelets will descend; the threads of fibrin will lash and bind; the white blood cells will attack infection at the breach, keeping the small hurt from becoming fatal. It is how we—physically, fundamentallygo on. 

The body cannot comprehend that its healing power, that very erasure, is a wound in and of itself; that our hurts and imperfections might be nothing less than our deepest desire; that even pain—

‘…I don’t care if it hurts; nothing could hurt more than leaving you.’

“Wrong again, Beauchamp,” I whispered, my voice catching. This could hurt more. Leaving him again, half our lives gone; facing the remaining half alone….and that, after rising from loneliness up to a great peak of hope—only to—

But you know he’s alive, this time, Beauchamp. You know he’s happy! You know he’s going to live to be an old man, perhaps to see his grandchildren. For Pete’s sake, you maudlin creature, surely you can agree that that fact makes this day far better than the eve of Culloden. 

Yes. Better.

….but I didn’t expect to endure anything of the like again. 

But now you *shall* endure it, Beauchamp. Now, you move on. 

‘Move on?’ How?…. I can’t even move from this spot.

I blinked hard up at the ceiling, fists and teeth clenched, tears falling. “Damn you, Jamie, how did you bloody do this?”

He’d been so brave—so fucking brave in those final hours under this roof. He’d known that he must send me away, must do so because it was the best chance for me, for our child. He’d touched me; roused me; smiled for me; reassured me; joked and laughed, even, as best he could. He had been strong and HIMSELF, to the end. 

And here I was — twenty-odd years later, leaving by the very same route for his sake, for his chance for a good and happy existence, just as genuinely assured in my conviction as he—falling apart.

How had he remained in one piece? How the bloody hell had he managed to say goodbye without even shedding a tear, damn him

‘I would sleep once more this way—holding you, holding the babe.’

Because he had known for a fact that he would die the next morning. He wouldn’t have to live with that emptiness, with a broken heart, or so he had supposed; and so he’d kept his tears at bay because he knew I would. I had to go on, and so he’d rallied for my sake, presented himself to me as a man calm and at peace, so as not to make my task—my grief, the reality that I would have to be the one to walk away forever—any more excruciating than it already was.

So brave. Strong.  

I would do the same for you, Jamie, if it fell to me. I hope I could be strong for you. 

But if there were any grace that had been granted to me, in this final, broken chapter of our story, it was that I was spared having to look my love in the eye as I gave him up to a better life;

that I, at least, could let my tears fall freely. 


A sudden draft stirred my flimsy skirt, bringing me sharply to awareness. I shivered against the frigid air, mindful through my disorientation of how sharply my knees ached. The light outside had shifted since I entered the cottage. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only the dim grey-pink of November twilight. 

Time, Beauchamp. Walk out the door. Only a quick walk up the hill, and it’s over. No sense in prolonging it any further. 

It was time; and I found myself moving with purpose, though not toward the door.

There, at the back wall, in that opening where the boards had long since fallen away, I stood, silent and still. Snowflakes—scattered, sporadic— brushed my cheeks, but I paid them no heed.

The very last place I’d seen him; felt his touch; felt him within me.

The damp, rotten wood felt so soft and smooth under my bare palm. Warm. Living. 

‘Name him Brian…for my father.’ 

“Come find me, will you?” I whispered to the wind, forcing a smile. “When we’re both gone into what comes after, c—” 

My throat closed. 

I pictured seeing the outline of a tall, etherial figure, in that after-place…and seeing his arm circle around the waist of a small woman; the both of them stretching their arms out toward two little girls, running to them. 

Would he even see me? 

And yet…

‘I will find you….

I promise.’ 

“I shall hold you to it, Jamie Fraser.” I rubbed my thumb once over the plank.  “Til then, my love.


It was a much more strenuous climb than I remembered. The icy, twilight air stung my lungs as I gulped it down, the burning in my muscles only heightening the sensations of grief, of panic, of regret, and loss. I wanted to let myself fall, there on the slope, and weep, just sleep until I vanished into nothing. 

But the thought of Bree’s face kept me going up that hill, step after aching step.

You’ll see her, soon. 

Only a hundred yards more.

You’d prepared yourself to never see her again, and now you’ll have years and years

Fifty to go.

Just think of the surprise on her face.

Twenty-five.

Think of how relieved she’ll—

“C L A I R E !”


My heart stopped.

I swear, it actually

STOPPED.


sailorcrazypinklady  asked:

So, in that Omega!Obi-Wan is randomly pregnant shot: "They had to convince Obi-Wan to return with them to the temple." Do they? Why do they think they need to? What happens when they get there? How does Anakin take everything? Where in this world is Padme? How does Qui-Gon Feel? And Yoda? What will Mace do? TELL ME ALL THE THINGS PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I said no.” Obi-Wan said strongly, moving towards the platforms to find his next ride off the planet with his bag on his shoulder.

“Please, do reconsider, you are in a fragile state an-”

“I am not carrying a spare chosen one. I’m not an incubator.” Obi-Wan came to a sharp stop and turned to glare at Qui-Gon, green eyes narrowed. “I left the cores at thirteen because I found out that the Jedi temple didn’t care about the wishes and desires of the ones they had taught. I would have made one hell of a Jedi knight, yet no master or knight took me on, everyone looked past me as if I was…” He pursed his lips then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I made a life for myself.”

Anakin glanced between the two then stepped forward. “Ser Kenobi, I know that you don’t want to return. But please listen to me, this is your child we’re talking about.”

Obi-Wan focused on him instead of the older master, brows slightly furrowed. “Lets say I will listen, what are you going to tell me that would make me change my mind?”

“Medical aid for you and your child. You can’t tell me its easy to get what you need out here in the rims. And my mom told me often enough that I was a terror to birth.” Anakin plowed on when the others face tightened up. “What I mean is that a Force pregnancy is hard on the body and the baby. You should consider coming with us for that reason alone.”

“You talk as if I have no money for medical.” Obi-Wan growled quietly, disliking it severely that Anakin was using his pregnancy against him. “I’m a successful ruins researcher, specialized in Force related buildings. I do lectures o-”

“Its not a mention of not having money for medical.” Anakin offered quickly. “But the best. And Vokara Che is the best.”

Obi-Wan looked away, frowning heavily. His hand was fisted white on the strap of his bag.

“I swore never to go back to the Jedi.” Obi-Wan quietly offered. “I was thrown out for nothing less then becoming thirteen. I had every dream I had ever hoped to achieve ripped out for under me with no more explanation then that ‘you’re to old’ given.” He whispered.

Anakin shifted, feeling pressure in the Force.

“I apologize.” Qui-Gon offered.

“And you were my last hope.” Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon then looked away, growling quietly. “I left the cores and made my own future. I became a researcher because knowledge is golden. I made my way through the murkiness that was life and used what I had to create a future…I got myself a stipend and an apprenticeship under professors. Got myself a degree. Protected myself. Me. Alone.” He gritted his teeth.

Then he focused on them again. “I am not going back. They didn’t need me. I don’t need them.” He turned on his heel. “And its a low tactic to use my own child against me.” He marched forward, hailing the fare seller to get himself a ticket off planet.

“…Now what?” Anakin felt…well disappointed was the best word to go with, saying he felt like a part of him was walking way sounded cliche.

“…Now we contact the council about our findings.” Qui-Gon sighed quietly.

()()()
“A Force pregnancy?” Mace Windu looks like he’s fallen of the space shuttle before he gives them a dark frown. “Are you sure? He’s not lying to cover his tracks? One doesn’t have to be mated to carry a child.”

Anakin frowns a bit at the slight against Obi-Wan, or he feels it a slight at least but beside him Qui-Gon shakes his head. “No, he wasn’t lying, that much I know for certain through the Force. Obi-Wan Kenobi is pregnant due to the Force, carrying a child convinced through it just like Anakin once was.”

“And he refuses to return to the temple?” Adi leaned forward, her face open.

Now came the difficult part.

“Yes, he’s…angry at the temple. At the order. He um, that is to say I…”

“Former Initiate Obi-Wan is.” Yoda spoke up, giving everyone a pinched look. “Though he’d one time take my place I did.” He gave Qui-Gon a long look. “To be your padawan he was suppose to and angry he has right to be. Jedi master and knight he would have become.” The old troll huffed. “Wondered where he was I did. Good to know that safe he is at least, and prospered without the Order.” He sighed deeply, sounding all of his 800 years at that moment.

Qui-Gon shifted a bit, uncomfortable with the attention directed at him at that moment.

“Regardless.” Plo spoke up. “Force pregnancy are unprecedented outside of Knight Skywalker’s case. Such a thing would be a case of study if you can convince him to come to the temple.”

“But he doesn’t want to.” Anakin spoke up. “He’s angry and says he wont come and we can’t Force him.”

“Force him you will not have to. Work you can offer him instead.” Yoda rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes!

“Yes, he’s an expert in Force Ruins? He can have a lecture on his findings here at the temple. If anyone would be interested in Force ruins, its Jedi.” Yaddle added.

“It depends on his view of his findings, for all we know they can be heretical.”

“Then it would be a debate and he might bring a fresh point of view.” Plo argued with Mace. “Becoming stagnate is the first step towards destruction.”

“Allocate founds for hiring him I will, find him you two will have to and give him the offer.” Yoda offered seriously.

“It might be hard to convince him.” Qui-Gon offered quietly and the green troll had the audacity to smirk.

“Tell him he can show up Jedi’s. Catch his attention that will.”

()()()

Yoda was right, that did catch Obi-Wan’s attention as he shifted of off his knees and got up, brushing of his pants where he had been digging in the ground near a ruin. “Lecture at the Jedi temple?” He looked surprised.

The long haired master nodded. “Yes, Force ruins are a case of history and considering they are connected to the Force that makes them double interesting to Jedi. I’m sure you understand. We already have funds cleared to offer to you should you agree.” Qui-Gon watched the redhead.

Obi-Wan frowned a bit. “This isn’t just because of my pregnancy, is it?”

“I don’t think so, I think you would have been requested to come eventually but I won’t lie that your pregnancy will most likely be observed while you are at the temple.”

The other pursed his lips and for a moment both Jedi feared it was the wrong thing to say.

“Honesty, alright. I can work with honesty.”

Okay, not the wrong thing to say.

‘Honesty, okay, keep that in mind, he appreciates honesty.’ Anakin put on his mind as they watched the omega mull.

“I set the lecture, no interfering in what I talk about?” He narrowed green eyes at them.

“Well debates are likely, scholars likes to debate.” Anakin shrugged.

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan frowned then sighed, nodding. “Alright, if only to get to debate with Force knowledgeable people. Fine. You mentioned pay?” He looked between them.

“Of course. Master Yoda himself allotted the pay.”

Telling him that was almost worth the way Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in surprise.

And then they couldn’t help but feel a sudden form for jealousy when Obi-Wan actually smiled fondly. “Yoda…should have known.” He chuckled quietly and looked down at his feet before shaking his head. “And I’ll have a place to live?”

“Board and quarters will be provided along with a salary.” Qui-Gon confirmed.

“One of the guest rooms near the knight living quarters I’d imagine.” Obi-Wan muttered and looked around before shrugging. “I can always come back here so, let me pack and I can return with the two of you.”

That was almost to easy.

“…You’re really looking forward to arguing with people aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan sent both alphas an almost savage grin over his shoulders. “Oh I’m going to make you Jedi weep while accepting my findings. Just you wait.”

Foggy (Junkrat/Jamison Fawkes Imagine)

The first thing you felt when you woke up was the dull ache of your ribs, you rolled over with a quiet groan and sucked in a harsh breath of putrid air.

Blinking away the haze of sleep from your eyes, you turned your attention from the ceiling and to your right, where a tall, lanky lump lay sprawled beside you. With a snort, you raised a weak arm to shove at the lump with your elbow to spare yourself some room to get up - you didn’t expect said lump to retaliate by rolling over and catching you in long, lanky yet still somehow muscular arms in a cage.

“Ja - ” you wheezed at the sudden crushing weight that surrounded you, desperately wriggling around on the dirty mattress in an attempt to escape your captor. “Jamie, wake u - oh god,” letting out a loud, erratic fit of laughter, the blonde turned himself onto his back, dragging you with him.

He acted as some sort of half man, half machine hammock that gently swayed back and forth on the thin, yellow mattress, tracing bony fingers against the small of your back gently. You shifted to escape the tickle that Junkrat’s touch was bringing you and he noticed this, smirking softly.

“Somethin’ botherin’ ya, darl’?” He asked mischeviously, and you pressed your hands against the expanse of the junker’s chest, pushing yourself up to face him. “What happened last night?”

Unkempt brows raised at you as you slowly forced yourself into a sitting position, slowly taking in your surroundings. The dirty mattress you had slept on wad entirely unfamiliar, as was the dark, damp room that homed it. With another groan, you forced your back to arch and cringed at that same ache in your ribs.

“Ya don’t remember? I thought you enjoyed yourself, too. Shame, Roadie and I put our backs into last night’s night out.” Jamie sat up with you, arms outstretched and back arched flexibly. “I don’t, but it must’ve been a big night.”

Junkrat frowned, feigning offense as he spoke again, “Breakin’ my heart, sweets. Breakin’ it in two.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved him by the shoulder playfully and turned your back to him, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and inhaling slowly. “Well when you’re done weeping, let me know who busted my ribcage,” you grimaced, lifting your baggy shirt to inspect the damage there.

“D'ya mean, darl? Somethin’ bruised?” Jamison’s tone deepened with concern as he crawled to your back on all fours and rested a cold, metallic hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged softly, twisting yourself at an angle to show your jittery companion the dark blotches lining your stomach and ribs. They curled up your torso and around your back to your shoulders. Junkrat took this opportunity to clutch the fabric of your clothes and rolled it up your back and over your head.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to do that,” you furrowed your brows but allowed him the continue his inspection - not like he’d be able to do much.

You hissed at the blonde as his cold, metallic fingers prodded at your tender flesh carelessly, “Watch it!”

Another fit of giggles was your reply - and as you twisted further to shoot him a glare, you whimpered in pain and your hands flew to clutch at your aching self.

“S'alright, love, we’ll get you wrapped up in no time, c'mon.” Junkrat was quick to take you into his arms and even scolded himself for handling you so roughly. “How did this even happen? It looks like someone used me for target practice.”

The blonde snorted and took a strand of hair between his fingers, toying with it as he aided you out of your shared room and into an equally filthy kitchen. Beer bottles scattered across the dirty tile floor, the stench of sweat, vomit and god knows what else completely filled your head and made you dizzy.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You warned, and Junkrat hummed playfully, “It does smell in here.”

You closed your eyes and tried to swallow the nausea that was creeping up your throat, it felt thick and made your head spin. “Outside,” you said, “quick.”

With that, Jamison dragged you across the room and threw open the sliding door to the balcony and you opened your mouth to thank him. All that came out was a loud groan and the feel of hot stomach acids emptying onto the marble floor and over the balcony into the street below. Your eyes watered furiously as you heaved, the muscles tensing only bringing you more pain.

You didn’t even register the hands on your back, or the soft whispers at your side or even your now sticky with sweat locks of hair being pulled from your face. You only felt that painful lurch of your body, it buzzed intensely and your whole body trembled as the last of your stomach’s contents dirtied the street.

With a low groan, you opened your eyes to inspect the damage you’d caused. Seven stories below you on the street were several angry pedestrians that all either looked at each other or up at you in utter disgust.

“You really let ‘em have it, aye!” Junkrat let go of you to wrap his longs arms around himself, stomping his feet and laughing furiously. “Its not funny, you ass - ” another round of vomiting and you were a shaking mess.

“Take me t-to a hospital.” You whimpered, turning to face the lanky man. “You’ll be right, darl’. Just need somethin’ to drink and some toast.” You shook your head and immediately regretted the simple action as it brought your head back over the balcony.

“I’ll go get ya some grub, yeah? Stay right there! Aim for any suits!” The junker was gone in a flash and you simply let your upper body sway over the height of the building.

What had the three of you gotten up to last night? You woke up black and blue and now you were puking your literal guts up, which only intensified your pain. Hearing a low snort from behind you, you grunted, unable to even open your eyes to investigate.

“Never again.” You said slowly, the throaty chuckle you heard somehow soothed your aching belly.

“Can’t handle that much grog yet. Too puny.” You wiped your mouth on the collar of your shirt and moaned, “What happened last night?”

“You were hit by a truck.” Junkrat laughed, balancing a plate of over-cooked peanut butter toast and a tall glass of water with him. “I was what - ”

“Ain’t no trucks ‘round here. Bar fight happened.” Roadhog assured you, and your tense shoulders slumped with a sigh. You glared at the blonde junker and snatched the toast, shoving it into your dry mouth without a second thought. After that was gone you chased down the taste of burn with the water and you cracked an eye open to give Jamie an appreciative wink despite your sour mood - which he giddily accepted.

“Bar fight, y'say?” Junkrat raised his brows at his larger companion and the man grunted, nodding as a big beefy hand crept past his gas mask to scratch his face, exposing his chin and lower lip-line. “Ya just had to go startin’ somethin’, right, Y/N?” Junkrat nudged you with his elbow and you practically jumped out of your skin.

“Would you please be careful!” You cried and shuffled to Roadhog’s side, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “He’s trying to kill me.”

“I’m doin’ no such thing! Not my fault you keep getting into trouble, you dirtbag.” Jamie cackled at your angry scowl only to have an enormous hand envelop his face. “Oi!”

It was your turn to cackle now, and you pressed your palms flat against your stomach to try and ease your fit - it didn’t work. “I never stuck a toe out of line before you two came along.” You defended, catching a glimpse of golden iris from behind Hog’s gigantic fingers. “What happened? Tell me the other guy has it worse.”

Junkrat, finally released from the hard, sweaty grip of his captor took this opportunity to sling his arm around you carelessly. “Y'think we’d let anyone get away with that?” Long fingers yanked at the shirt covering your bruises and you frowned, crossing your arms over your stomach.

“So what happened, then?” You stared up at Jamison, who’s cocky expression drooped in thought. You could practically hear the cogs in his head beginning to turn and you rolled your eyes at him, annoyed at the sudden close proximity.

Junkrat brushed his nose against yours playfully and hummed, “Donno, darl’, it’s all still a bit foggy.”

Drunk!Marius and kittens

with @dearenjolras

  • Marius would watch the Kitten Academy Live Stream to de-stress. Sometimes there’s alcohol involved… let’s say there’s almost always alcohol involved.
  • Imagine Marius just sitting there giggling and “aawing” to himself.
  • And he’d start out super serious and with a frown and then gradually smiles and then his roommate Courfeyrac sees him making heart eyes at the screen.
  • He’s precariously perched on the computer chair because it’s wobbly and he’d meant to replace or fix it forever ago but never got around to it and eventually the cute becomes too much and he’s aawing and giggling and the chair collapses and that’s how Courfeyrac found Marius laugh crying on the sitting on the sitting room floor.
  • “Courf, they are so small”
    “Coooourf, do they know I love them? I need to tell them”
  • He picks up the phone, dials no one, and starts rambling about how he loves the kittens.
  • He somehow records a voicemail and it would sound so heartbreaking if it wasn’t for Courfeyrac laughing in the background.
    “I love you sooo much, okay?” *gigglesob* “Be good, okay?” *sniff* “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?” *sob* “And when you grow up and have your own children–” *choked noises* *Courfeyrac laughing*
  • Courfeyrac has a YouTube channel dedicated to Marius’ wine drunken weeping over kittens.
  • It gets popular and one day, Marius comes home and says: “A few girls asked me to sign their cat pictures. What did you do????”
  • Poor Courfeyrac chokes on his milk and manages to feign innocence for like two seconds.
  • Courf: “I made a youtube channel with you crying over kittens?”
    Marius: “Why?!”
    *five videos later*
    Marius: *faceplants onto the desk* “I hate you, you know that?”
    Courf: “Oh, hush, you adore me.”
    Marius: *shoves him from the chair*
  • And one day Courf decides to surprise him with a real kitten. So Marius is drunk and giggling and crying about kittens and then Courfeyrac just dumps a real kitten into his arms and Marius is a mess. And you can hear Courfeyrac’s laughter and the camera’s shaking so much, but it’s their most popular video.
My Immortal (Baron Corbin x Reader)

Context: Things were supposed to be perfect but only until they are never meant to be. Can Baron soothe Reader’s racing thoughts…or even his own? 

**A/N: **  So, second ever Baron Corbin fic because I wasn’t confident on writing him for a while since the first fic on him was average at best. I was originally going to go with a different Evanescence song but I think “My Immortal” fits better.

**S/B: ** Angst; not too sure if it’s too much or too little. I didn’t like the first draft I had queued so I rewrote parts. Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

**Warnings: ** mystery (might be missing something; will add if I notice)

Originally posted by rezny

**Tags: ** @hardcorewwetrash ; @the-geekgoddes;  @m-a-t-91 ; @squirrel666; @crookedmoonsaultpunk ; @laochbaineann ;  @livingthestrongstyle ; @nickysmum1909 ;@caramara3 ; @lavitabella87 ; @hardcorewwetrash; @tooweirdforlifex; @wwefangirl69; @wefunloveruniverse; @ehvil7; @wrestlingnoob; @not-that-kinda-gurl08; @wwesmutdonedirtcheap ; @macfizzle; @balordarling


“….You used to captivate me by your resonating light

Now, I’m bound by the life you left behind

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams

Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

These wounds won’t seem to heal, this pain is just too real

There’s just too much that time cannot erase…”

         “You sure you’ll be okay?” Baron looked up at the space between us; his brown eyes were filled with concern. I finally turned to face him, lips pursed in a tight line to stop the quivering. My hand passed softly through the thick black curls of my ‘fro.

           “I’ll be fine, babe. You’re going back on the road again in the morning, aren’t you?”

           “Yeah, the Pay-per-view is in a week.” He whispered, flashing a glance quickly up to see a tear finally fall from my eyes. In one swift motion, Baron got up and made his way to where I stood in the kitchen, wrapping his arms tenderly around my waist. “I’m sorry. You know how much I wish I can stay…but I can’t.

           “I know. You do this for the two of us.” I sighed, shoving the empty, dirty plates down in the dishwasher. “But I just wish you had a little more time to spend at home. It’s one of the things I still have to get used to.”

           “Come ‘ere. Come closer.” Baron said, when the doors shut and the wash cycle finally started. “Cuddle with me, tonight? I just wanna be in bed, wrapped up in you before I go. Maybe it’ll make it easier.”

           “Mmmm. I hope so.”


        “I need you to know that I fucking love you.” Baron mumbled the following morning. He intertwined my left hand in his, rubbing against the gold band on my ring finger. Baron’s lips formed a weak smile, letting the silence linger for a solid moment before opening it again to speak. “You’re my girl. You’re freaking amazing and I’d always be in debt to you for that.”

           “Baron?” I asked, kissing his lips. My voice lowering drastically. “Baron, are you alright? You sound off.”

           “I’m going to miss you that’s all.” He said, leveling his own voice to match my low tone.  I glared at towering man standing before me, perking up an eyebrow in question.

           “Are you sure?”

       “It’s probably just the fear from rising up the ranks so quickly, ya know? Nothing I can’t handle it. I don’t want you to worry.” Baron stammered

       Baron’s eye darted away from my terrified ones, before pulling me back into his arms. “I-I-I don’t…Look you trust me right, (Y/N)? Baby, please answer me.”

        “I’m your girl. I trust you.” I sniffed, biting my lip to prevent my tears from falling. I slowly walked the love of my life to front door of our apartment, where his suitcases laid. “Good luck out there. You’ll be okay. But promise me one thing?”

          “Sure.”

         “Promise me you’ll be okay?” I asked, lightly pressing a hand against his cheek. Baron’s lips pressed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

         “I’ll be okay, baby. I love you.” He repeated as his lips pressed against mine in a passionate kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll call you, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

         As Baron closed the door, his words didn’t make leaving any easier. They never did. But I always watched from the front window as the tattooed man with a maroon colored beanie made his way into the car outside. We both knew in an unspoken understanding that the bonds made between us could always change, especially with our chosen career paths.


        “It’s the pre Pay-per-view jitters, doll. Are you going to be watching?”

       Baron’s voice had soothed my ears every night doing his best to calm my fears but sweet nothings could not help ease what was there: the accidental creation of fear, a bad omen. I had never been one to believe in superstition until now.

       “You know it. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I have a surprise for you when you get back tomorrow.”

         “Oh sweet pea, you already know how much I love surprises.”

           The volume on my laptop echoed off the walls of the bedroom in the same way it always did when a Pay-per-View was on. I held my breath as Baron slid with ease inside the ring post main event, the most aggressive expression painted on his face as he stared down a weary retaining champion in Jinder. Baron was more focused than ever before in this big moment.

           “Can it be, Tom? Is ‘The Lone Wolf’ going to do this at SummerSlam of all places?”

           “OH MY GOD, JBL, HE IS! MR. MONEY IN THE BANK IS CASHING HIS CONTRACT IN!!!”

           1…2…

           A near fall.

           1…2…

        …3! And the new…As the ref’s hand hit the mats for the final count, I could feel the growing pride inside my heart as the WWE Championship was lifted above Baron’s head. The new title card under his name illuminated the change of titles and the crowd cheered in the same way my heart leaped in the beats of the pride I truly felt.

         When Baron called me with the cracks in his voice finally gone on the other side of the phone, I knew it was a good sign and a breath of fresh air.

         “Hey champ, I’m so proud of you!” I cheered. “I miss you so much.”

       “It was only my nerves. Thank you for believing in me.”


        Seven o’clock in the morning gave signal for three loud knocks came at the front door. Baron’s home early, I thought as a huge grin spread over my face. Baron’s ho—

        As I made my way downstairs, the colors of the police sirens from the other side of the closed curtains greeted my heart in ways I didn’t want it to. Fear and bad omens sometimes come true. God, how I hated it but I took a deep breath and opened the front door anyway. I silently hoped as I looked at the officer standing before me, it would’ve been different news. One that was never actually meant for me.

        “Mrs. Corbin?”

         “Yes, that me.” I answered quietly; rubbing the signs of sleep from my eyes. “Is there a problem?”

       “I’m so sorry to bother you this early in the morning. May I come in for a moment?”

      I hesitated unsure if it was some kind of joke, looking at the woman in front of me dressed in shades of official blue. Her face was solemn and her eyes were an empty shade of blue. I finally nodded, letting her in and guiding her to the dining room table.

     “Is it my husband?” I questioned. “Did something happen to him?

      “I’m sorry.” The officer sighed, letting those empty eyes do the talking. “We found your husband’s car crashed and abandoned on the side of the highway. All we found was this.”

   She left without another word, leaving the hat in my outstretched hands and me in my own thoughts. I guess nobody wants to see a wife weep over their lost husband.

    My lips trembled. Oh God, Baron.


     I’ve been in this rut for the last two months, two months since Baron’s disappeared and I found the last message he left. The last time I could possibly hear Baron’s voice again and the wounds were still as fresh as the first night I got the news.

     “(Y/N), baby. I know it’s late and you’re probably asleep. I’m on my way to the airport. To be honest, I thought I was rising to the top too quickly but babe…as long as I got you I can do this. I miss you. Can’t wait to see what surprise you have for me. I’ll call when I get—”

     “Shit!” he hissed. I bit my lip, as the skid of metal filled my ear and finally a loud crash. There was silence and the voicemail finally ended.

     I sadly guessed that I could never give Baron the surprise I was hoping for. My hands passed gently over the maroon colored beanie, as my tears stained the corners of the man I lost.

     Three months pregnant and my husband was gone; nowhere to be found. There were more horrors than the fear of performing. I said it before and I’ll say it again: Fear and bad omens can sometimes come true. Oh God, how I hated it.

Originally posted by deandeeds

When He Was Mine

Summary: You are left broken hearted after your boyfriend breaks up with you over accusations of flirting with the avengers (+ mainly Bucky). Upset, you go to Bucky and Steve’s apartment and they help you out. (Bucky also has a crush on you tho, and apologises)

Words: 721

Warnings: language

I came up with this idea randomly so I hope its good! Hope you like it, enjoy! I will probably do a part 2 as this started to get large, so let me know if you would like a part 2. Emma Xx

Originally posted by gothicclownqueen


The words rang through your head, echoing down the corridors of your apartment and swarming everything you touched. Dougie had consumed your life and everything which surrounded you, and for him to be cast away from your life, totally ruined your whole existence.

Everything he touched.

Everything he spoke of; he liked.

“St… Steve?” you whimpered, snuffling as you cleared your throat slightly. Steve instantly realised the soft and tender voice echoing down the phone and raced to the door, unlocking it ready for you to appear in a while. “Y/N? What’s happened?” he panicked, nodding over to Bucky who instantly seemed alerted. “I went to pick Dougie up from the bar and… and he was there with like three girls and when I asked him what he was doing…” you sniffled, “he yelled at me. It’s all my fault!” you wailed. “He said I’ve been flirting with you guys and shit. So he went off the rails and he’s basically single now,” you wept, your voice cracking slightly as you finished your sentence.

“Ok, come round, we are both in and we can talk and stuff,” replied Steve, dismissing your language which he would normally pick up on. Glancing to Bucky, he softened his face as he put down the phone. “She’s coming round,” stated Steve, easing off his seat with his coffee mug.

“Oh ok,” replied Bucky, hiding his slight excited-ness at your presence. “Err, is it wrong to ask why?”

“Dougie thinks she was flirting with us and the rest of the team. He took it so far he went out drinking and he had three girls hanging off him when she got there,” sighed Steve, placing his mug in the sink and binned an empty can of beer. “That’s fucked up,” exclaimed Bucky, easing himself down onto the sofa.

“Hey watch the language!” chirped Steve. “But I do agree though,”

“I mean, I am a way better boyfriend! I would never do that to anyone! God, and especially Y/N. She is so nice, you know. And she would never try to hurt anyone!” spouted Bucky, never seeming to end his personal conversation. “I know you like her and all, and maybe this is some kind of chance for you, but not right now, please. She is still heart-broken even though she will be happy it’s over in the end. Just lay it off, for today at least,” warned Steve, reaching for the TV remote.

                                                                                   ***

“Hey Y/N,” welcomed Steve, ushering you through the door and into his arms. “Heyyyy, alright calm down, lets get through the door and we can talk,” assisted Steve, clutching your frame as you wept into his shoulder. Nodding through the tears, you walked through to the main living room to where Bucky was sat on the sofa, looking over to you. “Omg, Y/N, come here!” called Bucky, opening his arm up for you to sit with him. “What happened?” he asked, wiping away a tear from under your eye. Sighing, and stifling the urge to weep once more, you began: “Well Dougie was never very comfortable with me working around guys like you two and Clint and Thor and stuff. So one day he saw me training with Clint I think and we were sparring and so we were having a good time, but he totally took it the wrong way and went off the rails. I came home and he was in the worst mood and he said he was going out, so I went along with it, thinking he was gonna blow off some steam. Turns out, when I go to look for him, he is totally letting loose and making out with girls. I threw a drink at him and left. I think he followed me out but I just screamed we are over and then left,” you spouted, turning to Bucky to see his face soft and mellow.

“I just wish he at least trusted me. It’s stupid I know but-“

“-Hey, it’s not stupid. He should have trusted you in your profession, even if it did mean you were surrounded by hot muscly men!” he laughed at the end, peering down at himself. Smirking over to you, you peered over to Steve who was trying hard to hold it in. “Aaha, yeah. That’s a thing,” you smiled.

(I don’t know what this is but silver is broken hearted and james is free with Thomas)

“What does it feel like, loving him?”

The question leaves his lips before he can stop himself. John immediately wants to take it back, to hide it in the ground with that damn chest and never let it see the light of day again.

James frowns as the wet rag falls from his hands into the basin. He took a deep, audible breath. “Bright.”

He crumbled slightly, his eyes watering and his chest expanding as he sucked air into his lungs.

“Both too bright and too dim. In London, when we were together, I was… I was different. Calmer, ready to listen and accept what was said to me. He would touch me, just a press of his fingers to my shoulder and I- I just stopped. But it was almost too much at times. It scared me, how deeply I had come to care for him, and even when he gave me that love back tenfold I was terrified of losing him…” James paused, his chest heaving, and he seemed on the verge of breaking.

“But without him I am half a man. Losing him was like losing my sight or my hearing. The world changed. And I’ve never recovered, not really. When Miranda-” he choked, eyes falling shut and tears brimming over and down his cheeks. “When Miranda was murdered the last light in the world went out. I was broken, but somehow you brought me out.”

John thought of how long he had kept the knowledge of Thomas to himself and felt slightly sick.

“When you thought Madi dead, I saw myself in your eyes. You love her, and you would do anything to keep her safe,” James went on. “I know we are broken, the two of us, and we may never be on the same page again, but… thank you. For this chance to see him again. Even if it is a lie, a fiction to get me alone and remove me from the problem-”

“Now wait-”

“No,” James interrupted, “I’m thanking you. Once again you have opened a door I thought closed. You’ve given me a hope I don’t want to believe but feel compelled to. If- If he is there, I’ll never leave his side again.”

Silver felt something inside him burst with pain. It was, he thought, heartbreak. But a smile fell over James’ face and John felt tears on his cheeks.

He realised that he loved this man. Flint was as close to love as a man like Silver could get. He knew the man was right, that Madi would not be enough, that he would long for a legacy and for the sea. His love for Madi is true and strong and he knows he would do anything for her, but for James-

He would kill for Madi, burn the world if she asked. But he would die for James Flint. And to know they might never see one another again made his heart pound and sweat break out on his palms. He wants to reach out, to take Flint in his arms and say “no, you don’t get to leave me like you left him,” but he stays sat at the small table. His heart breaks, but he lets the pain flow over him like water.

He doesn’t watch the two men reunite. Doesn’t watch their tender touches and soft kisses, doesn’t see them weep and cling to one another. Instead he goes to find the woman he loves and hopes she won’t turn him away.

While I’m busy thinking about all the sad things….

Could you imagine if instead of the paragon option on the Citadel being letting the VS shoot Udina, if Shepard chooses not to act or take an interrupt, Udina ends up shooting the VS?

It never made sense to me why Shepard (or a squad member) would even consider shooting the VS unless they legitimately hadn’t made an effort to be a decent commander through the course of three games. But if they choose inaction over shooting Udina, they have to pay the price of losing a friend for their hesitation. 

Serendipity: Chapter Five

Jungkook x Reader (Wolf AU)

Five: Run

Warning: Language

Author: Lee

Word Count: 2,654


One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven




It all happened too fast; the arguing,  yelling,  shoving, and then I don’t know what.  One minute my boyfriend and his brother are having a heated argument on the front porch, the next they’re replaced by huge  dogs trying to tear each other’s throats out.

I was so panicked by the event that I couldn’t move; I could only helplessly watch as the animals attempted to tear each other limb from limb. The sounds they were making were even more horrifying and the growling and snarling just seemed to get louder. One was a large, slate-colored wolf who seemed to overpower the smaller - but still huge - grey canine who wouldn’t back down.

Through the terror, I attempted to break up or at least lessen the fighting.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Hey!” My voice rose the second time.

Even more shocked that they actually stopped, I was frozen again. They weren’t looking at me or giving any indication that they really cared I was there, instead they were panting, bleeding  and looking at each other. I didn’t dare move in case they decided to turn on me if I made the slightest sound.

After a couple of minutes frozen, the grey wolf turned away and darted off, blood dripping from its muzzle and different areas on its torso. It was nearly already out of sight by the time the other wolf turned around, tearing me out of my shock.

I darted inside as fast as I could, shutting the door behind me with a slam. My hands were shaking and my pulse was racing, but I never moved from the door until his voice broke the suffocating silence.

“Y/n?”


Previously

“You’re very beautiful, do you know that?” Jungkook cooed, wrapping his arms around my waist with ease.

“I think that’s the third time you’ve said that this morning, Jungkook.” I reminded, not bothering to hide my chuckle.

“Yeah, but now I can actually say it.” He grinned, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Because we’re dating?” I rhetorically asked, earning a low grumble from the man wrapped around me,  restricting me from doing my work.

“I’m trying to clean, you know?” I said, letting a small giggle slip.

He let go, but not without hesitating and giving me a kiss on the shoulder first.

“What should I do?” He inquired just before a knock on the door was heard. “I’ll get it.” He assured before setting off towards the door.

I wasn’t sure who it could be, but if I was needed, surely Jungkook would call for me. Although that never came, just arguing that grew louder and louder. Quickly dropping what I was doing, I made my way to the door, only to see that it was closed, which was weird because I hadn’t heard it close.

As I drew closer, I heard the argument more clearly, although I wasn’t able to identify the problem because I didn’t have a clue what they were saying.

“You’re being selfish, Jungkook!” An unfamiliar voice shouted. “What about your promise?”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Jungkook yelled back. “You are the ones treating me like that promise means nothing, Yoongi, not me.”

Us?” ‘Yoongi’ hissed.

It sounded like he had smacked Jungkook’s shoulder or shoved him.

“We were giving you space while also trying to figure out just what the fuck your problem was,” He took in a sharp breath. “And when we found out, Jungkook, we gave you a warning and you ignored it.”  

 “It’s not your job to run my life, I can make my own choices.” Jungkook snapped back.

“You can also make other people’s choices for them, it seems.”

My blood ran cold after he spoke, because instead of the sounds of two grown men fighting, the aggressive, ugly snarls of animals replaced words. It was only then that I actually opened the door, darting onto the porch to get a better look of what was happening.


Present

“Y/n, please don’t cry.”  Jungkook spoke through the closed door, listening to my weeping. “Let me in and I’ll explain everything.”

He was answered by the muffled crying that could be heard from his side of the door.

“I’m bleeding all over your porch.” He voiced after a while, when my weeps had turned into sniffles.

Even though I had no idea what was going on and I was still debating whether or not whatever I saw was real , I decided to let Jungkook in and tend to his wounds. Afterall, the feelings that had built up over the past few months had been yearning for me to let him in despite what happened with Yoongi.

I gingerly stood up and unlocked the door, pulling it open slowly. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bleeding all over my porch. Gashes on his arms still bled, dripping everywhere. There were cuts on his face, hands, and assumedly other places, like his chest, back and legs, that I couldn’t see. The one on his arm was the worst by far, digging a little deeper than the rest.

“Wait here.” I urged, spinning around on my heel to go get a towel.

Once I returned, I noticed him staring at my puffy face with a look of, if I had to take a guess, regret and apology. I decided not to point it out and initiate a conversation with him until I was emotionally ready. For now, his injuries would distract me enough to put off the inevitable for a while longer.

I led him to the bathroom after attempting to make sure he wouldn’t track any blood  or dirt into the house. As I fished out the first aid kit from the closet, I had Jungkook rinse off his wounds. Sounds of displeasure and pain filled the room, but he never protested.

“Do you have more cuts on your torso?” I asked, fiddling with different equipment from the kit.

As if he couldn’t feel them or had no clue whether or not he did have any injuries on the rest of his body, he pulled his shirt off, inspecting the cuts that littered his body. It looked like he ran through a glass door at full force.

I sighed, although it wasn’t a sigh of disappointment or annoyance; it was doused in worry.

“Jungkook,” I began, my eyes landing on a new cut seemingly every second. “Why did you let this happen?” I asked, shaking my head as I approached him.

I ran my thumb over one of the cuts, almost ready to cry again.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbled in a low voice. “I didn’t think it would get this out of hand.” He admitted.

After silence drowned out the previous conversation, I decided it would be best for him to lay in a hot bath. I filled the tub, feeling guilty when I found out I didn’t have anything that would make his pain ease and told him he could get in. I was busy digging out one of the bubble bath remedies that I never used to even realize that he had stripped and was doing what I said.

“I should really put medicine on the cut on your arm and bandage it up.” I commented, handing him the bottle of bubble bath to add as he pleased. “I’m afraid of that one getting an infection the most.”

As time went by, Jungkook sat silent and let me play doctor with his arm, laying his head back against the wall. I finally decided to confront the events earlier, feeling like I couldn’t hold it off any longer.

“What I saw today,” I paused. “It was real, wasn’t it?” I asked, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yes.” He answered.

“And the person who did this to you,” I stole a glance at his face. “Was your brother?”

“Yes.”

Once I was done with his arm, I placed it on the edge of the bath and decided to sit back against it, facing away from Jungkook.

“When were you going to tell me all this?” I chanced, playing with my nails.

“I don’t know,” He replied. “Not today.”

“Jungkook, don’t you think it’s important for me to know?” I asked, still refusing to turn to him.

“So you could run away from me, too?” He retorted. “I didn’t want you to be scared.”

“Well, you’re not doing very good so far.”

Do you think--” He started a little louder than he would have liked. “Do you think I want it to be like this?” He questioned, chuckling darkly. “I would give anything for that… ability to disappear.”

“I’m not blaming you for it,” I replied. “I’m blaming you for keeping it a secret from me, especially after we started dating.”

I finally turned to him, only to see the same hurt in my eyes reflected into his.

“Maybe I was scared of having this exact conversation. I was scared, Y/n. Scared that you’d leave me,  that you’d think I’m some dangerous freak.” He admitted.

“I’m more human than I am anything else, Y/n, I swear. I wasn’t forced into that until I hit puberty , I grew up a little boy with not a worry in the world that one day I’d grow up to be a monster in the eyes of the everyone around me.”

He turned to me, taking my hand unexpectedly and placing it on his wet chest, his eyes pleading for me to understand.

“I have a heart, I have feelings, I go through pain like anyone else. I fell in love with a girl with kick-ass shooting skills and a love for adventure. My brothers warned me about getting close to you and they kept saying that you’d run away and tell someone but damn it, Y/n, I didn’t care.”

“I kept making excuses by saying I wouldn’t give you a reason to run and that if I never did, you’d never want to leave me and everything would be fine.” He choked out, crying along with me now. “But now that I see that it was going to happen anyway, I am begging you to not run away because I need you.”

“Jungkook–” I tried to cut in, but he needed to get this off of his chest.

“You make me feel like I was a kid again. You don’t care how clingy and  annoying I am and you smile at me like I mean something to you and if you knew how good it felt to feel wanted after what I’ve been through.” He sobbed, keeping my hand in place.

I didn’t try and pull away or take my eyes off of him even when he looked away to blink the tears out of his eyes.

“I’m not going to run away, Jungkook.” I managed to say, wiping my face off with my sleeve. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I’d be able to get very far before I’m running back again.”

We both gave pathetic looking smiles, covered in salty tears and heartache.

“Jungkook?” I asked after a while, earning a hum for an answer. “Your brothers, they’re… all like you?”

He nodded.

“And the fight earlier… what was it about?” I inquired.

He was silent for a little before he decided to speak up. His tone was different from our previous conversation, it almost seemed like he was angered just to talk about it.

“My brothers, for a while now, have been trying to get me away from you. So, in order to keep them away, I stuck to you like glue - which I didn’t mind since I was sort of in love with you - so they kept their distance. I guess they were tired of waiting for me to come home, or Yoongi was at least, so they took initiative and came to me.” He explained, earning a small nod from me every other minute or so.

“I made a promise,” He continued. “That they’d always come first, no matter what. Right now we’re sort of having problems with a few others so they expect me to run on home and help out.”

“Are the other people like you too? The ones that you’re having problems with?” I curiously asked.

“Yes and no,” Jungkook replied, playing with my hand. “Some are just normal people picking a fight who know nothing. They’re nothing my brothers can’t handle by themselves.”

I decided not to press on into the conversation.

“I think you’ve been in the bath long enough,” I commented, standing up. “Get out and dry off, I’ll bring you some fresh clothes before I disinfect all of your cuts.”

“That’s another thing,” He caught my attention before I could leave the room. “You don’t have to worry about my wounds. They… heal faster than yours would. That’s the only thing that makes me different from you besides the whole transformation itself.”

I decided nodding was a good enough answer before I left the room, doing what I said I was going to do before Jungkook stopped me.


Later

A knock on the door woke me from my sleep, forcing me to untangle myself from Jungkook. It was later in the night, around eleven, and I had unknown visitors. As far as I was concerned, after what happened today, I didn’t want to open the front door for anyone else for the rest of my life.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, pulling me back into him.

“There’s someone at the door.” I groggily informed, attempting to break away from his hold.

“Let me get it,” He instantly got up. “Stay here.”

It didn’t even occur to me that maybe it was his brother back for round two, or maybe a few others so they could drag him back off to their place. I was feeling increasingly nervous as I listened to Jungkook’s footsteps become muffled down the hallway. I heard talking once he opened the door, but no fighting. I decided it was safe enough to at least take a look at our visitor, so I made my way to the door where Jungkook stood.

“You don’t look as bad as him,” An unfamiliar man pointed out, laughing.

Jungkook laughed too, so I instantly eased up.

“Didn’t they yell at you for trying to come here?” Jungkook wondered.

“No,” The other answered immediately. “They wanted me to come and see you. Even if you’ve been a complete asshole these past months, everyone still cares about you.”

“Minus one.”

“Come on, you and him go at it all the time. He has honestly been the most worried about you, you know. That’s why he dragged his ass all the way out here to have a talk.”

“A talk?” Jungkook repeated, chuckling. “Looks like he forgot what he came here for.”

“He didn’t want to fight you, besides weren’t you the one who lunged at him? What was he supposed to do?”

The black haired boy cleared his through, spotting me from behind Jungkook.

“Ah, Y/n. This is my brother, Jimin” Jungkook introduced, stepping out of the way so I could see the man clearly.

“We’re not actually siblings, in case you were wondering why we look nothing alike.” Jimin said, holding out his hand for me to shake, which I did.

“You can come in.” I offered, shivering from the door being open. “I’ll make tea.”

I made my way to the kitchen after the two boys went to the living room, already deep in conversation about something I didn’t bother to try and figure out.

I was honestly surprised that Jimin seemed to be someone Jungkook welcomed with ease; by the way he talked about his brothers, they didn’t seem like they were very… nice.

They both had a cup of tea before I decided to return to bed, allowing the two boys to stay up and talk.

What an exhausting day.

anonymous asked:

Do you have a favrite fic/fic writer rec list that you'd give for someone just starting drarry? Yours are the best!

Ooooh, this question is excellent! I’m really honored you asked me, anon. :)

Well, instead of linking you to everyone’s AO3 pages, I’m just going to throw out some Drarry heavy-hitters, some linked here on tumblr and some not, and I’d suggest you just type them into the search box at AO3 and go from there! I’m also destined to leave off some really amazing, really important writers, so please forgive me!

 Alrighty! You gotta go @firethesound. She can do it all, everything from near-crack ridiculous to break-your-heart angst. But my favorites of hers are those somewhere in the middle, where there’s pining and UST and hotness and falling in love and banter, etc. I’ll link you to my favorite, ‘The Light More Beautiful’: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2693312/chapters/6026747 It is superb!

Then there’s faithwood. She’s seriously a legend, so just search her on AO3 and you’ll find some of the most popular and well-written Drarry stories ever.

And speaking of legends. Now, everybody’s taste in Drarry runs a little different, so forgive me if this next isn’t to your liking, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t point you toward snegurochka_lee’s “Ninth Rehearsal” (she drops the ‘lee’ part on AO3). Bear in mind, this is D/s with consent issues and bondage. It’s also one of the damned hottest things I’ve read: http://archiveofourown.org/works/150861

You gotta read @bixgirl1. She’s new, relatively speaking, and writing some of the best Drarry I’ve seen lately. She’s a really talented writer, and her love for the pairing shines through her words. I don’t think you can go wrong here.

birdsofshore  She writes a primarily toppy Draco, usually first person, and her UST drips off the screen! Seriously, her UST is hotter than a lot of smut I’ve read. (Note: the smut’s hot too.) I’m not sure how she does it. I think she casts an Imperio on readers with the first line or something. Stellar writer; amazing H/D dynamic; super hot Draco!

I haven’t read a lot of @femmequixotic, but I know enough to be able to rec her work. She’s writing a really, really long fic that a good deal of fandom is loving right now, and I’ll tell you the only two reasons I haven’t read it myself yet are: a) I don’t read WIPS, and b) when I read something that’s, like, ~too good~ it can throw me off my own writing. And since I’m busy writing for Erised myself right now, I can’t afford to read somebody else’s too-good words and risk that I’m-never-writing-again feeling, you know? It’s a high compliment that I’m steering clear of femme for now for that very reason. (It’s also a really annoying problem, because I want to read it!)

Same goes with zeitgeistic’s legendary fic, ‘Azoth’. I haven’t read it myself, but it’s one of the most widely-recced and well-received Drarry stories I’ve ever seen. She’s a fantastic writer, so even though I haven’t read it yet myself, it’s on my list of fics I can’t die without reading because I know how excellent it’s going to be: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1049966/chapters/2100285

But I’m getting off-track because you asked for *my* recs. Okay!

Well, sdk writes it all. She writes wonderful Drarry but also all kinds of other pairings and all of it so well-written. I highly recommend you check out her AO3 and see if there are things you’d like! One of my very favorites is ‘Save My Wonders’, written for Draco Tops Harry and featuring a chubby Draco. It’s not fat shaming or used as kink, which is refreshing. It’s very real and just lovely, and how they come together is beautifully done: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1292929

One of my favorite stories from years ago was ‘Here’s the Pencil, Make It Work’ by ignatiustrout. I wanted to throw my laptop out the window for about three days after I read this because I thought, well damn, I should just never write again. It’s that good! http://archiveofourown.org/works/640449

@gracerene09 is a really prolific Drarry writer and has some awesome stuff to choose from! I can’t pick just one, so please do follow her (she also recs a lot, too) and search her stuff on AO3 for sure!

Okay, @ravenclawsquill. Like, totally. Her Erised last year killed me dead. It’s called ‘The Full Four Seasons’ and is a friends-to-lovers slow burn that will have you melting from the pining! http://archiveofourown.org/works/8820499/chapters/20223970

Also from Erised last year, ‘Written on the Heart’ by who_la_hoop. It has everything! I could gush over this story for ages! It made me clutch my heart and literally sit here weeping while also dying of how hot it was: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8820499/chapters/20223970

To be fair, you should check out ALL of the above two authors’ stories! They’re amazing!

Please also follow @capiturecs because she is a Drarry reccing GODDESS.

Okay, well that’s a reeeeeally great start right there! I love all these writers immensely. Do come back and let me know if you loved anything I recced here in particular. I’d love knowing I sent you in a good direction! <3

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation
You build up hope but failure’s all you’ve known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go

Thanks a bunch to @destinyapostasy for drawing these two for me again.   This time it’s Passion being comforted by @feynites‘ Thenvunin.  I promise these two aren’t always weeping all over each other and there are happier moments for them.  Not today though.  As always, the expressions are amazing and I’m in love with their hands.  And everything else to be honest.  

Also, have some words I managed to get out about this and am actually kind of happy with.

Thenvunin is @feynites


You really shouldn’t be doing this.

          For the good of the Empire.  For the good of the Empire.

 You shouldn’t be curled up in your friend’s garden with a bottle of something that burns too much (not enough for this, never enough for this) and a bag of berries as an offering to the birds you’re disturbing.

        There is no grief for a sacrifice for the Empire.  

Keep reading

Before I Sleep

Carl abandoned his father, injured and alone, in that suburban house to scavenge for supplies. When he returned, he found the house claimed, his father’s life claimed, and he, himself, claimed.


chapter one: ulalume
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust—
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust—
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.
- “Ulalume,” Edgar Allen Poe


chapter two: do not go gentle
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
- “Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night,” Dylan Thomas


chapter three: the valley of unrest
Over the lilies there that wave
And weep above a nameless grave!
They wave:—from out their fragrant tops
External dews come down in drops.
They weep:—from off their delicate stems
Perennial tears descend in gems

- “The Valley of Unrest,” Edgar Allen Poe


chapter four: to earthward
When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,
The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length
- “To Earthward,” Robert Frost


chapter five & six: ouroboros (part one), (part two)
As expected by those seeing death,
she cried out now, at last finding the strength for it.
Looking up, hopeless and desperate, she growled,
like a wolf howling at moon above.
- “Ouroboros,” Daniella Michalleni


chapter seven: speak (in process)
So I grabbed my king and ran away
to a land of death,
where I reigned and people whispered
that I’d been dragged.
I’ll tell you I’ve changed. I’ll tell you,
the red on my lips isn’t wine.
- “Persephone Speaks,” Daniella Michalleni

anonymous asked:

Do you have any favorite bts writers in here?

Sorry for being a bit late in replying to this! My internet isn’t working and I’m currently being aquatinted with our cavemen ancestors.

I read a lot of fics on here but I just do it randomly so I don’t get the chance to really know particular authors, but you could say that these are my F.A.V.E.S.:

@tayegi (Of junglecock fame. I’m sure you already know her but just in case :3)

@btssmutgalore (Zaddy, Zaddy, Zaddy)

@seoulsiddy (READ THE DARKER SIDE OF DONE AND WEEP)

@donewithjeon (I’m still not over Song Of Sirens)

@bangtanscript (Alone, Nice Guys Finish Last, The Silent Boy. I just love her)

The particular stories I mentioned are all Taehyung centric because I’m super duper biased but all their stories are beautiful. There are a lot more bts writers that I think are amazing but I haven’t had the chance to read more than one or two of their stories yet. If you want those too let me know 😊

PROMISES

Genre- ANGST ANGST ANGST.

Word Count- 2,532.

Summary- Phil has cancer, Dan has been by his side ever since it got bad and they took him in to hospital. Today is what is predicted as their last moments together, but they don’t find out till much later on in the day. 

Authors note- I CRIED WHILST WRITING THIS. I suggest listening to this mix whilst reading because it adds to the story- 

Keep reading

1) You walked up to me in the middle of a bar and asked if you could fuck me and gave me sips of your beer. It tasted as rotten as your personality and I never should’ve let you get as close to my heart as I let you. My veins turned from blue to red all for you.

2) I remember when you first texted me so clearly and I remember you telling me how you hated yourself. I never really believed you but here I am weeping at your grave wishing you had never left me.

3) You called me a bitch and an idiot but I still let myself fall for you. You were the first one to really break my heart. While we’ve had two years of silence between us, you still manage to cut me open every fucking day.

4) I called you a friend and I deeply regret ever letting you in. You took all my insecurities and secrets and used them against me one winter night. I’m still not quite over how you made fun of me after calling me your best friend. Winter’s as cold as your heart and the white of the snow is being stained red with the blood of what we were.

5) You got me addicted to the taste of vodka and the high that you gave me. You ignored my birthday and ditched me multiple times for someone else. I was never quite good enough for you and I never meant a fucking thing. Your blood and mine mixed and the poison it created killed us off.

6) You liked to be called daddy when we kissed and I was in such a bad place that I did. You made me think I was in love when really I was just scared and insecure. Part of you still lives within me and I’ve tried killing it but it just keeps whispering ‘You wish you still had me’

7) You were the last person to ever abuse me in such a way that I am still not okay. You twisted my words and made me believe I didn’t say things that I had. You made my life black and grey. I thought you were going to kill me when I called it off.

—  seven people i wish i never met