my mind is in the gutter and apparently so was his

anonymous asked:

For the break-up AU, how about "i’ve seen you hanging around my apartment and i thought it was because you missed me, turns out you’ve been using my wifi you asshole"

Natsu has been hanging around her apartment lately. Now, usually, that wouldn’t bother Lucy. She used to love when he would hang out, used to love just having him near her. Used to. Not anymore. It’s been three weeks since their fight and he just keeps showing up, hanging around in the shadows, close, but not close enough.

And she’s mad. Not because she doesn’t want him around, but because he hasn’t said a word to her in three weeks. She knows she shouldn’t expect much, they broke up, after all, but there’s something painful that tugs at her gut every time she sees him just outside or right down the hall.

She’s mad because it keeps her clinging to that thread of hope that they might work things out.

And it’s stupid, she knows it’s stupid, but she can’t help it. Because why else would he be coming around? He lives clear across town. Works across town. His friends are across town. There’s no reason for him to be moping outside her door unless it means something, right? It has to mean something.

Because it certainly means something to her.

So when she sees him room her window, his body tucked against the wall and his head bent low, hidden, Lucy does something both very brave and very stupid.

She corners him outside.

There’s a flurry of movement as she shoves on a sweater despite the heat, not bothering to slip on a pair of pants over her bare legs before she storms out of her apartment. What would the point be? It’s Natsu. Her legs aren’t something he’s never seen before.

Hopefully he’d be seeing them up close again, very, very soon.

It’s not until she has him backed into a corner that she realizes the stupidity might outweigh the bravery. She also realizes she doesn’t really care, as he stares back at her, wide-eyed as his throat bobs with a harsh swallow.

And maybe she’s a little bit satisfied by the way his sharp eyes linger on her bare skin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps, arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her weight shifts from one leg to the next, and Natsu’s gaze jolts from her face to her hips, watching in apt fascination as they sway slowly. His lips part, and Lucy’s almost certain that his mind has gone straight to the gutter. She rolls her eyes. “Natsu!”

Green eyes snap up to meet hers, his face turning a magnificent shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair. Lucy watches as his blush spreads down his neck, only to disappear under his shirt as it dips to his chest. She knows exactly how far down that blush goes.

“Shit,” he swears under his breathe, hastily shoving his phone into his back pocket before throwing his hands up between them, clearly waiting for an explosion from her. “I’m, uhh,” he trails off, stumbling over his words, tongue-tied. She watches as he flounders for the right words, gaze snapping around the area, unsure where to look.

Lucy rolls her eyes, bare foot tapping in frustration. Her need for answers is currently outweighing her urge to make him squirm a bit. She can save that for later. “Just spit it out, Natsu,” she tells him, less harsh than before. Lucy sighs, shoulders sagging just the slightest.

Natsu notices, but doesn’t say anything, though his eyes do narrow just the slightest in concern.

He’s quiet for a long moment, and hope builds in Lucy’s chest. She holds her breath, dark eyes wide as she stares at him. Natsu wets his lips, swallowing thickly as he matches her look. His embarrassed blush grows darker, his fingers flex nervously.

“I’ve been using your WiFi,” he murmurs, ducking his head.

Lucy’s heart shatters in her chest, splinters ripping through her lungs until she simply can’t breathe. Hurt strikes her, and Lucy flinches back at the unexpected answer, her throat growing tight as the words register.

Her voice cracks horribly when she whispers, “what?” Her words wobble, and Natsu’s eyes snap back up to meet hers, hearing the tremor in her voice. Concern flashes in his gaze, and he takes a step forward before stilling once more. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, wanting to reach out for her, but holding back.

Natsu clears his throat. “I’ve been using your WiFi to watch Netflix,” he says, softer this time, less embarrassed and more confused as he watches her expression crumple and twist into something so heartbreaking that it rips the breath straight from his lungs. A fist squeezes at his heart when he sees her eyes grow wet, glinting with unshed tears.

“You’ve…” Lucy trails off, chocking on her words. God, she though— “I’m such an idiot,” Lucy murmurs, eyes squeezing shut tightly as she feels a stinging behind her lids, tears threatening to spill over. Crying is the last thing she needs right now, but she just feels so stupid for thinking he still gave a damn.

Of course it was just the WiFi. Why else would he be here?

The bravery and he stupidity leave her in a rush, her hands beginning to shake. She feels achy now that her courage is gone, weak and wobbly on her feet. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up, she knows. She should have known better, but God it still fucking hurts.

She didn’t think anything could have hurt more than when he stormed out of her apartment three weeks ago, but apparently she was wrong.

Natsu takes another step towards her, reaching out. “What?” he breathes back, staring at her with worry that’s palpable.

Lucy just shakes her head, throwing her hands up between them and letting out a short, bitter bark of a laugh. “Get the hell out of here, Natsu,” she tells him, voice more timid than she means it to be.

“Lucy?” he murmurs, taking a step, “what?”

“God, you’re such an asshole,” she snaps back. It’s unfair, she knows, to be mad at him for this. It’s her own fault. She can’t blame him for getting her hopes up, not when he hasn’t done anything.

Right now, she just needs someone to blame.

Not wanting to pick a fight, Lucy whirls around on her heel, wanting to run back into her house, but her legs feeling like lead beneath her, too heavy for her to move.

“Whoa, wait!” Natsu reacts quicker than anticipated. He scrambles forward, only a step behind her, and catches her by the wrist before she can get too far. “Lucy, wait!” She’s yanked around none too gently, but the pull on her arm is immediately forgotten when his hands come up to cradle her jaw, his head ducked down to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks her, warm breath fanning across her face and mingling with hers.

She shivers against him, prompting him to pull her closer, but Lucy shakes her head.

Another laugh spills from her, but it sound more like a sob. Natsu flinches, leaning in so close that his nose nudges her cheek. “What’s wrong?” she asks him, forcing a watery smile onto her face. “I thought you were coming around because—” She chokes off, shaking her head rapidly.

Natsu goes rigid against her, torso pressed tight to hers so she can feel every muscle in his body tense. “Because I’m still in love with you,” he finishes for her, grip tightening on her jaw line, fingers pressing into her skin.

She worries her lip, unable to meet his eyes. “Like I said,” she murmurs, “stupid, right?”

His fingers tremble against her cheeks, as he tilts her head up to meet her eyes. “No,” he breathes against her, leaning in so that his nose bumps against hers. He swallows and she can hear it, can feel his nervous breath against her lips. “That’s not stupid at all.”

Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets/The Most Sacred Oath

I’m guessing you can’t hear me squeal over your own squeals, but I’ll just keep at it a little longer, okay? Okay. 

Man, this episode read like very good fanfiction, and while I’m disappointed Dean never found out Cas used to be a woman (although, they did have a conversation about that, so Steve gets points anyway), everything else was plain amazing. I’m actually tempted to do a recap that’s just shouting words into the void, because, seriously, that would be enough, but - okay, let me watch that thing again and then I’ll write a proper meta.


Okay.

(Deep breath.)

So, let’s get one thing out of the way: we already know why this story works so damn well, but it’s worth saying it one more time, because this is what the whole episode was about.

A human and an angel: not meant to be.

Ishim said humans are dangerous to angels, and I agree with him: if angels want to understand humans, to truly become friends with them, to live among them - well - look at what’s that done to Cas. Caring about humans is, apparently, different than caring about another angel; it forces you to give up something deep inside yourself. You become - weaker, unhappy. Doubt-ridden. Trapped between two worlds, and fit for neither. And as for humans - if they truly wish to get closer to angels - to speak their language, to know enough about their magic and weapons to be able help them when they’re in trouble or hurt - that literally costs them their souls.

It’s a tragedy. It’s doomed.

But, of course, it’s not completely hopeless. What would be the point of writing a love story if you know from the start nothing can never happen at all? No - love can conquer all, and this episode dangled it in front of us - the angel who chose humanity, who tried to defend the person he loved from his own brothers, and the human who was fascinated with angels and knew enough about them to make it work.

(They had a daughter, sort of, and let’s cry about that for the rest of eternity, because can you see it? Dean loves kids, and -)

Anyway. We’ve known for a while that angels - I mean, the price Cas paid for his loyalty to the Winchesters (his love for Dean) - that’s harrowing. But this idea that humans need to sacrifice their soul to become closer to angels - thanks for that, Steve. I’m fine.

And surely, at this point, there is no other way this could end? Because what Sam and Cas share - yeah, that’s what friendship looks like, but Dean and Cas - right. And so Cas went and said it (“You mean too much to me.”) and Dean just holed up in his room for the rest of the week? He never said a word to Cas? And, Jesus, Cas thinks Dean’s angry? At him? I’m glad this, at least, was spelled out clearly, because apparently some people still don’t get it and read Dean’s emotions at face value and no, Dean was not angry - he was worried out of his damn mind, and he’s got reason to be, because Cas still doesn’t fucking get it: “I don’t regret what I did, even if it costs me my life”.

The idiot - the useless, fucking idiot.

(“Smelly. Dirty. Twice the worry about getting ganked.”)

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keygen-s  asked:

Hey 😊 I really love your blog! What made you realize Azazel actually meant to hug Nina? That post kinda saved my day ahahah

Azazel actually said 「俺に抱かれて竜になれ!」

a literal translation would be get hugged by me and become a dragon!

抱く (daku) literally means to hug/to embrace, although depends on the context, it could also mean to make love.

In that scene after they woke up, I really think Azazel meant literal hug and not make love, esp looking at how straight/serious his face is. Remember just the night before, when Nina asked him to hug him (she said  ぎゅってして! so there’s no mistaking she meant a hug), his face went WTF GET OFF ME WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU and when he did hug her, his wings went off, either from nervousness or embarrassment, idk, it just showed just how he was unused to it. I don’t think the guy who had such…reaction… from being asked to hug would suddenly propose to make love. A hug could be platonic, but to make love he would need to touch her *more* and he seemed to have aversion to being touched, but it could also be bcs he just didn’t know nina but anyway that’s a discussion for another day.

Nina’s mind meanwhile went straight to the gutter. She seemed to make a distinction between a hug ( ぎゅってして ) and being embraced in *that* way ( 抱かれ), so she ran away bcs she totally thought Azazel meant the latter. Azazel on the other hand didn’t understand why Nina ran after proposing to hug her bcs, well, they did already hug the night before - by Nina’s own volition, no less. I doubt he would be so calm if he indeed proposed to make love to her lmao seeing how she wrecked him just by asking a hug.

It’s surprising how despite being a thousand years old (?) demon, Azazel wasn’t even aware of the double meanings of his own words, and to have that kind of pure reaction to a hug. You would think someone as high ranking as him got proposed all the time but apparently not??? Or maybe he was just an airhead when it came to that kind of things and so he simply wasn’t aware of it and unknowingly turned down those proposals. Needs further interactions with more people to confirm. One thing’s sure though: Azazel’s not used to it lmao

The Misadventures of a Team Called Voltron

It’s been a while but I’ve missed my cinabun in the actor!AU. School is school and work is work but I wanted to write again. This is part of @ackerchou actor!AU (check it out if you haven’t already and the other AUs). I swear it was funnier in my head as I was writing this, I promise guys.

x.V.x

“Er, hi guys? Wait, is this thing even on? How do I know if it’s streaming? Lance!” The camera shifted and a face left the focus of the screen before being shifted several times. Viewers watching this livestream were disappointed at the lack of face and were forced to watch a few seconds of a bland wall.


“Keith, is it on? What the heck are you doing?” A new voice filled the speakers of the camera and viewers stood on the edges of their seats in excitement.


“I don’t know. Is it streaming?” The first voice said and the camera shifted again. Now viewers had the chance to stare at a very ugly carpet on screen.


“How should I know?”


“Haven’t you done this before?!”


“Yeah…”


“Lance!” The first voice cried, voice full of nervousness. The camera shifted several times more and viewers could only see the blurred focus of nothing for a while. Eventually, (with much patience) two familiar faces filled the screen. One was beaming, wearing a smile that was familiar with everyone while the other was nervously waving into the camera.

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Dropping By (1/?)

Helping hunters with research and patching them up brings them to your house at all hours of the day & night. But what happens when your close friends , the Winchesters, are the ones showing up? What happens when a certain Winchester crawls into bed with you ?
 Warnings : swearing, flirting

Pairings : Sam x reader , Dean x reader


Originally posted by hunterchesters

  You’re woken up by  your doorbell ,followed by series of loud knocks on your front door. You roll over to look at your clock,

“ 2 in the fucking morning. You think they could atleast call first. ” you mumble as you drag yourself to your door.  You were a helpline for hunters, whether they needed information on a hunt, or to be patched up after a hard case. Usually you at least get a warning call, but whoever’s at your door obviously doesn’t know how to use a fucking phone. You whip your front door open, not bothering checking who it is, which you know is a dumb move, but right now you don’t care.

When you look up your met with vibrant green eyes. A smile instantly appears on your face,

  “ Dean ! ” You leap at him , throwing your arms around his neck. He lets out a deep laugh , wrapping his arms around your waist .  You hear someone clear there throat and look up behind Dean.

  “ You’re both here ?! please tell me no one kick started the end of the world again. ” You push off Dean to pull Sam into a hug. His giant arms engulf you into a bear hug ,making you let out a giggle.  The boys follow you into your home, and plop themselves on your couch.  You go right to the kitchen, grabbing them each a beer. When you get back you plant yourself between the boys, and wait for them to explain.   Dean throws his arm over your shoulders, hugging you close to him.  Does he know what he does to me? how is it possible to be that handsome. Damn .   You think back to when you met the boys at Bobby’s a couple years ago . You feel yourself blush, recalling how the first time the boys saw you was when you  were dancing around Bobby’s in a giant tee and underwear while making coffee.   Dean sighing breaks you out of your memory, and reminds your that you’re still waiting for an answer.

“ well boys, anyone going to tell me why you appeared on my doorstep at 2 in the morning, WITHOUT A PHONE CALL?!” They both wince when your voice rises. You stand up , sticking your hands on your hips while your stare at them . 

“ we just finished a case a couple hours away ,and figured we’d just drop by and say hi. Nothings wrong Y/n,  can’t we just miss you?” sams says, he pulls his puppy eyes out, and you melt.  Damn it Sammy .

“ Alright alright .You both look exhausted, go get washed up and decide whose sleeping where . I’ll go get the guest room cleaned up. ” You lean over and kiss both boys on the forehead.  Since you met them , you’ve been close with them .You help them on hunts, patch them up, and just hangout with them . You and Sam bond over books and tv series, things Dean claims as “nerd stuff” . They are both your bestfriends, but you feel a little differently towards the older Winchester. You openly flirt with eachother, nothing more has ever come of it though . You trust them both with your life, and nothing could ever change that.  As you’re making the guest bed, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Before you turn around , you are tackled onto the bed. A shriek leaves your lips as you land, with another body on top of you. You can tell its dean, by the lack of shaggy brown hair in your face .

“ Oh my God Dean, get off me ! You’re going to smush me ! ” you start to struggle underneath him while he lets outs a chuckle.

  He leans off you so hes hovering over you . Your breath hitches when you think of the position your in. A blush  appears on your cheeks, making a smirk appear on Deans.  Can he read my fucking mind? Or is his just as in the gutter?  Dean’s still hovering over you while his body is between your legs.   So help me God if Sam walks-  Your thoughts are cut short by exactly what you hope wouldn’t happen. Sam walks in with a towel around his waist and his duffel in his hand , a curios look on his face.

“ Dean you lost fair and square, couch is waiting for you. “  Dean gets off you , mocking what Sam said as he leaves the room. You try to stifle a laugh at the boys, but fail .

Sam sends you a devious grin .

” so what was that all about Y/n? “ He asks slyly. 

  ” Wipe that smug smirk off your face Sammy, before I do.“ You threaten. He rolls his eyes, and you hear him mumble what sounds like ” idiots” under his breath. You roll your eyes and walk to the door. You turn back around and give Sam a quick kiss on the cheek ,and said goodnight. He shuts the door behind you, you here Dean in the shower so You open the door, to say goodnight but before the words leave your mouth Dean speaks,

“ Come to join me sweetheart. ” You can hear the smirk on his face.  I wish. what a fucking tease.

“ Keep dreaming Winchester, I came to say goodnight. ” you lean yourself against the counter.

 He peeks his head out from behind the curtain, “  come on sweetheart, it would save water if you did .” You roll your eyes . Does he have an off button?

“ Fine fine, but one day ill get you to say yes. ” Dean always knows how to rile you  up. Sometimes you think he isn’t kidding when he says stuff like this, but then you realize he just feels comfortable enough around you to be himself. Nothing more. You say goodnight and head back towards your bed. When you get there, you strip off your pants, and crawl your way under the covers. About 10 minutes later you hear your door open, and close. You feel the bed dip behind you, and the scent of Deans body wash fills your nose. What the hell?

“ Dean, incase you haven’t notice, this isn’t the couch honey” The sarcasm drips from your voice, but he only laughs in return.

“ Sweetheart, you’re not really going to make me sleep on that thing are you? ” By now he’s under the blankets, you forget your pantsless until he snakes his arm around your waist. His hand is resting on your bare hip, sending shivers through your body .

Originally posted by maybe-just-one-more

“ Uh Dean , what are-”

  “ Will you calm down, it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. The only difference is apparently now you sleep without pants. Which, I’m not against. “  You can hear the flirty tone in his voice, but you ignore it .He’s right, you have shared a bed on hunts, and sometimes at Bobby’s .  You shake off your nerves, and scoot your body back into Deans, so he’s fully spooning you. His grip tightens on your waist, you hold in a moan at the feeling of being so close to him. It’s like the universe just wants to torture me. You both stay silent for a while, you shift around a little bit trying to get comfortable until Dean tightens his grip on you even harder.

” y/n , can you stop wiggling your ass against me? Don’t create a problem , unless you’re going to take care of it sweetheart.“  You let out a huff, and feel his chest shake with laughter. He thinks he is so funny, lets see how funny it is when I play back .

You start moving your ass against deans crotch again,  you can feel his dick start to harden against you  and you barely hold in a whimper at the feeling.He tightens his grip as a warning but you ignore it.  His hands move,sliding under your shirt and resting right under your bare boobs, barely grazing them . But the movement is enough to send a spark through you . He moves his mouth to your ear ,

” Don’t start this game Y/n . Go to sleep .“ He moves away , and places a kiss on the back of your head. Such a bastard. Just wait Dean.

 You take his warning and comply.  You’re too tired to deal with this right now, and frankly , you don’t know what has gotten into the both of you tonight . Harmless flirting is normal for you guys, but what just happened, this physical teasing is new. But you plan on testing this out tomorrow . You won’t let Dean win whatever game he started.

I’m By Her Side

* Burr x Reader
* Modern
* Requested by anonymous
* Request: reader is in love with Lafayette but he’s getting married and the reader is just…*suffering.* And then after Laf gets married, Burr realizes something’s off and the reader has to spill. And then she and Burr are in a soft and happy relationship

    A/N: Yet another one I pulled from the depths of request. I used a shit ton of italics in this one. Yeah anyway, there’s some probably wrong French translations. Also, wedding planning is a pain in the ass and no where near as easy as I made it sound. I just shortened it. Trust me, it sucks. Oh, and the suit I’m picturing Lafayette in is the one Daveed wore to the White House. But I hope you all enjoy.

    Word Count: 3,456

    ~~

    “Mes amies!” Lafayette greeted the group warmly. You looked up at your friend and smiled. His curly hair was pulled back like always. His eyes sparkled happily. His happiness was contagious. He dropped into the seat next to you. “I have great news!” He said.

    “What?” Alexander asked his energetic friend.

    “Adrienne is coming here from France!”

    You all exchanged blank looks. “Who?” You asked.

    Lafayette looked around at your confused faces. “Have I not mentioned mon amour before?” You recoiled, physically recoiled, at his words. Mon amour. My love. He had a girlfriend. “We’ve been engaged for years now.” Correction, he had a fiancé.

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    usha [ jin ]

    verb : to enjoy looking at the opposite other ; appreciate their beauty by staring.

    knock knock. who’s there? two idiots who are in love with each other.

    pairing: kim seokjin x reader
    genre: fluff
    type: hogwarts au
    word count: 2,380 words
    warnings: none
    author’s note: it’s been over two months since i had last written anything, and last night, i was reminded again of how intrinsically rewarding and absolutely wonderful writing is after talking to @jheartseok, so thank you again, ave ♡ this is based on bits of my own dreams and how i see #seokfie aka @syubits and jin in a hogwarts au ily elfie even though i know you love jimin most but you refuse to admit it still


    As one of the Hufflepuff prefects, you are making your rounds around the basement floor in the hallway opposite from your house’s entrance. You had passed the barrel fifteen minutes ago, now strolling down the kitchens corridor. It is quiet, which is the usual noise level down here. Hufflepuff students tend to stick to curfew hours more so than other houses, so you rarely find them sneaking out. Any clamor made by the house elves in the kitchens is sealed away behind the massive painting of the fruit bowl. You have not seen The Gray Lady floating by, so you assume she is haunting a place elsewhere tonight.

     A soft melody stuck in your head, you hum quietly and loosely hold your wand in hand, rhythmically tapping the tip of it against the side of your thigh as you continue your stroll. Suddenly, the edge of a heavy metal painting frame makes its way into your peripheral vision, and you quickly scamper away before you can suffer from a possible concussion, or a future visible bump on the forehead at the very least. 

    Your eyes are met with the outer corner portion of an ebony cloak first, then the golden lining stitched inside of it, and finally, the rather handsome side profile of the perpetrator is brought into view. Moments later, you can clearly see the man you caught red handed, who is still hastily attempting to shove something beneath his robe—Merlin’s beard, is that a two layer, frosted, decadent chocolate fudge cake with all the works?

    “Seokjin, what the heck?”

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    New fic: ‘Damn weather’

    This fic is for @emilyevanston, for being one of the kindest people there is. I’ve had a horrible day, including getting soaked through (sadly with a different ending than this fic!), being laughed at because of my mental health problems, then working late… But @emilyevanston made things better. Thank you <3

    So this was supposed to be a short thing but I waffle on, a lot. The idea came to me on the bus as I sat there wet through and I wrote it when I got in from work, so it’s a bit rushed, sorry. 

    I know you’re not a BuckyGirl, but this wouldn’t have worked with Chris/Steve/Cap. I promise the next Chris idea I have, is for you <3


    You couldn’t actually get any wetter now, you were pretty sure. Your umbrella had been turned inside out and was now dumped in the nearest bin, accompanied by muttered cursing.  Your boots, it turned out, had a hole in the sole and now one foot was wet and squelching. One wet foot was somehow worse than two, although the toes on both feet were numb with cold.  Your coat, advertised as waterproof, was apparently only proof against water that was in a sealed box a mile away. Water that was falling down from the sky was too much for it.  Your hands were red with cold, your nose probably matched, and your hair was plastered to your face.  

    You were standing by the side of the road, trying to get across, eyes firmly fixed on the bright windows of the café opposite.  The windows were fogged with steam, telling you just how warm it would be if you could just get across and in there. You wanted to wrap your hands around a warm mug of coffee, let the steam unlock the frozen muscles on your face, warm up just for half an hour or so before you faced the walk home. But you couldn’t get across. The traffic was constant, cars rushing past, headlights shining on the wet road, wheels hushing in the rain.  You let out a sigh of frustration.

    “Damn traffic, huh?”

    You looked up, surprised. You’d been so busy trying to blink the water off your eyelashes that you hadn’t realised there was someone else standing waiting now. Someone… oh… wow. Someone very attractive.  He gave you a half-smile, that smile of recognition, of fellow feeling, that said ‘look at the two of us, standing here all wet, while these drivers zoom past all dry’.  You couldn’t help but smile back; the way his mouth turned up at the corners was impossible to resist.

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    Don’t Leave Pt.2 (M)

    Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

    BTS; Yoongi/Suga

    Genre: Angst | Smut 

    Word count: 9,120 end my life

    Warnings: Emotional pain…… I’m sorry

    Description: Three years later and no word from Yoongi. When you move to Seoul for your first job out of college and bump into him accidentally, what secrets will unfold? 

    A/N: Again, wanted to thank @baeseoul who’s fic Destruction of a Muse inspired me to write this(please, please give it lots of love) and to @jungblue for giving me the idea. I apparently like to cause emotional pain and turmoil. I’m sorry.

    Also, thank you for bearing with me on the wait, I suck and procrastination is strong on my end, but I hope you all will enjoy.

    Originally posted by yoonkooks


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    Blame It On the Elevator (Yoonmin kinda-smut)

    Pairing: Yoonmin (Park Jimin and Min Yoongi)
    Rating: M
    Genre: Humor/Smut/College AU

    Words: 3,725

    SummaryJimin goes to the art building to drag Taehyung home, but he ends up helping a cute boy move paint cans into the elevator and…they get stuck. You can probably take a guess at what happens next.

    A/N: When I got this idea it was meant to end up something cute and fluffy, but since my mind is in the gutter here we are–touching dicks and shit. Enjoy.


    When Jimin enters the art building, the sun has long past set. The entire campus is dark around him, a light breeze ruffing the trees and causing him to pull his scarf tighter around his neck. Of course, people are still out and about, but most people have turned in for the night. It’s already 10 on a Tuesday, after all.

    As Jimin climbs the crooked stairs up to the entrance of the old building, his eyes rake over its familiar, broken features. Some of the windows are cracked, the white paint is peeling off in sheets, and, overall, the building could really use some TLC. (Too bad their university values the arts less than everything else. It’s a shame really).

    Finally pushing through the heavy front door, Jimin glances around, immediately turning left to take the stairs as he loosens his scarf. Taehyung is always on the 4th floor, working on some project or another, and tonight Jimin had come to drag him home after receiving a text that read ‘fuckkkkk jimin I’m so dead rn fam like ughhhhhhh oh my god I need some fuckin hotpockets or somethin park jiminnnnnnn’

    “I swear to god if Jeongguk gave him more pot…,” he snarls, pushing on the door to the stairwell, but pauses when there’s a crashing sound from behind him. After the crash comes a colorful curse of male origin, and instantly Jimin turns back to see what’s going on.

    Peeking his head around, he eventually spots a male about his height struggling to move an outrageous amount of paint cans and other art supplies into the buildings worn-out elevator.

    “Need some help?” Jimin asks politely, trying not laugh when he hears the male growl something along the lines of ‘I’d rather suck Namjoon’s dick and admit he’s a better dancer then have to lug all these fucking paint cans to the 5th floor what the fuck’.

    “Uh—,” the guy finally says at spotting Jimin in front of him, too lost in his own angry monologue to have noticed the boy approaching. “What?”

    Jimin rolls his eyes, smiling friendlily as he reaches down and grabs two of the gallon paint cans. “I’ll help you with these.”

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    When it rains...

    Yup, something full length and new from me. For the first time in forever. Written for @kittenofdoomage’s summer lovin’ challenge.

    John x reader

    Prompt: camping

    Words: 2000ish

    Warnings: smut, smut, smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Bad weather and annoyance.

    Beta’d by the ever lovely and kind @thing-you-do-with-that-thing who I love dearly.

    Gif from the amazing @manawhaat

    Tags: @jinnythegreat @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @katnharper @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deandoesthingstome @adriellej @for-the-love-of-dean @crowley-trash @aprofoundbondwithdean @sunriserose1023 @crzcorgi @classy-sassyandsmartassy @mrswhozeewhatsis@faith-in-dean @icecream-and-gadreel @mamapeterson @deansdirtywhore

    It was gonna rain. You were sure of it. You could feel it in your bones. Sure, the sun was out, but the air lay heavy and humid, clinging to you as you hiked, walking two steps behind him on the damp forest floor. It would be just your luck! John had managed to get you to take a few days off after a wendigo hunt to stay in the woods, camping. With every step you took the smell of rotting leaves and humid earth got whisked up, hitting your nostrils. You had liked it at first, the smell of pure nature giving you a feeling of outdoorsy wholesomeness, but now, with the clouds threatening to burst, the thrill was long gone. How had you let him trick you into this? You were already tired and sore from the hunt, and now you had to sleep in a tent for at least another night. Damn that John.

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    Bed Sheets -- Harry x Reader

    Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

    Summary: A household cleaning spell gone wrong…or did it actually go right?

    Originally posted by warriorjay

    “Er…what do we do now?”

    “Probably figure out an escape from our predicament and pray to whoever’s listening that no one comes in anytime soon.”

    “Sounds like a plan.”

    “More like our only option, my friend.”

    You grunted in pain as Harry struggled against your body. This is what happens when you try to use magic to speed up a simple chore like tidying your room. One minute, the sheets were obediently floating off the beds, ready to fold themselves. Then all of a sudden, they rebelled and chose instead to form a body-binding cocoon around you and your understandably unwilling friend. Now, instead of finishing early and getting back to enjoying the day, you were now wasting precious do-nothing time in a restraining bed sheet on the floor of the Weasleys’ guest bedroom, bound chest-to-chest to Harry Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, budding Quidditch star, best mate, secret object of your affections, you get the idea.

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    The District: Chapter 5

    Because the passions of men will not conform to the dictates of reason and justice, without constraint.” -Alexander Hamilton, The Federalist, no. 15.

    While August burned and hummed through the streets, slithering, heavy and sweet through the gutters, September came like a salve, like a cool cloth over fevered and scorched skin. The trees were the brightest green and the bay was whimpering against the cold that wanted to lap at the shore but refused to make landfall just yet. And all through the city, the mood shifted and the laze of the inhabitants yawned and stretched into work. 

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    When Things Fell Apart: Part Eight (Final Part)

    - Pre-warning you, it is super super long. But I have worked so hard on it to make sure it was as perfect as I had hoped and thank you for reading.(I have a little thank you message at the end too cause you guys are amazing individuals) - 

    / masterlist / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven 

    Four Years.

    The note remained in my fingertips even though I had memorised his words and meanings. It had been a long time since I bothered trying to talk to him, I told the empty line what needed to be said, I can remember it as if I uttered those words yesterday. 

    A lot can happen in four years, people can change and grow or shrink into their own existence. 1095 days to be precise, this is how long it has taken me to figure out who I was and with the spare 365 days I gave myself well, let’s just say I kept myself busy- since half of it remains hazy when I try and think about it. 

    Leaning back into the seat I re open the curtain, letting light into the aisle as I reminisce on the last time I was on a flight. I remember being drained, officially defeated by my status as a person and the guilt that had ridden my form, guilt from lying to Ashton, to Luke but also to myself. Closing my eyes I hear the cries that echoed down an empty line, the cries developing into muffled sobs as I tried to calm myself down only muttering apologies to him rather than coherent words. 

    In the distance the clouds clear revealing the reality of the dream world, masses of land covered in green, light rays shine through the clouds illuminating the ocean and the tiny ant sized people below. Could he be one of them? This remained an apparent thought that circled my mind even though I was hours away.  Sending my parents a quick message, letting them know roughly how long it would be until I’d land and return to the life they hope I’d lead- something relatively normal. 

    To me he was no longer dead, he was a ghost that haunted every decision I made. His voice spoke the fearful thoughts when I went to a bar or spoke to some guy or went on a date, he was haunting my every move and I couldn’t bare it, so I drowned it out. Unfortunately I can’t do that now, I can’t keep repeating the same actions as it’ll only end with more pain than it began with. When he first apologised there was a searing through my chest that spread rapidly through me. Pounding in my temples began and I felt sick to my stomach yet I was paralysed in a state of disbelief yet now, now everything is numb, and this my own undoing. 

    Focusing on the piano that played into my ears I cast those memories away for a good reason as a new voice entered my ears and I couldn’t help but overhear. “Yeah I just want to tell him I’m sorry, like I didn’t mean it I was just caught up in the moment of it all.” She was trying to be quiet from in front of me but through the slither of the chairs I could just make out the brown hair that was perfectly curled for a 12 hour flight. 

    Blinking I averted my eyes and ears from her conversation, I didn’t want to know the context nor did I care. Sighing I rested my head in my hand, focusing on the clouds clearing and a smile forming on my face. Everything was coated in white, gaps were made but everything else was in a complete blanket of snow; just in time for Christmas. Unaware of how much time had passed as a new day dawned I began to get myself together seeing the lights flicker for seat belts to be re fastened. 

    Having made it off of the plane and through the boardwalk I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. This was it now, this would be when I press play on my life again. I can’t pause anymore or rewind, I’m stuck in this moment and there’s no turning back. Releasing a shaky breath I grip onto my luggage even tighter than before and head into the arrivals area, my eyes scan the scenes of loved ones being reunited. Seeing them hugging tightly or having flowers or kissing non stop, tearing my eyes away I try not to think how much I miss it or crave that now. 

    The sound of my name being called with such joy caused my ears to perk, tilting my head up I see my parents waving and without a second to spare I run over to them. Embracing them both in a tight hug it’s as if I’m 12 again, coming home from an awful school trip that lasted four days and I had never missed them more, that was until now. Their hug meant security, complete protection and undoubtful sense of love. 

    Pulling away I wipe my face and let out a shaky laugh, now unable to hide my smile to see them in person. Not on a screen, not over the phone when I had time to spare but at home. 

    We began to walk out and I could sense my Dad watching me, he was doing the Dad thing of observing my current state, physically and mentally. They don’t know what happened in the past year, it is something I am suppressing from my own memories and refuse to relive it again, never again. Yet, I got better. I’m fresh, a flower that has blossomed for the first time and found a new way to live without the past. 

    “A fresh start eh love?” My Dad nudged me as we neared the car and I nodded in response. Taking my rucksack and suitcase I forced them into the small boot of the car, feeling the snow dust on my shoulders and the ground around us now grey mush as opposed to fresh frost. 

    As my Dad drove us home my Mum rambled on about everything I’ve missed, things she had told me three times before over the phone yet I was too preoccupied with the sights we passed. All of the trees that lined the small forests delicately draped in snowflakes, some had broken branches weighed down with thick layers of the stuff. I saw all of the houses that I cycled by as a child, most the same as ever before with faded paint or chipped bricks lining the walls. Others had makeovers with fresh colours and lavish decorations in their gardens, now barely visible due to the snow. 

    Feeling the car come to a halt I lift my head up and see my parents both smiling to me with that light glimpsing in their eyes. Just past their heads I focused through the raindrops that blurred the window ahead, lights could vaguely be seen but as they moved aside I leant forward and smiled brightly. “Home.” A heartfelt word that I hadn’t thought about in so long, my home had been various hotels for too long. Maybe this is what I needed after all. 

    Stepping out of the car I felt the crunch of snow beneath my feet and struggled to contain my excitement. Observing the outside of our house things hadn’t changed, everything seemed as if I never left excluding the fairy lights draped around the roof and gutter pipes for Christmas. 

    Linking arms with my Mum she gave my arm a light squeeze as we walked back inside. The soft scent of Lavender floated through the air as I stood in amazement to see slight alterations made to the decor that made me feel slightly uncomfortable. White replaced the once burgundy walls, probably since I wasn’t here to risk ruining white, laminate flooring instead of carpets and the photographs and achievements rearranged along with new artwork. 

    Taking slow steps forward I glanced around at the photos displayed seeing holidays, birthdays and christmases yet something seemed to be hidden behind an elephant sculpture. Reaching up to see it my Dad called me over preventing me from seeing what it was. Walking into the living room it remained the same as ever which was comforting, sitting down on the sofa I could see the Christmas tree up and presents settled beneath it. “So, three days until Christmas.” He started and soon smoothed his hands over the jeans that covered his thighs, a nervous tendency I picked up. “Any plans?” A brief look was exchanged with my Mum then their eyes focused back on me. 

    Shifting in my seat I just shook my head, “I just want to get back into things,” Smiling to them both I could see my Mum releasing her breath. “just to settle back into this.” I told them then excused myself to go back to my room and sort my things out. 

    It felt as if I truly was 12 again, my Mum told me what was for dinner and to have my washing in a basket ready for her. The climb up the stairs felt brief as I placed my luggage outside of my room, hovering my hand above the handle. Gripping onto the silver handle I pushed my door open, it was as if it had been untouched. Nothing had been changed, sure, it had been cleaned up but I still had the art on my wall, the array of books piling up and my notepad left open with some notes from my last visit here. 

    Yet I felt uncomfortable, trapped. In here the memories lingered, I hoped for change in this room to make new memories rather than reach out and grasp onto the old ones. I didn’t want to sit on my bed, I didn’t want to think about how he kissed me or how we slept together here. The art work he picked for me knowing I admired it for months perfectly framed on the wall was a reminder. You’re better than this, you’re starting again. Running my fingers through my hair I began to remove certain things and place them outside of my door- books, albums, wall art, prints, clothes; anything that left an uncomfortable memory of him in my mind. 

    Soon I sat in the centre of my room seeing it now bare in patches. I’m ready for new memories, I’m done living in the past. 


    Christmas Eve, my phone remained closer to me now yet I avoided social media but the ones I had were strictly private. My Instagram was merely to update my parents on my travels and I had to apologise to a particular person, despite the guilt that I kept hidden a fresh start meant tying up loose ends. These included the ones I had with Ashton. 

    Sitting up in my bed I take a peek outside of my blinds, the sun is only just rising and sleep still remains a difficulty since being back. The amount of snow left is decreasing and snowmen are now melting or have been destroyed resulting into nothing less than grey sludge that people slip over. Picking up my phone I take my earphones out and begin to text but pause halfway through the message. 

    Sighing I take a sip of water and delete the entire message. Instead of typing I place my phone to my ear, hoping he would pick up. Doubt circled my mind as the rings went on, I wouldn’t blame him for not answering, I know I wouldn’t or if I did it would be with high hopes for an explanation. 

    “If it isn’t the nightingale returning to the nest.” His accent was thick with sarcasm as opposed to the sweet tone he usually took with me, ignoring the stabbing in my stomach I sighed. 

    “Yes, there is a lot of explaining to do-”

    “Then you better get started.” He was short, I could hear shuffling in the background and voices becoming more faint as the seconds passed by. 

    Removing my duvet from my body I swung my legs over my bed and stretched out before standing in the centre of my room. “Obviously, I lied to you.” A scoff could be heard in response but I wouldn’t give in to his responses, not now. “And a lot happened whilst I was gone to me. Some of it good, some of it not so good.” Shaking my head I blinked rapidly, wanting to get rid of the pictures and voices I could hear replaying like a song stuck on a loop. 

    “You aren’t the only one.” A light laugh followed his response that made me feel at ease which was shortly lived. “Luke is a mess.” My heart felt heavy but I couldn’t allow it, not anymore.

    Sighing I sat down on my floor and glimpsed to the gap on my wall, reminding me of my old apartment in its entirety. “That’s not why I phoned.” Stopping him from continuing he questioned my reasoning, “I can’t keep doing this. Trying to move on and then being dragged back into Lukes problems.” I began to get frustrated with myself more than him. “Luke is not in my life and I’m not in his Ashton.” Stating the obvious to him I stood up and held my arm around my waist as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My expression was cold and hard, “It’s time to move on. I’m sorry for what I did to you. Goodbye.” With that I hung up. 

    No tears, no drama. I’m sick of being drawn back in and refused to allow it anymore. 

    My day went on as expected, I wrapped up warm and began to sort my room out and all of my belongings from my old apartment. I kept the things I wanted, the rest was binned as he the items he left were worthless, meaningless to me. Home was just somewhere I needed to be for a little while, things seemed to be more clear in the company of the wise. 

    The day had soon become dark and the sea of lights I was so used to seeing had dramatically changed to the occasional conversation that passed by our house. Children excitedly sang with their parents or spoke of magic from Santa, friends laughed about plans for the next few days and couples discussed anything and everything. The change was pleasant, it wasn’t all in a foreign language or in an unfamiliar setting, it felt secure which was what I was craving for sometime. 

    Sitting in the living room with a hot cup of tea whilst I snuggled up in my thick jumper I happily watched Christmas films, something that was a tradition in our family to do on Christmas Eve. I felt content, I was at peace with myself. I’m moving on with my life, I tied up my loose ends with Ashton and he hasn’t been in touch since. Fans quieted down a year or so ago on my behalf, I never looked into why but was grateful for the absence of rumours exploding on my phone. 

    A quiet knock on the door interrupted the film during the first twenty minutes. Placing my mug down I looked to my parents, “Expecting anyone?” I spoke up and headed out of the room. 

    “Oh it might be Rosemary! You know she said she might pop round.” Chuckling to myself I neared the door and opened it with a wide smile to greet my Mums old friend. 

    As the door opened and I held it wide open for her to enter my smile dropped, it vanished entirely. My whole body became tense and I was questioning my eyes, this wasn’t real, this must be dream. It must be

    Deep purple bags were etched into his under eyes along with multiple creases surrounding the outer corners of those once vivid blue eyes full of laughter and life. Now they were void of all emotion, life, any source of hope. His entire face seemed broken, his posture weakened and he hung his shoulders forward in defeat. Even from here I could see the trembling of his body, his broad shoulders shaking silently. His lips quivered as he opened his mouth to speak but I couldn’t bare it, my body reacted faster than my brain could process and I slammed the door on him. 

    Resting my head against the door the beating of my heart rode over any source of sound. The thumping intensified as I picked out every aspect of him again, but worst of all his eyes. He was broken, truly and completely broken. Ashton said a mess, by a mess I assumed he went off the rails with Arzaylea. The last thing on my mind was him barely able to stand up and hold himself, I didn’t expect to see him here of all places on Christmas Eve. 

    Light footsteps could be heard making their way towards me and a hand was placed on my shoulder. “Give him five minutes honey,” My Mum softly spoke to me as I lifted my head from the door frame. The thumping of my heart beat died down, my sense of sound had returned just in time to hear her words of wisdom. “you give him five minutes to explain it all and then it’s up to you what to do next. If you don’t, then you’ll always wonder.” She shrugged her shoulders to me and gave me a small hug before walking away back to the living room, closing the door behind her. 

    Glancing down to the door knob I was unaware of my how much my hand was trembling. Her words replayed in my mind as I gripped it instantly then froze as I tried to think what I’d do when I saw him again. 

    Taking a deep breath I quickly opened the door expecting to see him stood, waiting for me again. Yet he was nowhere to be seen, in a state of panic various thoughts flooded my mind and my feet lead me down the poorly lit streets. I passed neighbours who wished me a merry Christmas or exchanged mere pleasantries as I stayed light on my feet and eyes peeled out for him. A weak mutter of my name caused me to stop half way up my road, turning around I moved my hair out of my eyes and saw the large tree that the kids played in during summer just before the entrance to the fields. 

    Sat beneath them in the remaining sludge he shivered violently, his arms wrapped around his knees he struggled to lift his head to see me. In an instance I rushed over and kneeled in front of him, my right hand reaching out to his cheek and holding it, feeling how bitter it felt and lacked warmth entirely. My other hand was on his knee, unsure what else to do I helped him to his feet and began to walk in silence towards my house. 

    It took us a while to walk the short distance, he stumbled over his feet and mostly relied on me to help him. His hand wrapped around mine I blocked out the faint butterflies and carried on. Five minutes may be ten now, but it’s something. As we approached my house I helped him inside and up the stairs, the film could be heard playing and I silently thanked my parents for keeping out of it all. 

    Taking him upstairs I grabbed all the blankets I could find as I lead him towards the spare room yet he sidetracked me and walked in the direction of my room. Quickly I tugged his arm, guiding him back the other way silently until he was sat on the spare bed engulfed in layers upon layers of blankets. 

    Sitting in front of him I passed him a glass of water, it shaked with force in his hand as he moved it towards his face gulping it down. He leant back into the bed and sighed. I couldn’t help but think continuously what had happened to him, how he ended up here of all places. “Why, why are you here Luke?” Speaking up I broke the silence between the two of us and I fiddled with the loose cotton on the edges of my jumper. 

    A long pause followed until he sat upright in front of me. It seemed weird, we were like strangers. This person who sat before me was not one I recognised nor knew in the past. He is a mere shell of who he was when he made me laugh, when he told me he loved me much like myself. I’ve changed and grown yet there’s something, something I can’t put my finger on. 

    “I needed to, I needed to see you.” He mumbled as he his fists tightened, I could see the red marks that lined his knuckles and the dried blood that coated them. 

    He kept his head down whilst I got up to get some water for his hands to clean them up. As I got to the bathroom I looked at my reflection as I filled a bowl up with warm water. I picked out all the things that had changed about me for the better, I noticed how I seemed happier, things didn’t seem so heavy on me. Yet there was that one thing in my eyes that was growing, that curiosity to who Luke is now. Something I struggle to let go of no matter how much I try to deny it. 

    Walking back to the room I open the door to see the pile of blankets left on the bed, vacant of Luke. Placing the bowl down I walk out and head towards my room, the door ajar and he stands taller, broader in the centre just looking around. “You changed.” He spoke up as I lent against the doorway, crossing my arms. 

    “It was for the better.” I was clear and confident. Luke turned back around to face me and I could see the hurt in his expression, all he did was nod before walking closer to me. 

    The cockiness he greeted me with years ago was gone, the shy boy I first met was gone and in his place was this unknown pain, this feeling I was unfamiliar with. His eyes travelled past my face and to my neck, he lifted his hand up and I pushed it away with force. “You, you still wear the locket?” He sounded surprised and I placed my hand over the necklace, unaware I was wearing it. 

    Feeling the locket in my finger tips I showed a small smile, “I always wear it.” My smile began to fade as I straightened back up. “It was one of the only things that wasn’t ruined for me by you.” Walking away I headed back to the spare room and patiently waited for him. 

    I could hear my heart beating faster and the blush crossing my cheeks, just like it always did when I was with him. Sitting down I could hear his heavy footsteps nearing and he defeatedly collapsed back down, he placed his hands in front of me with ease. As I cleaned them the clear liquid became diluted with crimson, “So, four years.” He let out a dry laugh in between winces as I carefully dabbed at the cuts that lined his knuckles. 

    “Four years.” Repeating his words I pictured the time I had, the good and the bad. Unaware of my pause Luke placed his hand on top of mine, bringing me back into this moment. 

    He looked at me with some concern, similar to how he did in the lead up to leaving for a tour. “Ashton told me everything.” He muttered breaking the quiet and I lowered my head, ashamed of what I did despite it all. “What happened to you?” The concern etched into his words as he lowered his voice, his head becoming closer to mine and his hands now on my thighs. 

    Moving away from him I let his hands fall down, “Nothing Luke.” Shutting him off I saw his shoulders dip again. “What happened to you?” Raising an eyebrow he pushed himself against the wall and looked me in the eyes. 

    “Arzaylea broke up with me, not long after you left.” I scoffed at the thought, unsure how to take the news as it seemed almost ironic. “Then she proceeded to sell the story of our relationship.” He quickly said and my eyes went wide and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

    “She, she actually sold your relationship? Wow, that is just a new level of pathetic.” Luke merely nodded in response. For a guy who has had around three years to get over it he doesn’t seem phased. 

    He rested his head against the wall and dried his knuckles off, “You know I realised a lot when she was gone.” Sighing I moved my hair out of my face, not sure if I would want to know. 

    “Do I need to know this or can I just-” I motioned away but he leant forward again, desperation lingering in his eyes. 

    He pleaded, “Please, just hear me out.” Repositioning myself in the chair I gave him my full attention, ready to hear whatever it was he had to say. “When Ashton told me you had gone I was angry, I was angry at you initially but more so at myself for doing this to you.” Nodding along I knew what he meant. “I acted out and she didn’t like it so she called it off. Then I saw the story and went off the rails, I made temporary friends every night, I drank away everything until I remembered mere moments of it stored in my camera roll.” He sighed and buried his head in his hands. “My parents made me get help again, I got out a week ago and I just had to see you.” I could hear the hope in his tone and I shifted on the spot. 

    “Sounds tough.” My only response, the one I could word without sounding too harsh or too petty. 

    He nodded and let out a dry laugh, one that was slightly unnerving. “I was lost. The person I was is gone and I want him back. It hurts me to know I’m like this and I feel trapped.” 

    “I nearly killed myself last year.” I whispered. Something I had never admitted aloud. He remained still, too still. “Things were going well, I learned to love life on my own but one day I woke up and hated everything. I hated that the people I woke up with didn’t care about me. That my memories would fade and all I’d be left with were photos or notes we had. I hated that I was so alone in cities full of life.” My eyes remained shut as I explained, it was something I feared speaking about for too long. 

    Yet, I felt if I were to tell anyone it would be Luke. 

    “Something was always missing. There was a vacant space lodged inside of me and it only grew the longer I stayed like that. It felt like too much and I wanted it to stop.” I paused for breath and felt a single tear trickle down my cheek. “So I tried to make it stop.” Another tear fell but was wiped away by a heavy hand that rested against my cheek. 

    Opening my eyes he sat close in front of me, focused on me entirely with pure empathy. “You tried to make it stop indefinitely?” He whispered and all I could do was nod. 

    “When it failed I figured things out. I decided to come home. A fresh start.” I stated and nodded to myself. “Yet I still keep the box your Mum gave me, I’m still wearing the locket from my first Christmas with your family. I still read the lyrics of the song you wrote about me and I can’t-”

    He shushed me and moved his hand away from my cheek, “That wasn’t the only song.” A simple sentence that caught my attention, my mouth partially opened as I waited for more to be said. “I wrote so many, there are so many that I wrote, I recorded and kept back for something else.” His fingertips circled my palm as he continued to explain whilst my heart remained lodged in my throat. 

    “When I was so close to ending it all there was only one person I wanted to talk to.” Part of me felt so pathetic for admitting it, but it had to be said. I had to be honest, I was always honest with Luke. “All I wanted to do was talk to you, see if I could make some sense of it all with you in mind.” Shaking my head I wiped away the tears that fell, unable to do anything else. 

    He held my hands tightly in his, “I will always want to know these things.” I focused on the raw emotion in those blue eyes, “No matter the time, the place, the cost of the phone call I will always want to make sure you are okay.” He kept his eyes on mine, not tearing away for a single second as the words flowed. “You are the one person that matters to me the most. You always have been and this time we’ve had apart has made me realise and put things in perspective.” 

    “We’re rare, Luke.” I stated. “Ashton knows, your family knows it, my family try and deny it for my own sake but we can’t.” Shaking my head I let out a small laugh. “Ashton told me years ago about how I can’t see the look you have in your eyes when I’m turned away.” Luke smiled to himself, his gaze torn away from mine. 

    “You’re just genuine. You have been you from day one. Remember my letter?” He asked and I nodded, like I could forget. “Every word, every word came from the bottom of my heart. I was still amazed to wake up to you in the mornings we had together. To sit with you at family meals or have someone to open up to on anything.” The light that was vacant slowly reappeared as he streamed the truth, something I’ve been unknowingly waiting for. 

    He moved closer and placed his hand on my cheek, stroking it and I placed my hand on top of his, missing his touch. “Things fell apart when I let you go.” I whispered as I flickered from his eyes to his lips.

    “I can’t lose you again, not for anything.” He spoke in a hushed tone, as I closed my eyes. “I’ll always be here for you, please know that.” 

    I could feel his breath on mine and the beating of my heart blocking out everything except my own words, “We can fix each other, piece by piece.” 

    His lips met mine and everything else melted away. All of our memories played back from the first time he approached me to the day I got this locket that I always wore. As I pulled away I rested my forehead against his, letting out a heavy breath. “Merry Christmas Luke.” 

    Even after all this time I can no longer deny myself of feelings. I endured more heartache than I ever imagined possible for one heart to deal with. My life felt meaningless and the weight on my shoulders grew with each day that passed as the regret became harder to carry.

     I’m tired of losing those I love. No more tears, no more drama, my search is over at long last and slowly we can mend the pieces that fell apart.

    - and that is the end to When Things Fell Apart. It is currently 1:30 in the morning but I had to finish this. My first ever piece I wrote on tumblr now being one of my most successful series’ I cannot thank you enough. Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, love to you all. - 

    Eye of the Beholder: Chapter One

    Ao3 Link

    Pairings: Adrien Agreste/Alya Cesaire/Marinette Dupain Cheng

    Chapter Summary: First part of the Winging It AU in which Alya becomes fabulous and nearly destroys her bedroom

    It was a brisk summer evening when Alya first kissed her best friend full on the mouth.

    At the time, Alya didn’t know it was Marinette’s cherry lip gloss that lingered on her lips after each kiss; didn’t know that Marinette’s gloved fingers threaded through hers. She didn’t know anything beyond the fact that the only sound she could hear against the dim din of the city was the sound of Ladybug’s shallow breathing. They were each so afraid to break contact; afraid that the tentative trio they spent the last six months building might fall apart. Alya was partly afraid that the rage from the Ladynoir fans would create a legion of akuma that would swallow Paris whole but not afraid enough to pull back. The warm light of the setting sun and the warm pressure against her lips were indistinguishable and she didn’t want to go without either just yet. If she had known it was Marinette she might not have stopped. If she had known that this would only be the first of many kisses, she might not have been so reluctant to pull away.

    And if she had known that in two months’ time she would find herself kissing the stunned, heartbroken, wide eyed Adrien Agreste lingering on the edge of the rooftop a few yards away she might not have felt her stomach drop as her eyes opened to see him standing there.

    But perhaps some context is in order.

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    Feather Fans And Garter Belts {Part 9}

    Fandom: Marvel/Avengers

    Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Burlesque Dancer Reader

    Warning: N/A for this chapter

    Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom aka @thequeenofthehobbits

    Summary/Request: You like Steve Rogers because he’s sweet and kind and doesn’t look at you like a piece of meat. Steve likes you because you treat him like anyone else, make him feel confident, and look at him like he’s just as tall as all the other guys.

    Part 1 X, Part 2 X, Part 3 X, Part 4 X, Part 5 X, Part 6 X, Part 7 X, Part 8 X

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    another bit of vixen!neil au 

    (check the tag for more)

    Neil’s reflection in the mirror catches his attention, and he steps closer to examine it despite the familiar discomfort of doing so.  In the silvered glass is Neil Josten, who is not Nathaniel Wesninski – the hair is several shades too dark, and the eyes are all wrong.  

    Neil Josten is not Nathaniel Wesninski.  For a start, Neil Josten apparently has a death wish.

    There’s a scuff of a shoe outside.  Neil suppresses the immediate instinct to flee because there’s nowhere for him to go, staying frozen in front of the mirror looking into his own eyes.

    “You just made yourself an enemy,” Andrew Minyard says.  Neil manages to suppress his flinch, flicking a glance to Andrew’s reflection in the mirror.  He’s not very tall, but he seems to fill the entrance entirely where he’s leaning against the doorframe.  Even with him blocking the exit, it doesn’t feel like a trap.

    Neil laughs, rough in his throat.  “I know.”

    “You know,” Andrew repeats musingly.  The florescent light overhead turns his smile shadowed.  “And do you know who exactly it is you’re making an enemy of?”

    “Captain of the Edgar Allen Ravens, weird obsession with Kevin Day, entitled streak big enough for every one of your team mates put together,” Neil quips.  Watched a man cut down right in front of him as a kid and didn’t flinch.  From a family that associates with my father.  “I didn’t exactly see you trying to make friends with him either.”

    Andrew’s smile finally turns from something rote stretching his face to actually amused at that last part.  His eyes glitter, too sharp by half.  Neil feels unnervingly seen by them, like Andrew can see straight through him.  Never mind Riko, this is a man to stay the hell away from if Neil wants to maintain his delicate existence.

    “So you know a little about him,” Andrew says.  “And within the evening he’ll know everything there is to know about you, down to where your mother and father live.”

    “My mother and father are dead already,” Neil lies.  “So if that’s meant to scare me, try again.”

    Andrew’s head tilts.  “An orphan?  Is that the explanation for your reckless streak?”

    “Why?  Is it the explanation for yours?” Neil shoots back.

    Andrew laughs.  “Oh, Neil.  I’m not reckless.”

    Gossip says that that’s a lie.  Neil’s experience with people like Andrew agrees with the whispers he’s heard.  But the last couple of hours in Andrew’s company niggle at Neil, his very sharp threat to Gordon aside.  You can’t cut down someone already in the gutter, Andrew had said before, but not caring about insults wasn’t the same as being generally reckless.  Neil would know.

    “Threats to my family seems a little extreme,” Neil says.  “This is just over a game.”

    “No,” Andrew replies.  “This isn’t the same as whatever little high school games you did cartwheels and chants at.  If you want to play our kind of game, then you better prepare yourself for the stakes to be higher than what you’re used to.”

    Cartwheels and chants.  Gritting his teeth, Neil asks, “No warning to stay out of it?”

    “I think it’s too late for that,” Andrew says.  “Don’t you?”

    Riko probably has someone tearing apart Neil’s carefully hidden paper trail right now.  If Neil is lucky, Riko won’t be able to follow it all the way back to Baltimore, and his impulsivity won’t be punished with death at the hands of his father.  

    Neil isn’t lucky very often.  It’s probably too late for him already.  He says, “I guess I’ll find out.”