no body not even the rain

anonymous asked:

"shh you're safe now" with vernon being angsty at first then fluffy please

Vernon, “Shh, you’re safe now.” 

He didn’t know what to think when he found her huddled up in their bed shaking like an autumn leaf, clutching the flannel blanket around her shoulders like a shield. Throwing his practice stuff to the ground, he took two hops before descending on the bed. As the bed creaked in protest, the window illuminated with a bolt of stark white light, following a nearly deafening boom of thunder. 

She shrieked, throwing open her blanket to cover her and Vernon with the thin fabric. In a panic he pulled her into her arms, feeling her small body do its best to crawl into his open lap as she shivered at the new source of heat. The rain seemed a lot more palpable at that moment, even more so as it simultaneously rattled the windows and shivered their spines. 

“Shh, you’re safe now.” he cooed, nuzzling his face in the dip between her neck and collarbone. The words, while mumbled in her skin, felt incredibly clear against her heart, livened by the bolt of electricity in his touch that had nothing to do with the lightening outside. Shifting a little, he moved to rest his chin atop her head. 

Stuffing her face deeper in the warmth of his chest, she sighed contentedly, already feeling her body start to relax. “God, I don’t even care if I’m embarrassed. Thank god you’re here.”

300 words or less

Desolate, the eerie cemetery.
Warnings come in threes.
The thunder cracked,
the lightning snapped,
and the rain fell in sheets.
Gone was the sweet boy,
the martyr.

He rose from the grave,
Cold as Ice.
Ready for the hunt,
with an itch to kill,
to fight.
No matter the price.
He sold his brother’s blood,
straight from the vein.
Just to gank the Alpha.
A short circuit in his brain.
Gone was the innocent boy,
the savior.

Bodies began to drop like flies.
“Do whatever it takes! Get the job done.”
Bruised knuckles curled around the barrel.
Bang! It’s smoking. He didn’t even flinch.
The end has just begun.
Each death- lies,
swallowed.
Mouth like a fly trap.

Callous and Cunning.
A snake ready to strike.
Lucifer might be caged but,
you can still feel his bite.
It’s in Sam’s reckoning eyes
and his wicked grin.
He was everything the Devil intended.
He was unadulterated sin.


A grin like the Cheshire Cat,
revealing scarlet stained teeth.
A starlight missing from his chest.
There was no stopping, no sleep, no rest.
Like Alice, he had fallen down a hole.
But when he rose,
he was like the Tin man,
no heart, no soul.

— 

The Devoid Saint

Supernatural Poetry Challenge |

@ariannnawinchester vs @manawhaat

Theme: Team Free Will Variations

Prompt: Soulless!Sam

Pairings: None

Tags: Soulless!Sam, Sam Winchester

Some Things Nobody Tells You About Being in a Wheelchair

You’re gonna get all sorts of advice on how to think, what to think, how to be positive, how to keep abled-bodied people comfortable. However, almost nobody is going to tell you how to be disabled, if you catch my drift. Very few people actually want to talk about it, so without further adieu, here are some things I wish somebody told me:


-Getting out of your car in the rain is terrifying. It’s a slippery, wet hell.

-The snow is even worse. People are going to shovel into accessible parking spots. Or worse, they won’t shovel it. You will inexplicably have to cancel plans at some point or another due to the snow.

-Mud and dirt. All over your hands, all the time.

-Yes, your shoulders are going to be sore for the first few months, and anytime you over exert. 

-Yes, your butt is going to ache after sitting all day.

-Invest in side guards!! Seriously, they’ll save your clothes. I personally like the removable kind, because it’s easier to transfer with them off.

-Scissor breaks (or undermount breaks) are fantastic for saving your thumbs from the pain of jamming them on the break, however they’re more money.

-You will face-plant. It will happen, and it will be mortifying. We’ve all been there.

-Get some cycling gloves!

-People really do stare.

-They also really do ask inappropriate questions. Be prepared.

-The world isn’t all that accessible. Even when places claim to be, they aren’t always. Restaurants are a personal hell for me because the tables are always too close together and they never have accessible bathrooms.

-Your hands are going to get gross. Mine are calloused and nasty 24/7. If you get manicures then this won’t be as bad, but you’ll still have to say goodbye to smooth hands.

-Learn how to wheelie. You’re going to have to wheelie of curbs, bumps in the sidewalk, all the stuff.

-Your shoes are going to last forever, which is fantastic, but it’s almost impossible to break them in.

-If you put a backpack on the back of your chair (which you should) make sure it’s not too heavy, or else you’ll fall backwards when you wheelie.

-Keep your chair clean. Tweeze the grime and hair from your caster wheels at least every 4 weeks. Keep your tires full of air.

-Carry around an allen wrench in your bag or backpack. You might never need it, but if you do, you’ll be really glad to have it.

-If you’re planning of wear high heels, consider lowering your footplate so that your knees aren’t too high up.

-Consider getting a hand held shower head. It just makes life easier.

-High waisted pants and long tops are a blessing.

Beggin' For Thread (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Request! ❤

A/N: To the lovely anon that requested this brilliant idea!! I loved writing this because boxers in general are super comfy and look hell sexy, too. Especially on Bucky Barnes! :D Hope you guys like it!! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Beggin’ For Thread: Reader steals some of Bucky’s boxers during laundry day. But when he goes to her for comfort from a thunderstorm he gets a surprise.

Warnings: S M U T! Biting. Fluff. Comfort.

You usually did the laundry on Sunday’s.

But as Steve stood before you holding two laundry hampers filled with his and Bucky’s dirty clothes and a sheepish smile on his face, you couldn’t help but giggle at the man. You didn’t mind it though, not one bit. In fact, you were more than happy being given the chance to do anything but sit around and wait for your ankle to heal.

A couple days ago, you managed to fracture your ankle. Fury flat out refused to let you go on any missions, including the one you’ve been training for since last month. Sitting around while your friends got to go kick Hydra ass wasn’t in your nature. So you savored any small tasks that were given to you. Even if that meant doing the laundry every day this week.

On the bright side, it gave you a chance to see the team’s embarrassing underwear collection.

Wanda secretly had a Hello Kitty thong collection, which was either the cutest or funniest thing on this planet. You still couldn’t decide which, maybe it was the latter. She nearly imploded when you brought it up to her one training session. You wondered if she wore them for Vision.

Sam secretly had a couple pairs of hot dog boxers. You were practically on the floor with laughter whenever you found it the first time. You at least expected some Captain America undies in there, but hotdogs? That was completely unexpected.

Nat’s underwear collection consisted of mostly black lace, with the exception of a couple cotton boy shorts in the mix. You were actually kind of surprised that she didn’t own at least one Black Widow themed thong, but what she DID have raised some eyebrows. Besides her underwear and other clothes, there was an American flag themed lingerie set. And if it was in the dirty laundry that must’ve meant it had been recently used. Interesting.

Tony’s underwear was by far the most bizarre thing you’ve ever seen. He preferred briefs, but that wasn’t what shocked you. They had little Winter Soldier’s printed on them. You couldn’t NOT take a picture of that. After all the teasing, Tony was still a softie for the man.

But out of everyone’s underwear, you liked Bucky’s the best. They weren’t anything special. They all consisted of plain black boxer shorts. They didn’t look amazing, but they surely felt like it when you ran your hands along the material. Although it was wrong, you really did need some new sleeping shorts.

The stress of your injury and work caused you to gain a couple pounds onto your hips –nothing drastic, but it was enough to make all of your jeans and shorts feel like they were made of metal against your tummy when you wore them.

Staring down at the boxers in your hands, you placed them into your laundry hamper and hurriedly walked to your room. You’d only wear them tonight, that’s it! Then tomorrow, you’d just say they got mixed up in your laundry. Voila! Nothing to be worried about.

xxxxxxxxx

Bucky stood outside your door, debating internally whether to knock or just let you rest.
He was heavily considering just going back to his room, but the thundering…he couldn’t sleep through that. You offered to help comfort him during the storms whenever he needed it.

The news showed that the storm would roll in around 3:30 am, which was fine by him since he was usually up by then from the nightmares, but after the latest mission he needed some rest. His body felt so heavy, but his mind was racing from the constant shaking of the building and the sound of thunder.
With a heavy sigh, he knocked gently onto the door.

“Y/N?” he asked, opening the door slightly. He peeked his head in, squinting his eyes in the darkness. If it weren’t for the sudden lightning strike, he would’ve have seen you. And boy was it a sight to see.

You were lying on your stomach, with the covers across your waist. You looked absolutely gorgeous like this and he couldn’t allow himself to ruin that by waking you for his own selfish gain. Bucky turned around and turned the knob as quietly.

“Bucky?” you called out, your voice still laced with sleepiness. “Where are you going?”

He turned around, staring at your upper body, which was only covered with a black bra. He was instantly reminded about his mom’s scolding as a child. “It’s awfully rude to see a woman without clothes that ain’t your wife, James!” she would say. Jesus, she would probably give him a smack upside the head if she were here right now. But this was an entirely new era with new rules, right?

Bucky avoided your eyes entirely, focusing on the random stack of books on your desk instead.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he mutters, a blush beginning to grow on his cheeks. “The storm woke me.”

Catching the hint, you leaned over the side of your bed and grabbed a random shirt lying around and slipped it back on. If Bucky was the man he was in the 40’s, he would’ve been staring shamelessly. But he’s not that man anymore. He respected you and your privacy.

You patted the empty space next to you, smiling tiredly. You could barely keep your eyes open yourself. Bucky made his way over to you and slid into the warmness that was your bed. Somehow, despite being littler in size and shape, Bucky felt safe with you. As inane as it seems, you made him feel like nothing could ever happen to him.

You nuzzled into the pillow and looked up at him. “I can’t believe this thunder,” you yawn, looking out the large window in your room. As if on cue, another large clap of thunder caused the entire building to shake. Bucky filched harshly and clinged onto your smaller frame. You could feel him trembling slightly, his heart racing wildly.

You shifted so that you were on your back and gently placed his arm around your middle. Taking the hint, he rested his head onto your chest.

“My mom used to say that the lightening was actually a giant camera in the sky that Mother Nature used to use,” you say softly into his ear, running your hand through his hair slowly. “And the thunder was just the sound it made each time she took a picture.”

Bucky smiled. The vibrations from your chest as you spoke filled him with ease.

“My parents used to say it was just rain.” He snorted, causing you to giggle. You were glad that he still had a sense of humor.

You felt his flesh hand against the skin of your stomach that wasn’t covered by the shirt. His calloused fingertips brushed against the flesh lightly, tracing unknown patterns into the skin.

You were nearly asleep again, when you felt the waist band of the boxers you wore being pulled away from your waist and then suddenly being snapped back onto the skin, creating a loud sound.

Your eyes shot open, brows drawn together in confusion. But only to be met with Bucky looking at your with a smirk. “So this is where my favorite boxers went.”
Uh oh.
“I swear I’m not some creepy underwear thie-“
Before you could explain yourself, Bucky’s mouth was on yours. You moaned into the kiss. His tongue found its way to yours with ease. You could never find it in you to deny him anything.
You both shifted so that you were straddling him. All while never breaking the kiss. Bucky’s lips were a little chapped and raw from the many times he bit them, but to you they were perfection.
Bucky grinded against your clothed core, his member rubbing against the material. You would’ve never thought of trying this, not in a million years. As odd as it was, the sensation was mind blowing. You rolled your hips back in time with his, enjoying the feeling of his member sliding along the thin material. The small crotch area began to dampen from a mixture of your wetness and his pre come, making it even better.

Bucky’s metal hand found its way to the back of your bra. You could hear the mechanical shifts as it worked the hooks expertly, unclasping it within seconds. His blue eyes dilated fully as they focused on your chest. His flesh hand let go of your hip and traveled along the curve of your breast. His fingertips gently pinched your nipple, causing you to shiver. It was like you were doing this for the first time all over again. It certainly felt like it, given how your body reacted to desperately to his touch. All of your self-control went right out the window and into the rain.

The thunder struck again, but this time, Bucky didn’t even acknowledge it. His eyes were glued to your chest. Watching it with hunger as you rocked your hips into his. You couldn’t wait any more, you needed him now.

You slid the material of the boxers down your legs, kicking them off the bed and onto the floor. Bucky’s hands gripped your hips gently and guided you onto his lap once again. The wetness from your core began to slide down your thighs, drenching his as they rubbed together.

Bucky let out a small groan, throwing his head back onto the headboard with a thud. Thinking back on it, none of the previous girls could compare to you. None of them ever got this wet for him, yearned for him like you did. You were a goddess and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

You aligned yourself with his member, the feeling of his tip teasing your folds sent a wave of excitement through your body. You were about to have sex with Bucky. It wasn’t the ideal way you’d imagined it would happen, but it was better than the backseat of a car or what he was used to. You could tell by the way his hands shook with excitement as he ran them along the flesh of your hips that he knew this, too.

Before you could do anything, Bucky gripped your chin with his thumb and index finger and forced you to look at him. It wasn’t rough by any means, but he was desperate.

“Do you love me?” he asks, staring into your eyes. You felt like he was looking into your soul. To say the question threw you off guard was an understatement. Did you love him? But most importantly, did he love you?

“I do,” You say truthfully, before sinking down onto his length. Bucky let out a curse, his head falling back onto the headboard. You let out a whimper as he filled you finally. It had been a while for you. Your last lover wasn’t anywhere near as big as Bucky. He wasn’t even on Bucky’s level when it came to anything, really. Bucky Barnes was one of a kind.

“Fucking Christ, doll,” he groaned, his hands dug into your sides. His eyes fluttered shut as you began gently bouncing. He let out little grunts each time your hips connected with his. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room, along with the dueling sounds of your cries of pleasure and the booming sound of thunder.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, using it to balance yourself as you bounced faster onto his cock. He filled you up in ways you’ve never thought you could be filled. And it felt so right.

Bucky’s mouth hung open as you began circling your hips, providing him with a deeper angle.
You could feel his cock throbbing against your g spot each time you rocked a certain way.

Sending your certain pace, Bucky began thrusting into you, his hands grabbing your ass forcefully.

"Oh my god, Bucky!” You screamed, your head falling back. The feeling of him hitting that special bundle of nerves repeatedly made your orgasm near.

“You like that, prințesă?” He asks, thrusting faster into your heat. You cry out at his words. “You feel so fucking good around my cock.”
“I’m gonna come!” You shout, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Bucky’s lips went to your throat and sucked harshly. With a scream of his name, you came. Your legs shook with pleasure. With a growl, Bucky followed suit, coating your walls with come.

You collapsed against each other, completely exhausted. The storm had finally stopped and you could see the pinkness of the rising sun in the sky. It illuminated your entire room with it.

“I love you,” Bucky confessed, resting his chin on your head. His flesh hand rubbed small circles into your back. You grinned into his shoulder.

“I think I figured that out when you came inside me.” You smirked.

He let out a tired laugh. “No, I’m in LOVE with you, Y/N. really.”

You placed a small kiss onto the scarred flesh of his shoulder, right above the metal part.

“I know, James,” you giggle. “I think the entire floor knows, too.”


-FIN ❤

P.S. Sam wears hot dog undies, pass it on!!

have you ever been in love? - reggie mantle

word count: 2.328 (oops)

warnings: swearing, i mention death like once

plot: a quiz about love makes reggie think about you

a/n: plot was inspired by this . i wanted to write something short and cute and now it’s 3am and i wrote this long ass thing

part 2


“Alright, class,” The teacher spoke up, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Hence today is Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d give you all a short, small quiz!”

The announcement was met with a collective groan.

“It’s not that kind of quiz.” The teacher began handing out papers, a smile on their face. “It’s about love and even though it won’t get graded, try to answer the question seriously, don’t joke around.”

Keep reading

Headcanon I

It’s sixth year and Harry is just that tiny bit more observant in his stalking of Draco Malfoy.

At first everything seems so ordinary that it is almost boring, the blonde swaggers casually around the castle, a sneer plastered to his face , his personal goons following behind him. But secretly Harry knows that watching Malfoy will never be boring for him because there’s a certain magnetic pull that the Slytherin has.

After some time though, just as Harry is considering giving it up, he begins to realise things about Malfoy. He begins to pick up on how his shoulders slump immediately and he let’s out a long breath that such a thin (and was he always that thin?) boy couldn’t possibly have held as soon as he’s alone. He begins to realise how defined his shoulders and ribs and cheekbones are and how hollow and dark the bags under his eyes are. He takes in the way he begins to let go of and then lose completely his former swagger and how he never seems to be in anyone else’s company anymore.

This continues for a few weeks until Harry knows something is definitely wrong. Draco no longer wanders the halls of Hogwarts like a self-proclaimed prince, instead he lies on his back with his arm covering his eyes on the grass field behind the school or stares blankly across the school grounds from the astronomy towers.

And he is always alone.

In class he’s always absent, Harry notes. He stares forward in the direction of the teacher but he always seems to be looking through Professor Snape. There’s something wrong with his eyes as well, they’ve lost their usual malicious gleam and seem to have rusted over (not that Harry stares at his eyes or anything regularly). His hair is much too tousled and his gaze when he sees Harry staring at him from across the great hall is much too passive.

The blonde is reduced to hardly anything more than a skeleton at this point and soon Harry realises that he isn’t stalking Malfoy to stop what ever the fuck he’s doing, it’s so that he can keep a close eye on the slowly deteriorating boy because no one else is.

No one else is seeing what he is seeing.

No one else is realising that Draco is slowly dying.

No one except for him.

It’s suddenly Harry’s unspoken mission to make sure Draco doesn’t suddenly slip past his fingertips and disappear completely because then who will he have to call a git and chase around the castle long after his anger has subsided and his chest hurts from running and a strange burning sensation?

One day, instead of heading up to the astronomy tower or behind the school, Draco Malfoy leads a determined Harry up to the owlery where the howling wind and beating rain is much more menacing. Harry is shivering under his invisibility cloak and he can see that Draco is too, all he’s wearing is his now-soaked button up and his school slacks.

Harry is confused (and all too relaxed, he tells himself after) until Draco’s stiff body begins to move towards the stone wall and he lifts a leg onto it.

What’s he doing? Is all Harry can think.

But then Draco is lifting his second leg and it all clicks.

The Gryffindor throws off the invisibility cloak and sprints over to grab Malfoy’s wrist and pull him away from a premature death.

Malfoy spins around and even through the rain, Harry can tell he’s been crying. The Slytherin is too stunned for words as Harry throws his arms around his waist and pulls him close in a bone-crushing hug.

‘Pot-’ is all Malfoy can manage before he starts crying again.

He can feel Harry’s warm breath on his neck, repeating over and over that it’s ok and that he shouldn’t do this.

He can feel Harry’s tense muscles against his chest and around his middle.

It’s Potter. Of course it’s Potter. It’s always Potter. Is all Draco thinks as he succumbs to the shorter boy’s sleep-inducing body heat and rests his tired head on his shoulder.

Harry would’ve loved to be the taller one in this situation so that he could rest his chin on the blonde’s head, but he does the next thing he can think of which is to play with Malfoy’s hair as he hiccups into Harry’s shoulder.

Malfoy slowly wraps his arms around Harry, appreciating the warmth the latter seems to be radiating.

Harry can feel all too well each and every rib of Malfoy’s and though that in itself isn’t a nice feeling, having a raw, vulnerable Draco in his arms is.

‘It’s ok.

It’s ok.

You shouldn’t do this.’

Malfoy nuzzles his face into Harry’s neck and breathes in his scent.

'Thank you Harry.’

Things I learned during my first weekend at college
  • Your parents will hover like crazy and try to help you unpack when you move in. They mean well, but if you’re overwhelmed don’t be afraid to kick them out for a bit. 
  • Don’t ask your RA what bars to hit up in town (like one girl from my floor actually did)
  • Check your e-mail five times a day, your professors might be sending out syllabi or other helpful/important stuff ahead of time. 
  • You will cry at least once while buying textbooks from the campus bookstore that you couldn’t find used on Chegg (sidenote: use Chegg) 
  • Your dining hall probably has pizza available for every meal. Don’t eat pizza for every meal. 
  • Even if you hated salads your entire life, you will learn to love them so that, you know, you don’t eat pizza for every meal. 
  • Check your dining hall hours online. Some of them close between meals. 
  • Leave your door open or do random Internet browsing in the floor lounge if you want to meet more people. 
  • At least one of your posters will constantly fall down no matter how many 3M command strips you use.
  • A lot of campus events are lame. A lot of them are not. Go to as many of them as you can anyways to meet more people.
  • If you need time to yourself, take it. You’ll make friends eventually without having to hang out with them constantly. 
  • Don’t expect to become BFFs with everyone you meet, and don’t expect to become best friends over your first weekend. 
  • If you’re standing if a long period of time, bend/relax your knees every so often. If you keep them locked, you might trigger a nerve in your body that causes you to pass out (this may or may not have happened to me on my second day, oops) 
  • Drink water.
  • Carry an umbrella if there is the slightest chance of rain. Carry one even if there isn’t, just in case. 
  • Carry a sweater or hoodie always. 
  • Pokemon Go is lit on college campuses; every single building is a gym or pokestop and there are lures everywhere. Plus, your eggs hatch in no time because you’re walking everywhere. 
  • It’s okay to eat alone in a dining hall; either no one will care or someone will sit at your table and strike up a conversation.
  • If you really, really don’t want to eat alone, literally just knock on someone’s door in your hall. If they don’t want to go with you, try someone else. Chances are, someone else might be hungry, too or at least willing to walk over with you. 
  • Come up with a roommate agreement. Decide when you’re cleaning, sharing policy, guest policy, light and noise preferences, etc. 
  • If there is a massive involvement fair on campus, research some clubs online so you know what to look for. Otherwise you’ll be overwhelmed in two seconds. 
  • Join a group chat with people on your floor or in the same area of study as you, it’s super helpful for general information.
  • Ask everyone you talk to to add you on Snapchat. 
  • Simple things like taking out the trash or doing laundry will suddenly feel very overwhelming. 
  • You learn a lot of stuff from being in college for only three days and not even taking any classes. 
INTJ quirks I’ve noticed
  • They care™
  • LOVE hugging those they care about. If they love you they will glomp you and caress you lots… but in private.
  • Will procrastinate every obligation they have personally decided is not worth their time (even if it’s really important).
  • Kinda forget to look after their own body sometimes. Susceptible to bad habits. Will also try to “ignore it“ when they’re freezing and end up with the most terrible cold ever.
  • "It’s raining and it’s cold? Eh I’ll take the one hour walk home” *hospitalized the following day*
  • Really, REALLY like it when someone takes care of them. Makes them feel like royalty.
  • Can have extremely high self-esteem but are never haughty.
  • Loves the “Evil dictator” INTJ stereotype but actually just wanna be left alone to chill.
  • Not as loyal as ENTJs. If you truly disappoint them they will remove you from their life without batting an eye, and in some cases without giving you a second chance.
  • Emotional-manipulation-proof. INTJs literally cannot be manipulated emotionally, they see through it all.
  • Never go out looking for shit but also never back down if someone else starts shit.
heartbeat pt. III

Title: Heartbeat Pt. III
Pairing: Josh Dun/Reader, Tyler Joseph/Reader
Rating: Very mature.
Warnings: Daddy kink, roughness, name-calling, drama, fluff. All kinds of chaos.
A/N: This stupid chapter is 8.3k words, and I’m so worn out because this has been driving me bonkers. I hope you’re ready for some drama, because this is where things start to get real. Let me know what you think, because this one was obviously very difficult to write.

Originally posted by giffingtop

Keep reading

#3

I think Jack likes telling Bitty that he loves him, no matter if he can hear him or not. Just because.

The first time it’s in a letter that he doesn’t even send, “why didn’t anyone tell me that I’m so goddamn in love with you?”, because it’s only been two weeks since they first kissed and it’s too scary, too much, too soon. The second time is when Bitty has fallen asleep on top of him on the couch while they were watching an old movie his mum starred in. It’s the first time they’re alone together in Jack’s apartment and Jack almost told him over dinner, on the way home, when they got back inside and the rain had them changing into soft shirts and wrapping themselves in blankets. It’s just a soft “I love you” against Bitty’s forehead followed by a kiss before Jack closes his eyes too, but it’s something. The third time is when Jack sees Bitty for the first time in over three weeks and can’t hold it in anymore.

“I hope you know I love you,” he says and refuses to let go of Bitty’s hug, even when there’s an obvious change in Bitty’s entire body when he says it. It feels lighter, less restricted.

“I love you too, honey,” Bitty says back. And Jack pulls back enough that he can kiss his forehead and whisper it softly again. Just because.

scars [peter parker]

Originally posted by peterparkerimagine


warnings: mentions of sex, heavy make out, a bit of sadness in the beginning

request: @pradabiatch655 

word count: 1655


    Today had been one of the worst days of your life.

    It had started out just like any other day, you walked to school beside your boyfriend of two years, Peter Parker. The two of you always walked to school every morning, seeing as you lived in apartments that were close together. It was almost like a tradition for the two of you; meeting at the corner of the two of your building, before walking the fifteen minutes it took to get to school.

    Once the two of you had arrived at school, everything went downhill, fast.

    The moment you stepped into your first period class, your stomach had turned sideways, feeling as though your guts were turning themselves inside out. It felt as though something bad was going to happen as soon as you sat in your desk.

    And something bad was happening, indeed.

    Sitting in the cold, wooden desk aside Peter, you lowered your arm so that you could grab ahold of your bag. Pulling out a pencil, you straightened your back and relaxed into the seat. Raising your eyes, you noticed your teacher standing at the front of the room, a stack of paper in his hands.

    Pop quiz.

    An hour later, there were tears in your eyes, as you knew that you had down awful on the quiz. With the grade that you already had, this quiz would have decided your grade for the next few weeks.

    And that was not the end of the story.

    By the end of the school day, you had taken three tests, been bullied by the most popular girls in school, and tripped into the mud outside the school’s front doors on the way home. Now, you stood in front of Peter’s apartment, tears in your eyes. The cold, salty tears stung your dulled eyes as you knocked on his front door. Peter opened a few moments later, his body wrapped in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. His wide eyes scanned your shivering frame before he was immediately grabbing you by your waist. He pulled you into his chest, strong arms wrapping around your hips. You inhaled his familiar scent as he pulled you closer to his chest, something that seemed almost impossible. The teen in front of you seemed sympathetic, his eyes filled with sadness and his heart filled with hurt.

    If Peter was being honest, when he saw the tears in your eyes, he was filled with a sudden rage. He wanted to find whoever had done this to you and use his newfound powers to show them that they should never hurt you. The teenage, human spider hated that you were in pain, even if it were not physical.

    Peter pulled you out of the rain, his grip never leaving your body. He pulled you into his apartment with strong hands guiding you to his room. He ducked past his Aunt May, trying to avoid her pestering questions, wanting nothing more than to get you warm and happy.

    When he reached his room, he grabbed a pair of his old sweats and a large shirt of his. He handed them to you, not uttering a word before gently pushing on the small of your back. He pushed you towards his bathroom, letting you get changed out of your wet clothes and into his fresh, warm ones. While you changed, Peter moved across his room, turning on his television screen. He let the vibrant screen play quietly in the background of his room for a few moments before he grabbed a movie beside the television. He pushed it into the slot of the screen before moving back to his bedside, moving the blankets and bunching them up in order to make part of a fort.

    When you exited Peter’s bathroom, you were surprised to see what he had done. Your eyes scanned the small room and laid them upon Peter’s figure; he was sorting the blankets and pushing pillows to the side of his bed so that there would be room for the two of you.

    Making a sound from the back of your throat, you alerted Peter of your presence. The teen turned his attention in your direction, his eyes immediately falling upon your frame. His chocolate brown eyes took in your broken stature; scrubby, red eyes, sunken-in frame, and wet, knotted hair.

    “Oh, baby,” Peter spoke sadly, moving the distance to take you back into his arms. He let your forehead fall against his broad chest, new tears soaking his sweatshirt. Peter rubbed small circles into your back, his head laying atop of yours, breathing in your scent. He let you cry for a few more minutes before he pulled you towards his bed. He layed you down in front of him, letting him lay behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back into him. The position felt natural, as if he were meant to lay beside you.

    For the next hour or so, you and Peter cuddled into each other and watched movies, letting you get more comfortable.

    While you were focused on the movie, you did not see Peter watching you. You did not notice Peter’s eyes as he scanned your face with adoration in his eyes. He watched your eyes as they crinkled when you laughed, and the way that your lips curled at the end when you smiled. His eyes shined and reflected immense happiness when you smiled, grinning happily when you did. His eyes roamed every inch of your face, from the scars and lines. He knew that you did not like the scars and acne marks on your face. You claimed that they were ugly; that they made you look different and not perfect.

    But Peter thought differently.

    He thought the marks made you beautiful. He thought they made you look strong; as if you had survived through hell and much more. Peter thought that scars were not a sign of imperfection; they were a sign of strength and beauty. He loved the scars on your body, even if you did not.

    Lifting his hand, he let the tip of his index finger trail along the scar behind your ear, dropping it to follow the short line to its end. He moved his hand again, towards another one of your scars. It was one caused by acne, a scar that you hated because it was on your face, right underneath your cheekbone.

    When you felt the tip of his finger trail across his face, you turned, watching Peter as he stared at your face. His chocolate brown orbs gazed into your eyes, taking in every feature of your face with complete and utter awe. His lips twisted into a smile as he watched you take in his features as he did to you.

    With one final look, Peter lowered his lips until they were inches away from yours, “You are so gorgeous, love.”

    You shook your head with a blush, before you leaned up to connect your lips to his. Peter responded almost immediately, his lips moving against yours. He tilted his head so that his lips could slot against yours in a smoother fashion. You groaned against his lips, moving your lips faster so that you could keep up with him. Peter moved, his back muscles shifting as he let you fall back against his bed sheets. You sighed happily, complete euphoria and love rushing over your body.

    This was Peter Parker.

    The man you had loved since the day you met him.

    The man you would love for the rest of your life.

    You moved, your back lying flat against the sheets of Peter’s bed. Your hands clutched the sides of Peter’s face, one pulling itself through his hair with a groan. Peter smiled against your lips, his contagious personality rubbing off, causing you to smile as well.

    “God, I love you,” Peter groans. His hips roll into yours for a short moment, eliciting a moan from your mouth. He continues to roll his lips into yours, sighs of happiness and love coming from both your mouths.

    To anyone other person, the scene may have looked like two people wrapped up in lust and euphoria.

    However, that was not what was happening.

    No, this was different.

    This was something bigger; something pure and beautiful. Something that no one could have predicted, a motion that most people would never achieve in their entire lives. This was something that made the stormy days brighter, and the bad days just a little bit happier. It was the sort of thing that made your stomach flutter with excitement and your heart beat just a little bit faster. It made your eyes shine brighter and your steps feel lighter. This thing made you happy, sad, and excited all at the same time; the simple mention of it made you nervous and happy all at once.

    It was love.

    This love was the feeling in your stomach when Peter mumbled how much he loved you; it was the feeling of Peter’s lips against yours. Love was the ache in your gut as Peter’s hips rolled against yours.

    And most of all, it was what you felt for Peter; and similarly, it was what he felt for you.

November Rain (Part 1)

Originally posted by rocksaroundthesuns

Characters: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 3001

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Angst, Violence Against the Reader, Swearing, Bigotry 

Summary:  After a hunt goes awry, Dean and the reader spend the night together, but was it all a mistake?

A/N:  This is my first A/B/O fic, written for @dr-dean‘s A/B/O Challenge (Happy Birthday!!).  I’ve always wanted to write one of these, so thank you so much for breaking me out of my shell.  And thank you @notnaturalanahi, for getting me out of my funk and inspired to write this, not to mention betaing it for me.  The prompt was November Rain by Guns n’Roses (one of my favorite songs, by my favorite band.)  Written using @kittenofdoomage‘s A/B/O Rules.  It got a little too long, so I’m splitting it up into two parts.  


The day you met Dean Winchester you knew he belonged to you.

It wasn’t the earth shattering electricity you’d heard True Bonds conveyed when mates touched.  It was in a smile, in a glance, in the warm, comforting knowledge that he was yours.  Just for you.

Since then, loving him had been as easy as breathing, but being with him was considerably harder.  If Dean had felt the call, he never showed it.  He worked beside you, treated you like family, but never made an advance.  And that was the true challenge of your situation, and the true burden of being an unmated Omega.

“I’ll have you know, I’m great company to most people,” Dean said, shaking you out of your thoughts.

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Telling Cas

Dean never says them back. The words.

He doesn’t whisper them when he’s got his forehead pressed against Cas’ after a long kiss he knows, he knows, he needed more than air.

He doesn’t pant them out when his face is buried in his pillow, Cas’ hand between his shoulder blades keeping him there, while the angel slowly draws his hips away only to thrust back in deep and hard, exactly how he knows Dean likes it. How Dean needs it. He does it like he wants to give Dean everything.

When Dean trails kisses, wet, sloppy, meaningful kisses up Cas’ thigh, he doesn’t murmur the words against the soft skin beneath him.

Dean doesn’t even say them when they part ways for a while because he’s got a case to work or Cas has a lead to follow.

But just because Dean never says the words doesn’t mean he never tells Cas how he feels.

Whenever they kiss passionately, after they’ve touched foreheads long enough that Dean has caught his breath, he gives Cas this look and it’s nothing but adoration.

Dean sends Cas pictures of cute animals- no, of the cutest animals- which means he regularly takes the time to riffle through what the internet has to offer, curating a string of photos just for Cas.

When Cas fucks Dean from behind, Dean chants, You’re everything. You’re everything. Cas, please. You’re everything.

There’s a tab for the American Bee Association on Dean’s computer that’s perpetually open. He still hasn’t figured out if it’s even feasible to raise bees in the bunker.

When Dean spends so long kissing his body, every inch he can get his lips on, cheeks flushed prettily and lashes fluttering, that Cas feels like the rain to Dean’s drought, the message is loud and clear.

Dean’s grin is wider than Cas has ever seen in it the first time he makes peanut butter cookies. He grumpily states that chocolate chip is the right way to go but well, whatever. His smile lingers as long as the aroma of the baking does.

When they part ways temporarily, either because Dean needs to work a case, or Cas needs to work a lead, Dean’s hand, wherever it is on Cas, linger and squeezes. Pads of fingertips brush against exposed flesh, before pulling away.

And Cas knows he is loved.

Read it on ao3

Petrichor

Characters: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 10,118

Genre: Fluff/Angst


You weren’t exactly sure when Min Yoongi had come into town.

To be quite honest, you didn’t even know when it was that he had first stepped into the coffee shop you worked at. It was hopeless attempting to remember each person who passed through the establishment, especially not when the interactions generally lasted less than a minute. The faces of the customers you encountered every single day just blended together, much like their orders of caramel macchiatos and green tea lattes. It was difficult to keep track of the cursory café connoisseurs, but you knew one thing was for certain.

He hadn’t been here before.

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5

and the pièce de résistance:

MAREANIE VARIATIONS because one was just not enough

But wait! The fun isn’t done!

Preface: due to Mareanie’s aggressive disposition, most of these breeds are already difficult to find in the wild. Nonetheless, at least one of each specimen presented has been recorded and studied, and captured if deemed necessary.

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Fragility {Part 2/3}

Originally posted by fairybcby

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader, Slight Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Photographer Yoongi AU, angst, smut

Warnings: Minor character death

“You didn’t need to completely rip yourself apart just so that Yoongi could be whole. That’s not how friendship works…That’s not how love works.”

Part 1 | Part 3


Time had passed both slowly and quickly. Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.

In reality, things were how they always had been. Your friendship with Yoongi continued like normal and he still had no clue that Hoseok had confided in you about Yoongi’s past that night.

You would meet up and go for drinks or spend days out together just walking around town and every time you would discover new parts that you hadn’t previously known existed. He had this strange ability of being able to whisk you away from your everyday life and he helped you to see the beauty in even the most mundane of things. There really wasn’t anyone like him.

He would always bring his camera and your eyes had quickly grown adjusted to the intense white flash that would often pour out from it.

On the surface, everything seemed perfect.

However, in your mid a perpetual hurricane raged on. You tried to calm it, you tried to gather your emotions and keep yourself stable but it was to no avail. You had hoped whatever it was you thought you felt towards Yoongi would quickly fade away. You’d longed for it to be nothing more than a short lived infatuation.  Yet, if anything, your feelings had only amplified. Every time you saw him smile it was as if another piece of you fell in love with him.

Everyday you would remind tell yourself that just being able to stand by his side was enough.You were well aware of how lucky you were. So on a rainy Tuesday as you walked through town after a night of helplessly watching various girls try to hit on Yoongi, you tried to convince yourself that everything was fine. He had turned them all down of course, he was as highly selective as ever. That didn’t stop the terrible feeling of jealously that consumed you every time he paid even a little bit of attention to one of them, the toxic emotion would thick and heavy through your veins, weighing your body down.

Small droplets of rain landed on your face and slowly slid down your skin. You could feel your hair and clothing becoming damp and uncomfortable, the cotton fabric was clinging to your body unpleasantly making you feel constricted. If Yoongi was here he would have scolded you for being so careless as to go outside with no umbrella despite knowing how bad the weather forecast was.

You veered off down one of the smaller side streets, the canopy of branches and leaves above now somewhat sheltering you from the weather that continued to rage of violently. Pulling your coat a little tighter around your body you broke out into a slow run. You didn’t even need to look where you were going, your legs would take you there automatically, as if it was an instinct hardwired into your DNA. By this point perhaps it was.

Yoongi’s house always looked the same, narrow, two storeys built in orange brick, with ugly black guttering running down the sides and across the top that stuck out like a sore thumb. The windows seemed to be perpetually dirty even though he insisted that he did clean them once a month.

The place was cheap and unrefined, but it was more like home to you than even your parent’s house was.

The door was unlocked so without knocking you swung it open and immediately stepped into the comforting warmth of his hallway. Some camera equipment and lighting lay in black bags on the grubby linoleum floor along with a large pile of shoes, all belonging to Yoongi of course.

“Yoongi, you here?” you called out after a few moments of silence, if he was in you couldn’t hear any signs of him lurking around somewhere.

You pulled your shoes off and dumped them in one of the corners of the room before hugging your arms to your chest, your body was still shaking from the bitter coldness of outside.

“I’m up here,” he finally replied, voice echoing down the stairs.

He sounded tired. There was a certain way he talked when he’d had a sleepless night, his words would be slower and voice rougher and it was irritatingly sexy.

You ascended up the stairs and barged your way into the bedroom.

The curtains were drawn so that any natural light was completely blocked out, but you knew better than to insist on opening them, he’d always hiss and complain when you tried. He sat hunched over his laptop furiously typing, fingers practically moving at the speed of light and he was so absorbed in what he was doing you don’t think he’d even heard you enter.

His hair hung down over his eyes and you could tell that he hadn’t brushed it in awhile, purple circles hung underneath his eyes and his lips looked chewed up and cracked. Yet you were so far gone that even in this state, you thought he looked absolutely beautiful.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch me like a creep all day?” he asked with a smirk, finally looking up from his laptop screen, “Also don’t expect me to sympathise with you because you’re cold and wet, you’re the one that was too stupid to remember to take an umbrella with you today.”

“Shut up.”

He moved over a little to make room as you sat down on the bed, you curiously peered at his laptop screen to see that he appeared to be writing some sort of essay. The word count was on 4,035.

“Did the genius Min Yoongi really leave an essay ‘til the last minute?” you asked playfully and without even looking away from the laptop he moved his hand and lightly hit you on your upper arm. You giggled before slumping down a little to get more comfortable. The pattering of his fingertips against the keys was oddly relaxing, he typed so fluidly, with no hesitation, as if he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

You remained quiet, just enjoying the feeling of him being next to you. That was something you treasured about the relationship you’d built with him, you were so comfortable around each other that you didn’t feel the need to talk all the time. 

When the sound of the typing finally ceased he snapped shut his laptop and turned to finally look at you properly. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said pointedly. You looked up from your phone and saw that the expression plastered across his face was one of seriousness, so immediately, you put it away in your pocket and sat up.

“What’s up?”

From the way he fidgeted and gripped the sheets in his large fists, you could tell he was a little anxious. This in turn roused feelings of nervousness within you, if Yoongi wanted to say something he would usually say it with no hesitation, with hardly any hints of emotion.

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1. Iwatobi Swim Club Appreciation Party
High☆Speed! Free! Starting Days Special Event Premium CD
1. Iwatobi Swim Club Appreciation Party

TRACK 1 || TRACK 2 || TRACK 3 || TRACK 4
Thank you @aliasanonyme for the audio clip!

TRANSLATION

Asahi: There! Alright, gonna swim to our heart’s content again today!

Makoto: Asahi, you really are spirited. Aren’t you tired from the time trial yesterday?

Asahi: What are you talking about!? I was so excited since yesterday I couldn’t contain myself the whole night at home, it was awful! Like Sis was totally yelling at me for being loud and stuff.

Ikuya: You’re such a muscle-brain.

Asahi: What the hell!? Didn’t you also say “I’ll definitely swim faster!” yesterday!?

Ikua: …! I did say that, but…

Asahi: And anyway, you’re good at long distance swimming, right? Isn’t it a little too soon for you to be exhausted?

Ikuya: They are different things.

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“I could search the world, nobody is better than you!” is some next-level Pride and Prejudice type shit tho.

Like I get that this is shouted at Viktor while he’s doing naked stretches on a local monument and That’s Ridiculous, but this could just as easily have been murmured on a moor somewhere. Words said so quietly they have trouble even crossing the intimate space between where Yuuri’s body ends and Viktor’s begins, rain pouring down around them. Yuuri takes off his glove and presses his fingers to Viktor’s cheek for the first time. Skin-to-skin. The headiest and most erotic thing either of them has ever experienced.

“I could search the world,” Yuuri says, gut stirred by the simple sensation of Viktor’s smooth cheek against his hand. “Nobody is better than you. My feelings for you are…most ardent and unequaled. I have never felt for anyone else what I feel for you, and don’t care to. I understand that our misunderstanding was in some part my fault, but please do not let this sour your opinion of me, for you are the man I hope to someday make my husband.” Viktor’s eyes widen, ice on a clear lake. Yuuri doesn’t wait for him to speak. “These are not emotions I take lightly, Mister Nikiforov. They have consumed my mind and my person for years, and will continue to do so until I hear your response. Please, think on my proposal.”

Yuuri turns to go–he does not expect the firm, elegant grip that pulls him back by his wrist.

“I have thought about it,” Viktor tells him, silver hair sopping with rainwater. Even here, soaked and mused, he is beautiful. “My answer is yes. Yes, of course. I consent to your courtship.”

Yuuri feels the smile bloom onto his face, almost entirely without his own command. “An understanding, then,” he murmurs, disengaging his wrist from Viktor’s hand, but only to take it in his own.

“Yes,” Viktor says. “An understanding.”

There is a language older by far and deeper than words. It is the language of bodies, of body on body, wind on snow, rain on trees, wave on stone. It is the language of dream, gesture, symbol, memory. We have forgotten this language. We do not even remember that it exists.
—  Derrick Jensen, A Language Older Than Words

1. It’s ok to be sad. Don’t ignore it. Don’t feel guilty for being sad. It reminds you that you feel and that you’re alive.

2. Remind yourself of the times you felt this way. It’s ok to rest after a fall. Give yourself time to regain the energy to pick yourself back up.

3. Do not ever hide parts of yourselves just to be accepted. It’s better to be alone than to pretend to be someone you’re not just to feel worthwhile.

4. It’s ok if people leave once you do so. You’ll be glad that they did. And you’ll appreciate the ones that stayed.

5. Self love also means accepting your shortcomings and admitting your wrongdoings. Accept that you can be short tempered at times. However, it’s not an excuse. Apologise when you hurt others. Be a better version of yourself.

6. Accept your physical quirks. Love your frizzy hair, your scars, your stretch marks. They are a part of you. You have your father’s hair. Your scars shows your resilience. Your stretch marks are evidence of growth. Embrace them.

7. Take time off when you need to. Brush your hair. Put some lip balm on. Wash your face. Sometimes, cleaning your body can also clear your mind. Even for a little while.

8. If you don’t achieve your goals, it’s ok. You tried your best. You tried even when your heart and body was heavy. And if you didn’t, see it as a lesson learnt. Just try again. Don’t let it bring you down.

9. Find little joys in life. Appreciate the sun rays peeking through your window. The sound of rain. Finding new music. Laughter. A smile.

10. Learn how to love your own company. Ride your bike around the neighbourhood. Watch a movie by yourself. Shop by yourself. Eat by yourself. You’ll find out that no matter what, you will always have yourself.

11. Know when to let go of a fading friendship. Then appreciate the good times. But accept that it was in the past and you’re both different people now.

12. Instigate meetings with your friends once in a while. Then ask them how they are. Don’t be afraid to talk about emotions. Learn how to open up but also learn how to listen. You don’t need to give advice, offering your shoulder can be enough.

13. Don’t be afraid to try new things. If you didn’t like it, remember that it’s better to regret doing something than wondering about the ‘what if’s’.

14. If you make a mistake, see it as a chance to learn. To grow. To improve. Don’t let it bring you down.

15. If you feel good in it, you’ll look good in it.

16. Compliment someone without comparing yourself to them. Appreciate the beauty of others without undermining yours.

17. Know that you are the only one that can have a say on what happens to your body. If you want to get a tattoo (and it’s legal), if you want a piercing, if you want to dye your hair, do it. Because you want to. You don’t need anyone else’s permission.

18. Remind the important people in your life how much you care for them. A little “thanks for everything” or a small text of appreciation can be enough.

—  Things I’ve learnt by 18 (but I’ve still got more to learn)