no matter the trouble that you meet

February Horoscopes

ARIES: Take a nice, firm grab of the dial that controls your aggressiveness and crank it way down. You can relax a little bit and still be able to defend yourself (this of course does not apply if someone crosses the line, then you have every right to be as aggressive as you’d like (however maybe the line needs to be redrawn because you have a tendency to get upset over very small things)). Don’t forget to breathe every once in a while. Things can work themselves out without you getting worked up.

TAURUS: Remember that not everyone is out to get you, Taurus. Yes, there are people in this world with bad intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can just push someone away because you’re suspicious of them. Talk to those individuals. Don’t jump to conclusions and assume that they aren’t good people; you might lose someone who really only ever wanted what was best for you.

GEMINI: Time to take a pair of metaphorical scissors and snip the negativity out of your life! If you know someone is dragging you down rather than supporting you and building you up, say sayonara!

CANCER: You know that thing that you want to do but you might be too afraid to do? Do it. All experiences, good or bad, are still experiences. Take a risk every now and then! Ask that person out! Put your application in! You can do it.

LEO: Try looking at things a new way this month, Leo. You might be in the midst of a problem or you might be trying to reach a goal you’ve set, and things are just not working out no matter how hard you try. Take a step back and try a new route. Do something different if what you’re doing right now isn’t making you successful.

VIRGO: You may not be meeting all of your own expectations right now, and that’s okay. This month focus on persisting through your troubles. Keep your chin up, Virgo. Good things are on their way.

LIBRA: Libra, you sort of have a tendency to be very good at picking out problems and flaws, and then doing nothing about them. Take a stand and start fixing things that you don’t like, whether it be with the world or within yourself. Email your senator. Attend a march. Donate money. Accept criticism. You can literally do anything that you think you can do.

SCORPIO: This month remember that not all relationships that you create have to be romantic. Creating a bond or a connection with another individual does not mean that by default that you have to be in love with that person. Cherish your friends and don’t focus on romance at the moment. 

SAGITTARIUS: Embrace your emotions this month. If you need to cry, then cry. If you need to scream, then scream. If you need someone to talk to, then find someone you can trust. Do not ever be ashamed of the way you feel.

CAPRICORN: Decisiveness is key. You may find yourself unable to choose between this and that, but you have to learn to make tough decisions, especially under pressure. Don’t let a decision keep you up at night. Do what you feel is right and good is bound to come of it.

AQUARIUS: Seek out some counsel this February. There are plenty of people in your circle willing to listen to you, you just have to speak. Focus on your needs instead of everyone else’s. You are a wonderful listener, and now it’s your turn to be listened to.

PISCES: Break out of your shell a little bit this month. You don’t have to do anything insanely drastic, but maybe inviting someone new over for a movie, or simply messaging someone you’ve never talked to before to get to know them. You have a very intriguing air about you, Pisces, and whether you believe it or not people do want to be your friend.

Secrets of the Signs

Aries: Can’t handle fighting and losing people. They act like they’re happy to let people go, but in reality they regret fighting and want those people back, they hate loosing people that mean something to them.

Taurus: Is afraid that no one actually wants them around, and that they’re easily forgotten about to the people who mean the most to them, is constantly wondering if they mean anything to anyone.

Gemini: They try so hard to fit in and be friends with everyone they change who they are themselves, but would rather change than be alone, because being alone is extremely scary to them.

Cancer: Tries to act happy all the time. They feel like if they let others see them upset, they’re disappointing them. Needs to make sure everyone around them doesn’t worry about them, no matter what the cost.

Leo: Believes they are unlovable and that everything that goes wrong is their fault. They try to act tough and like they don’t care, but deep inside, they are probably the most sensitive person you will ever Meet.

Virgo: Has trouble handling life. They may seem like they have everything under control and in order, but in reality they have trouble making it every hour of the day. It’s hard for them to stay positive.

Libra: Can’t be without a lover because they need to invest time in others so they don’t have to focus on themselves. Hates having to deal with their own problems so they hide them and pretend everything is fine.

Scorpio: Is scared of getting close to people. They love being trusted by others but have a hard time trusting others. Are afraid one day this will push everyone away but they don’t know how to fix it.

Sagittarius: Wants only love and to be loved. When they aren’t with someone, they start to feel hopeless and like they aren’t good enough for anyone.

Capricorn: Invests themselves in trying to get to the top, so they tend to not have deep connections with anyone. They’re afraid because of this that they’ll be alone forever.

Aquarius: Doesn’t feel emotions like they think they should. They get into relationships and don’t feel anything for awhile, and because of this they believe there’s something wrong with them and hate themselves for it.

Pisces: Actually has no idea what they’re doing in life and day dreams to make themselves feel better. Is lost and confused but acts like they have everything under control and hates asking for help.

Can We Still Be Alone? (NSFW 18+)

A/N: This was inspired by two songs Windswept by Crywolf and Daning On My Own By Robyn (the Hunter Plake and Jack Cassidy version). When I heard them the ideas just started flowing. This is very different from anything I have written. I had @minhosmeanhoe on my mind as I wrote this. Not for any particular reason, she’s just my actual soulmate so I’m dedicating this to her. I really hope you guys like this (: Also, I’m pretty sure I proofread this! (Pretty sure)

Paring: StilesxReader

Warnings: Smut 

Word Count: 4988

Originally posted by fragileheartxxx

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i find it so remarkable how even uses movie references and how much those movie references tells us about him and his past.

even used to have a crush on mikael, a crush that was totally one sided. a crush that made him look at his love for boys as a romeo + juliet reference, how his love wasn’t allowed and that one of the two had to die. because in his mind that was the only possible outcome, how he thought it was meant to be. his love for mikael was a romeo + juliet reference.

then even meets isak who in the beginning seems to follow the same path and even once again thinks that his love for boys will be like one big romeo + juliet reference, but then something changes and even realises that it maybe doesn’t have to be like that. how you can work through troubles no matter what your differences are. if you are willing to fight for it then you are able to go through it, together.

with isak it’s no longer a romeo + juliet reference, it’s a pretty woman reference. a movie in which the two main characters get happily together in the end, because that is what he sees with isak. he sees a happy ending.

February Horoscopes

ARIES: Take a nice, firm grab of the dial that controls your aggressiveness and crank it way down. You can relax a little bit and still be able to defend yourself (this of course does not apply if someone crosses the line, then you have every right to be as aggressive as you’d like (however maybe the line needs to be redrawn because you have a tendency to get upset over very small things)). Don’t forget to breathe every once in a while. Things can work themselves out without you getting worked up.

TAURUS: Remember that not everyone is out to get you, Taurus. Yes, there are people in this world with bad intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can just push someone away because you’re suspicious of them. Talk to those individuals. Don’t jump to conclusions and assume that they aren’t good people; you might lose someone who really only ever wanted what was best for you.

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Imagine you tried to rob a wizard's tower

The cold stone walls close in on you. There’s fresh, clean straw under you and an empty bucket in one corner. A torch burns resolutely in the hallway. You knew this was a stupid idea. One of the boys in your village convinced you that the wizard is a fraud, that his potions are sugar water and his magical talismans are useless bits of junk. The boy dared you to sneak into the wizard’s tower, steal something, and bring it back. You agreed, but mostly to shut him up. You’re not afraid of the wizard or his alleged power. There’s no such thing as magic, after all.

The wizard’s tower was just outside of the village, at the edge of the forest. If it had any kind of guards or defenders, you’d never seen them. You snuck in through a crack in the wall and looked through shelves of bones and crystals and things you couldn’t even identify, searching for something small enough to slip into your pocket. You were startled by a noise behind you, and even more startled when you turned to look at the source. A little humanlike figure, about the size of a pigeon, sat perched on a shelf and grinned at you. It spread out its batlike wings and said something in a language you’d never heard, a few syllables that echoed strangely in the small room. Everything went black, and when you woke up, you were in a cell.

So here you are, imprisoned. There’s a man looking at you through the barred door. He’s a short and slight, with a neatly trimmed beard. You’ve seen him before, hawking the wizard’s wares in the village market, all smiles and lofty promises as he peddled healing potions and fertility charms. He is not smiling now.

“Why did you invade my tower?” he asks. “Go on, let’s hear it.”

You’ve always assumed that he was actually the wizard’s assistant, or just a hireling. He looks nothing like you’ve always pictured wizards. He’s wearing a look of extreme annoyance and the kind of tunic and trousers that wouldn’t look out of place on the village innkeeper. You don’t know what you expected. Elaborate robes and a long gray beard. For some unknowable reason, you’re unwise enough to say so.

“The robes are only for ceremonial use,” he says. “They are dreadfully uncomfortable. I can’t be bothered to wear them all the time. You break into my home, and now you expect me to walk around draped in all that nonsense just to meet your expectations?”

Lost for words, you can only shake your head.

“And what about you?” he asks, crossing his arms. “Why are you here? I warn you, I won’t take pity on you no matter how heartrending your story is. Your mother’s dying from some horrible disease the healers have never seen before? Is it your sister? Are your crops failing? I rather liked the thief who said he needed a lucky charm so he could win enough gold to pay off his gambling debts. I can imagine how he got into trouble in the first place.”

“A boy in the village dared me,” you admit, and your voice comes out as little more than a whisper. It sounds pathetic even to you. Your heart is pounding and if you weren’t still on the ground, you’d probably collapse anyway. “I only said yes so he’d shut up. I didn’t even take anything. I swear, I’ll never come here again-” You trail off as the words die in your throat.

The wizard closes his eyes and sighs deeply. “Those charms I sell in the market? Those are mere trinkets,” he says. “Little things to keep the villagers happy. You have no idea what I can really do. If you ran off with something really dangerous, you could unleash horrors you can’t even imagine. I mean hellfire raining from the skies, cattle transforming into ravenous beasts. And that would be the least of it. You could end the world.”

“I’m sorry,” you try to say, but it just comes out as a squeaking noise.

He’s still glaring at you, but something in his expression actually seems to soften a little. “Still, you’re honest,” he says. “That’s a rare trait.”

“Are you going to let me go?” you ask.

The little winged creature is sitting on his shoulder. It chitters at you and draws one slender finger across its throat.

The wizard smiles coldly. “Eventually,” he says. “I can’t let intruders just run off on their merry way. You might decide to pay me a return visit. Or tell someone that I’m soft on thievery.” He pulls a bottle out of his pocket and holds it up to the bars. It’s clear glass, with a cork trapping some clear reddish liquid inside. “Here’s the deal. Drink this, endure what’s going to happen to you, and then you can go. Don’t drink it, and you’ll stay locked in this cell forever or until I find another use for you and all those delightful organs of yours. You would not believe what you can do with a human spleen.”

You hesitate. “Endure” is a very scary word, considering your current situation. But he did promise to let you go, and whatever that potion does can’t be worse than staying locked up forever. At least, you hope not.

The potion bottle clinks against cold iron as you pull it through the bars.. It’s heavier than it looks. “What is it?” you ask, studying the contents. “What’s going to happen to me if I drink this?”

“And ruin the surprise? It will hurt,” he says. “It won’t kill you. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have bothered with the cell or dangling the thought of freedom out in front of you. I’m not that sadistic. Well, I am. But only sometimes.”

It’s still not very reassuring, but what he’s saying makes sense. He hasn’t hurt you so far, besides locking you up. And to be honest, taking his offer is the best option you have available. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll drink it. And then do you swear by the Light that you’ll let me go?”

The wizard is quiet for a moment. “The Light and I are not on particularly good terms,” he says. “But if it puts you more at ease, I swear by the Light that I’ll release you alive and unharmed.”

Somehow, it doesn’t put you at ease at all. But you believe him.

You try to open the potion bottle. The cork’s wedged in tightly and your hands are shaking too hard to pull it out. The little winged creature flutters off the wizard’s shoulder, flies right through the door, and lands beside you. Its agile fingers work the cork out easily, and the creature holds the bottle out to you expectantly. The potion smells like herbs and something you can’t quite identify.

“My familiar will have to stay here to keep you company,” says the wizard. “I can see through its eyes, and it is rather stronger than it appears. I’d advise against trying anything. Now, drink that so I can get back to work.”

Closing your eyes, you swallow the bottle’s contents. It tastes overly sweet and your throat tingles afterwards. You’re tingling all over, actually, and you can feel something shifting deep inside of you. There’s a twinge of pain deep in your belly. “What did I just drink?” you ask, trying to fight off a feeling of impending doom. “What’s happening to me?”

The wizard’s already setting off down the hallway. “You’ll see,” is all he says.


The familiar can’t seem to sit still. It paces up and down the length of your cell, occasionally flying out through the walls and back again. Whenever you try the walls they’re solid rock; the familiar must be able to pass through them magically. Once, you get up to try the door but the familiar just chitters at you menacingly. You sit back down and try to ignore the growing ache in your belly.

It started out as a mild annoyance, so slight you thought you were imagining it. Now it feels like someone’s punched you in the belly; not hard, but it hurts enough to be distracting. It feels like hours have passed but aside from the stomachache, nothing else seems to be happening to you. Maybe the potion really was sugar water after all. Or maybe it just didn’t work. You hope it didn’t work. Then the wizard’ll have to let you go just like he promised, right?

Your clothes are getting tighter around your middle. That’s odd. As you reach down to put a hand on your stomach, an icy rush of panic fills you. Your belly’s growing. It’s slow at first, but it soon starts growing faster. Eventually you have to strip out of your clothes just to make room for your new bulk. Once, a woman in the village gave birth to twins, and you’re bigger now than she ever was. You sit with your back against the cold stone wall and watch as you grow bigger and bigger, pinned beneath your own growing belly. Whatever’s inside you, it’s so heavy that you’re not sure you could stand up if you tried to. You run your hands over your belly, oddly fascinated by the feeling of it under your fingers. Your curiosity almost overcomes the fear.

Something slick is running out of you and down your legs to pool in the straw bedding. You wonder what’s inside you, and if it’s close to being born. Some kind of creature? You’ve heard that pregnant women can feel their babies moving, but you don’t feel anything besides a steadily growing weight. So maybe it’s not a creature.

That’s almost comforting. You’ve been imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios. Now you don’t need to worry that there’s some sort of demon beast about to claw its way out of you. Well, you weren’t worried about that before. You’re a little worried now.

All at once you feel a rush of fluid and some immense weight slipping into your passage. All your other thoughts vanish. There’s something inside you and you need to get it out, that’s all you know. You push, but you feel like the thing inside you is barely moving at all. You whimper in pain as you push harder, and you think you can feel it just barely inching its way down your passage.

You can feel your skin bulge outwards as the thing moves downwards one agonizing push at a time. The wizard said it would hurt, but this is so much worse than you feared. You feel tears streaming down your face as you try to force the thing out. You can feel it straining for release at your entrance. It’s barely half out and it’s already stretching you impossibly wide. By the Light, it feels like you’re going to split open. But you don’t, and you watch dumbfounded as an egg slides out of you.

An egg. You’re being held prisoner by a sadistic wizard, and he’s forcing you to lay eggs. It would be almost funny if you weren’t in so much pain right now. You let out a groan as another one enters your passage, begging you to squeeze it out. Again, you start to push, and again, you feel like the egg is barely moving at all. You scream, but it dissolves into helpless sobbing.

This is impossible. That first egg felt bigger than anything you could possibly squeeze out, and who knows how many more you have inside you? The wizard said he’d release you “eventually”. What does that even mean? How long does he expect to keep you here? Hours? Days? Weeks?

The familiar picks up your egg and flies out of the cell with it, apparently having no trouble carrying an object bigger than itself. You wonder where they’re going, what the wizard intends for these eggs. But then you need to push again and the effort drives everything else out of your mind.

The second doesn’t come much easier, but after another exhausting ordeal an egg drops out of you and onto the straw below. And, again, the familiar scoops it up and flies off with it to who knows where. You feel a third egg enter your passage. Then a fourth, a fifth. You’re losing count. All you can do is keep laying eggs and pray that there’s an end in sight.

They start coming faster and faster. After you birth each egg you barely have time to catch your breath before the next one starts working its way out. You barely noticed it through the haze of pain but now you realize that your belly hasn’t been shrinking. In fact, it’s growing. New eggs are forming inside you faster than you can push them out.

A horrible thought occurs to you.

“When I lay them all, that’s it?” you ask the familiar, between gasps. “He’ll let me go?”

The familiar nods excitedly.

“But-” You thought you were out of tears but now you can feel more welling up. You just keep growing more. You’ve been tricked. The wizard lied. He’s never going to let you go. You’ll just stay here in this cell forever, spewing out eggs until you die, wondering when the tide will finally stop. Your throat’s already hoarse, but you scream as another egg starts to slide down your passage.


You cry in relief when you notice that your belly is finally shrinking. By the end, the eggs just slide out of you with no resistance; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. Your hole is stretched beyond recognition and every part of you hurts. You lie there in the straw, too spent to move. “Please, let it be over,” you whisper. You’ll never steal anything ever again. You’ll go to the Chapel of the Light every Sun’s Day and pray for forgiveness. You’ll kill the bastard who dared you to come here in the first place.

The wizard steps into view in the hallway as his familiar carries the last egg away. “Normally I give my guests a second or third dose of the ovigenesis potion,” he says, by way of greeting. “But, well, you were honest with me. If you like, you can have this instead.”

The potion in his hands now is one you recognize. It’s one of the milky-pink healing potions he sells in the marketplace. He offers it to you and you drink it down without an argument. It takes effect almost instantly. Your pain fades and you can feel your poor, abused muscles repairing themselves. In a few minutes you feel almost as good as new. Almost.

You were too exhausted to realize that you’re still naked. Naked in front of a strange man who has you locked in a cell. Reflexively, you cover yourself.

The wizard chuckles a little. “I can see through my familiar’s eyes, remember? I’ve seen all you have to offer and I have no prurient interest in your body. To me, you’re just a source of raw materials.”

You really don’t like the way he says that. Your hands stay where they are and you look over at your discarded clothing. Your discarded, wet clothing. Ugh.

“I can clean the…assorted fluids out of your clothes. You know, with magic.” He mutters something and waves his hands. The familiar neatly folds your clothes and lays them on a dry patch of straw. “There we go. Do you have any other pressing needs? A glass of water, perhaps?”

You answer no. Actually, you’d love a cold drink of water right now but besides the healing potion, you’re not sure you’d feel safe drinking anything he might offer you.

The wizard shrugs. “As I promised, you’re alive and unharmed. Mostly unharmed, at least. My healing potion will take care of that. I’m sure you can feel it working already. When you’ve recovered, you can leave.” He turns and walks off into the darkened hallways.

Strength returns to your body and your poor, abused hole even starts to close up. When you feel confident that you can stand without falling over, you dress yourself and follow the chittering familiar out through the wizard’s dungeons. You head out through the tower’s front doors and into the night. Outside, the breeze smells sweeter than the finest perfume. You stagger home and collapse into your bed, sleeping soundly until well into the afternoon.


You never go near the tower again. The village boy shows up at your house the next day and asks what happened. You’re tempted to punch him, but you don’t have the strength. Instead, you tell him to fuck off as viciously as you can manage. He doesn’t bother you again.

But it doesn’t quite end there. You try to avoid the wizard’s stall on market days but somehow he’s always right in your path, and he always greets you with a wide smile and a cheerful “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer!” Sometimes, he tries to offer you a very familiar red potion. Your heart stops when you see it, but then he gives you a wink and slips the bottle back into some hidden pocket.

Lately he’s been selling “dragon’s egg” potions and carved amulets. Whenever you see them set out and glinting in the sunlight, you ache somewhere deep inside. You’re sure those eggs didn’t come out of any dragon, but you can never work up the nerve to ask.

You develop a profound sense of appreciation for chickens and egg-laying creatures of all kinds. You can never look at an omelette the same way again.

And it turns out that the potion never truly wore off. Once every few months, you’re awakened in the middle of the night by a sharp pain in your abdomen. The wizard’s familiar swoops in as you push a giant egg out of yourself, cackling to itself as it watches you strain. Laying the egg is always worse than you remember; every push feels useless, like the egg’s trying to cling to your insides out of sheer spite. Eventually it crowns and then slides out, leaving a void where your insides were stretched around it.

Every time, you wonder if this egg will really be the last one. Every time, you ask the familiar to tell the wizard you’re sorry, you never meant any harm, and can he fix what the potion did to you?

The familiar just grins at you and flies off into the night, holding your newborn egg in its arms.

(Hi! I’m deepoceanblue and when I sat down at my computer, this happened. Thanks for reading <3)

Mr. Min - Chapter 05 Preview 02

Hoseok returned with two more bottles of beer and managed to keep the conversation away from what was bothering Yoongi until he had nearly finished the first bottle. “Alright,” he said with a sigh and adjusted himself in his seat to get more comfortable, “let’s hear it. What’s going on with you?”
Yoongi rubbed his hand over his face with an annoyed sigh. “That’s just the thing,” he said with a resigned laugh, “I don’t even know what is wrong.”

“Well that’s helpful,” Hoseok said with a bright laugh. Leave it to him to always find the humor in a situation even when Yoongi’s thoughts were all bleak.

“I’m not sleeping much lately,” Yoongi finally answered with a shrug, as if the admission meant nothing. “I thought it was that I have been drinking too much coffee but I haven’t had any in days and still can’t sleep.”

Hoseok’s brows furrowed and the edges of his lips cast downwards as he studied his friend again. “How long has that been going on?”

“Since earlier this week. It started the night of that party the company threw for the anniversary.“

“That’s awfully specific. What happened that night?”

Yoongi’s mind flashed back to your eyes shining in the light with impending tears, smeared mascara across your cheeks, and the way you looked at him as if he wasn’t even human. He cleared his throat and shook his head to try to rid himself of the unwanted image that had haunted him since that night. “Nothing much,” he finally muttered and took another sip of his drink.

“Uh huh,” Hoseok said in a tone that conveyed his disbelief. “You know, if I charged you like a therapist I wouldn’t even have to work. You’re so repressed that you could be my only client and I could charge you for every hour you sit in front of me and say ‘I’m fine’ or ‘nothing is wrong’. I’m in the wrong field clearly.”

"There was a little fight that night,” Yoongi finally admitted with a groan, “but really, honestly, it hasn’t been bothering me.”

"I’m curious, does it ever work?”

Yoongi brought his eyes away from his drink to look at Hoseok and wrinkled his brows in confusion. “Does what work?”

“Lying to yourself like that. ‘It hasn’t been bothering me’ you say as you reek of booze and admit that you can’t sleep. I’ve known you my entire life, Yoongi, and I can’t say that I have ever seen you admit that you had a problem. So if you are content with living your life feeling whatever the hell it is that is going on in your mind right now instead of just facing what is troubling you then by all means continue to ignore your problems,” Hoseok sighed and leaned back in his chair to study the other patrons of the bar. He waited for Yoongi to say something, anything, to refute his observation. When the older man remained quiet and merely left his gaze on Hoseok, who stubbornly refused to meet his stare though he knew his friend well enough to have predicted it, he continued. “So why don’t you start with who the fight was with?”

"I don’t see why it matters.”

"Well, I’m not a doctor but stress usually factors into not being able to sleep. Maybe you can’t relax because of this fight.”

"It was with an employee of mine. It really hasn’t been bothering me,” Yoongi said and finished the rest of his drink. He had lost count of exactly how much he had drank and couldn’t remember the last time he had let himself get to such a state.

Hoseok let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes before he took another swig of his beer. “Well if you aren’t going to tell me about it then just go sleep with that girl you’ve been fucking. That should wear you out enough to go to sleep, right?”

Yoongi bristled and rolled his empty tumbler between his fingers. “I can’t.”

"Why’s that? Did you finally break off your agreement with her?”


"Oh so she did? It’s about time. I can’t believe she agreed to be your sex slave in the first place. What kind of woman doesn’t have a problem with that,” Hoseok said with a laugh.

Yoongi took a sharp breath and tried to ignore the way his chest tightened with the way Hoseok spoke about you. “That isn’t it either. I can’t fuck her because she was who I fought with that night.”

He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table to get as close as he could to Yoongi, a sinister smile on his face. “Now it’s getting interesting. So what was it that caused the fight between you and your fuck doll?”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what happened in that moment but something inside of him burst. He could feel it, first in his chest as a sudden heat, then in his hands as they tightened around his glass tumbler before finally finding release through his throat. “Don’t call her that,” Yoongi growled. Hoseok paused only for a second in surprise before his eyes widened and suddenly his twisted smile had grown and he exposed every tooth in his mouth. Yoongi wanted to punch him and his stupid smile at that moment.

“So that’s what this is about!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Yoongi snapped and looked around towards the bartender only to see a slew of people surrounding the man. “I need another drink. Why the fuck is the bar so busy?”

“You like her,” Hoseok said with an awestruck tone.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yoongi said brusquely.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok whispered, completely ignoring his friend.

“Just for that this one is now mine,” Yoongi said with a glare and grabbed the second beer bottle Hoseok had bought. He pulled the top off and took a sip before giving an exaggerated sigh, “so refreshing.”

“Min Yoongi is capable of feelings stemming from somewhere other than his dick,” Hoseok muttered to himself in disbelief.

Trapped (Part 1)

Genre: Angst, Smut, University!AU

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Jungkook (Ft. Members of Got7)

Requested: No

Word Count: 2,980

Summary: No matter how bad he hurt you, you always went back to him.

Author’s Note: This was an idea I had come up with a few weeks ago but hadn’t been able to publish bc I got stuck on a certain part for a VERY long time ;-; Also Jungkook isn’t in this part but he will show up soon.

(Part 1) | (Part 2) | (Part 3)

Originally posted by prince-chanyeol

Jimin exhaled a breath, his shoulders heaving as his eyes took in your disheveled state. It was obvious to anyone who laid eyes on you that you hadn’t gotten any sleep. Rather your night was spent shedding tears as Jimin held you closely, uttering sweet words of comfort in your ear. Jimin didn’t want to leave your side even as you attempted to push him out your door, insisting he should get some sleep. Reluctantly, Jimin took his leave, hearing the sound of the door shutting behind him.

Jimin shook his head, knowing there was nothing he could do to alleviate the pain you were experiencing. All he could do was be there when you needed a shoulder to cry on.

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Hail Mary, Part VII

Premise: What if Jamie and Claire had 1) been more openly affectionate in those early days, and 2) not *had* to get married?

Part I  Part II  Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Hail Mary: Part VII

“No, no, no, wait, hold—HOLD ON—” I wheezed, laughing so hard I could feel tears forming. “I WILL get this right, damn it!”

I could feel him shaking with laughter (his AND mine) his head bobbing like a cork on my lap. “Sixth time’ll do it, aye?” 

“FIFTH, you ginger arse!”

We were heaped on a pallet of old blankets and feather mattresses in a garrett alcove high in the castle eaves, the kind of place where odds and ends tended to get thrown and then forgotten; the kind of place two lovers could easily be forgotten, too.

Lovers. I still couldn’t believe it, any of it: the pain and aching of the weeks of silence between us; then that furious night in his room—the fury of his pain, the agony and release of my revelations, the exquisite joy of taking him into my arms and knowing all was well. This man, strong and kind, gentle and deadly in one, still loved me, and he wanted to spend his life with me. I ached now from happiness, from the unreasonable perfection of the life that I’d been granted; ached with happiness that there was now utter truth between us, nothing held back. Not even silliness.

“Alright, ALRIGHT, here goes.” I took a deep breath, my lips still quivering with laugher, and looked him in the eye, ticking off each word on my fingers. “JAMES….”

“Aye,” he grinned, blue eyes sparkling, “ye’ve got that one well down.”  

I stuck out my tongue at him before continuing intently. “James…ALEXANDER…” Here’s the tricky one. “M—Mmmmmm—?” I screwed up my face, raising my eyebrows as I said slowly, “Mmmm….acccK—?”

He grinned and gave the tiniest shake of his head

“—K-ALLLLLCOLM MACKENZIE FRASER!!” I finished in a slur of triumph.

“Well done, lass,” he laughed and turned on his side toward me, his cheek on my thigh. “Now ye ken who I am, we can be marrit!”

I did know who he was, no matter what name he went by. And if I’d been a little hazy on trivial details before, we had spent the last hour learning each others’ histories and families. Still, it was certainly good to know the true name of my husband-to-be. I smoothed his cinnamon curls back from his face, reciting more softly. “James….Alexander… Malcolm….MacKenzie….Fraser.” He had his eyes closed, following my touch with small, contented hums. “It’s a beautiful name, Jamie.”

He smiled. “Common enough, but it’s served me well, thusfar.”

“Fraser,” I repeated. “Claire Fraser.”

He opened his eyes, such feeling and joy written there. “Now, that is a beautiful name.”

“I rather like it too. Though, you know, in my own time, some women are starting to keep their own last names after they marry.”

He blinked. “Is….If that’s what ye wish—”

“No, no,” I said quickly, squeezing his shoulder with a laugh. “I don’t. I want to share a name with you.”

He smiled, that sweet, sleepy, boyish smile. “Then I shall count it a gift. A gift from my beloved, who is, herself, the greatest gift of my life.”

Bloody charmer. And the remarkable thing was, he meant it. “Do you wish to know more about it?” 

“More about what, Sassenach?” 

“My time. Where I come from” 

He straightened a bit at that. “Aye, I do. What it’s like, what’s changed, what hasn’t.” 

“Anything you wish to know, Jamie, you have only to ask.” 

He nodded. “In time,” he said simply, stroking me gently. “I’m curious to learn from ye; but we’ve a lifetime for it, aye?” 

I bent down to kiss him. “Yes. Yes, we do.” 

We sat in silence for a long, peaceful time, the weight of him warm on my lap and legs. We did have a lifetime for talking, and yet so little time now. We’d had scarcely two hours alone, in fact, in the day and a half since I’d crept shamelessly into his chamber. My restriction to the castle walls and Jamie’s duties at the stables had left us with few opportunities to see one another without rousing suspicion, and that was paramount. We had to tread carefully until Jamie had the chance to speak with Colum, to give an explanation of how the apparent ice between us had transformed so swiftly into betrothal. No small task, that, and Colum had been detained in meetings with the visiting Grant delegation all of the previous day. 

And so, we’d been discreet: a stolen moment in an alcove, here; a shared glance across the great hall, there; Jamie’s lips on mine, his hands cupping my face as he bade me goodnight at my chamber door with a husky, “Goodnight, mo chridhe;” this blissful hour of solitude in lieu of the noon meal, an hour with Jamie (Murtagh standing sentinel at the end of the corridor, Lord bless him). Even a moment with Jamie was beautiful, like….like…Yes: like he was my first love—the passion, the sweetness; the inability to keep from grinning foolishly whenever I was with him. 

“Christ, this is NOT proper,” Jamie said suddenly, loosening his grip and making me just as unexpectedly aware that his arms had been around my waist, his hands gently cupping my arse, his face mere inches away from my nether parts.

“Proper-SHMOPPER,” I shrugged, bending down to kiss his temple. “And it’s fairly damn proper from my point of view, since you insist on keeping me an honest woman.” 

Because the ‘passion’ we’d shared in our hour together, despite my best efforts to have my way with my new fiancé, was all of the fully-clothed variety.

“Believe, you me, Sassenach, I want ye…” He sighed and his hands spasmed as though to grab onto something. “Want ye so badly I have to catch my breath from it, sometimes… ”

“If it’s what you wish, darling, so be it. It’s rather sweet, actually—Just as long as it’s not stemming from some fool notion about my virtue.” I gave him a wry grin. “I was married before, so I’m no more a blushing virgin than you are!”

“Aye, well….” He gave a sharp cough and shifted to sit upright against the opposite wall of our alcove. He had a strange expression on his face. 

I stretched and rested my back against my own wall, my legs parallel to his. I gently touched his foot. “What’s the matter, Jamie?”

“This is truly what ye want, Sassenach, aye? To be wed to me?”

“Yes,” I said at once, squeezing his leg. “You’re what I want.“ I ran back through my words for an explanation. “And I’m sorry I alluded to Frank, I just—”

He shook his head. “Dinna ever apologize for that. It’s part of ye.” 

But it was clear enough that mention of it had brought a shadow over his heart. 

“I love you.” I tried to meet his lowered gaze. Did he still doubt. “Do you believe me?

“Aye,” he said at once, giving a genuine but troubled smile. “There is a truth and a trust between us now. I believe it. And I love you too, mo nighean donn. It’s only…” 

I supposed if he could believe I came from the future, he could believe what he’d so vividly felt between us on the road. Still… “What’s troubling you, Jamie?” 

“I just wish to say that I’m sorry, about Frank. That ye couldna—that the way back to him was barred.”

I wanted to make it into a joke, but couldn’t. “I can’t see why you should be sorry, to be perfectly honest.”

“Frank wasna cruel to ye, aye? He was—is a good man?”

“Yes. A very good man.”

“And ye loved him.”

“I did. I—do, still—in—in a way—”

“Aye, I suppose ye must. And that’s why I’m sorry, in a way, because it’s still a loss for ye, one that ye must bear.” 

I nodded, a lump in my throat. He was right: no matter how quickly or wholeheartedly I’d decided to come back to Jamie, Frank would always haunt me, in some way. I hoped he could start over—that I wouldn’t haunt him

“If ye find ye ever—need to talk about him,” Jamie was saying, his brows furrowed so sweetly in concern, “dinna hesitate, aye?”

“That’s very gallant of you,” I laughed, a little hoarsely as I swallowed. 

“Well,” he laughed, gleaming with that lively energy I adored so greatly, “mind, ‘tis easy for me be magnanimous, seeing as how the man willna be born for two hundred years.” He sighed and looked me in the eye. “But suffice it to say, for the love between you and me, I couldna go further wi’out saying that I understand this is all verra complicated. I wish us to be…partners, to share our hearts wi’ one another, as my parents did. So, just know that whatever it is ye might be feeling is alright—and I shall do my best to understand—and help, if I might.”

“I almost wish that the stones had worked.” 

It was out of my mouth before I truly considered it, and I saw a ripple of pain pass through him before he marshaled himself with a gruff, “Why’s that?”

“So that I could have chosen you,” I said frankly.  He smiled in relief, a genuine, broad, glowing smile, but I went on. “If I could have felt that the stones would have worked, and stopped myself, thought of you and truly chosen you…Lord, I don’t know. Perhaps my guilt over Frank would have been greater, but I can’t bear the thought of you, now, thinking you were…. second choice.”

He beckoned to me. “Come here to me, mo chridhe.”

I crawled over until I was sitting curled sideways on his lap, the two of us heaped together in the sunlit window. He laid a warm palm on the side of my cheek and gently stroked my hair back from my face, murmuring into the top of my head. “Even if I was second choice,” he said firmly, “t’was a second choice because of your duty, and that’s no shame to you or to me. If I’d known the truth, I’d have taken ye there to the stones myself; no matter how painful it would have been to deliver ye back to the arms of another man.”

“You…really would have done that?”

Aye. Couldna have done otherwise. Ye had to try. It was your duty, and ye discharged it. And now, your conscience can be clear, as can mine.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, feeling the trickles of absolution flowing over me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and soaked him in; his scent, his warmth, the cadence of his voice. “We’re lucky. We’re so very lucky,” I whispered.

“We’re blessed.”

A sun-soaked eternity later, he gave my back two quick taps and made to rise.

“Oh, don’t go,” I moaned playfully, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck. “I’m so COLD.“ I made a dramatic pout that would have impressed any Hollywood director. “Stay and keep me warm, Mr. MacTavish!”

He snorted, laughing fondly, remembering. “You’re blazing as a wee coal, Sassenach,” he said, extricating himself only to lean overtop me, pressing me gently back into the nest of blankets. “But as much as I’d love to stay and let ye light me up a bit, I’ll be late if I dinna leave now. ‘Tis an important meeting, aye?”

It bloody well was. “Are you nervous?”

“Of marrying you?” he asked with a grin, nipping my neck.” Aye, terrified, feisty wee beastie.”

“No, not me,” I laughed, though the anxiety gripped my gut. “Of your talk with Colum.”

“Oh aye, a bit. He willna be best pleased at my choice—” He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “But surely it canna come as a complete shock to him that taking over the clan hasna been my ambition, particularly wi’ Dougal looming large so near at hand.”

“So, you think he’ll give us his blessing?”

“I have my hopes set on cold acquiescence, myself,” Jamie said, frankly. “If he puts up a skelloch, my argument is that wi’ the Sassenach spy in my bed, I can more easily keep my eye on her; keep her from doing anything too treacherous.”

“Treacherous? Heavens, no.” I rose with him and kissed him chastely, then cupped him in a way that was anything BUT chaste, relishing his moaning gasp. “Wicked? Oh, most certainly.”

“Thank you for meeting wi’ me, uncle.”

The Laird of Clan MacKenzie was resplendent, as usual, in his furs and frock coat. In addition, though, his manner this afternoon was uncharacteristically bright, his eyes twinkling and a smile playing at his mouth from across the broad desk. “So, nephew: I assume you’re here to ask permission to return to your estate.”

“How did ye ken that, uncle?” Aye, and that was part of it, was it not ? Jamie was free. He could go home. To Jenny. To Lallybroch. Aye, and he would. Just not alone.

“It’s been clear enough from your manner these last few weeks that you could no longer be happy at Leoch wi’ Mistress Beauchamp about.” 

Jamie flinched at her name, but Colum didn’t seem to notice, steepling his fingers and looking on with seemingly kind approbation.  

“Well, uncle, she isna so—”

“It was good of ye to come to the lady’s aid, lad,” Colum said gently, “Has she been pestering ye?”

“No,” he said emphatically, “Not at all, though I thank you for your concern, uncle.” The time has come, Fraser.  “The thing is—”

Colum held up a hand. “Ye dinna need to play so near the chest, lad. I ken it’s been hard, and it would be better on ye were she to be gone.” He beamed. “And I’m happy to say I’ve a solution.”

Jamie’s wame clenched.  A solution? Involving Claire? 

Colum gestured to a servant in the corner, who came forward with a decanter of whisky. To Jamie’s astonishment, Colum was heaving himself out of the chair and hobbling to come around the desk and stand beside him. 

He rose and held out staying hands. “Uncle, sit, please, ye dinna have to—”

“Nonsense, it’s an important occasion, lad.” The laird took a glass from the tray and handed one to Jamie. The noble kinsman raised the whisky and sighed in a wide, proud way. “A toast: to my dear sister’s son and his wife-to-be.” He drank. 

Jamie followed suit, for no other reason than to hide the shock that must be visible on his face. WIFE-TO-BE?? How did he know?? 

Colum, in another surprise, seemed pleased by Jamie’s stunned silence. “Och, so ye did piece it together, then?” He roared with laughter and inclined his head with a fierce pride. “That’s why you’re fit to lead this clan, lad. Clever and cunning, and it does ye much credit. Slainte.”

His uncle drank again, but it was Jamie’s head reeling. Had someone overheard him and Claire in the last day and a half and reported back to the laird? Was this kind, approving performance naught but a game? Was Jamie about to be castigated for having the audicity to suggest wedding the sassenach?

And yet the laird seemed so genuine in his congratulations. He positively glowed as he set his glass back on the tray and clapped Jamie on the arm. “Now, you’ll see soon enough for yourself that Edina is a fine lady, if a wee bit—”

“Who?” Jamie blurted, though the realization was already plummeting down upon him. 

“Edina Grant, your—” And like a stormcloud over the sun, Colum’s expression darkened to a deadly, steely grey. He all but growled it: “Your betrothed.”

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Thicker than Water - Part 1


(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Bucky x Reader series

Summary: Inspired by this post (x)
Being born and raised in a HYDRA family means you must be a devoted member to the organisation, carrying out orders with blind obedience. But after being assigned the suicide mission of being the Winter Soldier’s handler, you slowly start to question where your loyalties truly lie.

Warnings: Physical abuse, violence

Word Count: 1057

A.N: I know, I know… I still have two unfinished series which I haven’t updated in FOREVER and yet here I am posting another one. Truth is, I haven’t been feeling as good lately, both physically and emotionally but I’d been working on this story for a while and just wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy it.

Dedicated to the beautiful Ella @buckysinthesinbin for putting up with my crazy self at ungodly hours <3 Thank you, love!

Originally posted by ofallingstar

Authentic obedience is never blind.

December, 1993
2047 hours

“Thirteen, twelve, eleven…”

The house was uncharacteristically loud for a Thursday night, with its rooms full of elegantly dressed people and the delicate clinking of champagne glasses mixing with bubbling laughter and the soft sound of a piano playing somewhere in the living room.

Only the sound of the children’s voices stood out, along with the thud of their steps as they ran through the house in order to find a hiding spot, little feet running over the hardwood floor.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

You were running out of time.

Keep reading

A New Acquaintance.

Summary: Arriving at Xavier’s school, you make acquaintance with someone who is a lot like you.

Characters: Erik Lehnsherr x reader, Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy, Peter Maximoff.

Word Count: 845. 

Warnings: None.

Author’s Note: THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS THIS IS MADNESS!!!!Requested by anonymous.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, read the sign.
You weren’t exactly a youngster. You were twenty-eight going on twenty-nine, born just after the war. But, after many years of being on your own and figuring out your mutational attributes, you found this school by chance. There were many stories of mutants of all ages gathering here for an education and a haven. It was mostly the second for you. Though your mutation had never hurt another living being, you still felt a great need to understand it as much as possible, to create further prevention.
The mansion was bigger than you thought a mansion could be. It was more like a castle than a mansion, albeit and very rectangular castle.
You walked through the front lawn, seeing children running around and laying around in the grass, occasionally catching someone swooping about in the skies.
Entering the building, you were greeted by the faint sound of more children shuffling about but you did not know where they were.
A man closer to your age stepped towards you, looking rather boyish with a lab coat and a pair stylishly black–rimmed glasses.
“Hi, are you (y/n)?”
“Yes. Uh, are you Hank?”
“Yes, I am, it’s nice to meet you.”
A gust of wind passed you. A boy somewhat younger than you appeared.
“And this is Peter,” Hank sighed.
“Quicksilver. Some people call me Quicksilver.”
“Some people,” Hank emphasized.
”Noted,” you acknowledged.
“So,” Peter became excited, “what’s your mutation, huh? What is it? Is it like a rubber body? That’d be cool!”
Hank slapped Peter’s arm and shook his head.
“Sorry about him,” Hank apologized.
“It’s okay… I can manipulate matter.”
Peter scowled, “like solid, liquid and gas?”
“Like sold, liquid and gas,” you confirmed.
Hank cocked his head, “so, you could move the world’s oceans and mountains at will?”
“Or rip the world in half,” Peter added.
“In theory, I guess,” you answered.
“Awesome,” Peter shouted.
“Peter, leave the poor girl alone,” a British accent spoke.
Looking over Peter and Hank you came across a man in a wheelchair. He must’ve been Charles. Peter shrugged and sped away, causing your clothes to ripple. Hank merely said, “Sorry professor. It was nice to meet you,” and left. You looked at the professor and he smiled back.
“Come with me, love. We have much to discuss.”
“Of course.”
Traveling down the hallway Charles was fascinated by your mutation.
“All matter, you say? I’ve heard of elemental mutations and material mutations, but not the ability to control all matter.”
“It’s a mystery.”
Charles laughed at the comment.
“To what extent can you control it?”
“I mean, I have a good hold on it.”
“What can you control, then?”
“Little things, really.”
“Care to give an example.”
“I can animate some dirt, manipulate most liquids, I fixed the vase I broke when my mom wasn’t home once. I can’t move mountains or anything like that.”
“I must say (y/n), I’m impressed.”
Charles stopped and turned to you.
“I think I know someone who’d you get along with swimmingly.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
“Brilliant,” Charles said, “this way, please.”
Charles continued to guide you along the hallway, deeper and deeper into this maze of mansion. The rooms went from classrooms, to offices, to common rooms, and eventually to large suites. You bumped into the professor while peeking into a doorway, noticing how the rooms only became more and more well-dressed. Looking around and up to the ceiling to see a line of plain, yet elegant, bronze chandeliers, Charles kindly knocked on the black cherry stained door.
“Open up Erik, I have someone who’d like to make your acquaintance.”
A muffled voice replied, “I’m preoccupied at the moment, Charles.”
“You may be preoccupied, old friend, but I think this would peak your interest far more than whatever you are doing.”
There was a stint of silence followed by the unlocking and turn of a knob. The door dragged open and the man called “Erik” appeared.
“Charles, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at here…”
Erik’s voice trailed off as his eyes fell upon you.
“Erik, meet (y/n). (Y/n), meet Erik.”
His lips quivered some at the sight of your presence as you returned a perplexed gaze.
“Erik,” Charles said.
He cleared his throat and adjusted his posture.
“Yes,” extending his hand,” it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Quite,” you replied, briefly shaking his hand.
Charles interjected the slight staring contest that had ensued.
“(Y/n) here can manipulate matter. I thought you could be of good use to her.”
“Yes, I think I would,” Erik inclined.
Charles looked back and forth between you and the new friend.
“Don’t get her into any trouble, Erik,” Charles whispered before carting away.
“Lovely to come across you today, Erik.”
“Very lovely, miss.”
The two of you grinned at one another with adoration.
“So,” Erik inquired, “can you manipulate metal too?”
“Something like that,” you implied.
“Care to come in? We can discuss it some, get to know one another better?”
“I wouldn’t mind that.”

Requests and Submissions are Open + Masterlist.

Dating Bruce
  • People gossip about you
  • You’re the mystery woman that even the paparazzi can’t seem to nail down –thanks to Batman
  • They say you an Bruce met at a gala or a charity function
  • When really you met one day when your daughter and his son teamed up against the school bullies
  • Bruce asked you out for a cup of coffee after
  • Your first date you talked about your kids and work anything else you could fit into an hour and a half
  • You formally meet the his kids later
    • Damian comes first
      • You try to take pictures of him when he isn’t looking
        • he’s always looking
      • If you have pets he trains them for you
      • he loathes you until he sees that you baby everyone and learns that that’s how you show affection
      • He and your daughter get into trouble together all the time, but try to pass the blame on each other
      • You gave him the idea to harass Bruce to build an animal sanctuary
    • You met Dick a weeks after the fight
      • he was a total sweetheart
      • He’s planned your dates when Bruce was too busy
      • After a while he starts offering your daughter a ride in the police car -you’ll only let him take her around the block
      • Around that time he starts accidentally calling you mom -you pretend not to notice
      • sometimes he’ll visit just so he can eat some of your food. Doesn’t matter if it’s take out or not
    • You meet Tim at a family dinner
      • He’s amazed you stayed with Bruce even after he cancelled about fifty dates
      • He did an INCREDIBLY thorough background search on you
        • You’ve made a few mistakes but you’re no criminal
      • he’s the one that teaches your daughter how to play video games
      • They nerd out together
    •  Jason is the last to meet you -for obvious reasons
      • You probably baby him more than the rest of his brothers
      • He’s a sarcastic little shit but you argue that it’s part of his charm
      • You send him a care package of precooked foods at least twice a month
      • The first time you met Roy he said “You’re the best!! Can you be my mom too?”
        • Jason hit him upside the head
        • “I’ve got like five kids now, what’s one more?”
  • When Bruce tells you he’s Batman you’re relieved but still worried
    • “I’m so happy you’re not a drug lord.” “What made you think I was?” “No normal company has meetings at 10 o’clock, Bruce.”
    • You make him wake you whenever he comes home just to make sure he’s alright
    • You’ve had a few panic attacks when you didn’t find him in bed the next day –he just fell asleep on the couch
  • You tell Bruce you love him every chance you get
  • He won’t always say it back, but he will return the sentiment with some sort of affection
  • You and your daughter were accepted into the Batfamily the moment Alfred met you
  • Alfred ships it

anonymous asked:

Share a heads dorm/common room?

Check out this post, plus here are a bunch more:

Title: Alarming and Beautiful
Romance, Angst
Word Count:
What she didn’t realize until after she agreed to go out with him was that these things were piling on his shoulders until he was hunched under the weight of the world and it was all he could do not to throw it off and watch it shatter.

Title: Breaking Locks
Romance, Smut
Word Count:
Jily oneshot: smut indeed. A chance meeting in the shower.

Title: A Matter of Technique  
Author: B.C Daily
Rating: K+
Genre(s): Romance, Humour
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 7,009
Summary: Caught in the act of trying to learn how to waltz, James’s dancing troubles result in some interesting consequences.

Title: Nothing Like a Bath to Help You Relax
Author: EllaMennowPea
Rating: M
Genre(s): Romance, Humour, Smut
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 3,357
Summary: Lily relieves some tension in the warm bath and James happens to wander in…  

Title: What About Now?
Author: SiriusUntiltheVeryEnd
Rating: M
Genre(s): Romance, Humour
Chapters: 21 [WIP]
Word Count: 101,294
Summary: She noticed him, of course she noticed him but Lily didn’t let her gaze linger. She had always thought James was fit, but she didn’t particularly want to. James Potter was trouble and she had enough problems.

Title: Tears on the Balcony
Author: ByeByeBirdie
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Humour
Chapters: 51
Word Count: ~522,000
Summary: Lily & James have hated each other ever since their initial meeting took a wrong turn. After a shocking goodbye at the end of their 6th year, are things going to be any different in the following year when they are forced to work together as Head Boy and Head Girl.

Title: Before The Fawn
Author: andelyn kinsey
Rating: M
Genre(s): Romance, Drama
Chapters: 52 [WIP/Abandoned]
Word Count: 508,841
Summary: Before Harry, before Godric’s Hollow, before the Dark Lord was defied three times… Lily Evans and James Potter discovered that neither of them were what the other had expected, and embarked on a relationship that would change the world as they knew it.

Title: Only
Author: LunarArtemis
Rating: M
Genre(s): Romance
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 2,464
Summary: Lily is bored one night and who just happens to be available? Lily and James find themselves in a situation where the sexual tension can be cut with a knife on James’ bed! 7th year!

Title: Lily’s Headache
Author: foxredwinter
Rating: K+
Genre(s): Romance
Chapters: 2
Word Count: 3,672
Summary: Lily’s headache and a late night meeting helps her to see a few new things about James.  LEJP.

Title: Untitled
Author: fanfic-tastic
Rating: Unrated
Genre(s): Romance
Chapters: 1
Word Count: ~
Summary: AU Where James comes home after a long Quidditch practice and heads to the head boy/girl dorms immediately to shower and barges in on Lily showering accidentally.

Title: Fire Burning
Author: CHSPatriot09
Romance, Angst
Word Count:
What if Hogwarts held a Yule Ball during Lily and James’ seventh year? What if Lily finally realized that she really did love James? This is not a song fic in any way. Rated M for some strong language, mild suggestiveness, sexuality, and a lemon.

domestic life | tom holland imagine

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: Tom is worried that he can never give you the life you want. You reassure him that he is the life you want.


Tom woke up to 4 missed calls from you. He rubbed at his eyes half asleep as he rang you up. You picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey sleepyhead! Good morning!” Your cheery voice instantly perked up Tom’s attitude.

“Good morning love. Where are you?” He was vaguely aware of the quietness of the flat.

“I’m at the grocery. I’ll be back soon. Do you want anything while I’m here?”

“Oh alright. Um, nothing really. I’m good thanks,” Tom was slightly disappointed that you had not woken him up to accompany you.

“Alright then, sit tight and I’ll be home in a bit. Love you babe!”

“Love you too.” She hung up after his reply.

Tom laid in bed, falling in and out of sleep as he waited for your return. A yawn escaped his lips as he stared at a photo of you and him laying on the grass with his head in your lap. It was on your first anniversary. Harrison had taken it before leaving you two to be alone and gross as he would say.

The fond smile on his face slowly faded into a frown as he remembered what you discussed that day. You told him of how you have always wanted the “domestic life.” He remembered how your eyes lit up at the thought of going out to buy flour and eggs to go home and make pancakes with. He could almost see your smile as you talked about waking up early and walking the dog across the town with him hand-in-hand. He looked away from the picture frame as the thought of you laughing as you went over a few cute date night ideas that you could do with Tom.

He hated not being able to give that to you. If he could, he would do everything for you, he would give you the world. Except he cannot, and he is only human. And not just any human, a famous one at that.

He knew you would love and support him no matter what happened with his career. You may not have been there at the start of it, but he was set on having you there when it meets its end. But he also knew because of his “fame”, he could not do everything he wanted to do with you.

Cute dates and little walks were rare because people were always looking and talking and squeezing into your date nights. Trips to malls and groceries were avoided in case of mobbing and to avoid tom from getting into trouble for his big mouth. Not to mention the fact that he would leave for months at a time to attend to the same career that placed both of you miles and miles away from each other. He loved his job but he also loved you.

You arrived at yours and Tom’s flat with a smile. You were excited to have Tom home again after him being in Atlanta for a few months. You planned on making some pancakes as you knew those always cheered Tom up when he was home. You quickly started on making the batter and soon you were left with a stack of delicious pancakes ready to be enjoyed.

Tom was still in bed thinking of you and him when you entered the room. He did not notice you and you took a moment to admire your boyfriend. You noticed the crease between his eyebrows and the frown on his face as he stared at the wall. “Hey babe, come outside,” you softly said as you made your way to the side of the bed where he was. You caressed his cheek and smoothened the crease on top of his nose before kissing it.

He sent you a faint smile as he stood up and followed you into the living room. As soon as he saw what you had made, his heart dropped. Pancakes. Made for him but not with him. You noticed his lack of excitement. “Tom? What’s the matter? Should I have made something else?” You were worried, had you done something to upset him?

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” When he was met with confusion he continued, “to make pancakes. Don’t we usually make them together?”

“I just thought you’d be tired and you’d want your rest. It’s no big deal really-”


Tom’s sudden outburst stunned you. You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. You were so confused and honestly did not know what to do. All you had done was make pancakes for you and your boyfriend.

His eyes were downcast. He felt the frustration slip out of him and into the room as he began pacing.

“We’re supposed to be a team! I thought we made these together! Do I really mean that little to you? Do you not want me anymore?” He was waffling and his hands were pulling at his hair. The stress from work and missing you was too much and it was spilling out in the wrong way.

“I love you but I can’t give you the life you want.” At this you snapped out of your state and walked to your boyfriend.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into your chest. He quietly stood there and let you hold him. Slowly his arms found their way around you and you smiled, giving him a kiss on his collarbone. “I love you, more than you’ll ever know,” you whispered into his neck, planting soft kisses there.

“But-” you shushed him before he could finish. “Your adorable when you waffle but I really want pancakes.” He let a sad smile settle on his face as you let him sit on the couch as you grabbed two plates with servings on each, a fork, and a big thing of syrup. You settled on the couch right next to your boyfriend and turned to face him.

He was still out of it. He had a small frown on his lips and the crease had returned. You frowned and cut up a piece of pancake. You raised it up to Tom and smiled. “Here comes the plane,” you joked with a teasing smile. You saw a flash of amusement in his eyes and you knew you were on the right path. “Come on, open up, you know you want it. The plane has places to be!”

Soon he smiled and let you feed him. He stared fondly at you as you made sure he was all taken care of and happy. You were his everything and he could not handle the thought of ever losing you. He leaned forward and placed his lips on yours. Once he pulled away you smiled. “What was that for?” You laughed.

“For being there for me. For being my everything.” He smiled a genuine smile. “Of course Tom, I’ll always be here for you. I love you and you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” He got quiet again. The thought circled in his head, would he be able to live with knowing he cannot give you the life you wanted?

“Why do you love me if I can’t give you the life you want?” He said it before he could stop himself. It was eating up his insides. You simply chuckled at his question. You raised your hand and brushed a stray strand away from his eyes before pecking his lips. “You are the life I want Tom.”

Some characters as ghosts

I just had this pop into my head and I thought, why not, lets write this out.


- He’s the kind of ghost who, when you apply deodorant in the bathroom or stare into the sink and contemplate the universe, just suddenly pops his head out of the mirror and smiles.

- You never hear him coming. He’s like, all quiet and then he’s just there and you never know when exactly he popped up and if he heard you talking to yourself or got to witness you cooing at something cute on your phone.

- Mirio will always, always show up to watch movies or a series with you and if you get popcorn, he’ll always try to eat it and then notice that he can’t and it causes a sort of awkward, uncomfortable and sad moment, before he shrugs it off and sinks his butt through the damn couch cushions.


- Say goodbye to sleeping undisturbed. On some nights at least. He’s the most unpredictable ghost, bordering on being a polertgeist and he shows up whenever he feels like it and causes a ruckus that could raise the dead.

- He’ll complain, a lot. Mainly about how he died and how he still tries to find the bastard who killed him and what the fuck is up with the show you’re watching, switch the channel his favorite movie is airing right now.

- Bakugou sort of really starts to live with you. He’ll be at the couch at all sorts of times and sometimes, if he’s really bored, he’ll accompany you and yell at people, mostly because they either can’t see him or walk through him without noticing.


- You’re very sure he doesn’t sleep, or rest or what it is that ghosts do when they’re not busy haunting someone’s ass. He always looks like he could really need a nap. Or ten.

- Aizawa is actually a really nice ghost. He doesn’t cause a mess, he is interested in having a civil and normal conversation and he really likes his calm and quiet.

- Though Aizawa also disappears for times on end and it takes a while for you to find out, that he’s meeting up with other ghosts and fights against things that are hard to understand and he’s just trying to be reassuring while you realize, holy shit, there is more stuff out there and until now, you didn’t even know (and you kind of want to un-know again so you can pretend to be oblivious.)


- One of the creepiest ghosts ever and he’s not even trying. He has this habit of silently slinking out of a wall and giving you this stare that says “the afterworld exists, do you want to meet it?”

- He’s rather protective of his territory (that it’s your home doesn’t matter at all). He lives there and doesn’t welcome other ghosts. If anything, he actually keeps the whole building rather ghost-free, unless he likes or accepts someone. Your apartment complex quickly gains the reputation that creepy shit happens if you don’t watch out.

- Aside from that, he’s not very complicated and doesn’t give you too much trouble. Once he gets strong enough to actually touch shit, he’s using your computer or laptop whenever he can.


- Shouji tries to be a helpful ghost and while it takes a long while until he grows strong enough to actually nudge a cup of tea, he helps you find things you misplaced or accompanies you when you go somewhere late.

- He’s befriending most of the other ghosts in the neighborhood and therefore goes out quite often to spend time with them or to generally look around the city.

- Shouji rarely talks about what caused his death, though sometimes he tells you a little about the things he enjoyed when he was still alive, his favorite food or place and that he misses being able to feel the sun.

G Eazy Imagine

Originally posted by wesoleto

Synopsis: G makes assumptions that lead to problematic fights and you deciding if it’s all worth it

Warnings: Drugs, Slight use of blood, Alcohol, Language and honestly this is going to be long because I like the details, yah feel? 

Part Two

Your POV

I quickly dialed G’s number barely being able to wipe the smile off my face walking out of work. 

“Hey baby, I miss you.” G answers the phone and my smile only gets bigger. 

“Babe you’ll never believe it! David is publishing my article! I did it!” I yell in excitement and he laughs on the other end. 

“Y/N! That’s my girl. You are an amazing writer and it’s damn time people see that.” By him saying that only warmed my heart more. It just made me love him even more. We had been dating for about a year and a half now, through thick and thin he’d always say, and it was true. From album launches to tough critics we always supported one another. 

“Y/N? What are you still doing here? Do you want a ride home, you are on the way home for me.” My boss David comes up  from behind me and I quickly cover the phone so Gerald wouldn’t hear. 

“Who’s that?” Gerald asks, he was so protective of me, he just had good intentions but sometimes the littlest stuff ticked him off. 

“It’s my boss. I’ll call you back babe.” With that I hung up quickly and turned around to meet David. Everyone in the office knew David had a thing for me since day one but he was my boss, let alone I had an amazing boyfriend. 

“Hey, and you know it’s not that far, I don’t mind walking.” I smile and David shakes his head. 

“It’s creepy down here at night, please it’s no trouble.” There was a part of me that knew I shouldn’t but he was right. 

“Okay, thank you.” I get into his very expensive car, one I probably wouldn’t be able to afford no matter how much I saved. We rode in silence until my phone started ringing Gerald’s face appearing on the screen, I quickly ignore it and I catch David looking at it in the corner of my eye. 

“Well, here we are.” David smiles and I quickly get out. 

“Thanks so much.” I smile politely and quickly get up to Gerald and I’s apartment. I call back G and he answers on the first ring. 

“Yo, what was that about?” He asks and I head to the bedroom to pack the last couple of things. 

“My boss, he-uh- was nice enough to drive me home.” I struggle to open the suitcase and hold the phone at the same time. 

“Your boss that has the hots for you?” G asks and I roll my eyes. 

“Sure, I don’t know. I’m gonna finish packing and I’m on the next flight out to you.” I smile and he laughs.

“Yeah, the guys and I are going to pregame a little but I’ll be back in time at the house to see you. You’ll love the place, has a really big bed…” G carries off the sentence and I laugh.

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Text you when I land. Love you.” I hang up and finsih packing. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the curling iron to just touch up a couple pieces of hair so I wouldn’t have to later. I start to curl a piece underneath and I guess I got too close to my neck and burn it. I hiss in pain and put the curling iron down to see the red mark forming. I finish my hair and let the iron cool before tossing it into my bag.

 I get an Uber to the airport as I don’t want to bother any of my friends to just drive me to the airport. The ride wasn’t that long but I was just so excited to see my boyfriend. It had been about a month since I had seen Gerald because of tour but he luckily got a week off and got a house in Palm Springs that sounded amazing. It was just going to be us for once and I couldn’t wait. 

The flight was a little less than an hour so I got to Palm Springs pretty quickly and just got an Uber to the adress G had sent me. 

The airport was pretty quiet as it was late. Of course I would have liked if Gerald picked me up but he was famous and I suppose someone would recognize him, plus he was most likely drinking. I watched the street lights pass as the palm trees lightly blew in the wind. About 30 minues later we started pulling up to the house and of course I was shocked at how beautiful it was. 

“Thank’s so much.” I pay and get out, dragging my bag behind me. I was honestly exhausted from work and I really didn’t sleep on the plane since it was a short flight. I knock on the door and no one answers but the music blares from within. I try and knock louder and finally someone answers, a girl with dark brown hair and beautiful tan skin opens the huge door.

“Can I help you?” She asks in an annoyed tone and I’m taken back by it. 

“Yeah my boyfriend Gerald is there, can I come in?” She laughs and opens the door more and I start to go in and see him in a chair with a girl ontop of him just sitting there. There were several girls wearing barely anything but you weren’t one to judge. His crew was there, as well as guys you’d never even seen before. 

“G.” I say and he looks at me and starts laughing lightly. To say I was embarrassed wasn’t even the start of it. 

“Hey babyy,” He slurred his words and quickly got up, pushing the girl off of him. His hair was no longer in the usual slicked back fashion as pieces of it fell in front of his eyes and the sides of his face. Gerald barely could walk but he didn’t let go of a bottle that was in his hand. I noticed drugs all over the coffee table, ones I knew that were not just weed.

“Awhh look at my girl, damn baby. Mmm.” Gerald wraps me in a hug and rocks me back and forth and I lightly shove him off. He scowls at my action and his eyes were dark, his pupils dilated beyond what I had ever seen them. 

“What did you do? How much did you drink?” I hold the sides of his face and I can see everyone staring at us. It’s then I notice a tiny bit of blood splattered up his neck. 

“What the fuck Gerald? Are you hurt?!” I pull the shirt down near his neck and he looks annoyed. 

“No, stop it.” Gerald pulls away from me. 

“What happened?” I ask worried and he takes another drink from the bottle. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask David.” He says taking me by surprise and I run my fingers through my hair. 

“What the fuck is that?!” Gerald yells and I jump at the change in tone and everybody looks our way. 

“What?” I ask and he grabs the back of my neck. 

“You have a hickey, Y/N. Did you fuck David? You gonna leave me for him? Some 40 year old guy who probably can’t even get it up?” Gerald yells anger clearly radiating off of him.

“What the hell Gerald? What’s your problem?” I ask.

“I didn’t sleep with David, he’s my boss! G c’mon, you know I love you.” I grab his hand but he jerks it away. 

“You should! I’m gone all the time, it sure would be easy for you. Then I could hookup with other girls and not feel like shit afterwards!” Gerald holds his stomach and laughs as he barely holds onto the bottle. 

“Excuse me? I’m not talking to you with everybody here.” I say scowling at his last sentence and turn around heading towards the front door.

“Well then fuck you!” Gerald yells and before I know it a bottle smashes against the wall next to the front door. Gasps fill the room at his sudden action, as I’m frozen in my steps. Tears fall down my cheeks, as fear laces into every bone and muscle in my body. I turn around to look at him and it seems he realized what he’d done. 

“Baby- I’m so sorry, I didn’t m-” Gerald starts but I quickly stop him.

“You’re fucking crazy, don’t ever come near me again.” I say as anger flows through me. I quickly open the door and slam it shut running down the driveway, tears streaming which I knew would leave a mess with mascara but that was the least of my problems. I sobbed and sobbed but I just kept walking as the events of what happened replayed over and over like a bad rerun. 

Authors Note: Hope you liked it, there will be a part two coming out very shortly so I’ll be sure to put the link to part two in this one! Thanks! Open for requests if you have any!

Mystery Review Theater 3k

Okay. So. Let me preface this by saying that I firmly believe that y’all have the right to like or not like my writing and to express your likes and dislikes in your reviews, and I respect that. I know sometimes you’re unhappy, and I may not always agree with you (sometimes I do lol), but generally I just read, think “noted…” and move on. 

But every now and then, I get a review that I just… can’t let lie there. And I got such a review today, that is just…. I… I just… I’m sorry, I gotta share with the class and comment point by point on this thing, because…. wow. 

So. Here’s a review I just got on Breaking In – and by the way, I want to thank this person for this review, I really do, because this has been the highlight of my fucking day – and I got a brand new phone today, so that’s saying something. lol

“I was a big fan of this fanfiction in the beginning. I enjoyed every chapter and I thoroughly looked forward to a new chapter, however, recently I haven’t been enjoying it. I stopped reading at about chapter 31 because of the storyline being dragged out too long, I honestly don’t get why Regina and Robin never got back together, or at least stayed together. 

You’re not alone, tbh, I get this a lot. 

What Robin did was illegal and Regina had every right to be angry at him but not continuing on with her relationship with him over it was pointless, since when did Regina care about her mother’s opinion?! 

Uhh….. what?

Never, expect of course in her younger days, but Regina is an independent, strong woman, and the Regina in OUAT would not care about her mother’s opinion.

Okay. Hold on. Stop. This is where I had to stop and pop my eyeballs back into my head from where they had just fallen, dangling, from how wide my eyes popped open at that crazy-ass statement.

Can we just… I’m in the middle of an OUAT rewatch, and I am in the middle of season two, and LET ME TELL YOU, Regina Mills really, really cares about her MOther’s opinion. It derailed her entire redemption for half a season – with ONE CONVERSATION WITH MOMMY. 

Like. What.. What..?? What show are you watching where Regina doesn’t care about her mother’s opinion??

I’m so baffled and also so amused…


The next thing I would like to say is about the storyline again, but this time about Regina’s ‘eating disorder’, 

Don’t put that shit in quotes, that’s rude.

I don’t see why it’s such a big deal in this fanfic because it shouldn’t be. Regina chooses not to eat when her mother is around or when her mother says something insulting to her, there is no need for Regina to deny herself food over a petty thing like that, going back to the independent and strong woman part I mentioned about Regina that she clearly is, she wouldn’t do that to herself, maybe in her younger days, but not now.

Okay, hold on a second. Cora, is that you?? Like, I’m pretty sure that’s Cora Mills speaking from inside the page with that one – “there’s no need for Regina to deny herself food over a petty thing like that” are you jooooooking. Like, how insulting is it to imply that someone with an eating disorder is just being dramatic and childish, which is basically what you’re doing.

Regina has an eating disorder. It is a very real thing, that a lot of very real readers relate to, and if you wanna be dismissive and disrespectful about that because you don’t have the capacity to understand it, you can go do it somewhere else.

The next thing is about the weed in a previous chapter. When I decided to read the chapter because a friend told me that their 'relationship’ was going somewhere I was absolutely disgusted at what I read. I thought the whole fanfiction was OOC from day one, but the chapter with Regina and Robin smoking weed was seriously OOC, I cannot imagine them ever doing that. You do know it’s Regina Mills and not Trina Decker, right?!


Oh, believe me, I know it’s not my boo Trina Decker. *insert heart eyes*

Originally posted by fyeahlparrilla

And you’re right, BIn Regina smoking pot is out of character – something that she and Robin both acknowledge, and something she talks about with her therapist shortly thereafter, and which her therapist acknowledges is out of character, erratic behavior for her. It’s called a plot point, yo. It was supposed to be out of character. 

But maybe you just.. stopped reading after 37?

Also, just out of curiosity, is this the same anon who got all butthurt after Robin smoked pot in an earlier chapter? 

And the thing that made the chapter even more disgusting and disturbing was that fact that Henry, a 10/11 year old boy was left in his house allow while his mother went and got high. 

Yeah, Regina thought this was a bad idea, too. She brought it up, she felt guilty about it. Her, uh, semi-stoner not-boyfriend convinced her it was okay.

I don’t care that his mother was 'only next door’, 'a few minutes away’ something could have happened to injury or endanger Henry. He could have also been taken by robbers or kidnappers. 

Are you sure you’re not Cora Mills??? Where do you think Regina lives?? People leave kids alone at home to got to the neighbors for a chat all the time – especially when they have, y’know, security systems and shit that they could probably hear from next door if they went off. SHE DOESN’T NEED TO MOVE TO A GATED COMMUNITY, MOTHER, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH FEDERAL HILL.

Also, let’s be real, if there were robbers or kidnappers, it wouldn’t matter much whether Regina was home or away, someone was probably gonna be getting hurt. She doesn’t have magic, she doesn’t own a gun, she’s not gonna overpower a band of kidnapping robbers.

Originally posted by gronazotheque

Unless maybe it’s that one…

You should never leave your child alone, no matter how far away you are from them.

Uh… I know a lot of (good) parents who would disagree with that. It’s okay to leave your ten year old alone for a little while, especially when you’re just next door, have your phone with you, and they’re asleep. Hell, did you miss the previous chapters where she left him alone for several hours in the middle of the day? Or, did you miss that whole episode in season one where she left Henry alone for an entire Saturday to go “city council meeting” the Sheriff?

How much trouble do you think this sleeping kid in a locked house is gonna get up to?

And then there was also Roland who was only in the next room while Regina and Robin got high, which was completely vile. They would never, ever do that with a child in the house. 

Looks like they would, tho…

And the fact that they decided to cook something but then decided to make out which resulted in them nearly burning the house down! 

Okay a) Do you want them together or not? Because you don’t get to be mad that they’re not getting together fast enough AND get mad that they “decided to make out”. 

b) They burned some toast, dude. The house was in no danger. Find your chill. It’s not like they came up for air to this:

Originally posted by moa8

In their state of being high they could have forgotten about Roland. 

Okay, I’m not sure if you’ve ever smoked pot before, but trust me – HALF A JOINT is not strong enough to make you forget you have a child in the case of an emergency. Might make you forget that Spice World is a terrible movie, but not that your kid is asleep upstairs. 

It made me feel sick. And the whole oral sex activity that was going on in the living room where Roland could have easily woken up and seen what was going on was inappropriate. There are bedrooms with locks for a reason!

You mean the bedroom with the child sleeping in it? That one? That’s where you’d prefer I had them hook up? Next to the toddler bed? 

Now, you may not read this review of mine or you may just ignore it because of the 500 followers that somehow like this fanfic, 

Oh, how could I ignore this one, this was comedy gold.

but I just wanted to say that some of the things that you write are too OOC and not logical or reasonable. 

Same to you, my friend.

I get the whole thing about fanfic. It’s fiction that fans write and it can be whatever they want it to be, but when you write fanfiction that involves two characters that so many people love — including myself — and they are totally OOC and seem like two different people all together, then I personally think that it’s not a fanfiction to enjoy. 

And you have the right to that personal opinion, although apparently 500+ (it is really 500 followers? I haven’t checked – that’s really cool. I’m flattered – thanks guys!) people think I’m doin’ just fine, so… I’mma keep on keepin’ on.

With that being said I’m out. Peace!”

Originally posted by gameraboy


wasitfuckingamazing  asked:

Hi is it ok to request a hc? For the bullying clay hc one you did but romantically clony? if that's ok, if not no worries. I love your writing and headcanons for clony so much!

Romantic Clony with Clay being bullied and how Tony reacts:

(I’d just like to say thank-you for being my first request and for the kind words; it means a lot :) I really hope it’s to your satisfaction; I struggled with writing it a little ‘cause I found I didn’t think it’d be that different from the original- with the added bonuses of kissing and cuddles ;) So I hope it’s okay!

Warning: Offensive language/comments, that I in no way tolerate but have used for the purpose of these headcanons.)

-The whole happening with the depositions and the tapes being made public are surprisingly the least of Clay’s worries while he’s at school- the other eleven leaving him in peace for the most part. The problem, apparently, and the cause for his constant torment and teasing at the hands of his peers, lies within his relationship with Tony, “I hear you like it in the ass now, Jensen.” … “I always knew those gay rumours were true, Jensen. No wonder you don’t have any luck with the chicks.”

-While Clay feels his face heat up at the remarks, he tries to not let it get to him- usually responding with a sarcastic comment of his own that sets the others squirming uncomfortably, “Yeah, that’s usually how sex occurs when you’re a guy with a boyfriend.” … “The terms actually Bisexual, but if that’s your start up line to offering your services, I think I’ll stick with my own boyfriend; he knows just how I like it.”

-Tony’s not so passive, often finding himself knocking a few assholes into lockers- Clay’s had to physically hold him back on more than one occasion, not wanting to have his boyfriend suspended. “Come on, Tony. It’s only words, it doesn’t matter” … “Of course it matters, Clay. You matter, okay?”

-While they’re walking down the halls together, Tony likes to hold Clay’s hand- not to lay claim to the younger boy, but to show everyone that he’s not to be messed with. Even then, if someone looks as if they’re about to start trouble, Tony throws his arm protectively around Clay and pulls him in close to his side, followed often with a gentle kiss to the temple.

-One day, Clay’s on his way to meet Tony for lunch when he’s thrown harshly into the lockers at the side of him. Before he can get his bearings there’s a punch to his face, followed by one to his gut which has him on his knees, gasping for breath. He barely has the time to register the sneer of Monty’s voice before he’s being hit again, “You really are a puff, aren’t you Jensen?”

-Tony knows something’s wrong instantly when Clay’s late to meet him and takes straight off to find him, lunch immediately forgotten. His blood boils when he catches sight of the commotion and realises who it is getting the beat down- He doesn’t think he’s ever punched someone so hard in his life, strength fuelled by rage. He only stops because Clay begs him to, “Tony, stop. He’s had enough. Please.”

-Afterwards, when they get home they cuddle in bed and Tony takes it upon himself to gently kiss every single one of Clay’s cuts and bruises, as if it would heal them all right then and there- with the way it makes him feel, Clay’s not sure it couldn’t.

-Every morning, without fail, Tony’s on time outside of Clay’s house to pick him up for school and is always waiting for him after, ready to take him home; Clay always insists that he’s okay riding his bike, but Tony doesn’t want to take the chance of something happening to him while he’s not there.

Shape of You (3)

And so the drama begins. Can’t wait to share more of this story with you. Also Can’t wait for Tuesday when we get to see more of our precious Nessian pairing =)

One Two

Chapter 3

Feyre was waiting on the porch when we pulled into the driveway. After breakfast Cassian had somehow talked me into letting him drive the rest of the way. It felt good to sit and watch the trees, I was taken back to all the years I spent in the passenger seat anticipating our annual trip to the lake house. It was the only time we felt like a real family, when we spent our time together swimming and laughing.

That all stopped when our mother died. We lost a lot when our mother finally gave into her illness. In a way our father had become a stranger, we had lost him too. It was just the three of us, banded together in order to keep some semblance of a family.

Feyre came running down the walk and I smiled as she ran right into me. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me only the way a little sister could. Tight and long, as if she thought she was enough to put me back into the girl she had once known. The girl she didn’t even realize was gone.

I hugged her back, “hey little sis.”

She pulled away to look at me. She touched my cheek, the same gesture my mother used to do so long ago. I couldn’t believe how much she looked like her. Feyre was our mother’s spitting image as well as her twin. She had the same gestures, the same everything. And she had been the youngest, she couldn’t remember much about the woman who never got to raise her.

“Nesta you look good,” she said softly running her thumb along my cheek, “I can’t believe how much I missed you, big sis.”

Keep reading

Super Ashinaka Gakuen Bazaar
Gakuen K WSD V Edition LE Bonus Drama CD

Thanks again to the wonderful @yumegasaki for the translation of this full length sideshow of a drama cd.

So, Ashinaka School holding a fair and a flea market. Enjoy.

Keep reading