my fic (yikes)

Cute Whump Things

• Character B bleeding heavily while Character A tries to staunch the blood but Character B is more concerned about the fact that stoic Character A is sobbing and panicking

• When help is a few hours away and Character B has to stay awake, Character A rambles loudly about random stuff, trying not to break down and cry and to keep them awake

• Character B’s head hurts and Character A fusses as their thighs are used as a cushion, saying that it’s probably not comfy and Character B says that it’s perfect because they get to stare up at their face and it has a great view

• Character B is in so much pain and Character A knows it, so they let Character B hold their hand as tight as they want, even when it hurts and it feels like a finger just broke

• That moment when stubborn Character B feels awful and Character A notices and makes their day easier by giving them easy tasks and watching over them with concern to make sure they don’t pass out

• When stranded together, Character B is cold and Character B begrudgingly agrees to cuddle with them only so they won’t die, but ends up enjoying it and refuses to budge, saying that it’s for survival purposes only

• After falling into ice-cold water, Character B is shivering and Character A takes off their shirt and does skin-to-skin contact, trying to keep calm because Character B is their crush and cannot die

• Character B gets stabbed and Character A quite literally rips up their favourite shirt to make a temporary bandage, Character B protests and Character A tells them to shut up it’s just a shirt

• Character B has a bullet wound and tells Character A to take it out, but they’re afraid of blood so Character B soothes their tears and panic as they take it out, patting their arm in assurance as they hide their grimaces

• Character B is recovering from an attack meant for Character A and searches for them, only to find them in tears and crying that it should have been them how dare they scare them like that and having to comfort them

• Character A and Character B were both injured, but Character A sneaks in and cuddles up next to them because they were lonely and both being afraid to hurt each other, settling for nose kisses and cheek pecks

Masterlist - Updated 08/03/17

Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton // One Shots

1. Cheap Pants -  College AU

Alexander Hamilton // Series

1. Lunchtime (Part One / Part Two) - “Are you wearing my pants?”

Hercules Mulligan // One Shots

1. Loud Mouth - Hercules has a soft side

2. Changes - “Friends with benefits. Oh, wait. I like you” 

3. Non-Negotiable - “Accidental waving” 

Lafayette // One Shots

1. Love Sick - “Can I kiss you?”

2. Late Night - Coming home drunk

3. Fresh Snow - Snow War

Lafayette // Series

1. Jeopardy (Part One / Part Two) - Friends to maybe something more.

George Washington // One Shots

1. Unreadable - “Wanna bet?” 

Philip Hamilton // One Shots

1. Yo-Yo - Soulmate AU

Philip Hamilton // Series

1. Legacy (Part One / Part Two / Part Three) - “So maybe you’re a fool, headfirst in love / with ink beneath your fingernails. ”

John Laurens // One Shots

1. Overdue - “You’re overdue for this book and I really want it.” 


In the Heights

Usnavi de la Vega // One Shots

1. Smooth Operator - “How long have you been standing there?”

2. Breaks - “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.”

3. Throne - “Do it. I dare you.”

4. Home - Reader is new to Washington Heights


RPF (Real Person Fics)

Okieriete Onaodowan // One Shots

1. My Favorite Cousin - Reader is Anthony’s cousin

2. Peace - Reader owns a bakery/Lin sets them up.

Alex Lacamoire // One Shots

1. Second Date - Lin sets them up.

2. Grand Tour Alex admits he’s never been to San Francisco before, you give him a grand tour.

Lin-Manuel Miranda // One Shots

1. Manhattan - “The one night stand I had is actually my boss.” 

2. Sisterly Love - “I told my family I was in a relationship/fake boyfriend”

3. A Man’s Opinion - “I’m helping you pick out an outfit for your date tonight and I’m totally in love with you.”

4. Slytherin - Reader is an understudy for Eliza

5. Mixtape - Reader is a single mom

6. What’s Next? - Oak plays matchmaker

7. 5 Things - You frequently have one night stands with Lin

8. First Dance - Lin and Reader meet early on in their careers

9. One Cream, Five Sugars - Lin spills coffee on the reader

10. Green, Green Dress - Based off of Green, Green Dress from tick, tick…boom!

11. Embarrassed - Lin is a fan of the Reader

12. Settled - Lin and Reader were college roommates/he invites her to the Tony’s

13. Tell the Kids - Reader is Lin’s assistant on Mary Poppins.

14. Armani Suit Reader is a part of an auction for a date with her.

15. Rehearsals - Reader is the choreographer for Marry Poppins and Lin needs extra help.

16. Drunk HistoryDrunk! Lin confesses something to the reader.

17. Secret Santa - Lin is Reader’s Secret Santa.

18. Christmas Without You - Christmas Eve with Lin

19. First Date - Lin and Reader are set up on a blind date.

20. Cool - Reader is a famous singer that sings a Hamilton song at her concert.

21. Mother Knows BestThe Oscars’ luncheon breeds a new relationship for Lin.

22. One Time… Lin is an upbeat theater camp counselor. Reader is anything but.

23. Side A - Based off of ‘Love is a Mix Tape’ by Rob Sheffield.

24. Parallel Lines Who Meet - Loosely based off of Stephen Sondheim’s Comapny.

25. BacheloretteYou’re starting to question your place in life when you find out your best friend is engaged.

26. Need A RideAnything seems possible in the front seat of your beat up Chevy.

27. We’ll Have TonightNew York City is your own weekend mistress.

28. EverythingProm night with your best friend is the perfect night for Lin to get something off his chest.

29. Love on the Brain - You and Lin toe the line between best friends and soulmates.

30. Rinse and Repeat - A regular customer catches your interest.

31. Hour by Hour A late night attempt to buy pot leaves you with the strange roommate of your dealer.

32. Work In ProgressNo matter how much he liked to deny it, sometimes Lin had his doubts.

Lin-Manuel Miranda // Series

1. Backstage / Wedding Plans / Through the Years / Red Lights - Reader is a celebrity and goes to see Hamilton.

2. Impress Me (Part One / Part Two) - Reader conducts an interview with Lin and is also babysitting.

3. Impact (Part One / Part Two) - Reader is married but is in love with Lin.

4. Still Hurting / Rewind - Reader was recently cheated on and has to go on as Eliza.

5. Tells Your Story (Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five) - Reader is asked to be a part of the Hamilton Mixtape

6. Snapshots (Part One / Part Two) - Lin and Reader both miss their subway.

7. Only Us (Part One / Part Two) - Reader owns a bookstore Lin often frequents.

8. Bound to Happen (Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven) - The chronicles of being Lin’s assistant to maybe something more.

9. Beyond the Sunrise, a collab with @alexanderhamllton (Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2) - Mixed up orders leads to a new and unexpected person in your life.

Daveed Diggs // One Shots

1. First Sight - Rafa sets them up

Daveed Diggs // Series

1. Street Cred / Noted - “You’re a celebrity I admire but you’re flirting with me?”

Anthony Ramos // One Shots

1. Stars in the Sky - “I’m in love with you, this could ruin everything.”

Jasmine Cephas Jones // One Shots

1. New YorkLoosely based off of ‘San Junipero’ from Black Mirror.

The Tea is Decaf

[ao3]

3.7k words
Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen
Based on this text post

Castiel just barely slips out the door into the hallway and turns the knob as he closes it so the latch doesn’t make a sound. The light is always on in the hallway, and Dean always wakes up if too much of it pours into his room, so Castiel has mastered the art of slipping through the smallest space possible.

He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s in the hallway.

A small voice to his right lets out an amused laugh. He turns to see a particularly tiny woman wearing a very large plaid shirt and nothing else. Well, he supposes she could be wearing shorts under the shirt. It really is very big on her.

“You must be Castiel,” she says rather loudly, mispronouncing his name just slightly.

He walks over to her with a finger to his lips.

She puts her hand over her mouth in embarrassment before signing, I’m deaf.

Castiel mouths an “oh” before dropping his head and laughing. He then pops his head back up fast and mouths, “Are you Eileen?”

She nods eagerly and signs, You’ve heard about me?

Sam has mentioned you a few times, he signs back. He says you’re a very good hunter.

Her face lights up. You’re damn right I am. Still, that’s very sweet of him.

So, are you two…? Castiel looks back toward Sam’s room and then down at Eileen’s shirt.

Eileen’s eyes widen in embarrassment. He’s asleep. I was just going to the bathroom.

I was heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Would you like some?

Is there caffeine in it?

Not at 4 in the morning.

Eileen smiles and gives him a thumbs up before moving past him toward the bathroom. Castiel watches her go for a second before it hits him.

He looks down at his plain black t-shirt and too-small boxer briefs and wonders if Eileen could tell that these clothes aren’t his. And that he came out of Dean’s room instead of one of the countless other extra bedrooms in the bunker.

By the time Eileen pads into the kitchen, Castiel has two mugs ready with decaf teabags in them and he’s standing at the stove staring at the pot so he can pull it off the burner before it whistles.

It’s only a minute longer before Cas pours the water into the mugs and takes a seat across from Eileen at the kitchen table.

You’re an angel, aren’t you? Eileen asks as her tea steeps.

Castiel nods as he takes a drink.

Does that mean you don’t sleep?

Sometimes I do. I didn’t feel like it tonight.

Is Dean good in bed?

Keep reading

In Cahoots

Summary:  When movie night features horror, your least favourite genre, it leads to a discovery about Bucky’s feelings.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,576

Warnings: mentions of horror movies (no spoilers or explicit details!) , an annoying armrest, being close to Bucky Barnes

A/N: This is my submission for the wonderful @just-some-drabbles Rom-Com Challenge! Thanks for letting me participate, congratulations on 4k 💛 My prompt was “I think you already know.” Honestly I have no idea how it got to be so long, but the more Bucky the better, right? I hope you enjoy :)

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

“Y/N." 

"Mm,” you hummed.

"Is that a yes?”

Your fingers froze over the battery you were repairing down in Tony’s lab. The wires inside of it were communicating by sparks happily, unlike the nerves in your brain. 

A yes to what? Better find out. Better pretend like you know.  Better not let Wanda know you had no clue what day it was, never mind the meaning behind her question.

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anonymous asked:

what are your thoughts on a parallel verse where Neil didn't survive baltimore? idk maybe the verses come in contact or maybe just a dead Neil au. just your thoughts or anything? you're very insightful so it's nice to hear from you

“I’m in hell,” Wymack says. “I’ve died without knowing and gone straight to hell.”

“It could be worse,” Nicky muses. “I mean, you could have three Neils instead?”

Neil should be offended by that. And he would be, if there wasn’t three seperate Andrews staring at him with that familiar slow-blinking gaze.

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Hallelujah, You’re Home

Read on AO3


          It’s been two years. Two years since they’ve felt rain on their faces. Two years since they’ve seen their families, since they’ve spoken to their families. Two years since they really started to learn what war was. Two years since they stopped being teenagers and became soldiers. Two years since they left Earth. Three, for Shiro.

           But now they’re going back. They’re going home.

           Well, for a little while, at least. The war isn’t over. The Galra Empire has been taking over the universe for over 10,000 years, it can’t be taken down in simply two. But in two years, the Voltron Alliance has grown substantially, and they’ve taken down enough Galra higher ups that Voltron is almost universally known and called upon, and with fame, comes questions. It’s not a secret anymore that the five Paladins of Voltron are from Earth. Everybody knows, so there’s no point in avoiding Earth anymore. At least, that’s what the Paladins keep telling Allura. Earth is vulnerable now; it’s a target, and with it’s technology as unadvanced as it was when they left, they’re at a serious disadvantage if the Galra ever attacked. They probably still have no idea that aliens even exist. Earth needs Voltron. Earth needs the Voltron Alliance, and the Voltron Alliance needs Earth.

           Also, Lance just really needs his mom.

           So, here they are, entering the Milky Way Galaxy, all waiting anxiously at their stations on the control deck.

           “Ha! Boom, bitches! Wi-fi is up!” Pidge punches her fists in the air in triumph and ignores the half-hearted look her father shoots her when she says “bitches”.

           The others have long since gotten used to Pidge and her amazing technical ability, but they still all look at her in shock, except for Matt. He had obviously helped her.

           “Pidge, how the hell did you get wi-fi in space?” Keith asks incredulously.

           Lance nods in agreement. “Seriously. Tell me how I can’t get a signal in the desert outside of Galaxy Garrison, but you can get one past Saturn.”

           At this, Pidge snorts and raises an eyebrow at them. “You didn’t have me. Or amazingly amplifying Altean technology.”

           “Something tells me it was mostly the Altean tech.”

           “Shh and bow before my genius.”

           Pidge, Hunk, and Lance all immediately grab their phones and start scrolling on them, ignoring Coran’s announcement that they’ll be to Earth in two dobashes.

           “Oh my god. They told everybody we’re all dead. We have a memorial!” Pidge exclaims.

Keep reading

Knockout


Sliding across the kitchen tiles in her fluffy socks (and narrowly avoiding injury), she wiped down the black countertop with a damp cloth leaving a fresh citrus scent in its wake. Humming along to whatever 80s track that was playing over the sound system in Shawn’s dining area, she cleared the remnants of the cooking equipment from their dinner. Although he had pretty much just moved in, she had already made herself at home and despite his protests she always insisted on cleaning up. Besides, she practically lived there anyway.

And she didn’t mind cleaning up. Being an only child, she had never lived with a teenage guy before and was initially worried that when she visited, the once pristine apartment would look like a bomb had hit it - only going on what she had heard about teenage boys and cleanliness, of course. But she had to admit she was pleasantly surprised at how tidy Shawn kept his place. She supposed it had more to do with pride in having his own place rather than the interest to clean but either way, the condo was kept immaculate. There was rarely a moment she arrived and he wasn’t sweeping the hardwood floors. Something about it getting dusty, he insisted, though she just laughed and told him to put the damn brush away.

The final pot clanged as she placed it back in its respective drawer and she switched the stereo off with a satisfied sigh. Spotless. She furrowed her brow at the sound of the pounding bass continuing down the hall. Shawn had told her he was going to blow off some steam or something along the lines of that. She thought she really ought to start listening to him more rather than ushering him out of the kitchen so she could shamelessly sing without the presence of an actual vocalist. Truth be told, she was as tone deaf as they came.

Padding silently down along the hall that she knew Shawn would probably be feverishly sweeping later, she made out the song to be a Drake track accompanied by the rhythmic sound of punches hitting leather. As she grew closer, the door to his makeshift studio room was slightly ajar and she held onto the doorframe for dear life. Standing there in all his shirtless glory, she silently thanked whatever god that he had his back to her. Stance fixed and posture poised, he threw punch after punch at bag whose chains shook with each hit. He was slick with sweat and all her attention was fixated on the way his back muscles flexed and contracted with each jab. A limp curl hung down on his forehead while the rest at the back of his head were plastered to his neck with perspiration. His grey sweatpants hung low on his waist and she found it hard to concentrate when he let out the occasional low grunt as he threw a punch.

She knew he had taken up boxing as a way to keep fit while he was on tour and couldn’t make it to the gym. The thought of that alone was enough to let her mind run rampant. But experiencing the sight in person? Well, that was a whole other level of explicit thoughts and right now, her mind needed a big ‘Parental Advisory: Explicit Content’ sticker stuck to it.

Biting her lip with too much vigour, she inwardly prayed that her knees wouldn’t give out. The sound of someone collapsing in the doorway was sure to put a pause to his boxing session and she’d be damned if she was the one to stop him. It almost felt wrong watching him. Although he is her boyfriend, she still felt like she was trespassing - watching something that she shouldn’t. Her phone suddenly felt very heavy in her back pocket as the urge to record the unlawful sight in front of her welled up inside her. She wanted to capture the moment, project it on cinema screens, tattoo it on her body. Woah girl, reel it in she thought to herself, chastising her imagination for taking the scenario and running away with it.

“I told you not to box without gloves, didn’t I?” she said as the song ended. Her voice was a surprise to her own ears - it sounded controlled and not at all flustered as she had expected.

Whatever ounce of rationality she had mustered up before was completely and utterly demolished when her Greek God of a boyfriend turned around to face her - all glistening abs and taut pectoral muscles. The way his lips parted slightly as he panted and the innocent look in his eyes was enough to make her crumble into a heap of ashes. The early signs of stubble were visible above his lip and on his chin and although she wasn’t usually a fan of facial hair, she stifled a groan in her throat. What the hell was this kid doing to her? A smug smile spread across his face as he moved across the room to turn off the speaker and she dared her legs to hold her weight as she walked - or rather wobbled - towards him.

“Guess I should’ve listened, huh?” he replied with a sheepish grin as he looked from his knuckles back up to her face. She noticed the cuts dotted along his knuckles and the purplish hue of the bruised already forming underneath. He could only chuckle as she sighed and quirked a brow at him, his own way of saying ‘I’m fine, really’.

“The blood trickling down your hand says otherwise” she countered, taking one of his large hands in her own. Brushing a finger across his lower knuckles that escaped relatively unscathed, she shot him another look. But it was hard to even pretend to be mad at him when he was gazing down at her, his warm brown eyes alight with mischief.

“Sorry, mom” he said apologetically with a boyish grin, earning himself a swat to the chest.

“C'mon, Rocky Balboa” she said sarcastically and took him by the hand carefully. Leading him to the en suite in the master bedroom, she bent down to reach the first aid kit she had taken the liberty of buying. Admittedly, she was hopelessly accident prone and Shawn was clumsy so it was considered an essential as far as she was concerned. One of them was bound to do something potentially self-destructive. Which was laughably ironic considering the fact that she was fit to combust any second.

“Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not that bad” Shawn argued examining his hands. Looking up from her position on the floor and ready to shoot another unamused look at him, he towered above her and she lost all ability to speak. His damp curls hung around his face as he looked down and her and she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to where the defined V muscle at his waist disappeared beneath the waistline of his sweatpants. His cheeks were as hot and rosy as hers felt. Whatever smart-ass comment that was on the tip of her tongue died. Combustion in 3…2… Clearing her throat and standing up quickly, she placed the first aid kit on the counter before putting a hand on her hip.

“Just- shut up and let me be a good girlfriend, alright?” she said playfully. As she opened the kit, he held up his hands in surrender. Getting to work disinfecting the cuts on his hands, she tried desperately to ignore his proximity to her and the heat radiating off his body. Needless to say she failed miserably. After she had finished wrapping the bandages around his knuckles (like he should have done before he started boxing), he pressed a kiss against her hair and mumbled his thanks against her skin. The height difference meant she was staring at the hollow in his throat that was gleaming with sweat and she couldn’t hold herself back from planting a kiss there. A surprised low groan escaped him and as she wound her arms around his waist, she could feel him pull back slightly.

“I’m all gross and sweaty, baby girl” he said in a low voice, the tenor in it reverberating through her bones.

“Good, that’s the way I like you” she said with a smirk, gazing up at him through her lashes before placing another slow, languid kiss at the base of his neck. He gripped her hips as he sucked in a breath when her teeth grazed his skin.

“Well in that case…” he said and in one swift motion, he had her hoisted up onto the counter and stood between her legs, earning a surprised gasp from her lips. “You won’t mind getting a bit sweaty yourself.”

Her mind raced and she crashed her lips against his. God, he had been gone for so long. Far too long. She had forgotten how much she had missed this. Missed the way his tongue brushing hers caused that feeling to erupt in her stomach every single time. The way he pulled her towards him by her hips, getting her as close to him as humanely possible. The way he groaned against her lips when she wound a hand into his wild hair. Usually he was gentle, slow. Nothing about him was gentle in that moment letting her know that he had missed her just as much as she had missed him. Kissing her way along his jawline to his ear, she kissed his earlobe before speaking with a challenging tone to her voice

“Go on then, baby. Make me sweat.”

Petals (ft. Hoseok)

Drabble Game Prompt 18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.”

hanahaki disease!au, extreme angst
4k words (oneshot)
→ what happens when the surgery doesn’t work?

A/N: WOAH ok…I realized after writing this that this deserves a story talk so please read that! I hope my first Hoseok story turned out okay :) 


The lights are piercing, shining too bright for a godless day like this. The nurses wheel you into a different ward that shares the same kind of lights, and you can see in the swinging doorway the faces of your close friends and family as they smile tearfully at your weak body atop of the gurney. 

But the sight of him makes your heart clench, waving at you and hugging your mom close as he meets your gaze from a few feet away, and the overwhelming need to throw up comes again. The bitter taste of the petals are already at the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, tears pricking your eyes as you calm down your breathing and focus on the sharp smell of alcohol that fills the surgery ward.

The nurse smiles at you from under her mask, her eyes crinkling as she stops the gurney and begins preparing her tools. “It’ll be over before you even know it. You’re very brave to be doing this procedure.” You nod, as she prepares the anesthesia and puts a mask over your mouth. 

“Alright, honey, can you count backwards from twenty please?” Other doctors and surgeons fill the room, and you can see on the second floor, that a few other doctors stand over the glass paneled room, watching.

You nod, and she smiles. 

“20, 19, 18, 17, 16,” you begin, faltering as you count, “15…14…13…”

And everything goes black, the taste of flowers still bitter at the back of your throat.

Keep reading

sooo. this came out while listening to Wild World - thank you darling @ivegotfirefouraheart for recommending it to me !! 💖💛


jeeno2  asked:

Cuddling in a bed PLEASE! For either Cassian x Jyn or Steve x Diana :D

modern au? steve-is-reincarnated au? who knows??

Diana lifts her head to the whining bleat of the alarm, reaching out blindly to scoop her phone off the bedside table and shut it off. Beside her, Steve makes a vaguely inhuman sound—somewhere between a groan and a wail.

“No,” she hears him mutter. “Nope, no. No.”

When she turns to face him, she finds his eyes scrunched closed, the hazy morning light from the window casting a glowing rectangle across the bare skin of his shoulder. His stubble is long and flecked with gray, his cheek a mess of squiggly lines from his pillow.

He’s beautiful.

“You can keep sleeping,” she reminds him, resisting the urge to lay a hand across his cheek. (She doesn’t want to wake him.) “I’ll be back soon.”

“No,” Steve mumbles. Without warning he shifts, settling his arm across her side.

She raises an eyebrow. “You know I’m going for a run.”

“I do know that,” Steve agrees, eyes still closed. “I know that, because you go for a run every day. Which is awesome, don’t get me wrong, but it’s Saturday, Diana. Saturday.”

She smiles, heart flooding with warmth. “Your point?”

“Most people use Saturday mornings for sleep.” His palm splays across the small of her back as he wriggles closer, pulling her gently towards his chest.

“Most people?” she echoes, letting her fingers trace a line down the side of his ribs.

Steve smiles. “I know, you’re not most people. But I am, so I’m going to spend at least a little bit of this morning in bed. I’d really like it if you joined me.”

She wonders if she should resist, get up and go about her plans anyways. But she has no desire to, none at all. She would gladly spend a lifetime here in their bed, skin on skin, the whole world narrowed to the soft curve of his smile, the gentle beat of his heart. Everything else can wait.

She shifts closer, a quiet assent, and he grins without opening his eyes. He pulls her tighter, looping his leg over hers as though to lock her in place.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, kissing her brow. “I’ll make you breakfast later.”

“You don’t need to reward me for agreeing to spend time doing something I love. This is not exactly a burden.”

He chuckles, low. “Okay, okay. But I’m making you breakfast anyway.”

She nods, eyes fluttering closed. “Perfect.”

cuddle prompts!

Here’s a fic based on the first part of this post w/ College AU klance, Lance sick and stranded at the airport, and Keith knowing what caretaking is.

For Lance, bad news comes in the form of a woman’s voice, calmly notifying the lobby full of passengers that their flight to Michigan has been delayed for five hours due to severe weather conditions. His stomach drops. Uncomfortable dread washes over him. He can’t take another five hours in the airport, he just can’t.

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softly blurred

on Ao3

from the @miraculousexchange​ spring exchange for Amaranthis on tumblr (if you have a tumblr let me know!!) 

~technically~ the prompt was any side of the love square and the rain, but i went with all sides because i really love the 5+1 things trope!

also someone please get me to stop procrastinating oh my god i regret a lot

enjoy!


I love the rain.
I love how it softens the outlines of things.
The world becomes softly blurred,
and I feel like I melt right into it.

-Hanamoto Hagumi


i. summer - l’été

 The thick humidity breaks as thunder claps. Gray clouds hide the sun and Marinette stares at the drizzle with a sinking heart, thinking of the walk home in the downpour. Her maman has always told her to always have an umbrella on her. Better to be over prepared than caught in a storm.

Marinette has never been all that good at listening to other people’s advice.

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Bloody Hell

Summary: Protective!Newt stepping in when a guy at a bar gets a little too close for comfort.

Word Count: 1,904

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Tag List: @dont-give-a-bother @ly–canthrope @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @red-roses-and-stories @caseoffics @whatinbenaddiction @studyforthreehands @benniesgalaxy @thosefantasticbeast2

WARNING: Creepy bar guy (minimal), Language (minimal)

Special thanks to @drdanwrites and @fantasticnewtimagines for talking through this idea and encouraging me to write it!


Newt is boiling. Oh, he’s absolutely pissed as he downs another drink, finishing it off by running his bare forearm over the froth caught on his upper lip. You’re across the room, clearly busy with Queenie and Tina as you play pool, but this one man’s been circling the table, his eyebrows apparently eternally raised as he watches the three of you play through the round.

He can hardly hear whatever Jacob’s saying in his ear over the noise. Deafening swing music pounds through the one-room bar. The new Friday drink special dragged a giant, sweaty crowd of people in to celebrate, and Newt’s constantly bumping shoulders with strangers that reek of whiskey and tequila.

He long ago rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down, a style of shirt he now regrets choosing, and his hair’s a mess – ruffled time after time by a drunk Queenie so that strands of it are constantly falling into his eyes. Still, he cares about none of that, attention focused only on you, watching your reactions as the man circles his way toward you again when Queenie excuses herself to head to the bar.

This time, the man goes too far, not just shouting something over the music, but instead stepping closer, hand reaching out for your waist, fingers trailing over the sliver of bare skin you were already nervous about showing off tonight.

But it’s not the way the man smiles at you that sends Newt leaping to his feet, nor is it how his hand lingers on your waist or the way he leans in to whisper something in your ear. No, it’s the look you send Newt – eyes wide, mouth half open in a small O, pleading for help.

And it’s that helplessness that the man is taking advantage of that sends Newt springing to his feet, chest burning in anger and frustration and pure disgust.

“’Scuse me.” He mutters without even looking at Jacob, shoving his chair back. Who in the hell does this man think he is, talking to you – touching you ¬– when you don’t want him to?

A jazzy tune breaks into motion as Newt weaves through the crowd. His hands are rolled into fists, jaw clenched so tight his teeth hurt, and his stride parts the dancers swaying in his way. The crowd shifts, and, through the gap, you’re still staring at him, frozen in shock and terror.

And then Newt’s at the pool table, stepping around the side and reaching for the man’s shoulder without considering how much smaller he is, how easily this man could probably knock him out. No, the only thought running through his whiskey-clouded mind is getting this guy far away from you.

Which is why he reaches across the table and shoves the man, sending him reeling backwards, arms flailing to catch his balance.

“Man, what the hell?” The stranger spits, his own words slurred and pissed as he regains his footing. You reach for Newt, but he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, stepping between you and the man.

“She isn’t interested.” His voice is low, dangerous, wavering on a dark note he didn’t know he had in himself.

“How the fuck would you know?” The man steps toward Newt, shoulders back, eyes boring a hole in the shorter redhead.

But Newt doesn’t back down, not even when you tug on his hand. This man terrified you, insulted you, touched you without your consent. He deserves whatever’s coming to him. “Just leave.

“And if I don’t? You’ll… what? Make me?”

“Yes.” Newt’s so drunk, he knows, and he knows he’ll regret not just taking your hand and leading you to another bar, but he also knows that there is not a single situation he’ll leave you undefended in, including one where he is clearly overpowered.

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Colored Out the Line

Story by: bellustyles

Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Summary: Is that a kazoo?” Louis questioned as he averted his gaze down to the small purple object in his hands, his left brow raising. Converse’s smile grew wider. Dimples.

“Yeah, It is,” He spoke and Louis was sure his face was aching from all that smiling, “Cool innit?” he hummed while messing with the object between his fingers. 

“You were playing Shania Twain on a Kazoo,” Louis breathed. He just didn’t understand. Since when do people still have kazoos? “Still The One, on a damn kazoo!” Louis screeched, the hand that held the gallon waved in the air. He was sure he looked like a madman, though the boy didn’t seem to mind. He was all smiles watching Louis so utterly confused. 

“It sounded good then? If someone was able to recognize it then I’m sure I did a good job, no?” Dimples questioned, continuing to twirl the purple object between his fingers. Louis had nicknames, tons of nicknames for this man. Louis snorted and looked down at his feet. 

“Mate, you sounded like a duck with that thing,” he argued, nose scrunching up while trying to avoid the smile that was itching to poke through.

“A duck who knows Shania Twain?” Dimples questioned, head tilting to the side as Louis caught his eyes. He brought the purple kazoo up to his lips and blew into it. Louis stomach did not flip, it sure as hell did not.

or the AU where Louis gets stood up for a date and doesn’t care much of the situation, finds comfort in food, and stumbles upon a guy wearing pink converse and playing Shania Twain’s “Still the One” on a kazoo outside a laundromat.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

Thanks to Baylee @loubacktoyou for being such a sweet beta through this!

anonymous asked:

"Okay... Okay, hospital. Hospital, now." Hunk and sick or injured Lance?

BLESS YOU

this gets…..a tiny bit gruesome. it isn’t graphic, but there is a very brief description of a compound fracture and vomit. 


When his phone starts ringing and Lance’s picture fills the screen, Hunk thinks it’s probably because he’s picking up takeout and wants to know if Hunk would prefer egg rolls or fried rice, or something along those lines. It’s getting late and Lance hasn’t gotten in touch with him since this morning before classes, and even though he figured his roommate had probably been at Keith’s, he’d been getting a little worried that Lance hadn’t so much as texted to let him know when he’d be home. 

Hunk perks up a little and sets aside his textbook and pencil. “Hang on a second, Pidge. Lance is calling.”

In the Skype window on his laptop monitor, Pidge throws their head back and groans. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna ditch me for Lance. We still have four problems left.”

“I think he just wants my takeout order. It won’t take long, just wait for a minute.”

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Playwright Meets Playboy

Title: Playwright Meets Playboy

Pairing: USUK

Rating: T

Warnings: Shakespeare? Tattoos? Shakespeare tattoos. Mutual pining.

Summary: Alfred learns the depth of love his roommate, Arthur, holds for the long deceased playwright William Shakespeare.

Notes: i’ve had this in my drafts for over a month trying to figure out a title and a good time to release another Funny Fic™ but uhh nothing matters, this isn’t betaed, death is inevitable, thanks

Read on AO3 , FF.net or after the “read more”!


“What does God hold against sacred romance?

He infects my thoughts and I lose mine breath

My soul, struck by Cupid in quintessence;

The gent has brought me to Heaven outside of death.

God is cruel to his children, nev'theless!

I love him, yet he tumbles my friends.

Just, the gent wilt not descry mine distress,

I wilt not ail him with guilt from broke amends.

I crave to relish in his affection

He is the passion of my heart to start

Yes, he’s the embod'ment of perfection

Glaucous windows, brave ‘larum, tender heart…

Aye torture lest my gent feel scorn’d!

Gracious for chance, while own heart unreturn’d.”


“…The fuck, dude?”

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i suppose not

(a jily group chat fic)

disclaimer: this is probably the worst group chat fic in the history of group chat fics and i’m sorry. i haven’t written for a while so excuse my… writing.

happy birthday to @emmelinevvance​ aka one of the only people that i would bother to expose my bad writing skills for, also you can read her group chat fic, death by glitter, here!

s/o to @swearwolflupin​ who also wrote something, which is probably far better than mine! you can find her fic, about time, here!

James Potter to Lily Evans: ru coming with us 

Lily Evans: hell no

Lily Evans: who do u think i am

James Potter: the love of my life

Lily Evans: i was thinking more along the lines of respectable head girl

James Potter:

James Potter: you didn’t deny it

Lily Evans: fuck off potter

Lily Evans: and i’m not going anywhere with you

James Potter: oh

James Potter: bUT YOU DIDN’T DENY IT


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you’re in my veins

a little rewrite of the 2x10 jimon bite scene in jace’s pov because i couldn’t help myself. enjoy!

on ao3

Clary had told him; of course she had. If he was going to pretend to be her, he had to know what she knew. He had to know what Valentine had shown her, what he had done to Simon. He had gone in knowing exactly what to expect, knowing that Simon would need blood. Logically, he knew. But now, with ginger hair that was not his framing a face that belonged to someone else, he realized that actually seeing it was something else entirely.

Blood stained it’s way down Simon’s throat, soaking into his shirt and jacket. Jace felt his own blood freeze at the sight. Simon lay like a broken doll on the couch, his breath coming in shallow, shuddering gasps - and Jace couldn’t help but wonder if the breathing was only out of habit; vampires didn’t need to breathe. But they did need blood, and Simon had lost too much, was still losing it, blood continuing to drain out of the open wound on his neck.

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