my teeth are rotting from the sweetness

Official Graveyard Shift Lyrics

Well Mrs. Pharmacist / I insist / fix me up with something quick
I’ve been a bad little boy and I think i’m getting sick
Sick to the bone / slave to the flesh
Better put on my Sunday’s best      
I’ve been bad little boy… little boy

I’ve got a dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty little secret
And I’m not not not sure that I wanna keep it
So we feed ourselves lies to submit to the shadows
Cause we just wanna dance under our pretty perfect halos

Everyone’s got a secret
Whats yours? whats yours?
Don’t be shy, i’ll never repeat it  

Oh Mrs. Pharmacist / if I resist / lock me up and bind my wrists
You’ve been a bad little girl…. little girl.    
Close your eyes and listen close
I know just how much you love it
If you speak you lose your turn
So shut your mouth before I fuck it

Everyone’s got a secret
Tell me all about yours

Love. Hate.
Oh how we play the game
Cold soul
No sense of self control
Love. Hate.
Unsure to pass or play
Cold soul / now  we’re out of control

Roses are red, and my heart is black
We creep about the floor to indulge like Rats
Enraptured, we walk to nurse our obsession
Cause the roles that we play are paved with cruel intentions

Well  Mrs. Pharmacist… If you insist

I’ve got a dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty little secret
And I’m not not not sure that I wanna keep it
So we feed ourselves lies to submit to the shadows
And I just wanna shake you by your little perfect fucking halo

Everyone’s got a secret
Whats yours? whats yours?
Don’t be shy, i’ll never repeat it.

Queen For Queen
If you wanna soar with vultures, you’ll have to swallow bone
The saint charade is over / plastic royalty exposed
You wanna play the victim, to preach upon your throne                                  
No semblance of virtue as your relevance erodes

We go queen for queen  and move just like this

When you fall down
Will you back out
As you crawl through life with no crown?
Though you preach love, you package lies
Just a pawn in a kings disguise

I never said I’m perfect, there’s a guilt behind these eyes
So check me If it helps you fall asleep at night

Your skeletons are building / your closet’s getting tight
Are you the prey or spider in the web of all your lies?

When you fall down
Will you back out
As you crawl through life with no crown?
Though you preach love, you package lies
Just a pawn in a kings disguise

Don’t stop breathing in the chemicals
You don’t know humble… though you play the role
Pockets of evergreen are your amphetamine
Please stop feeding what you can’t control

You’ll bend, you’ll break, (you’ll) trip over your “fame”
Be careful, or you’ll run your mouth off your face

Necessary Evil (Feat. Jonathan Davis)
Strip off the weight of morality, and check it at the door
I’ll show you the worst in me
…what i’ve become
Blow out the candles I need not a wish
For I am everything
Now crawl to my boots and lick
Kneel before me

Imma have my cake and fucking eat you too.

It’s my party and i’ll die when I want to, die when I want to, die when I want to
The monster you’ve made is wearing the crown
I’ll be the king and you be clown
I’ll take the blame (and) parade it around.
You’ve made me the villain you can’t live without.

Reciting violence like poetry
No you can’t sit with us
Too fashionably plain  
Now say my name
Forget everything you think you knew of who I used to be
I look much better as… as the enemy

Imma have my fucking cake and eat yours too.

I want you low
I won’t let you die
(I’ll) keep you alive
Just to remind you of what you are not

It’s my party and i’ll die when I want to
you wanna see me fail, but I won’t die for you.

You’re mine motherfucker

Let me begin with envy’s a sin
You’ll have to find new words to invent
Cause I’ve heard your broken record, and i’m not impressed

I love when you talk, I just use it to drive me
I won’t let your judgement define me
I’m not broken, so don’t fix me
I want you to hate me

Tell me what you’ve lost
Hang me on your cross
If you’re so wise, then why are you so Soft?
Do you leave your “throne” as you cast your stones?              
I’m above living under your microscope

I’m insane, I’m “insane in the membrane”
I wanna fuck your face with a switchblade
I’m not broken, so don’t fix me
I’ll leave you behind me

Internet killed the video star

Cry baby cry baby, did I just hear you whimper?
Cry baby cry…
Suck my middle fucking finger

Cry baby / Cry baby
What have you done lately?
Cry baby / Cry baby  
What have you done?

Tell me what you’ve lost.
Demonize my flaws
Do they call you when dumb needs a mascot?
Do you leave your “throne” as you cast your stones?              
I’m above living under your microscope

You dilate / god of your existence
Begging me to listen while you “pray”
Swallow in vain / sliver spoon religion
Closer from a distance

You’re mine motherfucker

They try to bend / they try to break me by design
But I am the nightmare that will haunt you in the light

If it’s war that you want… then I’m ready to play
And the world’s gonna know my name

Through everywhere that I go
Every failure I’ve owned
Every crack in my bones
I’m Untouchable
Like a sleeping grenade
Built to blow you away
Pull the pin… I explode
I’m Untouchable.

Born of the ground I dug myself out from the dirt
With every scar I will avow to shake the earth

Unless it’s blood that you want.. then get the fuck out my way
Cause the world’s gonna scream my name

I will never be silenced
I will eclipse the pain

You can’t let it go      
(It’s) the price that we pay
But I own the grave from which I came
You reap what you sow
We don’t bleed the same  
Cause I own the rights to my own fate
And i’ll sleep a king on my deathbed

Through everywhere that I go
Every failure i’ve owned
Every crack in my bones
I’m Untouchable
Like a sleeping grenade
Built to blow you away
Pull the pin… I Explode
I’m Untouchable.

Every mile from home
Every failure I’ve owned
Every crack in my bones
I’m Untouchable
Like a sleeping grenade
Built to blow you away
Pull the pin… I Explode
I’m Untouchable.

Not My Type: Dead As Fuck 2
She’s got no soul / heart black as coal
She’s from Hollywood Forever / dug her out of a hole
And here we go again / spinnin me in her web
She said “there’s just no rest for the queen of the dead”

Another trick to treat with candy apple dreams
Gonna rot her teeth cause i’m so sweet
One lick to rule them all
They crumble as they crawl

She loves me cause I like to give head like a zombie
(I) eat eat eat till her insides are on me
She loves me cause I give head like a zombie
(I) eat eat eat and nobody’s gonna stop me
And in the glow of the pale moonlight
She goes for a spin on my haunted hayride
Tried out the living but I don’t believe the hype  
Cause if she’s got a pulse, then she’s not my type.

She’s got a temper in stock / made of hemlock
Uses absinthe as a lip gloss
Death hawk / fresh New Rock’s                              
She’ll use your corpse as a catwalk

She’ll use your corpse as a catwalk
Plays truth or dare in the mirror
Uses absinthe as a lip gloss
Undead, but won’t shed a tear

She’s my graveyard baby
She’s my……

She loves me cause I like to give head like a zombie
(I) eat eat eat till her insides are on me
She loves me cause I give head like a zombie
(I) eat eat eat and nobody’s gonna stop me
And in the glow of the pale moonlight
She goes for a spin on my haunted hayride
Tried out the living but I don’t believe the hype  
Cause if she’s got a pulse, then she’s not my type.

D- E - A - D  
If she’s got a pulse, then she’s not my type.

The Ladder
Tragedy / a poisonous lover
You infiltrate to destroy
Vanity / a cancer unforgiving
A charlatan with poise  

Fool me once / enough is enough
Was I more than a step on your way up?
Hollowed out /  I’ve no semblance of love
Now you’re just somebody that I used to fuck.

Lest we learn / the tables turn / so i’m betting out / I’m betting out.
You can be the prey in your masquerade, but i’m getting out / i’m getting out
There’s nothing left to repair

Ravenous / self righteous and lurid
But how much more till you break?
Scavenger / so fucking undeserving
You slither in just to take what you can take

Counterfeit / I’m calling your bluff
Was I more than just a step on your way up?
Now you’ll burn and you’re flesh out of luck
Now you’re just somebody that I used to fuck

Lest we learn / the tables turn / so i’m betting out / I’m betting out.
You can be the prey in your masquerade, but i’m getting out / i’m getting out
Against insight I fed your source of revenue
But now, it means nothing to me to mean anything to you

Open grave /  I was too blind to see
That “love”, spelled to you, is “F A M E”

You fuck your way up the ladder
Going down on your way to the top
Do your arms ever tire?
Or do they heal while you climb with your mouth?  

Delete Everything
Sever the yearning / you can keep the fucking ring
Delete Everything
You can keep the fucking ring

Nothing left to repair.

Voices in my head again
Trapped in a war inside my own skin
They’re pulling me under.

I’ve swallowed myself but the fever remains
I’m numb to the pleasure but still feel the pain      
If I showed you my soul, would you cover your eyes?
If I told you the truth, would you dare me to lie?  

I keep it all inside because I know that man is every thing but kind

Voices in my head again
Beating me in a war I can’t win  
I can hear them now
Trapped in a game inside my own skin
And I don’t know myself anymore
They’re pulling me under

As I walk through this valley of shadows and death
I curse not the “wicked”, I praise not the “blessed”
If I told you the truth, you’d beg me to change
If fear were a currency, you’d own the bank

I don’t want to live so calloused and frozen / ugly and hopeless
I don’t want to live forever, I just want to live right now
You can’t take me from me

I keep it all inside because I know that man is everything but kind

LOUD (Fuck It)
You gotta be loud / You gotta be rude / so the world can hear you
You gotta be crass / You gotta be cold / it’s everything we know
Turn it up turn it up now

Another day, a double shot of hate
Drink it up like gasoline
Underpaid, you graduate, to build somebody else’s dream

With a noose as a tie… do you fantasize of a much different life?  
The fix for who they want you to be / directly streamed to your TV

And when they turn their backs on you…

You gotta be loud / You gotta be rude / so the world can hear you
You gotta be crass / You gotta be cold / it’s everything we know
Turn it up turn it up now
Loud / Rude / When nobody hears you
You gotta stand up / You gotta commit
Say “Fuck It”, make the best of it

A broken home you’re trying to mend
You’ve got one day left to pay the rent
We’re not sure, but we believe in the lie… that it’ll all be fine, when we die

It’s so easy to grant the mirror power to control what you want to erase                      
Don’t become another victim / “Put a smile on that face”

You gotta be loud / You gotta be rude / so the world can hear you
You gotta be crass / You gotta be cold / it’s everything we know
Turn it up turn it up now
Loud / Rude / When nobody hears you
You gotta stand up / You gotta commit
Say “Fuck It”, make the best of it

The money’s in the treatment, baby, not in the cure
So they fuel your pain with fear and shame and then hand you a brochure
The money’s in the treatment, baby, not in the cure
So they build you up to watch you fall and then beg for an encore

What are you waiting for?

Burn it down / brick by brick / Made in 2006
Lost and found / losing grip /  I needed this
Question me not, for I gave up everything
Forget me not, cause I’ve not forgotten what this means

Strip me down, tear me apart, you’ll find one theme left
No sign of stopping till my veins rust
Strip me down, tear me apart, you’ll find one thing left
I fucking know where I came from

..And nothing can replace those lessons learned
as I stood with my brothers on the side of the road
No longer haunted by the skeletons
No longer haunted by the past

For so long, it’s all i’ve known
I’m crossing over the undertow
For so long, no one was listening
Determined to make their deaf ears ring

Miles repeat / my worst enemy… is me.
But then four soon became six… to shatter the canvas
Handed nothing / loss pulling the strings
Outlived the dead trends / united by distance

I’ve been to hell and back, with no promise of return
So I made friends with fire, to keep from getting burned
No money, no sleep. dedication
10 years on the road this is sacred
And when i’m facing a wall, I do not quit
…Cause if you mean it, you will make it.

Pulled apart in a world so demanding
I’m still here, still standing
I’ve sweat blood from Stockholm to Scranton
Still here, still standing.

You can always rinse the surface, but the stain will remain

For so long, it’s all i’ve known
I’m crossing over the undertow
For so long no one was listening
I did my time

You live / you learn / you defy the terms, but this house will be my home
Beguiled / betrayed / it’s the price we pay, as trust will be our tomb

If you mean it, you’ll make it.

I’ve watched the whole world drowning in chemicals
Dissociative / but it takes it’s toll
Can I surpass time, or would I start to rust?
Depreciating / collecting dust

And I fear myself as I fall away  
In a cold deluded sense of fate
When the nightmares come, and the doubt sets in
Will the fever break, or will I burn from within?  

It’s too late to feel, I’ve lost my breath
With the hands of time around my neck
Am I more than the pen that wrote the past?
Or am I just the sand enslaved by the Hourglass?

Will I live again, or will I fade to black?    
Dehumanizing / when the heart attacks      
Will I expire before my dreams unfold?
But if the futures so bright, the path should glow

As the walls melt
and the light fades
I’m letting quicksand take me

If you look beyond the blindfold
You’ll find the hole in my soul
One fear, one mind, no hope, no time
If you look beyond the blindfold
You’ll find the hole in my soul

I’m on the edge of my seat
Holding out for a sign
Trying to rewrite the storyline

It’s too late to feel, I’ve lost my breath
With the hands of time around my neck
Am I more than the pen that wrote the past
Or am I just the sand encased in the Hourglass?

Fear is not my fate

Eternally Yours
Blow the bridge to the past / wipe the fingerprints
Melt your heart encased in wax / steal it with a kiss
Our fate engraved / scar enslaved / as we mutually destruct
Repose, my love, i’ve sinned enough for the both of us

In the name of love…..

I’m ready to bury all of my bones
I’m ready to lie but say I won’t
So tell me your secrets / and join me in pieces
To rot in this garden made of stones
Eternally yours

I feed like you taught me and selflessly swallow
We coalesce in darkness, so selfishly hollow
Examine the wreckage / writhing in tempo
Invisible anguish casting a shadow  

and in the name of love…

I’m ready to bury all of my bones
I’m ready to lie but say I won’t
So tell me your secrets / and join me in pieces
To rot in this garden made of stones
Eternally yours

As we rest in pieces, though I know not your name
I would suffer forever to absolve all your pain

And in the name of love

I’m ready to bury all of my bones
I’m ready to lie but say I won’t
So tell me your secrets / and join me in pieces
To rot in this garden made of stones
Eternally yours

I’m ready to bleed to make amends
And sleep in this dirt we call our bed
So tell me your secrets / and join me in pieces
To fall and rewrite the bitter end
Eternally yours

I’m more than willing to rot in hell with you.

Burning Questions

Chlonath Week Day 5: First Kiss/Holding Hands


How did you find out my identity?

The first time she asked him, he smiled at her and said “Wouldn’t you like to know?” before walking away.

But Chloe Bourgeois was nothing if not tenacious, so a few days later, she sat beside him in the school courtyard at lunch and asked him again.

“How did I find out?” he asked in the tone of someone who knew very well how, but didn’t feel like telling her. She waited one minute. He said nothing. Five minutes. He hummed to himself. The entire lunch period passed by in relative silence that was, to her utmost frustration, not entirely unpleasant. And when the bell finally rang, he packed up his things and said, “We should do this again sometime.”

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a little slice of heaven

Summary: Rose stumbles upon a bakery one morning when she’s out far too early for her liking. (Ten/Rose bakery AU)

Word Count: 705 words || Rating: All Ages

Notes: for the absolutely amazing @boobiedook who i love immensely and was in need of some fluff. hopefully this tooth-rottingly sweet thing has magical healing powers ♥


Rose stumbled into the shop still half asleep, lured in by the smell of cinnamon and vanilla and what she thought just might be heaven. A little bell above the blue door announced her arrival and she stopped in her tracks once she was inside. It was a warm bakery, bigger than she had expected from the storefront and suffused with soft gold light that lit up the treats stacked in glass cases around the room.

“Oh, hello! No one usually wanders in this early.”

Rose looked up to find a tall, lanky man walking out of the back room with a tray filled with mini loaves of some sort of bread in his hands. His brown hair was sticking up in every direction and there was a streak of flour highlighting one cheekbone.

“I didn’t even check to see if you were open, just kinda walked in,” Rose said, walking towards the counter, drawn in by the baker’s bright smile and twinkling chocolate-colored eyes.

“Ah, well there aren’t actually hours posted. I just unlock the door when I get here and close up when I’ve sold out or am ready to go.” He set the tray down and stuck his hands in the pockets of his brown pinstriped apron, still grinning like a loon. “I’m the Doctor, by the way.”

“Rose,” she answered, not able to resist smiling back. She could see the spray of freckles across his nose now that she was closer. It almost looked like he’d been dusted with cinnamon in addition to the wayward streak of flour.

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anonymous asked:

Hiya! I was wondering if you have any recommendations on any Johnlock Fanfics. I know I'll probably get murdered for saying this but I personally am not a big fan of fics that include smut. Plus I'm relatively new to this fandom so I'm not really sure where to start. Anyways I really enjoy your blog and you're really cool! Stay awesome my friend

It’s so hard to find non-explicit fics because I rarely read them. But here are some I could remember. Absolutely zero smut. I hope you enjoy. :D

  • A Quiet Murmuration by cathedral_carver : Just pay me back with one thousand kisses. (Teeth rotting fluff. You may die from fluff. One of my fav fics)
  • Let You Kiss Me (So Sweet and So Soft) by out_there The first time Sherlock kisses him, John keeps his eyes open, and so does Sherlock, and mostly, he wonders what Sherlock could possibly be up to. There’ll be some logic to this. Some ridiculous experiment about body warmth or respiratory rates or testing a new way of picking pockets. Sherlock does the unimaginable for bizarre reasons, but behind it, there’s always logic and curiosity. Sometimes, it just takes him a while to explain it to John. (Sweet af)
  • the lingering taste of orange juice by darcylindbergh Sherlock felt the familiar heat surge in his abdomen again at the touch: hope strung taut between head and heart as in all the quiet moments between them, when Sherlock sometimes got the clues all mixed up and thought maybe John felt something too.For once, Sherlock is the idiot. 
  • and stand there at the edge of my affection by coloredink  “You’ve written love letters,” Sherlock asserted. (Sherlock asks for John’ assistance to write a love letter)
  • Duvet (green) by Mazarin221b :  Sherlock recalibrates and restructures his mind palace so it looks like 221b. What he chooses to put in John’s room is a bit of a surprise, and a revelation. (Just read this )
  • Alone On the Water by Mad_Lori :  Sherlock Holmes never expected to live a long life, but he never imagined that it would end like this. (keep some fluffy fics handy before reading this one because after reading this your life will never be the same. Pure angst. Read the tags)
  • To Sleep Perchance to Smother Your Flatmate by Linpatootie : Sherlock wants to conduct a sleep study of sorts. John contemplates smothering him with a pillow. (1st in  4 part series “Two Coffees One Black One with Sugar Please” universe) 
  • The Love Song of Two Idiots by  SkipandDi (ladyflowdi) : The eighth time Sherlock proposed to John, it was on a Thursday afternoon in the middle of a Tesco. And like the seven times before, he got rejected. 
  • Last Call at the Homesick Pub  by Chryse : A fic taking place in the time of Sherlock’s “death” as he wanders around the world.Bittersweet.
  • For a thousand more by mysleepyhead (Shameless self promo) : This is the ending they deserve. The life they should have. The life we want for them.
  • April Sea  by ladydirewolf1 :  After Mary leaves John, Sherlock takes John to the place he spent his childhood summers. 

anonymous asked:

describe how each high school year by semester went for you

9th grade: We don’t call it a play date anymore, it is hanging out, hanging by our toes like wet lipped fruit bats, like jungle gym monkey kids. Young and swollen. Blood, immature blood, pink blood, fresh meat blood pepto bismol up the wazoo, and spit under my bed. Code names aren’t for spies, they’re for 14 year old girls with googley eyes, not that we needed them. Kevin and Grace, Ellie and Joshua, Paloma and Matt which is weird because I’m hot for him, and they kinda look like siblings. Pink shorts, black tights, Jimmy Eat World, pizza bagels and lucky charms under a fresh white linen morning like detergent sealed crust between my eyelids, you tore them open. I mean, not yet. But soon. I discover neon sex scenes, Sky Ferreira, and Skins and this is where the final hopscotch box stops; at the end of the subway platform. This is where I’m supposed to jump. Monkey balls fall on our heads as we walk home, and autumn leaves crunch like drum line snare beats. All godless girls with snakes and cherry lollipops and 9 millimeters pointed at our clits, Bend it Like Beckham under your itchy wool blankets, Alice’s mom thinks I’m cool, and I stay for dinner and crack some risky jokes like a fox among wolves. (I think he looks at me when I look away). Me and Hana FaceTime I take screenshots of her dancing with her cat. The girls who play soft ball in short shorts, the girls who call them sluts, the boys who watch. We dance through rainbows in the sprinklers on the way to the Homecoming dance and pretend we don’t care we don’t have dates. We’re floating in the cytoplasm, floating on the cotton candy overdose cause our parents drop us off at the bowling alley but we are too loyal to sneak out the back. We pool our money every Friday after school for the spring break road trip we’re going on when Hana gets a car, and one of us has lost our virginity, and none of us are scared of the dark.

Miss Budd yelled at me for not standing for the pledge of allegiance, and I was 4 years old again. My English teacher held me back, and held my hand, and gave me a safety pin for my missing button, and told me it would be. Okay.

10th grade: We were on the news that year. Cristo’s curls on KTLA, solemn, and not the boy cross eyed and high with his pants around his ankles. Suddenly we’re all standing up straight, suddenly we’re being told we can’t wear leggings because somebody posted a video of Penelope having sex with Max on Facebook. Suddenly we’re underground in the girls locker room (red varsity knee socks, Dina drowning the spider nests with Victoria’s Secret rose perfume, humid with shame and lesbian suspicion) holding our arms in front of our naked breasts, single file like ants for the syphilis test. The boys who drew penises in fire and salt on the soccer field grass, like druid frat boys, but not the boys who put gorilla glue in the classroom locks, and not the boys who wrote their hit list in the red pen on the back of Mr. Chan’s syllabus and ended up in court, who called in a bomb threat, just to get the test pushed back. We all took turns getting our ghosts exorcized in the principals office. It was pompeii and pandemonium, and nobody was safe, not even us girls sleeping wrapped in the dust of library encyclopedias. You moved away from me like I was illiciting the restless black dreams on your grandmas shitty air mattress. The sheets are clean enough, but this attic is haunted, you keep waking up in the middle of the night to your body sinking like a pirate ship caught by the Kraken, the floor gnawing at your bones again so you just. Got up. And slept somewhere else. My English teacher held me back, and told me I was a good writer but don’t be so angry, and I cried right there, and she gave me a kleenex from her Shakespeare tissue holder and I blew this stupid pain head first out of my nose. I never told you about that. Maybe if I had you would’ve felt bad for me and stayed a little longer. But you hung out with those buckwild kids under the spot by the willow tree, and it was easy. it was just snuffing out an annoyance. A mosquito licking the ruby of your earrings that you shooed away. Our birthstones were both rubies, you know, we were twin cancers with balmy skin and busted appendixes, the aliens took you once and the only explanation was a scar on your spine, and I reckon I should’ve known they’d come back for you.

(You are gonna tell your kids about these cherry cola years of golden suburbia, and midnight blue debauchery snapping teenage knees, and furrow your brow forgetting the name of the girl you spent the first two calling your best friend.) You cheered at football games. You got drunk with them at night, and you were bursting and missing teeth like a watermelon smile, you rubbed up against each other like cats they touched you in all the right places and you didn’t text me anymore. You went to sleepovers and posted photos on Instagram, I wasn’t invited, I thought this bullshit was supposed to stop happening in elementary school. All the things we thought would never happen, lockdown drills, fire drills, earthquake drills and we still weren’t prepared. It was. Pandemonium. It was. Chemical fires in Mr. Dow’s science class. And me and my plans were just. so fucking boring standing next to your cherry blossom hurricane. You didn’t wait for me after class anymore and I just. Looked so stupid trying to catch up. Blood, mature blood, cows blood in the manure for the roses to eat. Black blood, like storm sky, I dish out this milkshake I pick the scab and I lick the blood away. Thomas comes out and dubs himself the gay cliche, we walk home together on the yellow brick road, and we pray a tornado will land the school library on our corpses so we can die with those sparkly shoes on. Those ruby shoes on. The Fates gagged me with a pack of jolly ranchers. I got straight A’s while Rome was falling. Nobody has ever made me feel so small.

11th grade: New school. The kids talk different here. Depression in California is like getting a cold in mid-July. So ironic it’s almost insulting. I’m pretty sure it was raining all year, but don’t count on it, I lived sub-terrestrialy with my mothers tulip bulbs. Today’s Wednesday? I thought it was Friday? I thought yesterday was Sunday? Depression in California is like running after a rabbit in the woods. It doesn’t matter how sunny it is, you will suddenly look up and it’s night, and the trees are not your friends, even when they are as skinny and shaky as you. You will get stuck in the swamp, leave your shoes behind, and not even remember why you were out here in the first place.

Headache. Stomach ache. Lots of those, those are easy to fake. Menstrual cramps, vomiting, gut wrenching, kinda vomiting. A personal favorite. I got to get my hands dirty for that one, I got to reach for the gag reflex like a remote control and press fast forward and feel my arc capsizing, until the static buzzed and I was pale like southern gothic tragedy, I’m not bulimic I just don’t wanna go to school. Depression in California is like an abandoned zoo. Everything echoing animal shrieks. They set them free but the cages were empty long before that. I make some friends, nice ones who laugh at my jokes, and I feel like I should get a sticker for it, but I do more nervous shaking than laughing.

Depression in California is like a badly maintenanced carnival. We’ve gone around the ferris wheel 8 times now and nobody seems to notice. The cotton candy polluting my blood, running slow and globby while the kids below spin, the kids drop, the kids could die, but they just giggle hand in hand with smiling clowns who pump them full of teeth rotting sweets, the winking lights are blurry this far away, and it feels like eons before we’ll get back to the bottom. I’m out of tokens. I think I’m just gonna jump.  

12th grade: Trump won. I think I might like girls. My dad jokes about his own death so I know what it means to be angry now, like femurs forged from the goddamn ring of Isildur. Is this what’s normal now? Fucking boys who are oil slick and easy living, and lose my socks in their dorm rooms? Meet them for diner food and xans on the weekend, and everything just temporary? Is that just what everybody wants now? My brother got a green card marriage, but I guess he loves her for real now. We watch the Walking Dead until the streetlights glaze over our eyes, he asks me if I have a boyfriend, no. If I’ve had any since I last saw him, no. If no is my favorite word, yes. Thing is I’ve never been anyone’s girl cause I’ve got a volcano where I should have a stomach. I know what it is to live on the red planet. But I ignore all that and go to concerts that bleed beer and swoon for boys who drink the blood. I guess we’re used to falling off of things so we do it on purpose now. It’s not over but I know how it’s gonna end. Cracked skull, and police lights. And to the break of dawn on Brandon’s roof, boxers stained with mayonnaise, and Deadpool is probably his favorite movie or some dumb white boy shit like that. I’m not gonna cry when I leave for college, I’m gonna cry at the car rental watching the sun bleed out on the trees. I’m gonna cry in the knothole of an oak tree, hiding from the freshman mixer party in the woods I knew I shouldn’t have come to once the social anxiety starts clawing up soaked in the gallon of strawberry Crush I downed to calm myself down. You know, in some other parallel universe, my parents never divorced and we dispute where the sugar pantry should be at inopportune times, and I don’t straight jacket myself with the echoplex sound of my mother screaming over my dead body just to not inhale the chlorox under the sink. I was so bloody, I just wanted to be clean.

I thought it was like the 80’s, the rusty exhaust pipe of Matt’s car turning the snow black while he’s wasting time daydreaming of my piston pumping sloppy hips, and rumored things that happen in the backseat, and kicking cans in no particular direction, and first love sticky and first love stabbed into your kidney and you never really recover. I thought it was sixteen candles, and say anything, but it’s getting bloodshot squirrelly smoking hash in the disabled bathroom stall. It’s a personality disorder grown up from the ground like a mushroom that is poison to the touch, and thrown away birthday presents, and valentines day balloons stuck in the trees. It’s dropping the last slice of college acceptance celebration cake on the floor for your dogs breakfast, and cartoon rain puddles for eyes talking about how scary it is to drive on the freeway. Karina and Maddie rough housing like pit bulls in fifth period cause we don’t do shit in that class and pretending that we are not all gonna be strangers in 6 weeks before we. Before we. Please don’t make me say it out loud.

My English teacher held me back, and told me to make up the quiz I missed, and that was the only time I will ever be happy that some strangers just stay that way. And Daddy, I will miss you when you leave me, and Daddy I will meet you in the next life you just gotta wait for me ok?

I am not the kind of girl people have crushes on. I am the kind of girl who can survive 18 stealing food from parties, couch surfing, living like a lightning bolt. There one minute, and gone the next.

An ache in my lungs. The rotting infatuation behind my teeth.
Sweet decay.
The loss of love at the base of my heart.

Love is fickle love is non existent in this life I live.
My knees tremble for it I
arch my neck and sigh for it.
I wish and long and scream behind sealed lips.

My hand is empty, too small without another to warm it.
I used to cup my palms around my own soul, a purple white flame that flickered and burnt those too weak to remove it from my grip
now it burns in my chest, alongside the ice in my veins the
cold behind my eyes. No, not the heat of tears but just a heaviness of longing. A glacier in my mouth.
A fire in my breast.

She dances away with another, with others, dragging me in her wake.
She places her hands on my shoulders and pushes me into myself, into vibrant darkness that sparks with
My skin crawls, writhes, aches for more than this. I flinch away because if I do not my traitorous heart would take control and force me closer

Can she not feel the searing heat in my breath, in my skin as she holds me, a hand on my wrist
my leg
my thigh
my stomach
my spine. The forest fire in my lungs.
She touches and taps and breathes against me.

All while keeping me at arms length.

She’s smiling, laughing, twines her hands through my hair, drags nails down the column of my neck, my throat, chills erupting and giving me away
I bare it for her willingly, my weakness flayed wide open.
She holds my ribs in her hands my heart strings between her teeth.

Oh I would do anything for her, let her do anything just to remain in the embrace of her laughter, the thrill of her entire being. Even if I am never able to touch or hold
Or embrace her

I suffer silently. Heavily.

This love is going to burn me up, if this longing doesn’t freeze me first.

anonymous asked:

can you do a one shot of someone attempting to manipulate dark and winning?

(I don’t know if this is what you had in mind, but this is what came to my mind when I saw your ask!)

“Hello, Host,” Dark whispers sweetly. It’s always sweetness with him, the Host thinks, like he’s trying to rot your teeth out verbally. “It’s so nice to have you in my humble office again. What brings you by?”

The Host sits awkwardly in the leather chair across from Dark’s desk. He can smell cinnamon and apples, Dark’s favorite kind of candle, oddly enough, and it messes with his perceptions of the room. “I wanted to talk to you about Amy, Dark. I want you to leave her alone.”

Dark has the audacity to look amused, like the Host is a little child asking for a piece of candy. That’s all the Host is to Dark, a naïve little child. “Please, Dark. She’s not a threat to you. She’s just a nice girl mixed up with us because she cares.” He let the tears he cannot cry show through in his voice.

The gray Ego laces his fingers together slowly. “Host, am I mistaken or are you trying to tell me how to run this organization? Everything I do is for the best. Are you really questioning my actions?” Dark’s form jerks out of position in a spasm of anger before returning abruptly to normal.

The Host sighs within himself. He had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this. “Darkiplier feels his muscles go stiff against his control. He is unable to move without the Host’s consent.” Dark stiffens visibly, and his eyes alight with surprise. “Yes,” Host hums, “Dark did not know that the Host possessed this power, but that is because the Host let Dark assume that he was weak.”

Host stands and strides over to Dark’s side of the desk, opens a drawer, and pulls out Dark’s gun. “But the Host is done trying to keep his superior away from Miss Amy, so he is forced to take action.” The Host presses the cold metal of the gun into Dark’s temple and sighs. “But the Host doesn’t like to kill. It doesn’t please him, so he is going to give Dark one more chance.”

The Host leans down and whispers into Dark’s ear. “Leave Amy Nelson alone.”

Coffee - Pietro Maximoff

Originally posted by wintersoulja

Request: If it’s not too much to ask, could I please request something from Marvel? Specifically between Pietro Maximoff and the reader? Would be nice if it was so sweet and fluffy that it makes your teeth rot… Thank you so much and I love your writing! Keep up the awesome work and I hope you have a lovely day! 😊 ((Anon))

Warnings: None? Fluff, lots of it. And very tooth-rotting as requested. 

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x fem!reader (if you wanted a different gender please specify)

A/n: I love it when people request my little blue speed baby.



“He only picks on you because he likes you.” Were the wise words of a slightly disheveled I-haven’t-had-my-coffee-yet Wanda Maximoff after a very not disheveled Pietro Maximoff stole your coffee mug from your hands for the second time that morning.

“Yeah well I’m gonna throw hot coffee in his face and see how he likes that.” This time you kept your cup held close to your chest.

“What was that rule about not seriously maiming people in my compound?” Tony says from the doorway, his own cup of coffee in his hands. Was everyone here a coffee addict?

“‘I will not seriously injure any personnel on Tony’s property.’” You repeat the rule like it’s seared into your brain. After the second time you beat up someone Tony made a rule for you.

“Exactly.” Tony says, jumping slightly when Pietro zooms back into the room.

“No!” You shout as your coffee mug is ripped from your hands again.

Pietro leans against the counter and takes a sip of it. Like a cool kid would. Except you knew he was a dork.

“I may be tired but I can still kick your ass-” You take a step forward but then your mug is back in your hands. There’s a sticky note stuck to it.


“I’m going to punch him.” You don’t crumble the sticker note however, you put it your pocket. You’d never tell anyone, but there was a secret stash of all the sticky notes he put on things around you in your room.

“I will not harm personnel on Tony’s property.” Tony says behind you. You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee.

“I wanna punch him.” You rephrase. Tony nods approvingly.

“That’s better. Onto a better subject, you ladies have anything to do today?” Wanda shrugs in reply to Tony’s question as you take another sip of coffee.

“Cleaning. Laundry. Boring things.” You shrug, tipping the rest of the coffee into the sink and placing it in the dishwasher.

“Look at you adulting.” Tony says with a smile to which you roll your eyes again.

“I am an adult.” You say as you leave the kitchen, walking back towards your room. The door hung open a little bit, which was not how you left it.

When you opened it you found your room completely clean with a very smug looking Pietro Maximoff sitting on the bed holding the shoe box that contained all the sticky notes he’d given you over the year you’d known him.

“Give that to me.” You hold out your hand, trying not to look as flustered as you were that someone had found your secret stash of stupid sticky notes that made you smile.

“It’s cute. You saved all of my notes.” You were actually going to hit him.

“Give that to me before I punch you in the nose.” You walk forward, hand outstretched. He shakes his head with a smile but give you the box.

“It’s adorable.” Pietro says. “You, keeping all of my notes. Wanda thought you liked me, this proves her right.”

“Why were you in my room?” You ask, placing the box on your desk and crossing your arms with an anger look on your face.

“I was returning all the mugs I ‘stole’ from you.” He motions to your bed and you realize that every mug he ever stole was laying, completely clean, on your bed. That was nice of him, you thought, I’m starting to run out of mugs.

“Thank you.” You say, but your still hurt about him finding your shoebox of sticky notes.

“You’re welcome.” He replies and he sounds sincere. He’s not joking. “-And I really do think it’s cute, that you kept all my notes, I wasn’t joking about that.”

“You weren’t?” You ask, arms dropping along with your anger levels.

“No. I like it- I like you.” You blush as he finishes talking, looking away from him and smiling. You see him, from the corner of your eye, smile at you.

“Let me take you out-” Pietro says, still smiling. “-to dinner.”

“Yes.” You say, a bit too eagerly, making the both of you laugh. “I mean- sure. I’ll go out with you.”

fluffy starter pack #1 !!

NOTE; these are NOT from specific shows, books, etc. DO NOT ask references. there are from MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT.

there’s no such thing as too many pillows.
“ i’ll buy you some ice cream, okay?
“ hug me!! ”
did someone say movie night? ”
“ your teeth are gonna rot with all those gummies. ”
you’re softer than the bed.
surprise tickle fight!!
win me a bear. 
you’re such a weenie.
“ i want some food. ”
“ don’t go to work today…
i need blankets!!
“ i heard cookiesand i was intrigued. ”
“ wanna make a cake
“ i don’t like the lightning… ”
“ c’mon, let’s go for dinner. ”
“ i bought the wrong bag of chips, didn’t i?
is the helium working?
“ aww, you’re so sweet.
cuddle meeeeee… ”
do you need some bandages for your cut?
the carnival’s in town!! 
i love you. never forget that. 

“Now darlin’, before we go in there I gotta explain a few things.” Leonard was kneeling in front of his daughter, preparing her to meet his two dearest friends. Not that he was about to say that out loud. To anyone. Ever.

The San Francisco streets were bustling with activity on the busy Friday afternoon. The Enterprise was docked for its annual repairs for the following week, freeing up the officers for a good long shore leave. It had taken every trick in the book to persuade Jocelyn to put Joanna on a plane and spend the vacation with her father. Fortunately, Jim had gotten a place in the city a while back, so they had a place to stay. And it was in front of that very apartment that Leonard and Joanna were having this conference.

“The blonde one is an idiot. He acts smart, but don’t be fooled. If he could, he’d feed you cookies for breakfast and cake for dinner. He’ll make a great playmate for you, but he’s a piss poor excuse for an adult. Between you and him, you’re the mature one. You remember that. Out there he’s in charge, but while we’re here you still follow daddy’s rules, you got that?” When Joanna giggles it melts Leonard’s heart into a molten pool of endless affection. She nods and holds out a pinky in a silent promise. “That’s good. That’s my good girl.” He can’t help but pause to brush her long brunette hair back over her ears.

“Now the tall sickly lookin’ one, his ears are not for pullin’ on, so you keep those pretty little hands to yourself. I know you’re not used to seein’ all of these different kinds of aliens back home, but he’s not that different from us. He takes everything literally so he might not understand what you mean sometimes, and that’s okay. Chances are he’ll question every move you make, but he’s a very logical kind of guy so you’ll just have to let him. Oh, one more thing. He doesn’t like to be touched so you make sure you steer clear of his hands. You got all that, Firefly?” Leonard beams with pride when his little girl nods.

“Yes daddy, I got it. I ain’t a baby anymore, I can play nice with the big boys.” How she can look sweet and positively mischievous at the same time is beyond Leonard. Must have gotten that from Jocelyn.  

Leonard knocks on the door as he shuffles the duffel bags on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. Jim answers it and he is radiating excitement and warmth. He sinks down to his knees to address Joanna face to face. “Hey there Jojo! Come on in, kiddo. Your daddy has been telling us all about you. We were so eager to meet you.”

The small girl sidles past Jim and ambles into the middle of the living room. “Couple things,” she starts, and Leonard knows the poor guy is about to get reamed by a six year old. “I ain’t no kid. I’m a big girl! I’ll have you know I’m in the first grade! And only my parents can call me Jojo. You call me Joanna.”

“I see the resemblance,” Spock comments from his spot on the couch. He’s grinning with his eyes, loving the way the tiny human just put the high and mighty fully grown Starship captain in his place. “Quite the first impression, Jim.”

Leonard is outright cackling in the doorway. Whatever words he’s trying to get out dies on his lips with the force of his laughter.

Joanna sets her sights on Spock and walks over to him with her small hands clasped behind her back and wonder in her eyes. She has never seen a Vulcan before. “I like your ears. Oh my gosh, are you a fairy?!“ The girl bounces on the balls of her feet, her tiny body barely able to contain her excitement. 

Spock raises a curious brow and considers the comparison. “I suppose my race does bear a striking resemblance to your mythical Terran creatures. However, your assumption is incorrect. I am a Vulcan.” Leonard isn’t sure what surprises him more; that Spock agreed to the assessment or that his daughter has taken an immediate liking to the guy that makes his blood boil. Jim must be having a similar inner monologue because he’s downright gaping at the pair.

Joanna’s smile lights up the room. She hauls herself right up onto Spock’s lap and he looks like he’s about ready to piss himself at the contact. Leonard breaks into another fit of laughter. “Don’t look so petrified, Hobgoblin.”

“Yeah, daddy already said I’m not s’posed to touch. I’ll be good,” she promises, folding her hands in her lap as a sign of good will. Spock relaxes slightly and tries to ignore the way Jim is glaring at him for stealing his thunder. “Uncle Spock, will you tell me a story about your planet? What are Vulcans like? Do you know any real life fairies?”  

“Very well. I suppose I—“

Jim interjects before Spock can even get started. “Hey Joanna, I picked up some local sweets for you to try. I thought you might like some goodies after the long shuttle over here. You’ve got to try the donuts here! What do you say to sharing some with me?” Leonard is welling up with pride and love for his little girl as she frowns, looking just like him.

“No thank you. Sweets rot your teeth and daddy says I need to take care of my pretty smile.” Jim drops his shoulders and huffs in defeat. Joanna turns away from him and looks up at Spock with interest, encouraging him to continue. He starts off on a long winded explanation of arbitrary things like his pet sehlat, Vulcan schooling, and his mother’s cooking.

Leonard edges up to Jim’s side and slaps a hand on his shoulder, making him frown impossibly harder. “You tried, Jimboy. Who’d’ve guessed she’d like Spock more than you? I don’t much understand it either.“ He sighs mournfully and shakes his head.  "Why don’t you make yourself useful and come help me unpack this stuff? Unless you’d rather sit here and listen to the hobgoblin drone on.”

Jim concedes and grabs the bags, carrying them down the guest room at the end of the hallway. They take their time unpacking their clothes and belongings. When the pair return to the living room, Joanna is resting heavily on Spock’s chest. The soothing sound of his voice lulled her right to sleep.

Spock is looking down at her with an expression akin to affection. When Leonard makes a move to pick her up, Spock stops him. “It is quite all right. She has an affinity for my higher body temperature. I assure you, she is rather comfortable. There is a high probability that she will wake if moved.” Leonard finds he can’t argue with that logic. And they do make a rather cute pair. 

The child looks so small on Spock’s lap, set against broad shoulders and muscle. She shifts slightly and curls up comfortably against Spock’s stomach. Leonard almost can’t believe his own eyes when he watches Spock drop a hand to sift through her long hair. The proud dad smiles fondly. 

And while this heartwarming bonding moment unfolds, Jim is watching them from the hallway, slowly being consumed by jealousy.  

Whispered Love

Wade Wilson x Reader
Warnings: Smut, ahoy! But no, this is literally all smut. Like ALL.
Words: 1,888
Request: Hi! I was just wondering if you could do a Deadpool x Reader smut? And the reader is really shy and nervous because it’s her first time. Also maybe Wade gets a little insecure because of how he looks, and the fact that the reader hasn’t seen him much without his mask? I’m sorry if this is too much. Thank you!
A/N: This is so sweet it’ll rot your teeth out. What can I say? I’m always a slut for Deadpool. And this was good practice for smut. And let’s face it, this is just smut. There isn’t a plot whatsoever, just sweet, sweet smut!

(I can’t add a gif because I’m on my phone. 😭)

You were shaking under his soft touches, whether from nerves or pleasure, you weren’t entirely sure. His lips were moving against yours so softly, his tongue exploring your mouth with excited curiosity. As his his lips left yours, you waited a painful moment like he always made you.
“Wade…” You began softly, wishing more than anything that he’d let you see. Why doesn’t he get that you love him? You didn’t care what he looked like, you wanted to assure him. Your heart clenched in your chest at the thought of him being ashamed of how he looked.
“You can open your eyes,” he said. Your eyes looked into his, pain shining in the beautiful orbs.
“Wade, please.” You begged. You wanted him to know you loved him, that no matter what you always would love him. He kept uncharastically quiet, his gaze down at his depreciating thoughts.
“You wouldn’t want to see.” His voice was gravelly, his tone the one of a man who had seen too much rejection and loss in his time. Your heart reached out for him, your arm doing the same.
“Nothing will change how I feel.” You promised confidently, your eyes pleading with him. He sighed heavily, his head turning towards you.
“Just please don’t,” he paused his eyes tearing at his words, “don’t scream.” He opened his mouth to speak again, closing it as if in defeat. He slowly peeled back the red mask, revealing inch by scarred inch. The skin was marred with various scars, each one making your heart ache more. Sure, it was bad, but you would never go so far to think it was disgusting. In fact, it made him all the more beautiful in your eyes. The look in his eyes had you reaching out a hand to him. He flinched away, as if he was expecting you to hurt him. Your heart shattered in that moment, your hands holding his head firmly in place. “I’m so sorry.” His words were slurred through the repressed tears, his heart breaking in his eyes. “I should’ve never let yo-,” his breathing hitched at the feather of a kiss on his rough cheek.
“You’re beautiful, Wade.” You whispered, placing another kiss on his scarred forehead.
“W-what?” He asked, shocked at your words.
“Look at me,” you said, pulling back from his face. His eyes met yours a hesitant hopefulness shining in his bright orbs. “I love you, Wade Wilson, and I will always love you.” You could almost hear his heart singing, the most beautiful smile you’d ever laid eyes on bloomed across his face. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, his hot tears mixing with the chaste kisses.
“I love you, (Y/N).” He never thought he’d said a truer statement than that, his arms pulling you closer to his body. Even with you in his lap it wasn’t enough, he needed to be closer, needed you to see his heart and understand how much he loved you. “Can I make love to you?” He asked timidly, taking you by surprise. He was usually a little more bold, and he never usually asked before he did any sort of affectionate act. A strange sensation of nerves and arousal swirled in your stomach, an uncomfortable smile etched on your face. His smile faded to a frown, acceptance of your denial shining in his eyes.
“Wade,” you tried. He shrugged you off, reaching for his mask.
“It’s okay, I understand.” His voice croaked, a few heavy tears falling from his eyes. Just as he was about to slip the mask on, you whimpered, causing his movements to stop.
“Baby, no.” You cried, a salty tear rolling down your cheek. He looked at you once again, a soft bit of hopefulness present. “I’ve never…” You sighed, trying again. “I’ve never been with someone… This way.” Realization dawned on his face as he threw the mask to the side, a hint of adoration in his gaze.
“I’ll teach you,” he vowed, pulling you closer to his heated skin. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his gentle hands lying you on the bed. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised, his hands moving up the soft expanse of your belly. You nodded, the nerves causing you to tense. He placed a barely-there kiss on your stomach, pushing your shirt further up. Arousal pooled low in your belly, your clothing scratching your unnaturally heated skin in all the wrong ways, making you want to tear it off. He lifted you off the bed, tugging your shirt over your head, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he threw it behind you. He gave you a reassuring smile as he pushed your shoulders back towards the bed. You swallowed nervously, not entirely sure what to expect as he peeled his own shirt off his body. Sure, you know the basics of how it works, but what if you were bad? What if he decided he didn’t want you? What if you weren’t visually pleasing to him? What if- “Don’t overthink it, (Y/N).” Wade was above you once again, moving your legs apart slightly so he could rest in between them. Seeing you still had a nervous look, he kissed the swell of your breast, stopping where your lacy bra began. His hands moved to your back, holding the clasp as he looked to you for permission. He smiled reassuringly, scrapping the garment to the side. As soon as your chest was bare, you made a move to cover up, Wade’s hands interrupting your movements. “You’re gorgeous,” his breath ghosted over your breasts, your nipples hardening in arousal. Your nervousness began to ebb away, being replaced with sweet love and blinding desire as Wade lowered his lips to a nipple, sucking lightly. You bit your lip to interrupt your pleasure moan, your entire body tensing. His lips pulled away, prompting a muffled whimper from you, already missing the warmth. “Don’t hold back, let me hear you.” His eyes were darkened with lust, his lips wet from licking them. You nodded, letting out a long, guttural moan when he placed his lips upon your body again. You could feel him smile against your skin, the heat of love in every touch. You needed him.
“W-Wade,” you breathed. “I, uh, I n-ne-ed you.” His smile was soft as he gently popped upon the button of your jeans, your body moving up towards him in search of sweet friction. He chuckled, holding your hips down with a spread hand as he pulled your jeans down, inch by agonizing inch. It was taking an eternity, your arousal increasing with each kiss he lay down your legs. You were panting by the time your thudded to the floor, the wetness in your panties so uncomfortable. He stepped away from you, taking time to pull the rest of his clothes off. You rested on your elbows, watching him strip like it was your own personal show. You felt almost silly, panting and naked, save for your panties, in your bed. Your feelings all but disappeared as you stated at his bare body, him shifting uncomfortably under your scrutiny.
“Uh, okay?” He asked you in an almost sarcastic voice, his insecurities present in his eyes.
“Amazing,” you gasped, your eyes raking down every inch of his unique body, taking note of every part. You gulped, looking at his hardened member, chewing your lip at the thought of him inside of you. He seemed to notice, a smirk lighting his features as he crawled toward you, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. With a long kiss to your belly, he dragged down the last article of clothing covering your body, a stab of arousal flaring up at the feel of his fingers so, so close to the one place you needed him. You’d never needed something more than him in that moment, your body, mind, and heart all screaming out for him. He placed small, meaningful kisses all the way back up to your lips, meeting in a chaste touch before pulling back. His eyes were pleading for permission, his hands digging into the mattress behind you with restraint, his straining erection pressing against your wet folds, prompting you to moan. You nodded, your head thrown back on the mattress. His lips lowered to your exposed neck, leaving wet kisses as he slowly pushed into your heat, your body shaking in pain and pleasure. It hurt, yet it still felt so good. He groaned, stopping once he was fully sheathed inside you, his entire body tensing as he waited for you to give him the go ahead. You exhaled shakily, your entire body burning.
“(Y/N)?” He asked, his voice husky with desire and restraint.
“Go,” you whimpered, your body protesting the pain but the overpowering arousal begging for release. He pulled out slowly, his length moving so perfectly inside of you as he began thrusting gently. A cacophony of noises were torn from your throat, mixing with his own sounds of pleasure. You were repeating his name, your hands kneading the flesh on his back as he kissed you softly, his body moving in perfect harmony with your own. You could feel the tightening in your stomach, the waves of pleasure rolling over your sweaty body heightening. Wade seemed to notice, lifting your thigh so he could reach impossibly deep into your velvety slickness, his tongue moving in time with his thrusts. Each thrust brought you closer to satisfying your need, your love for him growing. He was having trouble keeping his movements gentle, sweat rolling down his forehead from his efforts. You nipped at his bottom lip, pulling him ever closer to you as one of his fingers snaked in between the two of you, circling over your throbbing clit. You cried out, your body so, so close to letting go.
“Let go for me, sweetheart,” Wade’s sweet voice rolling over your body, pushing you over.
“Wade!” You wailed, your body convulsing in love and pleasure. The sky was falling, your entire world minimized down to the feel of Wade inside and around you. Your heart was squeezing in your chest, your body clenching around Wade’s. He pushed in and out one more time, a growl of, “(Y/N)” being torn from his throat as he reached his release, his entire body singing for you. His wet seed mixed with your own desires, warming your insides. He laid his head softly on your shoulder, his sweaty body barely able to stay above your own. He caught his breath, rolling to your side once he found the energy. He wrapped an arm around you middle, pulling your head onto his bare, shining chest. Your legs were intertwined, your ears listening to his heart as it slowed back to its normal speed. “I love you,” he whispered, a feather of a kiss on your forehead, his hands ghosting along you naked back.
“And I love you,” you replied, your voice just as soft as his. Your heart thrummed evenly in your chest, your lips glossy from his kisses, your hair knotted from his hands. You were never so sure of anything in your life than you were in this moment. You loved him.

I’m beginning to think only, like, 70% of the reason I love Shidge is because they’re my two favs and they would be so so sweet together it would rot your teeth. The other 30% is just spite. Pure “Fuck you, I do what I want” spite that rose from the ashes of people denouncing Shidge after the age reveal last year. Honestly I think that fits both Shiro and Pidge pretty well and I believe that it’s a beautiful shipper origin story.

I Saw Mommy Kissin’ Santa Claus

Bucky Barnes x Single Mother Reader

Plot: When your son finds out the truth about Santa, you’re worried the magic of Christmas has been ruined. Bucky takes it in his hands to amend this.

Warnings: CHRISTMAS FLUFFF so sweet it’ll make your teeth rot, Children are assholes, but Buck is a doll💕, language (because it’s me, obviously), I guess like .2 seconds of angst? pietro x reader that you’ll miss if you blink

A/N: This really got away from me. I hope it makes up for the heart-wrenching angst from yesterday lol Dad!Bucky is the best Bucky and StepDad!Bucky makes my heart melt!  Piet is Pietro’s kid (obviously) cuz Reader apparently has got it bad for blue-eyed bad boys (I blame you, @sergeantjamesbarnes107th )  If you don’t like Pietro, just pretend it isn’t him lol (GIFS are not mine, they’re never mine lol)

Originally posted by onlylolgifs

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

“Children are assholes.” You announce as you walk into the compound common room, cradling your little boy in your arms.  When you’re greeted by looks of pure confusion, you elaborate.  “Who the hell tells a six-year-old that Santa isn’t real?  Just who is that evil?”  You hiss as you feel Piet slump against your shoulder, a tale-tell sign that all his wailing has worn him out.  When his breathing evened out, you hand Wada her sleeping nephew.  You set up a makeshift bed for him on the couch before setting him against the pillows and blankets.  “Carl.  Carl Evans is that evil.”  You grunt.

“Y/N? You’ve lost me.  Who is Carl Evans?”  Steve asks after pausing the movie everyone had been watching before you had been paged by the daycare downstairs.

“Some ten-year-old twerp who thought it would be a good idea to tell my angel that Santa isn’t real.  He’s been crying for the better part of an hour.”  You sighed, brushing some hair out of your boy’s face.  “Christmas is always hard enough as it is, he’s the only kid in the daycare who doesn’t have two parents.  I’ve been doing this alone since his father died, but now it’s been completely ruined.”

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Innocence Within (Part I)

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt #59: Lighthearted Canon-Divergent, Snow’s Hijacking backfires, reverting Peeta to a childlike state, where he pulls on Katniss’ braids, and draws her pictures to let her know that he Likes-Likes her. by @elaine-spades.

Rated: Hard T for mature themes

Tags: AU, In Panem Canon Divergent, Botched Hijacking, Fluff and Angst, Memory Loss, Mention of Torture, PTSD, Grief, etc.

Word Count: approx. 9200 for this part. Fic will be continued on AO3 and possibly on

Summary: “It hits me immediately, Haymitch and I are the only family Peeta has now, whatever is wrong with him, it’ll be up to us to deal with.” Peeta has been rescued from the Capitol, Katniss will do her best to help The Boy with Bread come back to her.

Author’s note: The prompt requests the story to be lighthearted, but the more I dip my toes in the story, the theme of losing ones mind is actually more heartbreaking, but I can try for Fluffy and sweet until it rots your teeth. This scenario turns out to be bittersweet once the story starts developing. I hope I can do justice to the prompt since it’s a very good one, and I thank Elaine-spades for it. This story was betaed by the very insightful @kleeklutch, who did some very necessary trimming and crossed out my t’s beautifully, thank you dear, your input is much appreciated. I used lyrics to ‘Down in The Valley’ a popular Appalachian Mountain Air, no author that I could specifically find for, the lyrics vary by singer as this kind of folk songs do. Although we have no way of knowing if this is the specific song SC referred to by ‘The Valley song’ it’s pretty fitting.  

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Adrinette Month Day Twenty-Five

I have a short one-shot for today’s prompt of ‘Double Date’. I probably would’ve drawn something, buuut… /stares at wedding dresses

I’m facing that down in two days. Save me from the lace.

Rating: K+
Genre: Fluff
Pairing(s): Adrinette with DJ Wifi accompaniment
Summary: It’s a Double Date. Or could it be more? (Aged-Up)
Warning: No warnings… unless Alya has to have her own warning. Maybe? Yes. 

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Venom Words

Title: Venom Words
Pairing: Kurt Wagner/You (romantic)
Character(s): Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler and you!
Plot: On a Halloween moonlit night, dare you let a stranger in.
Warnings: mild language
Words: 1120

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Don’t You Forget about me

Dean and the reader go to South Dakota to see Jody and help Claire with her so called hunt the reader shares something very interesting

Dean and Reader, Sam, Jody, Claire, Alex 

Warnings: Fluff (seriously guys, teeth rotting sweetness) 

@supernatural-jackles @not-moose-one-shots @5minutefanfiction @smacklesandstretch67 @bringmesomepie56 @sanityoverrated27 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deanscolette @jensen-jarpad @27bmm @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @luci-in-trenchcoats @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala @nichelle-my-belle @not-moose-squad @notnaturalanahi 

Originally posted by superwhomerlinandholmes

           Dean and I hadn’t been together long, but we already knew we were soulmates. I hadn’t been feeling well and when Dean brought home that Elvis burger it just made me sicker yet. Dean had gotten a call from Claire so we decided to book it to South Dakota. Dean kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to go with my current situation. “Babe I’m fine” I kissed him on the cheek and got in the back seat.

           I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew we were stopped getting gas and getting food. I knew why I wasn’t feeling well but I couldn’t tell him, not yet. I grabbed a caffeine free coke and some funyons. I was trying to get the nerve to tell Dean but I didn’t want him to freak. I was about six weeks along from what the tests showed, I had a doctor appointment in a few days to check on the baby.

           “Dean? Can we talk?” He turned his head and you could see the worry on his face. I grabbed his hand and led him over the picnic tables. “What’s wrong?” I started tearing up and I tried to talk but instead I go into a panic attack. I finally got the courage and grabbed his hand and put it against my stomach. I had a slight bump, I watched his face as it went through different emotions.

           It finally settled into a huge smile and teary eyes. “Really?” “Yeah I’m about six weeks and I was petrified with how you were going to react” I started tearing up again and he just cupped my face and kissed away every worry I ever had. “I’m so happy right now! Knowing we are going to be parents is amazing”.

           We got back into baby and Dean insisted I sit up front, Sam looked at me confused and I winked. As soon we started on the road again, “I think Uncle Sammy has a nice ring to it! How about you babe?” “What about Uncle Moose?” Sam immediately jumped in asking the million-dollar question. “Are you pregnant?” I slowly nodded and Sam had this amazing smile and kept repeating “uncle sam” under his breath.

           We finally got to Jody’s and I could smell the food, it smelled so good but my stomach was also rebelling against me. We all sat down and enjoyed dinner, the girls were arguing as usual when it went into unprotected sex. I choked on my food when she brought up condoms knowing that I was pregnant because of a heat of the moment situation.

           “Y/n? Your backing me up, right?” “Well y/n and I have some good news” I looked over at Dean and he winked. “We’re having a baby”. The room went silent looking at us, watching us. Jody looked like she was about to cry, getting up she walked over and hugged me tightly. “I’m so happy for you guys” The rest of the night was happy and excitement.

           When we settled in for the night Dean had big spooned me always having his hands on my stomach. He was so happy and content, so ready for the next steps of our lives.

10 years, today

It was a decade ago. A woman I’d never met but had instantly liked on reading her words (Hi, Libby! It breaks my heart your LJ is deleted) posted 20 Random Facts About Scorpius Malfoy and said she wished someone would write a fic about them. Naively, I did, thinking that it would be a thing we shared and that made her smile. Over half a million words (not all in this story, mind), many friends, and much silliness later, today is the day I wrote about in Sins of the Fathers!

Happy first day at Hogwarts, lads. Sorry about everything I got wrong, but we weren’t to know back then! What a path it sent me down…

He meets Al on the Hogwarts Express.

The small, black-haired boy barrels into his compartment and declares: “You’re Scorpius Malfoy!

Scorpius agrees that he is.

"We need to be friends, or it will look stupid,” the boy continues. “And my big brother will think he knows everything, when really he’s not that smart.”

Scorpius nods slowly. “OK,” he begins. “Except I’m not sure who you are.”

“I’m Albus Potter,” the new boy puts out his hand, which Scorpius shakes politely. “Albus Severus Potter.”

Scorpius blinks slowly. “We have the same middle name,” he announces.

Al drops into the seat beside him. “Oh, well then we have to be friends,” he declares.

“I suppose we do,” Scorpius smiles back. “Do you like Quidditch?”

“Oh yeah! My Aunty knows Victor Krum! And I’ve met him, and he was really nice.” The record-holding player has recently signed a contract to coach the English team after a disastrous English World Cup outing, his name is like gold, and even works on Scorpius.

“Is he tall?”

“No, but he’s really strong. And he’s really fast.” Albus stops himself before launching into his Short Essay on the Virtues of Krum, there’ll be time for that later. “Do you know what house you want to be Sorted into?” he asks.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Scorpius lies. “What about you?”

“If it’s not Gryffindor, I may die,” Al declares with feeling.

“I hope it’s Gryffindor, then, I don’t have any other friends.” Scorpius is gratified when he makes Al laugh.

“Chocolate frog? I got a stack from my Dad, he says the trolley takes ages to get through the train.” Albus offers a handful of the brightly wrapped sweets and Scorpius takes one.

“Thanks, I love these, but Mum says they’ll rot my teeth.”

“My Mum says everything good is bad for you. She doesn’t like me reading comics or watching scary movies, but Dad doesn’t mind.”

Scorpius is entranced. “Your Dad lets you watch movies?”

Albus smiles, he realises that is a winning shot. “Oh yeah, we go to the cinema all the time. And we have a computer that you can just watch TV and things on.” And he knows this is a risk, for while the Ministry is more relaxed about wizards and Muggle technology these days, it is still not the done thing.

Scorpius leans close to him and whispers. “We have a projector and some days my Dad closes all the curtains and we watch old films. I like the Sherlock Holmes ones, with Basil Rathbone. Have you seen them?”

Albus has not. “Have you seen football?”

Scorpius has not. For a moment this stops conversation. Albus restarts it. “I could watch movies with you at your house in the hols, maybe, and you could watch football at my house. It’s really good, it’s like Quidditch without brooms but with really angry men with whistles.”

“In the hols.”

“Yeah, cos you have your friends over for hols, right?”

Scorpius is smiling. “Right.”