never again will he be able to cup her cheek or cradle the back of her head

Happy Beginning

Damn this show and how it’s invaded my feelings.  Crying over my cereal this morning.  Sigh.

A morning drabble cause when it hurts, I write.  A little bit of fluffy sexy times for our Captain Swan.

Originally posted by captainswansource

He wakes to the dip of the bed beneath him, sunshine bright against his closed eyelids.  Giving a groan, he rolls and opens his eyes to find an angel sitting beside him.  She smiles, reaching out to lace her fingers with his and he can’t help but lift her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss above the set of rings she now wears.

Wife…she’s his wife and the memory of her in white, walking toward him with a smile on her lips has him grinning from ear to ear.

“What?” she asks, blushing as he presses his smile to the beat of her pulse, trailing his nose after it before dropping their hands back to the bed.

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Resurgam: A Moriel Fic

Rating: E

Length: 9k

Summary:  Azriel returns from a mission after he’s been gone for a month and Mor is waiting for him, as always, to welcome him home.

Thanks to my dearest, @highfaelucien, for betaing! <3 


When Azriel winnows into their house for the first time in weeks, trying to mask how tired he is, how much the weight of his mission is pulling on him, it doesn’t take Mor two blinks to see right through him. She jumps up from the table, heart hammering suddenly in her chest with the relief flooding through her at seeing him in person for the first time in almost a month. It’s never pleasant, him having to leave like this, entirely alone for days, weeks, but it’s been… a particularly hard time.

Usually they can at least alternate when they’re gone so someone is always there, available for whatever the other needs. But Rhys had asked her to take a sudden trip to the Court of Nightmares and she’d panicked. She knows she doesn’t have to go. That if she told Rhys, he would send someone else, would go himself, but she goes anyway.

And it’s bad. It’s always been bad, difficult to deal with, shutting part of herself down like that, to crush part of the lightness in her at facing her family, her father. But it’s worse when her mate isn’t waiting for her back in Velaris. Or if he doesn’t go with her to the Court of Nightmares at all.

No one forces her to go. It’s her job. It’s not as if she doesn’t know it’s going to take something out of her the moment she steps through those great stone doors.  But usually Azriel is there to welcome her back when she’s done. She doesn’t have to hide with him, pretend like she’s okay with herself when she isn’t. He understands deeply enough that she doesn’t even have to say anything. Can winnow back and he’ll already have her favorite food prepared, have a bath drawn and waiting for her, still hot enough to steam up the tile walls in the bathing room.

But this time, she’d come home to an empty house, the ache of Azriel gone ringing hollow in her tight stomach. The darkness of being in that… that place piling on top of the uncertainty of having him gone in the first place?  The empty space beside her in that huge bed only has her curling in on herself more, hiding her pains when he’s gone like this.

And it had built, on and on over itself, as she’d tried to swallow it, to the point where she’d shoved it all aside. Had slapped on a polite smile and moved on, refusing to deal with it. She knows it’s not healthy. She can deal with one at a time. Can handle going to the Court of Nightmares as long as she has the reassurance that her mate is safe, that he’s not shoving down his own burdens. Can handle Azriel leaving if that means she knows she can be ready for him when he returns. Can be there, through the bond at a moment’s notice if he sends even just a sliver of a request.

So when she sees him standing there, brushing snow from his black hair, kicking off the bits clinging to his shoes, Mor barely registers the choked cry coming from her own mouth, can’t resist stumbling out of her chair, not even cognizant enough to think to winnow, practically throwing herself across the room and into him.

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potatoesareimportant  asked:

"you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital" nalu pleeeeasse

Natsu’s heart stutters to a stop as he nears the hospital room. His pulse roars in his ears, overwhelming, drowning out the sounds around him. Fingers graze the doorknob, but he hesitates, stomach twisting sickly at the thought of what he might find beyond the white walls. Natsu inhales sharply, imagining Lucy—bright, happy, smiling Lucy—lying on the other side, broken. Mouth going dry, Natsu swallows thickly. Teeth scrape along his lower lip, biting until the skin splits and he can taste blood on his tongue. His chest tightens, an invisible hand curling around his heart and squeezing.

When he answered the phone earlier he thought for sure his heart had been ripped clear through his rib cage, shattering bone and puncturing lungs. He simply couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel anything for the longest time, could barely hear himself think as the words kept echoing through his head.

He never liked the word accident, but not he thinks he might hate it.

It’s been three months and a handful of days since he last saw her, since they ended things. He thought he was over it, done, but maybe he’s just spent too long lying to himself. He’s always been good at that.

The door creaks as he pushes it open, squealing loudly before banging against the wall roughly, a thunderclap in an otherwise silent area. He should feel bad about the noise, given where he is, but Natsu simply can’t bring himself to care.

Inside the room a head snaps up, hazy, brown eyes locking with his, startled and confused. Wispy, wild hair tumbles over the girl’s shoulders, half-pulled away from her pretty face with a pair of clips to leave the bandage along her temple uncovered. Her eyes widen as she sees him, her lips parting just the slightest. She stares, unblinking, as if he’s a ghost—her ghost.

“Lucy,” he breathes, voice cracking, heart in his throat. He steps farther into the room, hands trembling at his sides as he takes her in: disheveled and exhausted, but still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Lucy,” he says again, suddenly able to breathe again.

Her lips tremble. “Natsu?” she croaks, voice thick and afraid, but her shoulders relax when she sees him, a light flickering in her eyes. “What are you—”

He crosses the room in two steps and she cuts off as he cups her face in his shaking hands, her skin clammy beneath his burning fingers. Natsu ducks down, crouching to meet her gaze, his thumbs brushing along her cheeks, wiping at stray tears and flecks of blood and dirt. Her own hand comes up to clutch at his wrist, her fingers freezing as she clings to him, nails biting into his skin. He only holds her tighter, searching her expression for any discomfort.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, swallowing thickly as she quivers. Blood dots the bandage on her temple, and the hand not caught in hers slides along her cheek briefly, his finger ghosting along the edge of the bandage. She flinches and he pulls back, palm pressed to her cheek. “What happened?” It comes out more demanding than intended, but if it startles Lucy she certainly doesn’t show it. He figures she’s put up with him for so long that she’s simply desensitized.

Her fingers curl tighter around his wrist, her free hand knotting in the bed sheets roughly. Her leg jiggles where it’s tossed over the edge of the mattress, her knee bumping against his briefly. A nervous tick, he knows.

Lucy tries to smile for him, but it comes out watery. Her lips tremble against the edge of his palm, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. God, but does she try to smile. “I’m fine,” she tells him softly, squeezing his hand slowly, “just a concussion.” His lips part, a protest on his tongue, but Lucy continues before he can ask what happened. “Natsu, what are you doing here?”

A lump builds in his throat when she says his name, his heart clenching. It sounds familiar on her tongue, sweet as honey and twice as thick. He hadn’t realized it was something he missed until just now. He hadn’t realized it was something he could miss.

His fingers stroke along her cheek and she leans into his hand. Her gaze is expectant, questioning, though not unfriendly. The last time they saw each other left them on bad terms, but they seem to be forgotten now. “They called me,” he murmurs, barely able to manage more than a breathy whisper as he stares down at her. “Emergency contact.”

Lucy is silent for a long moment, though she doesn’t protest as his fingers continue to peruse her cheeks, her jaw, the length of her neck, his thumbs barely brushing against her collarbone, just barely visible beneath her scarf. He thinks he should stop staring, touching her like he was scared to death of losing her, but he’s willing to admit that for a moment he felt the world beginning to crumble around him when he got that phone call.

Her lips brush along his palm, not quite touching and not quite kissing. “You shouldn’t be here,” she tells him, voice cracking. She quivers, fingers squeezing around his wrist, and Natsu slips a hand down to cradle the side of her neck, just below her jaw.

“Lucy,” he breathes, tilting her chin gently so that she meets his eyes. He wonders if she can see the raw, biting terror there, lingering just beneath the surface. Natsu swallows, wets his lips, then tilts his head down to rest his temple against hers, his arm sliding around her back and pulling her close, as if he could swallow her whole. Lucy makes a home against his rib cage, curling close to him, her own arms winding around his torso and holding him close. “I would be here even if they didn’t call me,” he whispers against her hair, the beating of his heart growing steady, echoing hers.

Lucy doesn’t ask why and he doesn’t explain, instead they stitch themselves together, hands curling though hair and arms consuming the other.

New York, New York

Originally posted by shawnskisses

Requested by anonymous: I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! Can you do one where shawn finished a concert, on his way to a plane to go to you and he get in a car accident. After months in coma he wakes up and your still there waiting for him even if a lot of people told you to move on?

Note: tears, just tears and it’s super long so prepare yourselves



This was not happening.

You were not going to let this happen.

Everyone was silent.

And then you lost it.

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anonymous asked:

jerejean in the rain?

you come… my house….ask for rain and jerejean………….when u know FULL WELL they live in drought city, U S A … and my weakness is dampness. good god u anons are good

Jeremy is an athlete, which means he wears a watch with a timer no matter how nerdy and ugly it is; and he’s a college athlete in his senior year, which means he has a Google Calendar more packed than one of his suitcases when he needs to fly home. In other words: Jeremy keeps track of time to the minute at least. He’s not organized in other parts of his life, but in this one, knowing when and how long, he’s basically a walking bullet journal.

All of which is to say: Jean has been in L.A. for six months, fourteen days, six hours, and twenty-three minutes when Jeremy blinks during lunch with the team and realizes he’s staring. 

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Do You Believe in Miracles?

Characters: CastielXPregnant!Reader, ft. Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1135

A/N: Drabble request from anonymous – “Could you please do an imagine where the reader is pregnant with twins (boy and girl) and Castiel is happy yet worried cause the babies are Nephilim.” Well, this one went in a bit of an interesting direction. Fluff, descriptions of child birth (nothing super intense), perhaps ever-so-slightly angsty in the middle, and then even more fluff, cause fluff.

Originally posted by princesscas

“She’s an angel.” Castiel stared awestruck at the sticky squirming pink newborn held in his trembling arms.

“Yeah man, she’s beautiful,” Dean agreed, squeezing his friend on the shoulder before aiding in the angel’s awkward attempt to swaddle his infant daughter. Dean grimaced at the total ineptitude of Cas’ swaddling ability, gently prying the baby out of his fumbling arms to wrap her securely, “No offense, but she’s lucky she got her mother’s looks.”

“No Dean,” Cas corrected, shaking his head, tone disbelieving, “I mean she’s an actual angel.”

“You mean?” Dean’s jaw slackened askance.

“She’s not a Nephilim.” The wash of joy and relief flooding Cas’ expression was short-lived, drowned out by your renewed screams in the adjoining room.

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Title: like broken glass
Summary: UA where the final battle between Sasuke and Naruto ends with the latter dead, Sasuke wrestling with the knowledge of his victory, and Sakura’s hope finally crumbling at last.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
Rating: M (for semi-graphic violence)
A/N: I had the idea, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to write it because it’s so intensely, intensely angsty. And tragic. LIKE INTENSELY TRAGIC (as in multiple character death). And it’s just not the type of thing that I typically have any desire to write anymore. Anyway, this was intended for ssmonth but I never did get the motivation or desire to really write it out until now. Enjoy?

She felt like she couldn’t breathe when she finally reached the Valley of the End’s shattered grounds. They’d made such a mess of things, having long destroyed the two statues of their ancestors and the great rock walls—but it was the sheer quietness of the scene that unsettled her the most.

There had been hope in her heart when the sounds had subsided on her way to find them, faith that Naruto had finally won Sasuke over to the light again. But when she stood there at the edge of their battle site, feeling cold dread twisting in her stomach, Sakura couldn’t help herself from shaking.

Something was wrong.

Her wide, green eyes scanned the ruined field, searching for any sign of life. Uneasiness settled in more firmly when she found nothing. Hands clenching, she willed herself to keep calm as she resorted to sensing chakra instead.

A faint pulse ahead had her heart skipping a beat. Sakura didn’t waste a moment before sprinting off, the heavy weight of anxiety lifting from her shoulders as she leapt from piece to piece of statue wreckage. It wasn’t until Sasuke appeared in her line of vision that her stomach dropped once more, suddenly realizing that she couldn’t feel the source of another chakra.

She couldn’t feel Naruto.

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FIC: Heartlines Ch 14

Just a very brief vignette. It follows on directly from the previous chapter and is fluffier than a cloud. Hope you enjoy it.

The rest of this fic and my other work can be found here

Chapter 14: As it is now and ever shall be.

Originally posted by yourcoffeeguru

Claire leaned against Jamie’s side as she read the Guardian on her tablet and sipped coffee. Jamie was sat with his back to the headboard, one hand holding a paperback book, the other gently cradling Claire. The sun streamed into the bedroom from where she had pulled the curtains open when she had gone downstairs to fetch the coffee and the half full press sat on a tray besides a small jug of cream (she refused to bring him sugar and he had been to lazy to go downstairs and fetch it himself). Claire let out a sigh of contentment causing him to smile and drop a kiss on the top of her curly head. Her hair smelled of last night’s shampoo. Reaching back but never losing focus on her news article she patted him fondly on the cheek. He took her hand and kissed the palm and she leaned back into him letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. He stroked her arm and she made another little sound of contentment.

Content, yes, that was how he felt right now. Utterly at peace. They had made love into the breaking dawn before falling to sleep wrapped around each other. Awaking a few hours later, neither of them could bear to break the little bubble of bliss by getting up and starting the day. The silence stretched on, peaceful and companionable. Jamie broke it as he chuckled at something in his book, Claire shifted slightly to place her coffee cup on the tray. Outside they heard the sound of the neighbours dog barking and the voices of children gabbling excitedly as they walked down the street towards the park. It was his turn to let out a little sigh of happiness.

“This is just wonderful, Jamie” Claire’s voice, soft and slightly wistful.

“Aye, Mo Nighean Donn, I wish I could start everyday wi you in my arms”

“You could you know” Her voice was low, not a whisper, but quiet. “You could move in here…with me” A little hint of uncertainty in her voice. “If you wanted…”

A pause, not to think, but to make sure the words he chose were the right ones.

“I could, Claire. If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what you want, Jamie?”

She was still nestled in the crook of his arm, her back to him. He shifted and turned her to face him.

“Claire…” her eyes were cast down and her gently raised her face so that their eyes met. “Claire, ye are the love of my life, you are the song that I sing in my showers every morning, even though I ken I have no voice for music, ye are the sun that shines on my days and gives them warmth and makes them live.” He faltered then, wondering if his sentiments, no matter how true, were too cliched. “I, I love ye Claire and the thought of waking up with you in this bed every morning for the rest of my life is something I verra much want to do”.

He kissed her then. Softly and gently. Her arms came up around him and she rested her head on his shoulder as he stroked her hair. The stayed like that for a while, neither of them able to find words which were adequate, connecting instead through the beating of their hearts, the sensation of their skin pressed together, the gently caressing hands of the other.

She shifted again and sat back on her heels, smiling at him, a hint of humour in her eyes.

“Well, if you’re going to be moving in, now is probably a good time to tell you…” She laughed and the tip of her tongue poked out between her teeth in a way that made her look both full of mischief and indescribably desireable.

“And what’s that Mo Nighean?” He asked, raising his eyebrow slightly at her.

That” she pointed to where Jamie sat. “Is my side of the bed.”


This story was requested by @tizniz and was inspired by the soulmate prompt that was circulating a little while ago. I hope you enjoy, love bug!<3

The squeaking of trolleys and squawking children surrounded them as they entered the supermarket. It was a warm and bustling Saturday afternoon in the heart of London. Normally, these food trips were saved for later in the night or during the week so the boys wouldn’t be noticed as much. But, turns out, none of them had properly prepared for the Maynard’s house party, and had chosen to put it off to the last minute.

And, as luck would have it, everyone else was busy. So, it was just Y/N and Joe on this little outing. And, she was annoyed.

“Come on, then,” Joe called out as he headed further into the shop. “No dilly-dallying!”

Y/N groaned as she rolled her eyes. Joe Sugg. From the very beginning, he just rubbed her the wrong way.

It all started when she first met Jack over Tinder. The date had been a disaster, but the hilarity of it all made her agree to a second one. Though, half way through the second date, it was pretty clear they were better suited as friends. They got along so well that Jack thought it’d be great to introduce her to the rest of the boys at a holiday house party, certain they’d all love her.

As far as first impressions go, everyone was great. Except for Joe. When Y/N had met him, he had already been drunk, arm slung around the shoulders of a, equally as trashed, girl. He had spared her maybe two or three words tops before retiring for the night, female friend in tow. The day after, he apologized and introduced himself properly, but his feminine shadow lurked at his back the entire time, silk robe falling from her delicate shoulders.

From then on, even the sound of his name left a bad taste in her mouth.

It didn’t help that every time Y/N was around him, she was his target for constant teasing. She didn’t consider herself to be a sour puss, but whenever he picked on her, it drove her up the bloody wall. It was like he always had something smart to say accompanied with a stupid little smirk on his stupid, stupid face.

She gasped when she ran into something hard and warm.

“Oi oi. Watch out,” Joe drawled, looking over his shoulder. “Deep in dream land, are we?” He continued rummaging through the wine selection.

Y/N scowled at his back when he wasn’t looking anymore, finger rubbing at her forearm, “I was just thinking about everything we needed to get while we’re here.”

“And, yet you haven’t been helping in the slightest,” Joe said. “Maybe less thinking, and more looking.”

She shot him a glare, “Well, it’s not like you wrote a list.”

“Actually.” His hand dug into the pocket of his joggers, pulling out a small, folded paper. “I did.” He passed it to her, a small grin on his lips. “Now, go on. Chop, chop. We’ve got about 30 more minutes until we have to start setting up.”

She knew it was immature, but she couldn’t help rolling her eyes before walking off. Y/N could have sworn she heard him chuckle as well. She gritted her teeth and grumbled as she set out on her mission to find snacks.

About 10 minutes had passed and Y/N was confident that she had got everything that was needed.

“Now, time to see where that idiot buggered off to- AH.“ She jumped when a sudden poke came to her ribs.

“I surely hope you weren’t talking about me.”

Y/N leveled him with another glare, which seemed to be a common thing when around him, “I got everything on the list.”

“Perfect,” Joe took the basket from her hands with ease, placing the few items he had in his hands inside of it. “And, we’ve still got time to spare.”

“I can carry that, Joe.”

Joe smirked, “S’alright, love. I think I can handle it.” He jokingly flexed his free arm at her. “Besides, you’ve been favoring your arm all day, so I figured I’d help out.”

She chose to ignoring his showing off and went straight to confusion, “What are you going on about? I’m fine.”

He pointed down at her, “Then why do you keep messing with it?”

Y/N looked at where he was pointing, realizing that her constant rubbing and pinching had succeeding in making a rash on her right forearm. “Oh.” She blinked, still staring at the thin, rectangle of little, red bumps. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Might want to check your house for bed bugs.”

“Oh, piss off. I don’t have bed bugs.”




“I shower twice a day, no!”

“You shower twice a day? Jeez, clean freak much.”

Y/N sighed, exasperated, “Why must you ALWAYS be such a smart ass.”

Joe just laughed, heading toward the registers.

“I swear you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Oh, this is nothing,” He shot her a wolfish grin. “Cheer up, the worst is yet to come.”

In that moment, Y/N’s vision went white. She heard Joe’s muffled voice, but couldn’t comprehend anything that he said. Her knees hit the floor. Her hand cradled her arm to her chest. She heard calling. Who was calling her?

Reality snapped back to her with a pop.


She jumped.

Joe’s face was close to hers, his eyes full of worry, his hand on her shoulder.

“Love, are you okay?”

She took in her surroundings. A few people stared from the aisles closest to them, but for the most part, no one was alarmed. She was still on the floor, her left hand wrapped tight around her arm. She let go, pulling her arm away so she could look.

The rash was gone, but in its place, was tiny lettering in jagged script.

Cheer Up, The Worst is Yet to Come

Y/N stared at it wide-eyed, not quite believing her own eyes. She switched her gaze to Joe, who was staring at her strange tattoo just as intently. His face that was contorted with worry earlier, then to mild shock, now softened into a small smile. Joe’s eyes met hers.

“Well, it’s about bloody time.”


He grabbed her hand, pulling her up to her feet. Once she was standing, he rolled up the jacket sleeve on his right arm, flipping it over. Y/N’s breath hitched.

On his forearm, in the same font and in the exact same spot read:

You’re Killing Me, Smalls

Y/N let out a sharp laugh. Joe grinned as he pushed his sleeve back down.

“Of all the things I’ve said to you, THAT’S what pops up?” she asked.

“I mean, it’s fitting,” his eyes glittering with mirth. “You did say, I will be the death of you, earlier.”

“But, you don’t even like me!” Y/N said. “When did that happen? Just now?”

“No,” Joe said. “Maybe about three weeks ago.”

She blinked.

“And you never said anything?”

“Nope.” He started scanning the items on at the self-check-out.

“We’re you planning on it?”

“Not unless it happened to you, no.”

She was so confused. It took her a few moments to realize that she was standing there like a fish out of water, and Joe was done paying for everything. And, before she knew it, he was out the door.

Y/N hurried after him, her confusion and frustration with the man growing by the second.

“Wait.” He didn’t respond. “Joe, wait!”

He stopped, turning to her, “Yes?”

“Can we talk about this?”

“Not right now. We’ve got to go set up for the party.”

Y/N froze, “You’re actually joking me.”

Joe kept walking, “Nope!”

Well, surprise, surprise. That’s not changed.

Joseph Graham Sugg still held the title of most infuriating person she knew. Soulmate or not.

A few hours had passed and the party was underway. Joe had purposefully kept his distance from her the whole night, and much to her annoyance, Y/N wasn’t able to corner and confront him at all.

At least the party was a hit. She attempted to keep her mind occupied with beer pong for a bit. She was Jack’s partner, playing against Mikey and Conor. Mikey was useless, but in the end, it was all good fun. Her and Jack cheered as she sank her ball in the final cup, nearly knocking over the game table in their excitement.

They started to clear off the table, but was stopped by a voice.

“Alright, our turn,” Joe shouted over the music. “You two, against Oli and I.”  

“Ohh, you’re on mate,” Jack smirked, setting up the cups with Oli. Both completely unaware of the staring contest happening between the other two.

Y/N felt a shudder run down her spine. His cheeks were slightly pink, evidence of the alcohol strumming through his body. His hair was disheveled. His shirt clung to his chest. But, his eyes were what stopped her in her tracks. They were the bluest she had ever seen. His pupils wide. Were they always that blue? Had she just never noticed before?

The other boys shouted that they were ready and the game started. Oli went first and missed. Jack didn’t do much better. Joe stepped up and aimed, but instead of looking at the cup, he stared right at Y/N. She felt her face flush as she stared right back. She heard the plop of the ping pong ball hitting liquid, the cheer from the people watching and the groan of anguish from her partner.

“Your turn,” Joe said, a small smirk on his lips.

“Come on, Y/N,” Jack clapped his hand on her shoulder. “You got this.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle as the Maynard brothers gathered behind her, talking smack to the opposing team.

Again, Y/N realized that it wasn’t mature, and had a high chance of going badly for her, but she wasn’t going to step down. Taking the same stance as Joe had just a second ago, she aimed, leveled him with a hard stare and a smirk, and shot.

The resounding plop turned her smirk into a full-on grin as the people around the table went nuts.


Jack and Conor both threw their arms around her neck and shoulders, jumping up and down.


Oli looked proper shocked. Joe just shook his head and laughed.

The game continued, both teams doing stupid things to show off and distract the other. In the end, Y/N and Jack won again, the rest of the boys cheering and jumping around. Oli hung his head in defeat, his feet kicking the air, while Joe just stood in place and smiled, slowly drinking the rest of his beer.

The night had really improved from when she had first walked in, and she was glad of it. The party was starting to wind down a bit, some people starting to filter out. Y/N was talking with Josh and Mikey about what a friend’s date had done to Joe’s plants, when Joe himself popped into the corner of her peripheral.

As soon as she turned his gaze to him, he beckoned her to him, his shoulder leaning against the wall. Y/N sighed and excused herself from the boys, and followed Joe to the guest bedroom. When he closed the door after she stepped in, she couldn’t say she was surprised.

“So, he finally decided he wants to talk?” she drawled.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Uh,” Y/N blinked. “I don’t hate you.”

“Well, you certainly don’t like me.”

“I don’t like that you tease and contradict me all the time, simply because you know it annoys me.”

He cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, “I pick on everyone.”

“Not as much as you pick on me.”

“Well, of course not. But that’s not why you don’t like me.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Oh, my god, Joe. You’re doing it now! I’m literally telling you why I get frustrated with you, but you won’t let me get a word in edge wise.”

“No, I just know better. That’s not why you hate me.”

“I obviously don’t hate you. This is proof!” She flung her right arm in the air.

He glanced at it, a smile growing on his face. “No, that’s just proof that you’re stuck with my ‘annoying’ ass for the rest of your life. Nothing more.”

“Really?” she glared.

He just grinned, the tip of his tongue running along the bottom of his teeth, his eyes shining with amusement.

“Of all the people in this universe to have me tethered to, why you?!” her hands clenched into fists, trying her best to stop staring at his mouth. Why did his lips have to look so damn kissable? It wasn’t fair.

He took a step closer to her. “What’s so bad about me?”


Joe chuckled, “Oh, really.” Another step closer. “That’s why you can’t stop staring then?”

“You’ve been staring too.”

“I’ve never denied that.” Another step. “I have no problem saying that I like what I see. I always have.” He brushed a strand of her hair out of her face and behind her ear. “You, on the other hand…”

Her breath caught in her throat. He was so close now. Y/N could smell the dark musk of his cologne. She could feel the warmth radiating from his chest. His baby blues gazed down at her. She felt as though she could get lost the longer she looked.

“Fuck it.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down, their lips crashing together. She sighed into his kiss. Joe’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, backing her up until her shoulders met the wall behind her.

The bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the spring stopper. The couple jumped apart.

“FINALLY!” Jack, Conor and Josh piled into the door way.

A flash of light caught their attention, and they all looked down at Joe and Y/N’s arms. The gold glow dimmed down until there was no more. The only evidence of the words ever being there was a series of raised dots on both of their arms. An identical constellation.

“Well, that’s just freaky.”

“Kind of wish we had filmed that.”

“Oh, my god, yes. Think of the views.”

OUT!” Joe and Y/N both retorted, startling the boys away, the door shutting closed behind them.

Joe sighed, looking back at her, “Anyway, where were-“ Her lips stopped him in his tracks. He chuckled, picking her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. She grinned.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe.

3AM {c.h. & a.i.}

(A/N: thanks to Keelyn @stopirwin for being a real pal and helping me come up with the plot of this fic. I owe you one fam <3)

Summary: threesome with cashton inspired by that mf pic of them dressed as the dudes from reservoir dogs 
Word Count: 2.344
Warnings: smut, overuse of the word cock (no seriously i used it 21 times), anal (lmao i know right), double penetration, a bit of anal fingering, this is so nasty rated N for Nasty

The bright green glow of your alarm clock was the only source of light in your bedroom. You lied in bed, underneath a pile of duvets as you waited for your two flatmates to come back home. Safe and alive, you hoped, especially due to the circumstances.

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CS FF: In Your Arms Tonight
  • Contains spoilers for 6x16 anf 6x17.

‘How did you do it? Find me?’

Killian’s soft voice whispered over Emma as they lay out on their bed. Now that Snow and David were awake, the newly engaged couple had retired to their home, washing the grime of the past few weeks from them and bask in the joy of their reunion.

‘Pixie dust,’ she replied, running a hand up his arm, fingers tracing the sinewy muscles. ‘It can reunite anyone who shares True Love.’

Killian chucked at the reminder of the strength of their love. Her eyes meet his. She is a balm to battering his soul has taken during the separation. Her green eyes sparkle in wonderment. It’s not unlike the moment they were reunited after Zeus had granted him another chance at life. His fingers ghost down her spine as she rests her chin on his chest.

‘What was that place?’ she asked.

When she had dashed though the portal, she had barely taken in her surroundings, rushing for Killian, pushing anyone in their way aside.

‘Neverland,’ he murmured.

A soft ‘oh’ escaped her lips. ‘The shadow you sent, I should have realised,’ she said, her lips hitched into smile. ‘But how did you end up in Neverland. Did Gideon send you there?’

He shook his head. ‘The Enchanted Forest. I ended up in Neverland after using a magic bean and thinking of you.’

Her eyebrows quirked upwards. ‘And how did you end up getting a magic bean this time?’

‘In much the same manner as last time,’ he said, lifting his head to look at her.

A quizzical expression deepened on Emma’s face. ‘You bet the Jolly Roger?’ she asked, ‘but she’s here.’

Killian smirked. ‘Aye, love,’ he said, ‘but Black Beard didn’t know that.’

She stared at him for a moment before her lips hitched up as she laughed.

He joined in her laughter. ‘It was quite the plan, actually, Swan,’ he said when the chuckles subsided. ‘Had Gideon not cursed me, then it didn’t matter if I won or lost, either way I’d have a bean to travel with, and I’d have been back days ago.’

Emma looked at him sadly. ‘I missed you,’ she said softly, her eyes flaring. ‘Until you managed to get that message to me with the shell, I thought…’

She trailed off, looking away. Killian raised his hand to cup her cheek. ‘I know,’ he said soberly. ‘Not being able to tell you the truth was killing me.’

‘But now we also have a chance to defeat Black Fairy,’ she said. ‘You have to tell me everything Tiger Lily told you. We should have brought her with us.’

‘Aye,’ he said, ‘but I have a feeling she’ll find her own way here. I sense he has her own score to settle with the Black Fairy.’

Emma nodded. ‘We still need all the allies we can get.’

‘But I think your mother is right, between us all, we’ll stop her. You changed you fate when Gideon came for you, so there is no reason to fall at his hurdle,’ he scooted down the bed so they were eyelevel.

He cupped her cheek, running his thumbs over her lips. ‘I’ve seen you defeat some of the greatest evils our world can throw at you, Emma.’

‘I know,’ she replied, eyes welling with tears, ‘but the book, it’s coming up to the last chapter. And Henry, something happened with his author powers while you were gone.’

Killian pressed a soft kiss to her lips. ‘Sometimes the end of one book is just the beginning of another,’ he reminded her. ‘Emma,’ he continued, raising her eyes so she was looking at her, ‘we will defeat this, together. I promise you, I will never willingly leave your side.’

She chuckled as a tear escaped from her eyes and trickled down her cheek. ‘You’ve barely left my side since you helped us get to Neverland.’

‘I’d’ve stayed with you before then, if you hadn’t handcuffed in that giant’s den,’ he said.

Their eyes locked. She’d be so afraid of feeling anything, particularly for the roughish pirate aligned to their enemy, that she’d fallen at the first hurdle for him. Not that she ever imagined she’d be lying in bed with him two years later, True Love, engaged and somehow blissfully happy beyond measure.

‘Who’s to say this would have all worked out if I hadn’t,’ she asked with a mischievous grin.

Their hands entwined and Killian brought them up to press a kiss to the ring she had re-accepted scant hours before. She watched the gesture with brimming eyes, heart full of love for the man who knew no bounds when it came to his feelings for her.

‘How does the most feared pirate in the known realms end up falling in love?’ she asked softly.

‘You tell me, love,’ he replied rolling them so she was below him.

He dipped his head to hers, capturing her lips as she moved her legs so she could cradle him between her thighs. She was already ready for him, aching for him to take her and reunite in every way possible. Emma whimpered as he took her, inch by glorious inch, until they were one.

‘At one point, I thought I’d never see you again,’ she whispered as he stilled. ‘When I found out what Gideon had done to keep us apart.’

He silenced her with a kiss. ‘I’d have found my way back to you, Swan. If Hades couldn’t keep us apart what makes you think anyone else could.’

They moved together in a slow dance, hands mapping each other while whispering encouraging words. Keening whimpers of ‘I love you’ as they came together, falling over the edge in each other’s arms.

la douleur exquise (7)

Originally posted by veriloquentmind

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9


I tried my best to not let Sehun’s dismissive attitude towards me affect me. I told myself repeatedly that I did not care anymore and that I should just focus on my relationship with Baekhyun and work extra hard with my job.

I thought maybe it was just Sehun having a bad day, but I was proven wrong since he had remained that way for the past few days.

Also, this was the time of the year when work was the most stressful which didn’t help lift his mood either. I could see that he was stressed out. He had a permanent frown stuck on his face and everybody has been whispering to each other that he had become a lot more snappy recently.

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→ girl like that

psd cr.

pairing: reader x jeon jungkook

themes: angst / fluff

word count: 1,564 words

summary → your faith in jungkook and your budding relationship is put to the test when you find intimate photos of him with an unknown girl in his camera roll. ( a/n: based on a request, thank you anon ! )

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A Lesson in Love (The Little Things Part One)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,286

A/N: Hi babes! I’m sorry for taking so long to update this story. School is a pain in the ass and finding time to write is not easy. Hopefully this super fluffy chapter will make up for it 😊

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - you’re the Groffsauce to my Lin-Manuel Miranda. Thank you for editing this and thank you for existing.

Originally posted by impalastan

“I think I’m going to freeze to death,” Wanda manages to say through her chattering teeth.

Natasha hides further under her fleece blanket, so much so that all you can see are her green eyes. “I think I am too.”

“You know I love the cold, but this?” You turn to glare at the heater in the corner of the room. Of course it had to break down during one of the coldest weekends of the school year and of course there was nothing the school could do about it tonight. “This is too much.”

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lordhyderon-deactivated20170208  asked:

kill me with 34

OMG! What the fuck is wrong with you, man? D: Now in revenge, i’ll write other kind of dying.

34. In a pool of your own blood // AO3

Hyde’s day had been a nightmare.

Not only Kelso and Brooke thought it was a good day to have a big fight and leave their eldest daughter with him so they could resolve their crap alone, but the latest album shipment to Grooves was completely wrong. The distributor had screwed up his order, and he was the one who had to fix it.

He hated this part of being The Boss. He tried his damn best, but on days like this he wished he could still be the lazy kid in the basement. But nope.

Nowdays he was the owner of a growing chain of music stores that also supported small bands, giving them a chance to get heard. He was also a very stressed-out-at-the-moment husband and a very worried-for-the-past-week father.

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Devastation or Hope?

A/N: hey guys! so here is another little gajevy fic for you. I’m warning you ahead time that the grammar might not be great or the story to be honest. The first few times I wrote it and edit it, I cried every time Xp So hopeful a few of you guys might too :p Anyways, if there is any constructive criticism or something that I could do better, please let me know! It would help me out so much you guys! ok well I hope you guys like! love ya! (I don’t own any of characters, they all belong to Hiro Mashima)

Word Count: 1253

Warning: a little bit of angst?, some blood


He woke up to the sound of an explosion and the destruction of a building. Gajeel’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze looking up at the night sky that was being lit up by fireballs, white light, and lightning. The sound of roars and destruction filled his ears, the volume of the sounds causing him to wince. From where he was lying on the ground, he slowly sat up groaning as pain rippled throughout his whole body. Gajeel felt something wet and sticky on his forehead. He raised his hand to his forehead, his fingers collecting some the sticky substance onto his finger tips. He pulled his hand down to reveal that his fingers are stained red; he was bleeding. “Great.” he mumbled sarcastically. Gajeel let out a breath before maneuvering his body so he could stand up. His movements were sluggish and slightly painful, his sore limbs feeling like lead instead of iron. But at least he managed to stand straight without passing out so that was plus.

Once Gajeel pushed the pain aside, he was focusing in on his surroundings. Every building that surrounded him was completely destroyed. Some were lucky enough to have maybe one or two walls still standing while others were just a big pile of stone. Along with the rubble, there were scattered parts of those strange dragon like creatures that from Future Rouge’s dragon.

Gajeel began to walk to one the more intact creatures. He lightly nudged it leg with his boot, “Damn little bastards.” he growled under his breath. He began looking up from the creature when movement caught his eye. He focused his eyes on it, his whole entire body suddenly tensing at a familiar scent. Gajeel’s feet began to move, getting him closer and closer to the object before his brain could fully register what he was looking at. He stopped in front of the stone wall, the light orange colored piece of fabric flapping in the wind from where it was stuck on the wall. He snatch it from the stone and looked down at the familiar piece of cloth in his hand; it was Levy’s bandana. The same one that accented her unruly, blue hair beautifully. The same one he always stole from her and held above his head, laughing and teasing her as she attempted to take the brightly colored cloth back from him. The same one she gave to him as a good luck charm before him and Natsu fought the Twin Dragons during the Grand Magic Games.

Gajeel held it in his palm, looking down at the fabric as he examined it. The usual bright orange coloring was dimmed by dirt and sweat. The ends of the bandana were slightly torn, most likely from the sharp stones he took it from. However, something else on the bandana made his breath catch in his throat. There was a small blood stain in the middle of the bandana near the seam of the cloth. His eyes focused on the stain, both anger and terror building up in his body. His stomach turned at the smell of Levy’s blood filling his nose.

The scent of her blood will haunt him forever, bringing back a painful reminder of his past mistakes. But once he joined Fairy Tail and protected Levy from Laxus attack in the cathedral, he vowed to himself that he would never allow anyone to spill a drop of Levy’s blood ever again. Never wanted to relive the memory of their first accounter ever again.

Gajeel’s hand closed around the piece of fabric tightly like it was a life line.


He shouted, his voice spreading across the wasteland. He began to trudge around the rumble, calling her name over and over. A new found strength filled his body, allowing him to move big pieces of rubble with ease as he dug through the piles. “Levy, answer me damn it!” Gajeel yelled out in frustration.


His head whipped around when he heard the weak but familiar voice, thanking the gods for his dragon hearing. He ran toward the direction he heard her voice coming from, passing another still standing wall before stopping in his tracks. There she was, leaning all her weight against the hard stone wall.

She looked terrible. She was covered from head to toe in dirt. Her favorite orange dress torn in multiple spots. Her knees were bleeding from the scrapes on them and he could see blood dripping down her face. That must have been where the blood stain on her bandana came from. Then his red eyes froze on Levy’s side, widening in horror at what he saw. She had a hand placed on a wound, a large blood stain soaking through the fabric and her hand completely soaked in blood.

“Gajeel…” her soft voice made his eyes tear away from her side to her pale face. She had a few tears running down her cheeks, making clean streaks on her dirty face. But what surprised him the most was the small smile she was giving him. It was weak and barely there, but also full of relief and…happiness? He was so caught up in her smile that he didn’t see her eyes flutter close before she was collapsing to the ground.

Gajeel rushed to her side, falling to his knees beside her. He gently gathered the small woman into his arms, his hand going to straight to her bleeding side to put pressure on it. His eyes traveled to her pale face, “Shrimp?” he said barely above a whisper, shaking the arm cradling her to try and wake her up. “Levy, open your eyes.” Gajeel demanded, his tone hard and worried. “Levy, wake up!” he demanded again, a little more panic in his voice.

It can’t end like this. There was so much he had to say to her, so much he had to admit and do with her. They had so many adventures ahead of them. He was supposed to help her train more once they got back. Make her stronger than she already was. She was going show him some research she had done about dragons from an ancient book that she had found. He…he hasn’t even been able to man up and tell her about he actually feels about her, about how he has fallen in love with her. That realization sent a stabbing sensation through his heart.

“Levy, you got to wake up.” Gajeel said, his voice filled with fear and desperation. “Damnit Levy, open your eyes!” he yelled in frustration. A shaky breath past his lips, “Y-you can’t do this to me Shorty. You can’t just leave! You can’t leave Jet and Droy, Lily, or Fairy Tail. They need you damnit.” he yelled angrily, breathing hard. “I need you.” His voice barely above a whisper as the words left his lips, his hand gently cupping her face as he gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

Gajeel turned his head up toward the sky, “Wendy!” he roared at the top of his lungs. “Natsu! Laxus! Juvia! Anyone!” His yells desperate, feeling helpless with the woman he loves slowly dying in his arms. He looked down at her again, her tiny smile still on her lips.

Suddenly a tear drop fell onto her cheek. It was Gajeel’s. He didn’t even realize he had tears in his eyes. A shaky breath left him before he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead and just taking in her scent. He closed his eyes as more tears began to run down his cheeks. He lightly whispered, “You’re going to be ok.”, and, “Just open your eyes for me.”, and, “Please wake up.”

As he repeated the phrases over and over again, Levy’s hand that was resting in her lap twitched lightly, going unnoticed by the man she loves back.

quiet constellations 

word count: 1520
notes: futurefic, compliant to 316, dreaming in ‘if onlys’ + established
a/n: i wrote this a million years ago in an attempted fix-it collaboration with @margueriitecaine. i thought about this today, rereading it, and still loved what i wrote. so i wanted to share it.

The cabin is dark, light slipping through the crack as she opens the door. She can see Bellamy tangled in their sheets, the golden expanse of his back illuminated by the moon. Leaving it open to guide herself towards the bed, Clarke eases herself onto the edge, sitting with her back to his sleeping form, barely allowing herself to relax.

“Clarke?” Bellamy stirs behind her.

She looks at her hands.

She feels the bed shift as he sits up.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, glancing over to her spot, now empty and cool to the touch.

Her heart hammers against her throat.

“We’ve been good for a long time now, haven’t we?”

Bellamy crawls towards her, settling right behind her back. His hands automatically circle her waist and pull her into his chest. Clarke tips her head back when his lips find the exposed skin on her shoulders.

“I just–” she starts, then stops with a frown. After a second she collects herself and says, “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

It’s not really a question for him.

“Clarke, what is this about? Of course I’m not going anywhere. We’re not running anymore. None of us are.”

Clarke turns slightly, his lips near her temple.

“Everything was so much, all the time. But I’m here, with you, and I don’t feel like I’m carrying it all on my own anymore.” She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to combat the wave of emotions coming at her. “You’re the realest thing in my life.”

Bellamy tightens his embrace. “Clarke, a lot of real shit has happened. People we’ve loved, we’ve trusted, we’ve cared for, we’ve tried to protect– those people have died, or gotten hurt, or– or left.”

They don’t mention them by name.

Clarke slowly lifts her head, she’s barely on the bed at this point, Bellamy surrounding her. Getting to her feet and turning, Bellamy’s body chases her, finding the edge of the bed. He drops his feet to the ground, and Clarke remains in the cradle of his thighs.

His hands rest on her hips, looking up at her with wondering eyes, careful eyes.

Clarke’s hands cup his face, tracing his jaw, her thumb dipping into the dimple in his chin. His whole body radiates heat, like his whole being does. Everything about Bellamy is warmth. Her eyes finally find his, and it’s overwhelming. They see into hers, exposing every part of her. Every truth. Every insecurity. Every flaw. Every beautiful, broken thing.

Her brows knit together, thinking too hard.

“Stop thinking so lou–”

“I love you.”

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This was stupid

This whole thing, it was so stupid, and it made Annabeth feel stupid, and she wasn’t stupid, she was smart, gods damn it, so why couldn’t she do this? She should have been able to do this.

She only realised she was crying when a tear splashed on to the page of her textbook, blurring the black letters printed on the white page. That tear falling felt like conceding defeat, and soon enough she was crying in earnest, sobbing hard enough that the words became even less intelligible than they’d already been.

She put her head down on the book and let herself cry, feeling terribly stupid and sorry and frustrated. Her whole face felt hot, flushed with anger and annoyance - at this essay, at herself, at the fact that she was a daughter of the goddess of wisdom and she couldn’t seem to write a simple fucking essay.

When the door to her room opened she instinctively straightened, grabbing her dagger and spinning in her seat to face the intruder. When she saw who it was she immediately collapsed back onto the desk, face first, letting her dagger fall to the floor. 

She heard Percy shut the door behind himself. There were a few soft footsteps, and then a gentle hand on her shaking shoulder and a quiet question. “Annabeth, hey, what’s up?”

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Clary and Jace cave scene, director's cut

demishadowhunt19 said: Hello!! It’s the Thanksgiving season so I thought I’d let you know how thankful I am for your wonderful books! Also, I have a question I hope you’re willing to answer. Will there ever be any COHF deleted scenes or experts on your website? I ask because there are a lot of extras from the other books and I need something occupying while I wait for TDA 😄 Thanks so much for reading and for being awesome!… Okay so maybe I also ask for the reason of finally reading that unrated cave scene… 

You demand zee sexytimes? Fine, here they are! I break! My will = shattered. Okay, so basically this is just the Jace and Clary cave scene (yes, THAT one) from CoHF before it was edited down for length and Less Obviousness About What Was Happening. I don’t think they actually do anything different here, and really it’s a scene about people having feelings about sex rather than particularly about sex. But enjoy! Um, happy Thanksgiving!

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*Washed Away Pt 4* Newt x reader

Part one here!Part two here! ○ Part three here!

■ TAGS: @aliensdeservebetter @danilovesstuff

You covered your mouth with your hand as you giggled at Newt retelling the story of capturing the Niffler in the jewelry store with both you and Jacob. Using his hands to explain the craziness and even adding in the sound effects of the crashing glass, chandelier falling and the ladder falling through the window.

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