look at his disbelieving little face

Body Heat

Request: Can you write a Sirius Black x Reader but the reader is James’ sister and Sirius tries to flirt with the reader and James is all like are you flirting with my sister and Sirius fires back or something?
Warning(s): Bar scenes, drinking, swearing, intense hugging(?), major Sirius feels. Honestly, just look at the title.
Note: This is my first Marauders’ imagine, so feedback is appreciated.

⇢  A Sirius Black x Reader work where the reader is James’ younger twin sister.


Most brothers preferred to keep their social life separate from their siblings’. James Potter was no exception. Which is why, when Lily and Marlene urged you to meet the Marauders at the bar with them, you fervently declined.

“A bar? Filled to the brim with drunkards? James would never let me out of his sight,” you argued, moving away as Marlene approached you with a tube of lipstick. “I’m not going.”

She crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out. “Please, Y/N.” Marlene gestured at your attire: Black hot pants and a long sleeved crop top. “You’re already dressed for it.”

You glared down at your outfit, tugging at the hem of your shorts. “I didn’t know you guys chose clothes for me to wear to a bar.”

“What did you think? Your arse is hanging out for tea with the Minister of Magic?”

Lily gave Marlene a warning look as you flushed a bright red. “Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Your arse is not hanging out.” She paused, giving you a once over. “Well…You’ll blend in, at least.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “James is going to kill me.”

“So what?” Marlene interjected. “He’s your brother, not your dad. Who cares what he thinks?”

I do; he’s my brother.”

A slight snort came out from Lily. “Marlene is right. You’re your own woman. You shouldn’t let the opinion of that arrogant toerag dictate your decisions.”

You and Marlene exchange glances. It was quite obvious that, over the years, James’ crush was becoming less unrequited. And although it was disturbing at first, you quickly accepted the idea that one of your best friends fancied your brother.

“You mean that arrogant toerag you so happen to like?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Lily raised hers back defiantly. “I don’t like James Potter.”

“Yeah, right,” Marlene scoffed. “That’s like saying Y/N doesn’t have the hots Sirius Black.”

You frowned, ignoring the slight amount of heat rising to your cheeks. “But I don’t.”

Now it was Lily and Marlene who gave each other incredulous looks. It was clear neither of them believed your poorly concealed lie. They knew, no matter how much you denied it, that you had developed a crush on Sirius the moment he gave you a bundle of white flowers for Christmas. Just the thought of his hand brushing against your cheek as he tucked a single flower behind your ear made your butterflies come alive.

“Let’s pretend, for now, that we believe you.” Marlene checked the time. “But in this moment, I hear the firewhisky calling my name. Are you coming?”

“Sirius will be there,” Lily sang.

You threw your head back defeat. “Fine.” You paused. “But not because I want to see Sirius.”

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I AM SO INTO THIS SHIT YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I tried to make them kinda different, but in the end they still wound up pretty similar, Please Forgive.

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Marinette Cake

Marichat May Day 2: Purring

Ao3 Link || Other Works

Summary: Chat Noir was very hungry.

And Marinette smelled nice.

Really, really nice.


Meant to be a short drabble, became longer and lead to an identity reveal. Oh well, it was fun to write. c: Hope you enjoy!


Chat Noir was just going home after a lunchtime akuma, and he was starving. He could feel his energy draining from him, and if it weren’t for the suit, he’d probably be collapsed somewhere, starving to death. Then he would die and his father would be arrested for parental neglect. Ladybug would never know what happened. His classmates would mourn…

Speaking of classmates.

He stopped on top of the school when he caught a glimpse of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, holding a sack of flour on her shoulders. She and her father seemed to be unloading some sacks from a delivery truck right outside their bakery. He watched as Marinette put down her sack next to a small towering pile and roll her shoulders as she entered the truck to grab another one, passing her father who had one sack on each shoulder.

He whistled as she easily hoisted another one on her shoulders, impressed. He never knew she was that strong. She always looked so small and soft that seeing her easily carry a sack of flour that was half her size and probably twice her weight was quite a nice surprise.

Chat Noir would be a terrible hero if he didn’t go down there to lend a helping paw. Maybe he could ask for a croissant as repayment. Just one. He was just so hungry, and they were nice people so they’d at least give him one, right?

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3

Requested.

A small giggle left your mouth as Liam trailed kisses down your neck, making you shiver in anticipation. Your nails dug into his back, enjoying the sensation of his lips making contact with your skin. He pulled away, a sly grin his face as he bunched the edge of your t-shirt in his hands. This was his favorite part.

“Liam,” you warned, knowing what he was about to do. By now, he owed you ten shirts. His grin grew wider. “Liam Dunbar.”

Your plead fell on deaf ears. With a quick jerk, he tore your t-shirt straight up the middle, exposing your chest and lacy, black bra. A pleased growl rumbled through Liam’s chest, his eyes darkening as he took you in. He reached out, hooking a finger around the middle of your bra. You whimpered as he leaned forward, brushing his whole body along yours, certain parts grinding against others.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you grumbled, gasping when his extended claw cut your bra in half. “You owe me a new one.”

A breathy laugh left Liam’s mouth. “Along with those ten shirts. I know.” He winked, pulling the tattered remains of your bra out from underneath you and throwing it at your bedroom door.

As soon as your bra smacked against the door, it swung open, revealing Stiles. Your older brother.

You let out a scream, fumbling for your blanket to hide yourself from Stiles. Liam scrambled off the bed, making a dive for his jeans that were draped over the back of your desk chair.

“What the fuck, Liam?” Stiles yelled, face growing red with anger as he watched Liam hastily pull up his jeans. “Y/N?”

“Stiles, it’s not what it looks like,” you tried, but all you got was a disbelieving look from your brother. He turned away, running a hand through his hair. “Stiles, please.”

Stiles spun around, eyes full of anger. “Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?” He shouted, glaring eyes switching between you and Liam. “And you! She’s my little sister!”

“I-I…” Liam fumbled for words, and so did you, neither of you knowing what to say to defend yourselves.

“Stiles? What’s going-” Scott appeared in the doorway, words falling to a halt when he took in the scene before him. Once the pieces clicked together, his eyes started glowing red. Your face blanched. The two of you were about to die. “Liam, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? There is no way in hell you are about to get out of this one alive.”

Scott stalked across your bedroom as he spoke his last sentence. Liam gave him his signature puppy dog look, in a last ditch attempt to maybe get out of this one alive. Scott grabbed Liam by the back of the neck, dragging him from your room, growling the whole way out.

Stiles looked back at you and you shrunk underneath his gaze as he pointed a finger. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this. We’ll be back for you once we’re done with him.”

Prodigy Lance Fic Part 7!!!!

Lance chocked on a gasp as his back slammed against the wall, air rushing out of his lunges. Momentarily paralyzed from the impact, he crumbled to the ground. “LANCE!!” ‘Wa-was that Keith?’ Lance thought. He didn’t know, his brain felt cloudy all of a sudden. He logically knew that he was on the brink of unconsciousness, which he would gladly welcome. Everything hurt. And the Galra soldier wasn’t finished with him yet. But as said Galra grabbed a fist full of his hair and punched him in the ribs, he couldn’t come to regret his decision. It was apart of his plan after all. It was rather simple to be honest. The Galra were bigger hotheads than Keith, by a very large margin. All it took was for Lance to toss a few irritating comments and throw around insults for the Galra to get rilled up enough to release the cuffs from Lance’s hands by keying in a certain code and saying something in Galran into an alien like computer. Lance smirked. *Bingo* That smirk didn’t last long as he was getting the ever loving shit beat out of him. The Galra was shouting at him, probably insults, but Lance couldn’t hear him. It was as if he were underwater. He slowly raised a hand to his ear, and when he brought it back, it was painted red. ‘Oh. That probably explains it.’ The Galra grabbed Lance by the wrist and sneered right in his face. “You pathetic waste of space. You call yourself the Blue Paladin, the defender of the universe, and yet you crumble at a single punch. Disgusting.” “You know, if you’re gonna get this close to my face, could you please use a breath mint? Surely you have space TicTacs or something cause holy quiznak, have you ever brushed your teeth?” Lance was replied with a punched to the jaw, and the force of it made it him slide against the wall. Stars bursts across his eyes. He knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he needed to stay awake. He had to. For his team. The Galra braced his hands against the wall, and began to kick Lance, over and over again, anywhere he could kick. After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped. The Galra wiped sweat off his brow. “I’m not finished with you yet. When I come back..heh, well you’ll just have to wait and see.” And then he was gone. Lance stayed on the ground, tears streaking down his face, ragged breathes rocking his body. “Lance! Lance! LANCE!!!” came a broken shout. 'Yep, definitely Keith.’ Lance slowly raised up, and his legs nearly crumbled against his weight. He tried to access the damage his body had just received, but his vision was obstructed by a swollen, black eye that almost made his eye completely shut. From what he could see, he had infinite bruises and scratches, he was bleeding somewhere, probably in multiple places because his whole front was almost covered in crimson. And with the wheezing and struggle to breath, he was pretty certain he had a few broken ribs and some internal bleeding. Forgetting his pain, on wobbly legs, he made his way to the computer. He ignored the shouts from his worried teammates. If he saw their faces, he might fall apart. He reached the computer, and it was all in Galran. “Lance, what are you doing?? It’s all in their language, come over here and we’ll figure something out! Please, don’t hurt yourself even more!” Pidge cried out. Lance tilted his head toward her and sent her a small smile. “It’s okay Pidgeon..I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you guys.” “What are you-” Lance turned around and in clear, perfect Galran, repeated the phrase the Galra said. The computer came to life under Lance’s fingertips. He couldn’t help but smirk. 'Too easy.’ Lance glances and the keys and he could easily read and understand what they were. Lance quickly went to work, hands flying against the keyboard. Lance’s brain took over. He no longer felt the pain in his head or his body. His minded was zeroed in. “Lance..how-what-?” “Their firewall is pretty elementary which is surprising. Of course it’s more advanced than the Garrison’s but come on, even a child could break through that firewall. I thought I would’ve had to bring out the big guns, but no. You would think they would have a stronger security than this. It would be easy to create. For example, there is this one line of code that you can place as a trap. If anybody tries to break through, it attacks them back, destroys their technology. It’s quite effective.” He chuckled. In the back of his mind, Lance knew he was rambling. He couldn’t really help it when he was in Prodigy Mode. That’s what his family called it when he got like this. As Lance typed, he couldn’t see the shocked and disbelieving looks on his teammates faces. “Ah! There it is! Just the one I was looking for! Just a few more seconds and you’ll be-” the doors of the room busted wide, and the Galra looked at him murderously. Lance froze as he noticed that in one hand, the Galra had a knife. “Why you little piece of-” the insult died on his tongue as he charged toward Lance. Lance tried to move, to defend himself, but his legs gave out from beneath him. The Galra was on top of him, pining his weight to the ground, and he slowly raised the knife to his chest. Keith thrashed wildly against his cuffs. “LANCE, NO! I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU SONOFABITCH DO YOU HEAR ME? DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!” The Galra raised up bringing Lance with him. “Oh, I see what’s going on here…I wonder how the red Paladin would react if he had to watch his precious blue bleed out. Right in front of his eyes.” Lance closed his eyes, crying softly. “It’s okay guys. I’m sorry I failed, but I knew this was coming.” He gave them a weak smile. “Lance…” “Enough of this sob story! It’s time for you to die!” Just as the Galra was about to thrust the knife through him, a deafening crash rang around them, and one of the walls shattered. Lance chocked and gagged as the dust settled when he heard Keith murmur “…Red?” It was, in fact, the Red Lion…but his back was toward Keith and the others. Red was looking directly at Lance and the offending Galra. Lance stared in shock and disbelief. Unfortunately the Galra was the first to react. He grabbed Lance by the shoulder, and buried the knife deep into his abdomen. Lance made a gurgling noise from the back of his throat as his mind went blank and all he could feel was a searing white, hot pain. “LANCE!!!” Lance couldn’t respond, his eyes wide. A roar ripped from the Red Lion and he attacked the Galra. Lance’s hand slowly reached down to the gaping, bleeding wound. His brain took over once more. His body slowly taking him back to the computer keys. “Lance! Come back right now!” “Lance, it’s not worth it!” “Please, stop!” “You’re gonna hurt yourself even more!” Lance ignored his team. His fingers reached the keyboard and he typed the final line of code. The team’s cuffs fell to the ground, just when Lance did. A broken “L-Lance!” ripped from Keith’s throat as he ran to him. He pulled Lance into his lap, trying to stop the bleeding. “Come on Lance, stay with me! You can’t leave me, you idiot, you can’t!” Tears were starting to spill from his eyes. Lance smiled weakly again. “Looks like we’re having another bonding moment. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever remember this one.” “Lance, please. It’s okay if you don’t remember, I don’t care. Just please stay awake, please stay with me.” Lance grabbed his hand and gave him a small smile. The team gathered around him, Pidge and Hunk sobbing while Shiro had a dark look in his eyes. “It’s alright guys.” Lance closed his eyes, welcoming the calming darkness. “It was all part of the plan.”

Why Choose Him?

Anon asked: can you write something about michael getting a boyfriend and jeremy being super fucking jealous??

Haha, can I? I think absofuckinglutely. I fucking love this prompt

Jeremy wasn’t happy that he lost five bucks on a bet- the bet being who could get a boyfriend/girlfriend first. But as much as Jeremy kept telling himself he needed those five dollars to pig out on Doritos, there was something else putting a bitter taste in his mind.

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Forgotten Fantasies

summary: natasha wants y/n to fulfill all her sexual fantasies before they tie the knot in a few months. all that’s left is a few minor things that can be ticked off the list without a problem. however, y/n forgot to mention one fantasy in fear of hurting nat’s feelings. lucky for her, natasha can read her like an open book.

pairing: natasha x reader, bucky x reader

word count: 6.4k+

requested: yes

warnings: unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), oral sex, threesome, biting, dirty talk, choking, really rough bucky?? literally can’t believe i wrote this filth

a/n: request things here and let me know what you think.

also message me if you wanna be tagged in my works x

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Sprace- Soulmate AU (Markings)

Race slammed his lunch tray on the cafeteria table. “When I meet my soulmate I’m kicking their ass.”

A small laugh bounced around the table. Race’s soulmate was notorious for getting into fights, which usually resulted in Race covered in marks. None of the bruises or occasional cuts actually hurt, but he was still pissed each time he woke up with new ones.

“So the glasses,” Mush began with a chuckle, “Do you really have a-”

“Of course I fucking do.” Race sat down and took off his sunglasses to reveal a sickly yellow-green color coating almost the entirety of his left eye.

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anonymous asked:

69 - Swan Queen :) (bonus points if it's Emma saying it to Regina)

Emma took a little too long to notice. But when she did, she marched across Regina’s office and tried to grab at her hand.

“Why the hell are you bleeding?”

Regina glared up at her from her desk. She was doing her reading one-handed. But she was no worse for it.  

“I’m fine.”

But, against her will, Regina let her examine it. The bandage was sodden with blood and she winced as Emma opened it up.

“Regina, this needs stitches.” Emma looked around. “The dressing needs changing, at least. Do you have a first aid kit?”

“I said I was fine, Miss Swan. Do you need your hearing checked?”

Emma ignored her, and started to roll up Regina’s sleeve, finding yet another cut. Another bandage barely doing its job.

“Regina! What the hell…”

Regina yanked her arm away.

“Seems to me you need a lesson in personal boundaries.”

“That has to hurt,” Emma said. “Why are you so afraid to be human? I can take you to see Dr Whale right now.”

“Not on your life.”

Regina headed towards a far cabinet, and struggled one-handed to pull out the first aid kit. She refused Emma’s help and began to wind another bandage over her wound, roughly. She tried very hard not to let the pain show. When she looked back over at Emma, she found the other woman glaring.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Emma let out a breath, staring up at the ceiling in frustration.

“If someone hurt you, I need to know. You have every right to personal safety in this town, same as anybody else.”

“Thank you for that rousing speech,” Regina said, her voice cracking a little despite her attempt to be unmoved. “But nobody hurt me. It was….an accident.”

“I don’t believe you,” Emma said. “And if you don’t tell me the truth right now, I’m calling Dr Whale and getting him to make a house call with his home sewing kit.”

Regina glared at her, but Emma simply stared her down unflinchingly.

“Fine,” Regina said. “But you won’t like it.”

Emma crossed her arms, looking even more determined. Regina wanted to growl.

“I made a few miscalculations, and this is the result. It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

Emma frowned.

“This was a…magic thing?”

“All magic has a price.”

“Yes yes, I know. I’ve seen The Craft.”

Regina glared at her.

“Do I look like a ninties goth chick to you, Miss Swan?”

“Honestly?” Emma said. “A little? I mean, the way you looked in that…you know.”

She made a motion near her breasts, and seemed to regret it instantly, blushing. Regina fought the urge to smile.

“Excuse me? The Evil Queen was not some poor-me trailer park goth chick.”

Emma smiled beatifically, and Regina realized she was being toyed with. She sighed.

“So, a spell?’ Emma mused. Regina nodded, rolling her eyes. “Is that why you can’t heal it?”

“It’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Presuming you don’t bleed to death first.”

“Oh honestly, it’s a cut. Don’t be so melodramatic.”

“It’s a gash, across your whole hand!” Emma said, looking frustrated. “And your arm. And more, probably. Because I can tell when you’re hiding shit.”

“Am I meant to check with you every time I do a dangerous spell?”

“Yes!” Emma hissed, and then she faltered, blushing a little. “I mean…God Regina. I just….”

Regina watched her, warming a little at the way Emma looked at her in concern.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks, Emma.”

“Yeah?” Emma said, looking disbelieving. “Would you even have told me if you were doing something that could get you maimed? Why would you even do this?”

“It was just a little protection spell,” Regina said, forcing the words out. “Ok?”

“No, not ok. What the hell, Regina? Protection from what?”

“Well you may have noticed how often we are in the path of general calamity?” She sighed. “Is it too much for me to want my son and his mother to be safe? I don’t think it is!”

Regina paused then, realizing what she had admitted to. She felt her face grow hot, and she looked away. At the wall, at the floor. Anywhere but Emma.

“You wanted to protect me?” Emma said, in wonder.

“Of course I did,” Regina said, trying to sound haughty. But her voice wobbled a little. She felt Emma rather than saw her when she came closer. Letting out a breath, she allowed the comfort of Emma’s hand on her shoulder.

“It goes both ways, Regina,” Emma said softly. “Remember that.” And Regina tried to remain unmoved, but the warmth in Emma’s expression took her breath away. She merely nodded in response. And Emma let out a sigh, looking back down at Regina’s injury.

“Now, I am going to dress that properly,” she said, giving Regina a firm look. “And you are going to shut up and let me.”

Regina smiled.

anonymous asked:

congrats on 1000 love! 86 and kurt wagner?

86: “Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” ft Dat Boi (Kurt Wagner)

(Thank you so much! <3)

Part of my 1000 Follower Fun drabbles set

Originally posted by kvrtwagn3r

In her nightmares, (y/n) was falling.
Her body twisted and turned as she tumbled through the sky, screaming at the top of her lungs. Below her, the ground was rising up to meet her; jagged cliffs like metal teeth lunging out toward the storm.
She couldn’t breathe; couldn’t stop herself. She knew she wouldn’t survive this kind of fall; that it was all over.
As the rocks approached she raised her arms above her head, her voice piercingly loud-

(y/n) shot up in her bed, her covers drenched with sweat. She was panting heavily; her eyes scanning the room in fear.
She raised her palm to her forehead, wiping away the beaded sweat she found there. God, she just couldn’t get it together after Cairo. After everything she’d seen.
Suddenly, she heard a thud. Her heart sped up again, and she swung around.
She yelped in fear as a silhouette appeared by her bed; glowing orange eyes in the dark.
“It’s alright! It’s Kurt” a familiar voice cried out, tail thrashing in the moonlight.
“Kurt?!” she shouted, reaching over and flipping on the bedside light “what the hell are you doing here?!”
The light flickered, and Kurt stood up straight, holding his hand up to shield his eyes. He was wearing less clothes than usual; just a plain t-shirt and some old shorts. (y/n) realised she’d barely ever seen him out of his red jacket; and despite his lithe form, his upper arms had corded muscle she’d never seen before.
She swallowed, squashing that thought.
“I was…” Kurt began hurriedly, dropping his hand to his side “…playing cards. With Jean and Scott. Jean said you were having a terrible nightmare, and I…” he trailed off, looking over his shoulder “…I’m so sorry, I can leave…”
(y/n) gave a deep sigh, her heart slowing as she got to grips with her surroundings. As her wits came back, she began to breathe normally, began to see with more clarity.
“It’s alright Kurt. I was just in a bit of a state is all. Just…stay. For a little?”
Kurt nodded slowly, a disbelieving smile on his face. (y/n) shifted over slightly, giving Kurt a chance to sit down on the bed. 
Sitting down gently, his tail flicked in anticipation. He sat, looking at her, surveying her intently, making sure she was safe.
“Don’t be scared, I’m right here” he whispered affectionately, smiling with a softness to his features. She felt her heart sing with the carefulness of his actions and with him beside her she slowly drifted into a peaceful, restful sleep.

Where Are We?

Genre: Fluffy angst-ish, maybe

Character/s: Mark Tuan x Reader;

Warning/s: None at all, I guess

Summary: Mark’s not sure where things between the two of you lie… But maybe between the zone of being friends and being lovers.

A/N: I love Mark so much, it made me so excited to write this??? Anyway, here ya go! Sorry for taking quite long with it!

Originally posted by jypnior


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Distance

Synopsis: He still has to be chased, even when he is right next to her.

Length: 5734 words

Content Warning:  Rated T for language.

Notes: I have a big fat fucking art block again so here I am, writing some travelling SS headcanons down. I’ve been listening to a lot of Jessie Ware while I was writing this so get ready for a lot of relationship-related shenanigans. *wiggles around*



I. The Land of Wind


“I love you,” she says, out of the blue.

Her words catch him off guard and he freezes, unsure if he’d heard right.

They’d been standing together and surveying the vast expanse of sand that stretched out for miles beneath their feet. The stars that guided their way through the desert twinkled good-naturedly above them. The wind had picked up at that very moment, temporarily soothing the skin of his heated face.

He turns his head to look at her. Light green eyes, full of sincerity and a little of what he thinks is hope, steadily meet his gaze. There was no trace of irony, no hint of a smirk playing on her lips, no playful revising of her words in the seconds that followed. The way she said it was like how one would state what the weather was like today or if a particular meal had agreed with them or not- a simple fact.

It is a part of Sakura that he would never be able to understand. To her, this sentiment was a constant in her life, fixed to her (by perhaps some unknown entity with a twisted sense of humor) like the sun and moon were to day and night. To him, it was an unnatural, illogical, and most of all, terrifying variable.

Finding it difficult to look at her anymore, he turns his attention back to the distant horizon and tries to distract himself with other thoughts. He knows he should be grateful but in a way it irritates him to see that she thinks he is like some lovesick puppy, always wanting this constant, blatant reaffirmation of her love for him.

But what he hates, what he absolutely despises, is the fact that deep down he knows it to be true.


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anonymous asked:

1 and/or 17 please!

Hallaaa Anon! Sorry this took so long <3 

So I did 17 (Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…) first and 1 (Come over here and make me.) further down as little bonus  

The setting is an AU where Isak is in his 3rd year and Even is a student at UiO annnnnd yeah… :P if you dont like it feel free to yell at me <3 

Isak looked at the orange number change in the small elevator. The thing was making sounds as if it was offensive that someone really still wanted to ride in it. Stop at the 3, stop at the 3, stop at the- Yes!  

The thing was, Isak was living in a little shitty apartment on the fifth floor of an old building. His flat was directly under the roof which meant small windows and a low hanging ceiling. But he liked it. It was better than living with his parents and after Noora came back from London and Eskild got a boyfriend it got just too crowded for him in kollektivet.

His favourite thing about his new place though, was the fact that sometimes, when he took the elevator at in the morning and sometimes in evening (ok, Isak may or may not has the exact time narrowed down) he was joined by the hottest guy he has ever seen.

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BESTSELLER {part 10 of WE GOT MARRIED}

The morning sunlight hit your face and you slowly stretched your arms. Looking over at the man that was laying next to you, a smile appeared on your face. His closed eyes and innocently calm features were angelic in the morning. Lightly brushing his hair out of the way of his eyes, you giggled at the way he scrunched up his nose. After a large heavy breath from Namjoon, you looked over at your phone.

Meeting at 10, we need to talk about your book. Your manager had texted you and looking at the time, you nearly leapt out of your skin. Giving Namjoon a small kiss on the cheek, you left him a note to tell him you would be out, but the meeting shouldn’t take longer than an hour.

Bustling into your manager’s office, his face was stern.

I swear I can explain why I’m 3 minutes late! You started, but he simply put up his hand.

That’s not why I’m upset. I just got off the phone with our publisher … He began and you excitedly asked.

How are they liking the new book? I am super interested to hear their feedback! But one look at your manager’s grim face and you didn’t want to hear the answer. They don’t like it? Your disbelieving tone made your manager’s heart break a little.

Y/N, it’s not that they don’t like it, it’s just so different from what you usually write. They just want another bestseller. He said and you looked down at the draft that laid on your manager’s desk. Red marks were drawn all over it and you wanted to curl up.

Another bestseller? So it’s not about what I want to write, it’s solely about what sells. When have we ever been the type to give into that idea? You were angry now.

Well they have a point. They put a lot of faith in you and your writing, they rarely have you do re-writes or even make a lot of edits, so I think this is the least you can do! He defended the publishers, but you weren’t having it.

What about other publishing companies? You questioned and your manager shook his head.

That would be horrible for your reputation as a writer. Jumping from publisher to publisher. Why don’t you go home for a bit? Cool off, then we can talk. You manager said and handed you the critiqued draft of your book concept. Nodding without another word, you walked out of his office. The morning had now gone gray, the sun hiding behind clouds and it mimicked how you felt. At the moment, you wanted to cry, curl up next to Namjoon, and eat your weight in ice cream, but another part of you wanted to fight.

Namjoon woke up at around 10:30 to an empty bed. Pouting slightly at the lack of company, he wandered into the kitchen to find the note. Smiling at the heart you had put beside your name, he folded the paper and placed it in his pant pocket. He then went on his hunt for food and coffee, searching the cupboards and fridge for enough stuff to make a simple breakfast, and setting out the table for the two of you. Namjoon was ready to text you around 11:05 when you walked in the door. Your shoulders were slumped and your draft was in your hand.

Hey, babe! Namjoon exclaimed and walked up to you. Wrapping you up in his arms, he placed a kiss on your hair, but there was no reciprocation, no cute hello, just a depressed you standing enveloped in his arms. A wave a panic ran through his stream as he thought about you maybe regretting last night, but instead you handed him the draft to your book. It was the same one he had read nights prior, but now it was covered in red marks, the largest word on the from cover was UNPRINTABLE. He scanned a few of the comments, but could easily see why you were upset.

I guess this isn’t bestseller material. You mumbled into his chest and he rubbed your back. Placing the draft down on the table, he continued to calm you by massaging circles into your back. He heard you sigh and for once Namjoon didn’t know what to say. On one hand he could say to fuck those idiots for not seeing real talent, but another part understood that an investor might have different ideas of what kind of product he or she wants to see. I just wanted to write something for me, for once. You continued and Namjoon stopped his motions. Pulling you away from his chest, he looked you in the eye.

Then write it for you! Continue to write the book! No one can stop you from doing it during your spare time and I swear if no one else reads it, I’ll be happy to be the one and only customer. He stated defiantly and it sparked a new fire in you.

You’re right! I don’t need to always do things for everyone else! I can do them for me! You replied enthusiastically and Namjoon smiled widely.

That’s my girl! He pulled you in and you brushed your lips against his.

Thanks, babe. You said and Namjoon’s cheek tinted pink.

Uhm, no problem. He mumbled and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. Hey, I made breakfast! He opened his arms and you looked at the table. Cereal, some toast, and a couple cups of coffee sat on the table, you wanted to laugh a little, but you thought it was cute how much he tried.

I think I have some fruit and pastries as well, if you would like. You turned to Namjoon and his eyes lit up.

Pastries?! He ran into the kitchen and you let yourself laugh out loud at his childish behavior. Walking up behind him in the kitchen, you wrapped your arms around his back, hugging him, he stopped. What’s wrong? He asked as he stopped and rested his head on yours, but you shook your head.

Nothing, I’m just happy that you’re here. You mumbled into his back and he smiled. Turning around in your arms, he sealed a kiss on your lips.

I’m happy you’re mine. He responded and the two of you had a nice calm morning.

Wings (2)

prologue; part one; part two;


WARNING! THIS SERIES WILL HAVE MATURE THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, SUICIDE AND DEPRESSION! DO NOT READ IF YOU FEEL LIKE THESE THEMES MAY TRIGGER YOU!


Maybe you really did die.

What other explanation was there for a guy with wings to be standing in front of you? He called himself Kai. A handsome name that matched his handsome face well. However beautiful he was though, he was crazy, claiming he was a Guardian. What was that - like a guardian angel?

He had the wings for it.

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anonymous asked:

can u do #3 with Bruce/Clark?

i got you! love the boys. got sadder (and longer) than previously intended

3. “Hey, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Bruce didn’t acknowledge him, letting his fists kept pummeling the bag, in perfect form. Blood had already started to seep through the tape over his hands. The gym echoed with the rattle of the chain; it was the smaller gym, the one made for the founders, where they didn’t have to come in full battle armor in order to keep sharp.

“Put a past tense on that,” Clark said, and he dropped on the bench to watch - he didn’t often get the chance to watch Bruce fight. It was savage - perfectly aimed hits, to cause the most pain, but the least damage. It almost made him feel sorry for the dark underbelly of Gotham.

Eventually, Bruce threw a final punch, and leaned his forehead against the bag, huffing. He was drenched in sweat, listing slightly - he probably should’ve stopped an hour ago. Maybe a year ago, he would have. “What are you doing here.”

“Well, I was going to work out,” Clark said. It wasn’t a lie - he hadn’t even known Bruce was here, wouldn’t have guessed he was, because Bruce’s visits to the Watchtower were sporadic at best, lately. It was even questionable whether he’d come in for the bi-monthly meetings, or whether Clark would have to email him a list of the points discussed and the things agreed upon. 

Bruce grunted, and turned away. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“I’m feeling more in the mood for tacos, actually.” 

Bruce unraveled the tape, tearing it off his split knuckles. “No one is stopping you from getting tacos, Clark.”

“I’m waiting for you,” Clark said, pleasantly. “You’re coming with me.”

Bruce gave him a flat, angry look, over his bleeding fist. He slung his duffel over his shoulder and stalked off.

Clark jogged to catch up with him. “It’s just, I haven’t seen you in a while, and I was thinking - “

“You thought wrong,” Bruce growled, pushing his way past the doors. He was heading to the zeta platform.

“I mean, we don’t have to get tacos,” Clark said, following. “Ice cream? I could go for some ice cream.”

Bruce’s expression turned thunderous - brows drawn tight, jaw clenched. Christ, he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. “I don’t know what sort of intervention you’re - “

Clark raised his hands. “That’s a little defensive for a suggestion just to hang out, don’t you think? It was just a thought.”

Bruce grit his teeth, blowing air out of his nose like a bull. He stopped at the zeta panel, smashing in coordinates. “I’m not in the mood.”

Clark shrugged. “Alright, alright. That’s all you had to say.”

Bruce turned around and gave him a disbelieving look, one thick eyebrow raised.

“What? I won’t press.”

“You have never left something alone in your entire life,” Bruce huffed. The gathering light of the zeta beam cast his face in faded, pale colors.

Clark gestured to his hand, which was still dripping blood. “That’s a health concern, you know. You should let me wrap those up.”

“My blood’s fine.”

“It could still cause panic,” Clark said. 

Bruce sighed, and stared at the green discharge switch longingly. “If I bandage it, will you leave me be.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“That doesn’t mean you can show up at the Cave with ‘evidence’ later. Or tacos, or ice cream. In fact, if I see you at all for the next week, I’ll take it out of your hide.”

Clark snorted. “It was one time, and you were being stubborn.”

Bruce gave him a glare that told Clark what he thought of that, and then he jabbed the kill switch, and fell into step beside Clark to the medbay. His walk was shuffling, his shoulders slung low. Clark hadn’t noticed it, at first, because it was normal, these days. 

When they got to the medbay, Bruce dropped his duffel, and hauled out the works - antiseptic compound, clean bandages, damp cloth. He was done before Clark could think of something to say, something beyond I miss seeing you and I’m really scared that every time I see you, it’s going to be the last and I’m sorry I have no idea what I’m doing, I’ve never lost a son before. I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.

“Don’t say it,” Bruce said.

“What?”

Bruce rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Whatever you’re going to say to me, don’t. Just don’t.”

Clark hummed. “I couldn’t actually figure out a way to say it, is the thing.”

“Oh, perfect.”

Clark sighed. “I just miss you, is all.”

“What happened to not being able to figure out a way to say it,” Bruce groused, studying the palms of his hands. 

Clark turned to face him, and Bruce wouldn’t look up. “I couldn’t figure out a way to say it that doesn’t activate your feelings allergy.”

“Feelings allergy,” Bruce said, quietly, like he was testing the words. “Hm. I think I prefer emotionally resistant.”

“It does sound more manly, yeah,” Clark agreed. 

Bruce chuckled - less of a chuckle, really, more of an amused whuff of air. Because, of course, he didn’t laugh anymore. 

They sat there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. That was how it used to be - hours spent working in the Cave, in the Fortress, in the Watchtower, all affable silence. Sometimes, Clark would ask a question, and Bruce would respond with a gesture or a grunt. Eventually, Bruce slid off of the cot, picked up his duffel, and disappeared silently down the hall. Clark still hadn’t figured out what to say. He was starting to think he never really would.

Return - Part 2 - Jim Kirk

Part 1

Summary: takes place during sequences of star trek beyond; the last few years of episodic space travel have been taxing on jim as his heart remains with you and the abronath remains with him. a trade-off is imminent, however, when he spots you and someone else spots the artifact. (series following loot; no real reason to read it, though)

Warnings: language, lil angsty

A/N: i’m still taggin’ those i used to tag for loot, tell me if you want me to take y’all off the list. extended author’s note at the bottom


You slid onto the booth bench without so much as a greeting to the man that sat before you. You took the drink he was nursing and offered him a small scowl prior to tipping the glass back and draining it of its contents. You both knew a pleasant, emotional greeting was unnecessary.

You scowled deeper and sighed at the burning in your throat. You placed your hand flat on your chest and sighed. “That’s not my drink. Why would you order that?”

“Because it’s my drink,” he told you in a voice that rivaled your own in terms of irritation and a grimace that rivaled yours in terms of depth. You could have smiled at his Southern drawl, though. It still reminded you of warm peach cobbler.

Leonard then gave you a once over and seemed to be dissatisfied with what he saw. “You looked good a few days ago. What happened?”

“Oh, I’ve just been in a bit of a tizzy seeing as we spoke three days ago and you didn’t think to tell me the Enterprise would be docking here.” You cleared your throat and sat back, your head lolling against the cushion behind you. You frowned. “Didn’t even give me a chance to leave the planet.”

“Ain’t allowed to leave the planet while on parole— even I know that.” His scowl was slowly shifting into a half-smile that touched his eyes as if the largest grin. “Besides, Yorktown ain’t so bad once you stop thinkin’ about how a crack in the glass could kill us all— you’re lucky to be here.”

You hummed, smiling at the bartender that set your usual drink before you. Your polite smile turned to a rueful one as you swirled your fingertip over the rim of your glass and sighed. “Anything’s better than a jail cell.”

“Try livin’ on the Enterprise for three years.”

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In the End  - Jc Caylen #1

Pairing: Jc Caylen x Reader

Word count: 568

Warning: jealous Jc, jealous Reader, cutie Jc and fluff

Request: Hiii! so I was wondering if you could do an imagine of Jc Caylen, where y/n and Jc are dating, and y/n is teasing him and making him jealous by flirting or whatever, and he decides to do the same to y/n for revenge. And in the end you both makeup bc neither of you can take it anymore and it’s all cute and fluffy and ahhh I would love you! So if you get time, that’d be awesome xx

Mentions: Kian Lawley, Bobby Mares, Corey LaBarrie, Dominic DeAngelis and Franny Arrieta

A/N: I hoped you liked the imagine, there will be more imagines coming soon, I have exams coming up soon so I won’t be updating as much now. [Aug 6th ‘17]. Please feel free to request! If you wanted to be tagged in imagines, please message me! Please also check out my masterlist! X

Originally posted by justanothersanctuary

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