like his lips in the first one

Loki as a Vampire

Watching you with those green eyes

A slow, wicked smile with just a hint of fang

Laughing softly at you because you know what he is and still give him sass because you just aren’t scared.

Likes to slide his favorite dagger over your neck because he likes the way your breath catches but you still edge closer because you’re attracted to the danger

That one time you held his blade to your own palm and made a quick little cut before lapping slowly at the blood, he ruined his favorite pair of pants because he was not prepared for how hot it was to see you with blood on your lips

The deep moan he gives every time he bites you, because the first sip of your blood is like his favorite alcohol

The way his eyes dilate to almost black after he drinks from you, and he cleans the blood from your neck with his fingers, then cleans his fingers with his tongue, all without looking away from you

When other men stare at you, his power flares and literal electricity crackles in the air because he’s jealous

He’s so ancient that he refuses to use modern materials and when he ties you up its velvet and leather and lace and silk against your skin.

He can project his voice into your head, and when he isn’t there with you he will talk (command) you through touching yourself until you are writhing in your bed and ripping at your sheets and crying out for him.

He so desperately wants to turn you, because he was waited millennia for you, but refuses to take you away before you have lived a little, so he pushes you to finish school, to travel with your friends, to do the things you like because being a vampire comes with so many restrictions.

The day you ask him to turn you, the day you are ready to taste his blood, he drops to his knees in front of you and tries not to cry, because you have finally given him everything he has ever wanted.

Drab-let Series (Guess it, pick next) - “The Reality of Breath”

This one is from/for @ailtara.  407 words.  I’m not sure it’s exactly what she was looking for, but it’s a start to build from. I’ll likely continue this story, because I will never have enough words for this episode.  

For now, first person to identify the ep gets to pick the next. And if you can’t tell, then I’m either horrible at this, or you’ve never actually seen Voyager.


He can taste the champagne on her lips.  Intoxicating wisps of alcohol spill from her breath.  

Her cheek in his palm is warm and soft.  Her arms wrap around him, dragging him closer with each prolonged second until he is unsure where he ends and she begins.  

He is basking in their every movement, relishing the feel of her supple skin as he presses his hand along her thigh.  He memorizes every sigh that escapes her love-drunk tongue.

Until.

Everything changes.  The lake grows dark, the boat ends its rhythmic swaying.  The ground is hard beneath his knees.  

Her lips are still.  

He rushes, not to savor and enjoy them, but to breathe life back into them.  His hands are gripping greedily, not to explore, but to claim her as his and chase away death.  He is pressing on her now, moving life-blood around already failed systems, forcing his own stale breath from her lungs.  He shakes her and holds her and cries out for only the wind to hear.

And then.

He is awake, hands clenched around fistfuls of sheets.  He closes his eyes, leans back on his elbows and tries to ignore the hollow wail of anguish ringing in his ears.

But he does not succeed.

The chronometer by his bedside assures him it is sufficiently late.  She will be asleep by now, certainly.  And it’s too early to wake her.  But he has to know which reality he is living in.  

As he dresses he makes peace with this inappropriate, but extremely necessary, thing he is about to do.

He passes no one enroute to her quarters.  Elicits no attention while he overrides her door lock.  Is silent as he steals into her bedroom.  

He watches as the covers rise and fall.  She is just the right amount of peaceful.

Turning to leave, he sees the rose in a glass vase by her bedside.  He remembers how soft and supple it was when he picked it for her. He takes one single petal from the blossom.  

Back in the appropriateness of his quarters he regards the stolen treasure.  It is delicate peach at the edge bleeding down to deep rose and every shade in between that he knows she blushed to.  The same, fleshy softness is weightless in his palm.  A similar, sweet smell is light in the air.

He rests.

Until it is time for her to breathe life into him once again.


Another note:  Like many of these drab-lets, this one started out way over word count and I couldn’t imagine cutting it down.  But I’m telling you, fellow writer friends, crafting a story to a specific number is SUCH an insanely awesome lesson.  Please try it with me sometime.

As a kid, I used to think love was when you thought someone was pretty and they let you hold their hand. I would send out the letters to every girl that caught my eye and I would wait anxiously for a reply. I carried that trend into my adult life–pairing myself with any pretty girl that didn’t find me repulsive.

So when you asked me when I knew I loved you. I was tempted to say it was when we held hands for the first time and I felt it in my gut, but it was seven months later, a week after I met your family, that double date with your best friend and her loud boyfriend. During one of his many stories, you reached for my hand under the table and smiled at me because you knew how irritated I was getting. I tried to master a smile back at you but my lips turned to concrete. I felt it like I had never in my life: butterflies.

All my life I’ve been building walls and towers so high you couldn’t see what was behind; my fears and insecurities. Perhaps that’s why I always looked for battles and challenges, even when there wasn’t any. I always looked for ghosts to fight and demons to shoot so I would keep myself busy. Then, you came along and you made it easy for me. You laughed at all my jokes, especially the terrible ones and made me special, safe. I couldn’t fight this and I didn’t want to because it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I knew instantly that you didn’t want to change that part of me which always looked for the hard path but you would encourage it, standing by my side. So that’s what love is, not the absence of a battle, but fighting together.

—  A collab between my immensely talented friend @writingbykawelwa & @giulswrites
All It Takes (three)

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Be happy Bucky is here to handle everything.

Word Count: 4116 | Rating: R

Warnings: SMUT. oral (f receiving), face riding, dirty talking, two nsfw gifs, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap your wang, before you bang!)

A/N: I am just going to leave this for y’all thirsty hoes. But I’m baffled by the feedback I got on the first tow part, so just wanna say THANK YOU!

also sorry for any typos

Masterlist here

All It Takes Part One Part Two 

(*gifs are not mine!)

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I’ve compiled a list of bughead fanfiction I’ve really liked for everyone in the bughead fam! don’t worry if your fic isn’t on here! this is a pretty small list(i read a lot) and i’ll probably make a p2, hope you enjoy xox. 

  • all in english.
  • most of the fics are on ao3 and some on tumblr. 
  • non completed fics will have *.  

smut 

  • you taste like strawberries by aplaceformyshipstoanchor -  Betty gets a job waitressing at Pop’s Diner and Jughead has no problem watching her work. When a situation at work gets sticky, Jughead has no problem helping Betty clean up. 
  • goldilocks by lusterrdust -  Her hair just does something to him.
  • touch me, tease me by lusterrdust -  Jughead is enamored with her, her blonde hair spilling over them like a lustrous curtain and enhancing the sounds of their breathing. He wants to declare his eternal love. He wants to pour out sonnets and ballads and write novels about every freckle on her skin, every blue shade in her eye. He wants to trace his fingers over every inch of her body until there’s no part he hasn’t memorized.
  • friends with benefits by heytherejones * 
  • third time’s the charm by septemberbeauty13 - “Oh God, get a room!” Cheryl said in passing, pushing past them to get to her locker. That was enough to push Betty into a fit of giggles, burying her head into Jughead’s chest. “You know,” Jughead whispered. “I don’t normally take advice from redheads but this is sound advice.”or Jughead and Betty try very hard to get a room. 
  • resplendent by lusterrdust - A bright light all her own, his shadows are drenched in her radiance. 
  • three words by lusterrdust - Betty is an addiction Jughead never wants to be rid of. 
  • stars by lusterrdust - Despite the gritty, gravelly exterior he presents to the world, Jughead is the epitome of sweet toward her. He’s tender and considerate and just the right amount of reticent to be endearing. And though she loves that about him, Betty’s not in the mood for slow and sweet. 
  • in distance by lusterrdust -  It’s the little things he notices that make him ache for her to come back home. 
  • camp stories by jugandbettsdetectiveagency -  Betty and Jughead end up sharing a tent when the core four go camping. 
  • close calls and getting caught by wordsonpages1 - four times Betty and Jug didn’t get caught doing inappropriate *things* and then the one time they did. 
  • up close and personal (part 1, part 2) by wordsonpages1 
  • they suck at being quiet by heytherejones

angst 

  • fall in light by sylwrites - She moved to New York to find herself, but as the saying goes: wherever you go, there you are. 
  • hotdog by burgerheadjones - “Easy, Hotdog! He’s family.” How Hotdog becomes Betty and Jughead’s family in every sense. Or, where we trace the life of Hotdog with Bughead.
  • the stacks by malmo722 * - After a senior prank goes wrong, River Vixen Betty Cooper is forced to complete community service at the Riverdale Public Library with high school outcast, Jughead Jones. Romance ensues. 
  • the unexpected by spxcewvlker - "She loved that she had found peace in his arms, and comfort in his glittering blue eyes. She loved him.“ In which Jughead helps Betty with her anxiety. 
  • beanie boy by bugheadandjughead * -  “You were lonely, homeless, broken. I just gave you a place to stay.” Beanie Boy Jughead and Good Girl Betty are in it together… until romantic feelings for each other bloom between them.
  • self conclusion by nopleasestayhere - Betty Cooper is sitting at the edge of a cliff, thinking about jumping, when Jughead Jones comes to do the same thing. Betty tries to talk him down. He gives her 48 hours to change his mind. Can they help each other? 
  • drown by lusterrdust - Loss… injustice…unfairness… it’s the ugly truth of life. There doesn’t have to be a reason or a person to blame. Sometimes, misfortune just is. 
  • i’ll wait for you by AGirlNamedWhiskey * - Betty Cooper just wanted to survive her Senior year, but after being coerced into covering an underground racing competition, against a rival school, she knew her life would never be the same. Especially, when she meets the infamous street racer, Jughead Jones. 
  • space and time by agirlnamedwhiskey * - After their abrupt breakup, Jughead Jones is on a mission to win back Betty Cooper. 
  • living with betty cooper by believe_that_you_can_my_friend  - Jughead Jones, facing the reality of having nowhere to stay anymore after the Drive-In gets shut down, finds temporary shelter at the Blue & Gold office. But what happens when an upset Betty Cooper catches him on the act? 
  • red sunrise by lusterrdust -  Lifting her hand up, her thumb twirls the band on her ring finger until the diamond digs into her pinky. She pushes the jewel against the skin until it stings, redirecting her emotional pain into the physical.

fluff 

  • once upon a coffee shop by javajunkie * -  Betty works at a coffee shop where Jughead is a regular customer. 
  • your eyes look like coming home by ariquitecontrary - Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones who have both seen the world in color since they met each other when they were two years old. Everyone always says that they’re so lucky to have met when they were so young, that they have their whole lives to be together and in love. There’s just one teeny tiny problem. Betty and Jughead hate each other. 
  • foldin’ clothes by birdlovesafish -  Jughead contemplates he and Betty’s situation and he does laundry. 
  • it happened one starry night by one_starry_night 
  • skin to skin by burgerheadjones * - Jughead Jones doesn’t know how the crimson crescents ended up on his palms.Betty Cooper is clueless when it comes to the messages on her arms.Soulmate AU where all the little marks and injuries belonging to Betty and Jughead start finding themselves on each other’s skin. 
  • drop in the ocean by lusterrdust - She can feel the tickle and scrape of coarse sand against their bare legs, but pays it no mind. Her focus is consumed with her boyfriend’s touch and the trail of heat his fingers leave against her skin. 
  • the exception to the rule by ShirlyGallagher 
  • do you believe in fate? by Jennimisk * - Is there such a thing as a coincidence? Or do we create our own reality because of the choices we make and the people that we let into our lives? Regardless of what you believe, sometimes you just need to be open to what the universe is throwing your way.This is a non-canon AU work based on Jughead and Betty during their college years. They have no prior relationship before meeting in Rome, Italy. 
  • dry run by Naoko Asakura - She drew a line and offered to let him cross it. 
  • lost and found by lusterrdust - Maybe as a seventeen-year-old, sneaking kisses with the blonde he’d been in love with at the time—maybe he’d had a thought or two of her as a mother; a boy’s fantasy of the blissful domesticity he never had. 
  • red lipstick by lusterrdust -  She pulls the passenger mirror down and wipes her red lipstick off, smudging the color across her skin and marking it in a way that reminds Jughead of bee stung lips after a kiss. 
  • to the first of many by jugandbettsdetectiveagency - Betty’s first Mother’s Day begins with a not-so-welcome wake up from Hot Dog. 
  • first apartment by peacelovebughead - A short series of one-shots of Bughead in their first apartment

series

  • break free and run by sylwrites - A Bughead college AU set in Boston; featuring Veronica and Betty as roommates, and Jughead living off campus with his dad. 
  • fall in light by sylwrites * 
  • like home by lusterrdust * 
  • bizarre love triangle by ficmuse * - When Jughead stumbles upon the yearbook from the Class of 1991, secrets are revealed that will forever alter how the teens of Riverdale view their parents.
A Finite Amount of Love

The first time Rose did it, it was out of ignorance.

The second was desperation.

The third time she did not do it. If she had, it would have been purely malicious.

She resisted it the fourth time too, and the fifth, the sixth and the seventh. 

The eighth time she never got the choice: she died first.

The first, though—the first was Adam. An eager and honest bucktooth man with blond hair in ringlets that reminded Rose just a bit of her own. Adam was the first human Rose fell in love with, and it was different. It wasn’t her normal human love, that soft and gentle maternal kind. This love was bubbly and effervescent. It was walks alone just the two of them that felt giddy and new and anxious eager jolts in her mind of touching his skin and investigating his lips and getting close, close like humans do, in a way that wasn’t fusion.

And 58 was far too young an age, Rose thought, for Adam to fade. He burst out in sores that corrupted his human form and could not heal, would not heal, and no human could save him. So Rose did. Adam died, and Rose shed just enough tears to bring him back into existence.

Things didn’t change all at once. For years nothing was different than the novelty of Adam’s ringleted hair truly matching Rose’s. But humans experience the passing of decades different from Gems. Adam grew solemn when all his friends died. He made new ones. Then 50 years later, they all died as well.

Adam’s body remained healthy. But it seemed the human mind wasn’t equipped for centuries of life. Maybe humans had a finite amount of love packaged into them, meant to well up from the soul for 70 or 80 years at most. Adam ran out of love. He packed his things, just a single bag on his shoulder, and he told Rose he would leave forever.

Rose let him go, but her heart still broke, because Gems work on a much larger time scale.

Samuel was the next man in her life, a mere 30 years later, and he was spry, bubbly, energetic, overflowing with a sort of giddy love that Rose felt would last and last. She swept him up in her arms and spun with him on the briny beach front, her bare feet molding in the sand as they swirled and danced, day after day, year after year. She and Samuel married, as was a custom among Samuel’s kind, and he gathered a batch of humans larger than Rose had seen since the victory against Homeworld.

Samuel turned 75 faster than Rose could measure. He was gray and worn, thin and knotted at the joints, senile and immobile when Rose still wanted to dance with him on the beach. He did not wake up one morning, and it was too soon for Rose. She wept, honest heavy wet tears that poured the life back into a husk that dried too soon.

Samuel lasted another 75 years after that. But he burned down, slower than Adam but still the same. His human light died. He wept too hard for his family and friends, for the children of his first marriage and his children’s children, and their children… He grew solemn, and cold, and inconsolable, and one day he told Rose he wanted to explore the ocean with his infinite age. Alone. Without her. His human love had burnt itself to the wick.

The heartache hit worse. Rose gave her hand and heart and time to no other man for decades. Not the curious sailors who came hat-in-hand to the Temple. Not the outcast townsfolk who came to investigate the myths of the magical women out by the briny shore. She waited, and waited, until that ache in her chest grew too heavy, and she let a young and spindly man named Wilson woo her. He took her out to sea on a rickety hand-crafted boat, and he pointed out the wonders of the vast sea to her, and Rose wondered silently if ever they might cross Samuel’s path.

Wilson grew old when Rose was not paying attention. She went to visit him one day, and found only a sickly man curled up in bed, breathing in wheezes, blinking through milky eyes. Garnet found her that evening, Garnet with the ability to see the paths laid out ahead of her. She warned Rose not to follow through this time, and Rose did not. And Wilson died.

Mark with the thick orange brows was slowly whittled down to thin scraggly gray hairs, like fuzzy caterpillars resting on his lip and brow the day he died. Seth had only hit 30 when his carriage was lost off the side of the road in a blizzard, his body found days after. Wallace made it to 76. Jeremy to 64…

When she met Greg, Rose reached a selfish conclusion. She would be the human this time. She would be the human wife that Adam, Samuel, Wilson, Seth, Mark, Wallace, Jeremy never had…she would be the one to give him a child.

And she would die first this time.

The other men had seemed so peaceful when they passed, Rose thought in hindsight. A life well-lived. A life fulfilled. Not like Adam, not like Samuel, whittled down to husks and then nothing but a puppet on strings, in a body strewn about, too spent and stressed for a human. She wanted to know that peace of a life lived to its end. She wanted to pass on her chance of experiencing the world to a new human, a new generation, like all humans were so happy to do.

Rose died first. Steven lived on.

Lars has not visited Beach City in centuries. Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst still live there, he knows that, but he never knew them well. He never properly met the green and blue ones either.

He travels sometimes. Mostly he lingers. Wherever he ends up. It’s all a blur. Where he’s been and where he’s going. Just not Beach City. He’s visited those old homes too many times, and he saw them all demolished over time. Nothing’s left for him there.

Lars does not quite know where he is. He does not particularly care. It’s indoors, and dim, and a man is logging orders on a holographic tablet one table over. It’s a restaurant of sorts. Lars doesn’t need to eat, but if he orders a coffee, they will probably let him linger longer.

Lars stares out the window. He does that often. He’s run out of other things to do over the years. He’s gotten numb to most of it.

A shadow of a man slides into the booth with Lars. He takes the space on the opposite side of the table. He’s wearing a rain poncho, a thin and ultra-light orange material for maximum hydrophobic effect. He looks old, eyes lined with wrinkles beneath the hood. Lars swallows the urge to ask him what he wants as the man lowers the hood.

His hair cascades in ringlets, each the same pale and luminous pink as the hair on Lars’ head.

He sticks a hand out, and offers a thin smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

“I’m Adam. I noticed your hair from the other side of the bar. Sorry to intrude, but could we talk a moment…?”

{PART 28} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Tricking Yoongi proves to be easier than you could have ever hoped, as you stumble upon just a taste of what your awakened abilities can achieve. However, in your haste to serve Yoongi punishment for his crimes; you and Jungkook learn that that life and death are just a means to an end - for every living thing…must one day, die.

“To play God not only means to give life; but take it as well. As she stared into the abyss, it stared right back at her…and she finally realised the true meaning behind all things living; even herself.”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} //{Part 27} {Part 28} {Part 29}

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Sweet Creature

Click here if you’d like to listen to the song to help set the mood. x

It was one of those days.

Harry adored his job. He really did. His work was his first love, he always said. But there were certainly days where it all got to be a little too much.

He woke up at six in the morning to be greeted by a rainy and foggy sky outside. He spent a good ten minutes gazing at the great love of his life, her hair splayed in all different directions from having forgotten to tie it up in a ponytail like she usually did. Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyes were still puffy from the night before. He exhaled a sigh at the memory of it—it was the first time they’d really fought in a little while, but it’d been a doozy. Exhaustion took it’s toll on the both of them, but they were both too stubborn to admit it. It had been over something petty that he wasn’t even angry about anymore, even though at the moment in all seemed so important. And even though they tried to never go to bed angry, their tired eyes beat out the need to make up.

He exhaled a soft sigh as he watched his love, and he could see the tension built up in her features still from last night. He didn’t want to wake her just yet, because he knew that she would not love being woken up at six in the morning if she didn’t need to get up. The two of them rarely ever got a good night’s sleep anymore, and he didn’t want to take away her rest.

He got himself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, going about his morning routine as quietly as possible as to not wake his girls. Within half an hour he was dressed up in a pair of black jeans and one of his button-ups. Usually he wouldn’t get so dolled up to go out this early, but he had a few morning radio shows he was making a live guest appearance on and impressions mattered to him. Having decided to get breakfast on the way to work, he quickly slipped out of the house without making a sound.

The rest of the day didn’t get any better.

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My (Personal) GOT7 Analysis and why i love them so much

BamBam: cute af; a baby who is shedding his innocent image faster than the speed of light; super proud of his bff yugyeom’s dancing; knows everyone loves him and loves it; was so tiny(literally) when he first met jackson and mark; only problematic when he wants attention from his hyungs; hyungs are so proud of how he’s grown; quick to tell fans if he genuinely thinks they’re beautiful; KING OF FASHION; when he argues with yugyeom they probably make up 2 mins later; OWNED the karaoke episode of GOT7ing and made is bandmates so happy

Choi Youngjae:  the voice, the sun, the laugh; takes particular enjoyment in picking on Jackson and receiving love and/or spanking from JB; unproblematic af; so awkward and pure; makes every situation better by laughing out of the blue; so cute; called sunshine for a reason; loves learning and speaking english;  (i want to play video games with him so bad); loves his puppy CoCo more than life itself

Jackson Wang: proud AmeriThaiKong member; stans his bandmates; one of the most openly physically affectionate (kissed a guy on the lips on SNL too); probably mad he can’t date his bandmates (was super happy when he could date jinyoung); variety show king; loves picking on youngjae; loves being extra; small friendship things break his heart i.e. telling mark he misses rooming with him and bringing him shampoo; wears his heart on his sleeve; would marry mark and follow him to pluto; would remember the first time he met you and what you wore and said like he remembers mark had dark hair and an umbrella; respects his parents SO MUCH; a meme

Jinyoung:  hot af and knows it; looks like a wealthy prince who escapes to hang with his adorable band; could win an oscar probably; uses his amazing bum for attention; gets jealous easily and it’s rlly hot and scary; savage; happily involved in a GOT7 love triangle w Mark/Jackson; is JB’s wife; loves kissing his bandmates and is one of the most easily annoyed but also physically affectionate; has an angsty love/hate relationship with yugyeom that’s hot af, probably has dreams about him where they do things other than argue if you know what i mean

JB: King; most baddass leader in town; can probably calm his bandmates down with the sound of his voice; intimidating but super sweet with fans; could probably be president; glows when he smiles and laughs; has some of the most interesting fashion choices; is super cute with the macknae line; would marry youngjae; is super attracted to youngjae; already married to jinyoung;  probably can read jinyoung’s thoughts at this point; charismatic af; skydived with zero fear and glowed afterward; secretly a superhero

Kim Yugyeom:  danced on hit the stage and shook his fans and bandmates to the core; effortlessly talented; bandmates think he’s too nice, i.e. jinyoung wanting to toughen him up; enjoys picking on jinyoung and is always shook when he compliments him; if he aint your bias he will wreck your bias list if you watch hit the stage; WATCH HIM ON HIT THE STAGE; has a crush on jinyoung and chris brown;  loves his 97′ friends like BamBam and Jungkook more than words can say; claimed to be innocent but then he grinded on Hit the Stage and impregnated e v e r y o n e

Mark Tuan: loved and respected by everyone; the eldest; tries to internalize everything but breaks down in front of his bandmates if he needs love/hugs; clingy af; pranks fuel him; super good at reading everyone’s feelings; lives for extreme sports; would marry jackson in 2 seconds; would marry jinyoung too; one of the members besides jackson and jinyoung who is the most physically affectionate; gorgeous; bandmates love staring at his face; shy but wild, seemingly fearless, parasailed and skydived on Hard Carry and broke me; fucks w gravity 25/7; kissing level 10000 i.e. dipping BamBam on kiss the radio simultaneously wrecking BamBam and everyone

GOT7 as a whole:  A GIANT SHIP; A SPACESHIP;  CREATED MUSIC VIDEOS ABOUT SAVING EACHOTHER,  WILL DESTROY YOU AND RAISE YOU FROM THE DEAD;  WEAR MAKEUP SO WELL THEY WILL MAKE YOU WATCH MAKEUP TUTORIALS;  THEY FCKING LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH I WANT THEM ALL TO BE IN ROMANCE MOVIES WITH EACHOTHER; CUTE; DORKY; GAY AF; HAS 19384572308 SHIPS AND THEY’RE ALL IMPORTANT; 7 OR NEVER, 7 OR NOTHING; INVENTED THE WORD FRIENDSHIP

Marichat Day 14: Aged-Up Chat Noir

“Marinette, stay behind me,” Chat Noir warned, keeping one arm thrown back behind him in her direction.

Older Chat leaned against the balcony railing, arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. “This really isn’t necessary. I’m literally you.”

Marinette peeked around Chat Noir’s back to study the older man. “Why are you here?”

“To see you, of course, Princess,” he winked. Chat Noir growled and the older man laughed, waving a hand. “Paon is learning how to use his powers of time travel. I’m the guinea pig. Don’t worry, my Lady will have me back in her arms  within an hour or so.”

“How do you know?” Marinette bypassed Chat Noir’s outstretched arm to his exasperated huff. 

Older Chat smiled at her. “Because it’s already happened for me.” He tilted his head in his younger version’s direction. “I remember it.”

Chat Noir furrowed his brow. “Why come here though? Why visit Marinette?”

“She knows why.” Older Chat gave her a knowing look. 

Marinette’s eyes widened and she blushed. Chat Noir looked at her incredulously. “What does that mean?!”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I think it’s okay. Do you mind if I talk to him alone?”

“What?!” he sputtered. “No. Absolutely not!”

“He’s you, kitty. There’s no one I trust more.” She cupped his cheek and smiled. “You can sit on my bed so you can still see us through the skylight.”

Chat Noir pushed out his bottom lip. “Fine, but I’m coming back up in five minutes no matter what.” He glared at his future self before dropping down through the skylight.

“I forgot how stubborn I could be,” Older Chat remarked, giving himself a finger wave.

“You know who I am,” Marinette said softly, stepping closer to him.

“You’re my Lady,” he whispered back. “I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see you like this again.”

“Like this?”

“Softer.”

“I don’t understand,” she confessed.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Just know it does me good to see you like this…to see you with him.”

“Do I tell you…him…” she shook her head. “Am I the one who tells Chat who I am first?”

Older Chat pursed his lips. “I really shouldn’t say anything. You warned me not mess anything up when I came back…”

“Can’t you give me one itty bitty hint, kitty?” she begged with a pleading smile.

Older Chat put a hand to his heart. “Low blow, my Lady. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“My Lady? D-did you just call her…” Marinette spun to see Chat Noir’s head poking out of the skylight. “Marinette?”

Marinette looked at Older Chat in terror. He winked. “You bast–”

A glowing blue light erupted from behind Older Chat, cutting off Marinette. “Come on, love. It’s time to come back home,” a familar voice said as a slender arm reached through the blue light. 

Older Chat kissed the hand reaching for him and turned back to the young pair. “See you in a few years, my Lady,” he said with a grin to Marinette. “Enjoy tonight, Adrien,” he finished with a wink before disappearing into the blue light.

Marinette spun on Chat Noir. “Adrien?!” 

Tantalizing

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Cumplay, Degrading Names, Angst, Intercourse, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Thigh Riding
Word Count: 5,965

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More things I've learned from fanfic

- John needs to either wear more chapstick or stop licking his lips so much….so….more chapstick it is.

- Never trust Sherlock when he says the hotel only had one room left.

- Chinese food is for reconciliation, Angelo’s is for hot dates.

- John can smell sneaky cigarettes from twelve miles away with a head cold.

- Nobody spoils a good mood like a sibling.

- Don’t worry, Sherlock, he’s either organizing his anger at The Nearest Pub or he’s kidnapped again.

- Doesn’t everybody love a good nip on the nape?

- Nothing spoils a good mood like an unexpected glance at an Almost Forgotten Scar.

- Neither Sherlock or John ever make the first move. They both set the other one up continuously until someone misunderstands, gets insulted, and they don’t talk for another three months.

- Everybody Hates Mycroft, the musical.

- Mycroft Pays for Everything, the opera.

Someone’s YA Dystopian Future novel is going to feature one character being a natural leader and then revealing:

“I was at the Fyre Festival in 2017.”

The whole camp went quiet, with the exception of Daran, who swore softly. Chelsea looked like she was about to cry; Pete laughed softly with disbelief. “You were at the Fyre Festival?”

Craig nodded slowly, his gaze not leaving the flames in front of him. “One of the first ones in. One of the last ones out.”

Susan furrowed her brow, trying to piece the words together. Would it be inappropriate to ask him? Was it a religious thing? A massacre?

“What’s a Fire Festival?” The question slipped from her lips before she could help it, and suddenly all eyes were on her–all except Craig’s. The fire still flickered inside them.

“There was just one. The Fyre Festival, with a ‘y’. They thought it was clever.” He sighed, stroked his beard, and shifted a little before continuing. “It was supposed to be a simple weekend in the Bahamas. Me and a bunch of other rich kids packed our clothes, gathered our things, and took a plane down south. Everything was going smoothly…but when we hit the first landing strip, that’s when we started to realize that something had gone awry. Instead of seeing a private beach in front of us, we saw a crowded tourist trap. We were promised private jets, fancy boats, the full VIP experience…” His eyes flicked up to her, and though his mouth curved up in a smile, the eyes did not share in it. “But none of that was anywhere to be seen. We thought it would be fine, all we had to do was get our things, make sure they were together, and they’d lead us to the hotel, but…it was already growing dark, and that’s when the luggage arrived. Unloaded from one of those giant storage containers, the big ones, like you see on the docks. Just tossed out to the crowd, one after another. No conveyer belts, no lockers, no express deliveries to the rooms…and it was when I finally got my bag, with a dented crease along the side, like it had been resting under someone’s golf clubs, that I realized: everything had gone wrong.

“Anyway, I’m standing there with this bag, and it occurs to me how hungry I am, so I start looking for the restaurant. I was young, and foolish…fortunately, Gabe was young and foolish, too, so we both headed off to find the restaurant, thinking it would be there.”

His smile widened, showing those teeth again. “There was no restaurant. They fed us sandwiches–small, flat, flimsy sandwiches, with that bread you see on a gas station shelf, and some meat they said was ham. A single wilted piece of lettuce and a piece of rubbery cheese were the condiments, if you could call them that…Gabe said he saw someone with a ketchup packet. I didn’t believe him. Served in a white styrofoam box.

“Anyway, this would be regal fare to us today, but back then, to us, it might as well have been cow dung. I saw three people vomiting their food right back out; the girl next to me saw the same thing, and she became number four. I don’t know how many of us managed to actually choke our way through the meal, or how many of us actually made it back to go onto the plane, but I do know this: there were two thousand of us left in that village when the last boat left the island. Two thousand of us left to fend for ourselves. 

“When the sun rose the next day, we were one thousand nine hundred and ninety four. Four of us were missing; two were dead. It was then that I realized that this was going to be a live-or-die situation. I chose to live.”


I would continue with this but it is late and I needed sleep an hour ago.

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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Older!Yuri Headcanons

- Yuri lets his hair grow to his waist because he looks fierce
- HE’S NOT IMITATING VIKTOR SHUT THE HELL UP
- He’s actually into edgy fashion, and gets a few piercings which he likes to show off every way he can
- (Lilia makes him remove most of them when he competes)
- He looks fucking good in crop tops and he knows it
- He’s a secret literature nerd and Beka just loves how he falls asleep with a book in his hands and reading glasses perched on his nose
- (… And a fluffy cat in his lap, can’t forger his precious princess)
- He manages to befriend a giant of a hockey player who likes to jokingly flirt with him (and if Yuri goes with it just to see if he can make Beka jealous… well, that’s another story)
- (spoiler alert: of course he can)
- When Viktor and Yuuri finally retire they become his coaches
- And yes, Yuri’s finally grown up enough to admit that he likes them both, but he still likes to complain and rant to Beka about how disgustingly sweet they are together
- Still, when a new skater disrespects Yuuri in front of him, Yuri fucking flips because HOW DARE HE
- The poor kid never stood a chance
- Also, Yuri’s much more intimidating now than when he was 15
- Like, he’s almost as tall as Viktor and he’s got shouders to match
- (… and abs, and arms, and thighs… not that Otabek’s noticed SHUT UP)
- (he totally noticed)
- (in fact he notices everyday)
- Even before they officially get together, Yuri likes to cuddle with Otabek and has no concept of personal space when it comes to him
- He’s like an overly large kitten
- Beka adores him so freaking much and Yuri’s the only one who doesn’t notice
- (the other way around is also true and Yuri pines for him SO HARD)
- Aleksei, his hockey friend, ships them together so much
- Yuri has a love/hate relationship with makeup and mostly likes his skin makeup free, but he does indulge in eyeliner every now and then
- He likes how it makes his eyes look, especially after Mila teaches him how to achieve an amazingly subtle flick
- He only wears a full face of makeup for competitions, and even then he draws the line at lipstick
- He HATES having stuff on his lips; Viktor actually has to force him to wear lip balm
- The fancy stuff Viktor buys him is actually not so terrible, not that he’d ever admit it to his face
- He’s especially grateful when Otabek kisses him out of the blue one night at the rink
- It’s not Yuri’s first kiss but it still makes his world shatter at the edges
- Beka calls him “Yura” in a breathy voice and Yuri’s fucking gone
- Four years of sexual tension come crashing down on them, and they have trouble remembering they’re not in their apartment
- They do, in fact, share an apartment
- (Yuri was crazily happy when Otabek announced he was moving to  St. Petersburg)
- They’ve been living together for close to seven months when they finally get together
- It’s the morning after that fateful night when they realize that they’ve essentially been sharing a room for months, and Otabek’s stuff is already mostly mixed with Yuri’s
- Beka never quite stops being jealous of Aleksei
- (Actually, he does. But he loves how cute and cuddly Yuri is when he thinks he’s upset)
- Aleksei, the little shit that he is, figures this out early on and vows to never stop flirting with Yura


not sure if others have pointed this out yet but something has had me very ????? about the mural dizzee’s painting during his looks better now ;) conversation with thor. namely:

HEART??

so i went looking for that BTS tweet of this scene. even though jaden’s wearing a shirt from a different scene, that’s obviously thor’s ripped pink shirt and the mural in front of them, which we can see a lot more of:

dizzee’s painting rumi and thor with THE WEIGHING OF THE HEART written overtop of them, which, okay, Anubis the Egyptian God of the Dead, weighing the hearts of those who determine if they could go to the afterlife. on the left looks like a depiction of the god Thoth, who recorded the findings of the heart weighing. if anyone wants to jump in and explain this better - please do!

the phrase makes sense because you can clearly see that rumi and thor are actually framed by a balance scale, with dizzee and thor’s bodies (sort of perfectly?) blocking the weighing pan on rumi’s side:

this fits really well with all of the references to death in this scene (the song that plays here, “i’m ready to die now,” etc.) and… i find it pretty reassuring?? i think it’s very indicative of dizzee’s last scene as a metaphorical death/becoming, and less about death and more about rebirth. it’s not foreshadowing; it’s a continuation of dizzee’s opera metaphor

especially because on April 8th stephen adly guirgis tweeted this to reassure fans about dizzee:

so, they left it open, but imo jaden’s coming back and this is all representative, as SAG says, of the journey dizzee’s taking to discover himself, sexuality, etc. dizzee’s also aware of how death has been a changing metaphor, ie: the construction of rumi the alien being killed at the opera, his development, he decides that rumi and thor are going to the opera, and dizzee just before this scene saying to boo “you gotta not apologize for being an alien”

and it’s fitting that most of this narrative happens around thor because that’s the only time dizzee’s allowed to be himself/free and with someone who understands him. also: you’re losing your vitamin C when they first meet to just one kiss from his lips is like taking vitamin C when they’re going to the party?? the fact that they’re literally, canonically confirmed to be in love with each other via dizzee’s POV??? dizzee and thor’s relationship being the entire reason mylene and the soul madonnas had their record played? the constant use of the word “free” in the show centering around them?? this show…. is not subtle about how important their relationship is

i could be pulling something out of nowhere, but TGD has always put significant thought into the details/art/music/dialogue/framing of each scene, so it feels important that this is here. if nothing else, it’s pretty interesting and i find it more comforting that dizzee is approaching the idea of “death” as a becoming and is entirely aware of it - the last scene being a hallucination makes a lot more sense imo with these visuals in mind

LOOK!! they are literally painting each other as their avatars here. the stripes on thor’s armour and rumi’s jacket. thor’s star. dizzee’s jacket cut into coattails. the tophat that thor puts on at one point and ends up by dizzee’s head on the mattress. they are in love and want to go on a journey together. we are blessed

Inktober Day 5: Sad

I’m okay

Early Morning Teasing

Group: BTS

Pairing: JUNGKOOK X READER

Excerpt: ‘ you turned your face to the side waiting for him to get angry, loving the rush of adrenaline that ran through your veins at the thrill of riling him up for the fun of it.’

Genre: fluff

Length: 1k

A/N: the fluffiest thing i think i’ve ever written

Originally posted by ultranicolet

The sunlight filtered into the room, stirring you from your sleep as you moved around vaguely aware that there was an arm over your chest, you wriggled trying to get a look at whose arm it was, brown hair splayed over his forehead and fast asleep, Jeongguk frowned slightly before turning his head a few times before settling. A few small snores left his mouth, his arms and legs were splayed on the bed and you tried to ease yourself out from under them, to no avail.

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Inexorable (1)

So I thought, why not combine that shit and make it a mini-series or something? I really hope you two anons enjoy it! No idea how many parts there will be. We shall see. Gif isn’t mine, cred goes to the owners! 1,560 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, a little crack, (Eventual) Smut, Mafia au!

Part 1 | Part 2

Everyone’s heard of blind dates – never of blind marriages, not even in the mafia world. Yet, here you were, walking down the aisle, your hand latched onto your father’s arm, towards a young man you had never seen before. 

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to him, let alone this being the first time you actually got to see his face. There was so much rage bubbling inside you at the moment, but it was all hidden behind a small smile.

Combining two mafia organizations together was a huge deal; something bosses usually agreed on with the exchange of girls, but considering Red Python was one of the most powerful organizations in the country, they wouldn’t want just any girl. They wanted a suitable bride for the heir of said organization.

And your father, being the great, generous man he was, suggested you.

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Sunday Morning

Summary: A young man and a young woman run into one another on a Sunday morning at a coffee shop, both of them heartbroken, and rediscover what it means to love and be loved. Bucky x Reader 

 Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this one for a bit. It’s basically the feel-good romance no one ever expected me to write (me included) 

 Words: ~2900

Originally posted by writingandcoffeehouse

Bucky used to love Sunday mornings. They were meant for sleeping in, for curling against the soft, tender body that slept next to him.

They’d had five years of Sunday mornings, of her soft sighs in his ear as she stirred from her sleep, bright green eyes blinking sleepily up at him as he kissed her plush, pink lips. Five years of Sunday mornings, of making coffee in a pair of boxers; of her arms wrapping around him from behind, a soft cheek against his bare back. Five years of Sunday mornings, of sitting at the breakfast bar in their pajamas, her thumb wiping jelly off the corners of his mouth.

Five years of Sunday mornings, wasted.

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