now he looks so out of place

Right Place, Wrong Time

Pairing: Sami Zayn x Reader
Summary: Sami has liked you for a while now, so he decides to ask you out…only things don’t seem to go as planned every time he tries.

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe


“Good morning, Sami!” You called from across the hotel lobby.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sami replied, returning your smile as he walked over to you and Kevin. “Hey, Kev.”

“Morning, man.” Kevin told Sami, still half asleep. “I look at this one and wonder how she’s so awake this morning.” He pointed to you.

“That’s because I didn’t sleep very well last night.” You said with a shrug. “So I was up early and got some coffee in me an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you sleep? You could’ve called me, I didn’t sleep much either.” Sami asked.

Keep reading

2

Saturn

You taught me the courage of stars before you left.
How light carries on endlessly, even after death.
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite.
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.

- “Saturn” by Sleeping At Last

“He promised!”, the younger man cried. A heartwrecking, choked sound. “He promised he’d come back!”

Tears seeped through the fabric of Ryou’s shirt and slender fingers dug into his back with a force he’d never thought Keith possessed. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say. No support he could’ve offered. He could only wrap his own arms around the smaller figure and hold him.

It had been two months. Two months since Keith fled the constricting walls of the Galaxy Garrison and vanished into the cold desert night. Two months and twenty-two days since Iverson’s spokesman announced the Kerberos mission was a failure. Two months and twenty-nine days since the comms of his brother’s ship went dead.

Noone knew where Keith went that night, except for Ryou. There was only one place in the world Keith would seek out for shelter. It was the only place Takashi had never shared with his twin. Because it was their place. Their shelter. Keith and Shiro. Only them. And Ryou had respected that, content with the fact that his brother had finally found love, even if Takashi himself hadn’t known that back then.

Now that Takashi was gone, he couldn’t help but venture out into the desert more and more often. He felt adrift and numb, left in a state of levitation before reality would finally come crashing in. Always looking for that special place that held so many memories of his brother. The shack.

Packed with supplies - food, water, wool blankets, lamp oil, a notable stock of lighters and all the little things Keith may or may not need by now - Ryou had steered his black hoverbike away from the Garrison this morning and straight into the unforgiving heat of the desert. Always looking for that one spot on the map that still held some of his brother’s very soul. That one damned spot that Ryou knew he should never seek out. For it held the only tangible evidence of his brother’s death. His absence at Keith’s side. And he knew this would break him.

When he finally found the shack, he knew Keith was there before he even saw him in person. The red hoverbike, parked right infront of the small porch, gave him away. Its black twin’s engine purred and finally went silent under Ryou. Before Kerberos, before everything went down the drain, the red bike had belonged to Takashi. A gift, Ryou had made for him. He still remembered the face Taka made when he’d seen his birthday present. Now that day seemed eons away… Surreal and alien like memories of a life that belonged to somebody else.

Keith opened the front door before Ryou could even make it to the porch. And for one moment it seemed like the world had come to a halt, remembering that there was something missing, before it started turning again with cold, regardless indifference. Feigning ignorance towards two now incomplete and broken beings. The universe had greater things to take care of.

Seeing Ryou - the spitting image of his lost brother - must’ve been the last straw. Keith hadn’t cried. Not when Ryou had called him after the ship went silent, not when the announcement came that all crew members were believed to be dead. Not even when he had left the base. He had punched people. He had seethed with rage and he had broken things, but never cried. Now however…

“He promised!”, the younger man cried. A heartwrecking, choked sound. “He promised he’d come back!”

Now, after three months, shock and numbness, disbelief and repression finally faded… Keith cried.

And it broke Ryou…

___

So…. uh… this… this got out of hand? All I wanted was to express my headcanon that Ryou and Keith knew eachother from their time at the Garrison and that Ryou visited Keith after he got expelled. And that they both mourn Shiro together. But somehow I ended up writing way more than I had planned. xD Oh well…

The new trailer for s3 kinda left me adrift because WHAT THE FUCK. Why they keep doing this to me with every new season?! Where’s Shiro? Why’s he not in the trailer?! Why can’t we just… have him back and be save for once? Not knowing if my poor baby survives every new damn season has me stressing like fuck! So I felt like drawing Keith coping with losing Shiro. And then I ended up drawing this and feeling bad for poor Keith! Now I feel like I want to cry my eyes out…

Concept:

Adrien Agreste is desperate. He’s tried asking Nino, but his friend sort of tripped his way into his relationship with Alya by mistake, and he’s not too proud to admit it. Plagg is no help. He’s asked Natalie, only to get a blank look. Plagg is NO help. Adrien’s even asked Gorilla. The man stared at him through the rearview mirror for a full minute before he burst out laughing and didn’t stop even after he dropped Adrien off at school. It was hard not to pout all day.

So now, Adrien is doing what he should have done in the first place - it’s SO obvious, after all. I mean, obviously HE’D be an expert.

‘Come in.’

Adrien walks into his father’s study with shoulders pushed back in his dad’s preferred posture.

‘What did you need?’ his father asked without looking up from his designs, seven different sketched clothes articles being shuffled around to create various combinations.

‘Yeah,’ Adrien said, trying to channel as much of Chat Noir as he could, ‘so dad, you and mum, huh?’

Gabriel’s hand paused delicately where it was poised over a pair of tan women’s trousers.

'I mean, you two…. Got together and everything, you know?’

Adrien watched in fascination as his father’s eyebrows rose very slowly. He wasn’t sure if it was a good sign so he went on.

'And mum was pretty. I mean, REAL pretty. Well of course she was pretty she was a model. But she was. Nice, I mean. And you TALKED to her. And it WORKED. Of course it worked, she married you and you had ME.’

Gabriel Agreste looked like he was almost afraid to talk, but he put the sketches down, steepled his fingers and finally looked up at his son.

'What are you asking exactly, Adrien? I thought Natalie had adequately covered the topic of human sexual reproduction even before you joined College?’

'Not that, dad!’ Adrien replied, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. 'I know all about that. Natalie tested me and everything and I got top marks. I’m asking about all the rest! That’s more important!’

Gabriel Agreste’s eyebrows joined his hairline. He managed to look vaguely nauseous, which was the face he made when he was in any way flustered or uncomfortable.

'All… The rest.’

'Yes!’ Adrien replied, the word exploding out of him when he couldn’t contain it anymore. A river of more words followed it once it had split the dam. 'The flowers and the complements, and the manners and kissing her hand, and being a gentleman! All of that! But I’ve tried it all and it hasn’t worked, so I MUST be doing something wrong! But you landed MUM, so you must have done something really right, so please dad, please teach me?’

Gabriel Agreste may as well be speechless for the first time in his life. He managed, 'What?’

'How to ask out a pretty girl!’ Adrien said in moan. 'The right way! So she says yes!’

Gabriel took off his spectacles to give himself time to think, polishing them off a silk hanky he always carried in his pocket, to give himself time to think. He didn’t think he’d be thinking about this already. But that was the problem with thinking. Once he put them back on, he’d formulated a reasonable response.

'I would like to know who the young lady in question is, before we go any further.’

Adrien’s brain went into panic mode. Darn, darn darn darn, he hadn’t thought of this! What was he going to say? He couldn’t say Ladybug obviously, his dad would never buy it. Quick, think of girls he knew! Girls he knew, girls he knew- ah! Girls from his class! Let’s see; Chloe- ah ah, hard nope, no way. Alya- nope, no way again, bro code. Mylene, yeah, super taken. Alix….. Just no. Darn it all, all he could think of were black hair and blue eyes and - hang on!

'Marinette Dupain-Cheng,’ Adrien squeaked. He hoped his cheeks feeling hot meant he would convince his father. Gabriel stared at him for a moment before he buzzed Natalie from the intercom on his desk.

'Natalie, send me the file of Dupain-Cheng Marinette from the College research folder.’

'Yes sir,’ Natalie chirped back. A few moments of heavy sweating later - for Adrien - his father’s phone pinged, and Gabriel picked it up, thumbing through whatever Natalie had sent. One eyebrow rose higher than the other in the expression his father often made when he was pleasantly surprised. Somehow, Adrien was irrationally pleased his father approved of Marinette, even though he realised he was now totally screwed.

'Designed an album for Jagged Stone,’ his father said, sounding reluctantly impressed. 'You will invite her to dinner next week.’

Gabriel put his phone down, seemingly done with the decision. Adrien tried desperately one more time.

'But, the advice!’

Gabriel looked him straight in the eyes.

'What I’m about to tell you does not leave this room,’ he said solemnly.

'Yes father!’ Adrien replied eagerly.

'The secret,’ Gabriel went on solemnly, 'is puns.’

'I knew it!’ Adrien hissed under his breath.

'Ah, but not just any puns,’ Gabriel admonished. 'That is why you have been unsuccessful. You need to find her interests, formulate humourous sentence arrangements. Drop them with the correct TIMING. Timing is crucial, especially in one particular way.’

Adrien fairly vibrated in his seat as he leaned forward, waiting for his dad to finally tell him the secret.

'You must take her hand, gently. Look her in the eyes, and tell her, without fanfare, how you feel about her. And how that makes you feel: in that order, son. Then, and only then, must you drop a very smart pun, about something she loves, and beg her to consider giving you a chance. Then walk away, let her think about it, and maybe drop another pun on your way out. Make her laugh, so that when she remembers you, she will smile. She’ll call you back within the week.’

Gabriel was smiling for the first time in a whole year, that Adrien remembered. He looked misty eyed and far away before he snapped out of it.

'Natalie,’ he said into the buzzer again, 'contact mlle Dupain-Cheng, invite her to dinner Friday week.’

'Yes sir. I will inform cook and the household.’

'Good.’ Gabriel looked at his son with a determined look on his face. 'I will allow you to see how it is done during this first dinner. I will then expect you to try and learn, with practice, during following invitations. Do not let me down.’

'No sir!’ Adrien replied excitedly. He raced to his room, almost bouncing giddily with joy at how helpful his dad had been. Real advice! With practice!

Then he froze when he realised he was going to be practicing on his sweet, shy classmate, who was likely going to get the entirely wrong idea, and who he had absolutely not the courage to come clean with; not on this.

'Darn’, he hissed into his room. Plagg ignored him and continued to eat his cheese noisily.

Y’all I Think I Got Sonic Forces Figured Out

Okay so I know we are all over the moon about the trailers and game play videos that we have gotten these past few days, but I honestly think that we have been glaring over a pretty CRUCIAL detail from the classic sonic game play video 

Think about what we have heard from the Sega Officials, this is not a Sonic Generations sequel. But how can this be if classic sonic is in the game? How are Sonic’s past enemies here alive and ready to fight? How is it not akin to generations if classic Sonic is alive and here?

But what is he isn’t?

What if this classic sonic isn’t the one from generations at all? But instead, from another dimension? Now I suppose Dr. Eggman may just be referring ro another state of time, but I don’t think the connection stops there. For the most obvious question, how in the WORLD did Eggman take over the world without Sonic to stop him? Its the focus of the game but H O W? In colors, generations and lost world. sonic had made stabs at Eggman claiming “Its like its his job to stop him” because, well? It is. Eggman knows this. He knows it far too well. In generations he went back in time to try to right his wrongs, to redo his errors and end Sonic but time and time again it didn’t happen. So what if Dr.Eggman instead decided to look beyond his world, to another dimension, with another Eggman? But why stop there? Why not bring forth a dimension where Sonic failed? Not only that, but a universe where Chaos destroyed Station Square. A world where Metal Sonic won the race on Starlight Speedway. A world where Shadow never helped to defeat the bio-lizard. A world where the deadly six drained the world of its life? This would explain why Shadow has suddenly switched over to the dark side, why Metal Sonic is still functional, why Zavok is alive and why Chaos is in his earlier forms before he became perfect chaos. 

 Of course, like the Time Eater, Eggman wouldn’t be able to do this on his own, as we have seen with our new villain: 

Now as menacing as he appears, these cubes are so….out of place. It’s strange on why he has all these cubes, and why the trailer makes them look as dramatic as it can. Showing our new villain SURROUNDED by them and then ending the trailer with him hurling them at you. It’s odd. So what are they if the cubes are so important? Well to put it simply,

They’re different dimensions 

Whoever this guy is, he is in control of countless dimensions, more than enough to combine and design a whole new terrible reality. A whole new HORRIFIC dimension, where Sonic has failed, and Eggman reigns supreme. What is the name of this devious villain?

INFINITE 

As in..Infinite worlds?

The clues are right in front of us, and all we had to do was pay attention. The trailer certainly wants to get the point across

Now, I may be jumping the gun on this one, with my head of fan fiction type ideals, and perhaps this new villain will just be connected to whoever you create as your own character, (either it be an evil twin or something like that) but who would want to do this? Who would want to bring total destruction onto a world full of peaceful people? Who would want to see the world burn and fall apart right before their eyes because of their wrong doings? Who would want to see people of the resistance fail hopelessly, desperate to save their once beautiful world? Who would want to team up with Eggman to decimate the world? Who hates Sonic so much that he would want nothing more than to force him to watch as his legacy, friends,home,universe fall apart? WHO IS INFINITE? Well I may be wrong, but there’s only one person who can and will

From the timeline that was erased. From the universe you reversed in Sonic 06. From the world you fought so hard to save and redo, rewriting reality so you could get the happy ending. 

Now, its his turn 

On a side note, Sonic Team knows that sonic 06 was a disaster, and make reference to it in the Sonic story episode in Lego Dimensions. Pretty coincidental or foreshadowing? Some other things we can consider as well could be that in 2012 we first heard rumors of a Sonic game called “Sonic Dimensions” The rumor said that we would be traveling to other universes with different color Sonics that had their own personality. My personal favorite, is a promise of a boss fight of an evil Amy Rose, wishing for Sonic’s pain rather than love. Now the rumor as we know now is false and was debunked and this could very well be a coincidence. However, this rumor broke out in 2012, a year or so after Generations and 1 year before Lost world released in 2013. I think we can safely say that Lost world was at the very least in early stages of production during or sometime after Generations especially with its ambitious game play style. It would have taken more than 2 years to make, with the game play style and everything else. This means, Sonic Forces could had possibly be in the early stages of development a little before Lost World, playing on the idea of different universes.I think it’s also possible that Sonic Forces may had been delayed at some point because of Sonic Boom’s games and tv show, since its not being advertised at the 25th anniversary game. Also is a pleasant time to remember that this happened:

Due to Gravity Falls’s more dark story telling, I think its safe to assume that Alex had some kind of influence on Sonic Forces’s story. Either way, 

We are in for a long deserved fantastic Sonic Game my friends. 

Movie Date

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader, slight Stony

Request:

Could you please write a Peterxreader where reader is the youngest member of the team. One day they have a movie date in the tower and the team spies on them?Could it be in the point of view of the team?[bonus points if deadpool is in it] thanks <3            


Wade has created a chatroom.

Wade has added Natasha, Tony, Thor, Bruce, Steve, Clint, Vision.

Clint: What, Wade?!

Tony: Can we text later? You’re going to distract me!

Bruce: I need to ask, but is it not weird that us, adults, are spying on Y/N and Peter, our youngest and most loved members movie date in a very cramped up spot?

Natasha: If you don’t like it, then you can leave, Banner. It’s not weird. We are just being protective parental units/uncles/adopted android sibling.

Vision: Overprotective*

Steve: Should they be sitting so close? Natasha, should they? Maybe I should go in and sit between them.

Tony: I will kick your ass, Rogers! Don’t you dare ruin their date!

Thor: Grab him, Stark! I shall lay Mjolnir upon him so he may not move.

Steve: Try it and I will run off with Mjolnir!

Thor: You? Worthy? HA! Do not fight us!

Steve: I know you have your doubts. I know deep down you know that I was faking not being able to lift Mjolnir. Would you like to test me?

Thor: Anyone has any rope?

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Viral

Summary: The Ladyblog catches a private moment and Marinette is furious.

This story can also be found on FF.net and AO3.

The video was uploaded sometime after midnight early Saturday morning.  

As was usually the case after an akuma attack, Alya Cesaire had been running on a caffeine rush and adrenaline high that made sleep impossible.  The dedicated blogger would not see the back of her eyes until her copy was written, her files rendered, and her newest masterpiece was live for the entire world to see.

Or at least the majority of Paris.  She was young yet.

Fortunately for the aspiring journalist, the Ladyblog’s wide and devoted readership ensured that the hits would rack up quickly regardless of the time of posting.

What no one could have anticipated, however, was just how quickly.

It started with the local news.

Nadja Chamack’s bright-eyed good morning Paris grin punctuated the more somber news of floods, akumas, and politics with the light-hearted clip.  The segment usually reserved for heartwarming fluff pieces about eye-seeing dogs and neighborhood bake sales was instead taken over by the city’s most reliable ratings machine.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were television gold.

From there the clip hit the major news networks and was being broadcast to the whole of France. Then came the talk shows, the copycat blogs, the online articles, Buzzfeed, and more.  When the video hit the front page of Reddit there was no stopping the infection.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, less than three days after the akuma attack and the video going live, Chat Noir had become the laughing stock of Paris, the Internet, and the world.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absolutely furious.

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evidence that david wymack is the best character in this entire series, part ii

part i, part iii

The Raven King

  • Wymack didn’t care if he had nine Foxes or twenty-five. He’d stand behind them until the bitter, bloody end.
  • “Last I checked Andrew doesn’t like you,” Wymack said.
    • “He still doesn’t,” Neil said, but he didn’t bother to explain.
    • “Interesting.”
  • “Abby wrote me a speech to give you this afternoon. It sounded nice, had lots of stuff about courage and loss and coming together in everyone’s time of need. I tore it up and tossed it in the trash can beside my desk.”
  • Wymack cleared his throat and scratched a hand through his short hair. “Look. Shit happened. Shit’s going to keep happening. You don’t need me to tell you life isn’t fair. You’re here because you know it isn’t.”
  • “I want you on the court in light gear in five minutes or I’ll sign you all up for a marathon.”
  • “I don’t pay for electricity in this place so you can stand around and gossip.”
  • “Andrew Joseph Minyard, what the flying fuck have you done this time?”
  • “Answers now, Aaron,” Wymack said.
    • “I don’t know,” Aaron said.
    • “My ass you don’t.”
  • They were all on time, but Wymack and Abby were conspicuously absent.”
  • “Get your gear and get out of my locker room.”
  • He looked the other way because he knew how badly some of them needed their escapes to survive.
  • It was apparently better to be uncomfortable but safe than to trust a stranger with his fractured team.
  • “Last I checked this was a team meeting, not a gossip circle.”
  • “If any of you so much as look at the Terrapins on your way past their benches I’ll let you walk home from here.”
  • “Some people are just hardwired to be stupid.”
  • Neil had never seen Wymack smile like this. It was small but fierce, as angry as it was proud.
  • “Why did you pay for stalls, Coach?”
    • Wymack lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe I knew you’d need them one day.”
  • Nicky pulled the window down to yell insults, but Wymack threatened him into silence.
  • Wymack pulled a bottle of vodka out of the bag and put it down beside Kevin. “You have ten seconds to inhale as much of this as you can. I’m timing you. Go.”
  • Wymack turned on Neil. “Did you or did you not tell me you weren’t going to start a fight?”
  • “What can I do?” Wymack asked.
    • …”I don’t know,” Neil said.
    • “When you know, tell me.”
  • “Go forth,” Wymack told his Foxes. “Have fun. Or don’t. I don’t care. Just no more fighting, you got me?”
  • “Andrew spent that night here with me. At first I figured he was mad at Kevin for lying to him, but he was more worked up about you.”
  • “I didn’t ask for an apology, wiseass.”
  • Wymack stared at him for an endless minute, then said too quietly, “The fuck did you just say to me?”
  • “He chose to cross a line. You didn’t. You hear me? You didn’t. Don’t ever blame yourself for Seth’s death.”
  • Wymack kept Neil away from the microphone, not trusting Neil to behave himself.
  • “Five points or twenty-six miles. Do the math and decide which one makes you happier.”
  • “Let’s do this,” he said. “The sooner we kill these bastards, the sooner we can get roaring drunk at Abby’s place. I spent all damned morning stocking her fridge.”
  • “I have a cleaning crew coming in tomorrow to wash the Raven stench off our court. Let’s get the hell out of here and get wasted.”
  • “Neil,” Wymack said. “Between you and me, I don’t think you’ve ever been fine.”
  • “Nicky tried to hug Andrew and almost got himself staked with a kitchen knife.”
  • “Speaking of unpredictable assholes, when did that happen?”
    • “When did what?” Neil asked.
    • Wymack eyed him. “Forget it.”
  • “Figure out what you two need to cope with this, and let us know.”
  • “I want one lap for every time you’ve ever said the NCAA’s never had your back.”
    • “Oh, Jesus,” Nicky said. “We’ll be running all day.”
    • “Better get started, then,” Wymack said. “Move out, maggots.”
  • “Be here at six o’clock tomorrow morning,” Wymack said. “We’ve got a game to win Friday.”
  • [Nicky]: “I can’t understand you. That’s not fair.”
    • “Think about that the next time you use German at my practices,” Wymack said.
  • Wymack came out of nowhere and hauled Neil off Riko like he weighed nothing at all.
  • Wymack answered on the fourth ring. “You have a good reason to be bothering me on a holiday?”
  • “He sounds like Neil,” Wymack said, “but he doesn’t look like him. I’ll take your explanation from the top and without a side order of bullshit, thanks.”
  • He stopped fighting to get free; the hands that had been trying to wrench Wymack’s arms off him now held on for dear life.
  • “Can I let go of you and trust you to behave, or are you going to try and cut your face off again?”
  • Wymack didn’t say anything about the scars… He just checked Neil over with a clinical eye and poked at every line of stitches for weaknesses.
  • “He gave me a contract but I wouldn’t sign it. He couldn’t make me sign it. This doesn’t mean anything. I’m still a Fox.”
    • “Of course you are,” Wymack said.

and of course, mine and everyone else’s personal favorite:

  • “Help me,” he said through gritted teeth.”
    • “Let me,” Wymack shot back.
Douchebag gets it....

So this happened quite a few years ago, and the stage will take some setting. It might be more of a Karma than a Revenge story, but you guys seem to appreciate it when a Douchebag takes it up the ass, so here’s a fine tale…

I was working as a dishwasher in a new Fine Dining restaurant in the downtown of a largish city. Chef Paul came from a rich family with a lot of connections, but he made his own way through culinary school and was both talented and dedicated to his art. His family ponied up the cash for a location right downtown in Office Tower Land, but Chef Paul made the place the “hotspot” for the movers and shakers of the town. Our clientele was the Rolex set, people with a string of initials on their business cards and high-powered job titles.

Chef Paul was the nicest guy you could imagine away from the restaurant, but when he was on the cookline, he was an aggressive and abrupt bully of the old school. It was an open kitchen, meaning you could see it from the dining room, so he never raised his voice, but he could chew you out in a low-volume whisper, all the time with a poker smile frozen on his face. This was his show, his restaurant, his baby, and woe be it to the person who fucked up while Chef Paul had his game face on.

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To be foolish

Title: To be foolish

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Summary: Y/N has lived next to Peter since the 3rd grade and since has fallen hard for him, but Y/N doesn’t know he’s fallen just as hard.

Word count: 1,761

Songs: Slow Burn by Autograf

AN: So here’s part 2 of To be young! this part feels a little slow to me but I’m really excited about making the next part, so just bare with me lol. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

Heres Part 1: To be young

tagged@emrysaaryn@bubbles2428@dreaxs@marauder-lover@purecout-ure@therealme13posts , @tomllholland , @manyfandomstohandle

Originally posted by tomhollanderr



Its been about a week since Liz’s party happened and during that time Peter had completely started ignoring you, every time you sat by Peter he would get up and leave. In gym Ned and him started doing their stretches on the furthest part of the gym from you.

You were hurt. More then hurt actually, you felt broken. The guy of your dreams almost kissed you and now you could feel he regretted it, a lot. Hell he could barley even stand looking at you. Michelle finally spoke kicking you out of your horrid thoughts “Hey Y/N how ya holding up?” You felt her hand slowly rub your back in an attempt to comfort you. “Well MJ not very well, I’ve liked peter ever since he moved into that stupid apartment and when i finally got the chance to kiss him, he left me..” you paused looking up from the library table you’ve recently started coming to to seek comfort in being alone, “and he regrets it, he regrets trying to kiss me and won’t even do as much as give me the time of day.” Michelle’s hand dropped from your back and found their way onto your face and turned you to look at her. “Listen Y/N, maybe Peter has an explanation for all this.” She looked deep into your eyes feeling the sadness radiate off of you.

“Just maybe try talking to him?” she suggested pulling her hand away from your face. You sighed, she’s right i need to just woman up and talk to him instead of treating him like he is me. I need to be the mature one in this situation. You grabbed your books off of the table and made your way out of the library and towards Peters locker, Its almost the end of 6th period, the last period of the day.

The bell rang right as you made it to Peters locker and waited silently to confront the boy who made you feel broken, but he never came.

“Uh hey Ned?” you asked when you passed by him on your way to debate club, tired of waiting. Ned shut his locker and mad his way over to you with a smile on his face “Yeah whats up Y/N?” you felt a sick feeling over come you before asking whats on your mind, “Have yo-you seen Pete-Peter anywhere?” You stuttered out your question, averting your eyes from Ned’s suddenly feeling a gross kind of embarrassed over run your feeling of sickness. “No, actually i haven’t seen him since gym.” Ned replied as you two began to walk the same way towards the debate club. “Maybe he’ll be at the debate meeting today.” Ned said with a happy glint in his eyes, “How come you’re looking for him?” your heart drops into your stomach trying to think of something to say other than the truth, “We uh-we’re doing a project in chemistry together and i haven’t been able to get ahold of him.” You lie with a sick smile on your face, the lie seeming to convince Ned as you two walked through the doors of the gym to your now daily debate club meeting.

“Hey you two, hurry up and take your seats.” Liz spoke gleefully with a smile on her face before going back to asking questions to the 4 people sitting at tables on the small school stage for nationals that happen in 2 days.

You were getting settled into your seat next to MJ at the front table when you heard the door open to the small theater room open. You looked up from pulling your binder out of your backpack when you caught eyes with the beautiful chocolate ones that were so intimate with you just a week ago.

His gaze averted from yours making you feel guilty for even meeting his eyes in the first place. “Mr. Harrington, I need you to let me go to nationals.” Peter rushed his sentence out. You let out a small laugh you were trying to keep in. Peters head snapped over in your direction and the smile on your face grew wider and your laugh grew louder at his unexpected look. Not even 2 days have passed since Peter said he wasn’t going to nationals and now he wants to? “Well i don’t know whats up with Y/N but you can’t just show up at the last meeting before nationals and expect to be put back on the team” Flash spits confidently at Peter “Well actually Mr. Parker..” Mr. Harrington shot Flash the “shut up” look with his eyebrows raised “Yes you can, Flash can you grab Peters jacket out of my office desk please.” Mr. Harrington flashed a smile at Flash.

“Peters coming to nationals now?” Michelle lowly whispered just barely audible for you to hear, “this should be interesting.” She smiled down at her notebook as she began drawing god knows what.  


“Alright everyone needs to behave and no sneaking out after the curfew I’ve set, ten o'clock.” Mr. Harrington lectured you and the group of 10 teenagers. Liz, Michelle and you grab your key cards from the front desk and make your way up to your shared room with them. After getting settled in you decided to relax and watch some tv.

“Hey..” your attention got jerked away from the tv when it turned off suddenly “how about we go to the pool?” You looked over to see Liz gleefully smiling at you and Michelle with her bathing suit on. “Now?” you asked getting up off the bed you were sitting on “it’s 10:30 and isn’t the pool closed?” Liz slipped on her flip-flops “No it doesn’t close till 11:30 and Mr. Harrington does have to know, Plus being rebellious is good for moral…” she paused looking between Michelle and you “so hurry up and get your bathing suits on while I go tell the others.” you quickly agree with her and grab your suit out of your draw of the dresser.

“Michelle, you gonna come?” you ask from the bathroom while putting on your swimsuit on “No, I’m good here with the tv.” she replied as she plopped back down on the bed. You shoved your dirty clothes into your suitcase “Well you’ll just miss out on all the fun!” you called out leaving the room and making your way to the pool.

the pool is on the same floor as your shared room so all you have to do is walk down a few hallways, you make a round around the 2nd to last corner when you collide with something, or someone.

You fall back on your butt letting out a few mumbles of cuss words, “Oh god I’m so sorry, that was my-” The person stops when your eyes meet the familiar chocolate ombré orbs, this moment feeling more intimate than intended, you break your eyes away staring at the floor and taking peters now stretched out hand to help you up.

“Ok so-” a voice interrupts the moment you and Peter were having, “oh hey guys!” The smile of Liz comes into your view, “Hey Liz.” Peter coughs and you see a pink shade take over his face, you lowly scoff and roll eyes taking your hand slowly from Peters. “Are you coming to the pool too Peter?” Liz asks as everyone passes by the three of you “I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughs slightly catching your eyes only to look back to Liz just as you were about to say something you might’ve regretted Liz spoke, “Well you should, so hurry up and get your trunks on!” She whisper shouted the last part of her comment and the same pink shade that took over peters face took over hers.

You felt uncomfortable, like you were intruding on a private moment. “Please, its gonna be like a good luck charm for us!” She spoke as she walked away towards everyone else. Peter turned his attention back to you “You’re going swimming i’m guessing?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but your eyes “well you heard Liz, it’s gonna be our good luck charm.” You sarcastically spoke trying to meet Peters eyes with your Y/E/C ones just once.

“Look could we talk about what happened last-” Peters eyes finally caught yours taking you off guard and causing you to choke on your words, the feeling of be unwanted right here in this moment overran your body making you slouch slightly “Look Y/N…” he paused as his phone buzzed in his pocket “I really have to go, could we talk later?” He sighed running his hands through his soft, fluffy brown hair. “Uh sure.” You whispered breaking eye contact with Peter and looking at the floor, Peter sighed once more before walking away “just- just please don’t forget!” You called to him as he turned the corner and out of your sight.

You started making your way to the pool again thinking about what just happened, did Peter even really want to talk? He hasn’t wanted to talk to me at all this past week so maybe he really did regret what could have happened that night. You reached the door to the pool and slid your keycard through the small slot and the door clicked open. You slapped your card down on one of the small tables “there you are!” Flash shouted from in the pool, “I was starting to think you ditched us for penis.” He laughed making your mood even worse than it already was. “Whatever Flash.” You slipped into the pool and just floated on your back looking up at the ceiling with a couple of windows at the top, just admiring the stars and wishing how you could just be one right now instead of having to deal with all of this .. drama? no that’s not the right word for it, but I’m not sure what is maybe- your thoughts get cut off when your eyes meet the ones you saw in the hallway not even 5 minutes ago.

“Peter?” You whisper so quiet no one else hears you, you see Peters eyes widen and then he disappears. You stop and stand on your feet in the small hotel pool still staring up at the window. What is he doing on the roof? Why was he staring at me?

You get out of the pool and grab a designated towel from a small rack in the corner of the room and sit down at a lawn chair.

What is going on?

love letters ❥ peter parker

summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.

word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)

   Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was. 

   Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been. 

    While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.

    He wrote. 

    He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did. 

   Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her. 

   “Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?” 

    Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully. 

   “Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.” 

   Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.” 

    May smiled wistfully. “I do.” 

    “And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks. 


    That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger. 

   “Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up. 

   “Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.” 

    “Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.” 

    Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.  

    Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-” 

    “No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew. 

   Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow. 

    “Do I?” He was practically sweating. 

     “I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.” 

   She called me cute

   “Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?” 

   Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint

   You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly. 

    “Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.

   “You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”   

    “Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?” 

    “You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.” 

    “Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”

    “I’m not much of a writer.”


    So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny. 

   Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much. 

   “It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?” 

   “Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”  

   You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy. 

   “Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left. 

   Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room. 

   “I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him. 

   He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him. 

    “Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him. 

     He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting. 

    “That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right. 

    “Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting. 

   Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life. 

   You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes. 

   “I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected. 

   He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”

   He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s. 

    He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.” 

    Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.

wethesherlock  asked:

any famous nonfamous fics to rec?? 😆

Famous/Not Famous Fic Rec

Wholehearted 77k

AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.

When It’s Late At Night 25k

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that’s exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

The Wonderlands 150k

“Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands.”

Harry’s daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis’ girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

Keep reading

Whiskey

A Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,717 (yup…)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Smut! Sexual penetration, oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, language, drinking, Bucky being everyone’s wet dream…

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I worked HARD on this one and I’m totally proud of it! (and before anyone asks, Howl at the Moon is a real bar in Indiana!) Enjoy. :) 



You stood in the street and looked up at the new sign that was being hung up in front of the building.

Howl at the Moon

Your pride and joy. You smiled with a shake of your head. This bar had just started out a little hole in wall. Nobody knew about it, and you were barely making ends meet with only 2 people on staff.

Now, it was a world-renowned biker bar. People from all over the globe have stopped in. You have worked hard to make it what it is. The many roaring engines from motorcycles and loud laughter rule this spot.

It kept your life interesting.

The alcohol stays flowing all night long and the grill stays hot. Your most popular item on the menu? Beer served in buckets. You would be surprised at how many buckets these burly bikers can put away.

Sing-a-longs, dance-offs and dirty humor keep your patrons coming back for more. Your lady bartenders have been known to jump on the bar to dance to some old rock n’ roll. Yourself included.

Ashley, your best friend, came up beside you and looked at the sign as well. “It looks fantastic.”

You poked her with your elbow, “Well I would hope you think so, you drew up the concept.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head, “I’m a genius.”

You looked up at the black wolf, nose pointed up at a blue moon with a howl. It was really going to stand out at night when it was all lit up.

Keep reading

In Reverse.

Just an idea that i have in mind. 

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Ao3: Click me to read. 


Lance had many hidden talents. He could sing, he could play the guitar, and was the only one in his family that could rival his mother cooking. 

And, to everyone’s surprise, he was really good at flirting. Yes, he liked to joke around and tell girls stupid pick-up-lines, but he knew none of the things he said were going to get him somewhere with them. To be honest, it was only a game for him. 

His stupid flirting always got people to laugh, to relax, which was his main goal. 

But his actual flirting? Well, it always got him whatever he wanted.

Do you want to get into a place for free? Just bat your eyes and giggle a little. If you can, show a bit of skin. Do you need a favor? Call the person pretty names, hug them. Be a little more touchy, but still keep a distance. You don’t want them to think they can touch you whenever they want. Do you need money or need to buy something? Well, you need to work more for that one. Be nice, have little details with them. Hug them, hold their hand. Let them know that you care and you want something more than just a friendship even when you don’t. Be subtle, act naive and just drop hints that you want or need things. If you have them well wrapped around your finger, they will get anything that you ask for just to make you happy. Don’t forget to give them a few kisses, you need to keep them interested! If they start asking for more just leave them immediately.

To be honest, Lance was not… Truly proud of this talent. He didn’t like playing with other people’s feelings, but he did what he had to do to help his family. They didn’t have much money, and his mother and father struggled a lot to make sure they could attend to school and had something to eat everyday. 

His flirtation was something he did to have fun once in a while, but after he realised how much he was getting from it he started taking advantage. At first they were simply stuff. Being able to go to places without spending a penny was good. He could still have fun without wasting his parents money on unnecessary things.

But then he started meeting new people. And these persons he met were wealthy as fuck. And Lance use this on his favor… He befriend them, he started flirting, and then manipulated into paying his family debts. Of course, for them it was nothing. Just more money to throw away in order to impress Lance and get on his good side. 

For him? It meant everything when the bills arrived and saw the relief and confusion on his parents faces.

He stopped doing when he thought it was enough and spent the rest of his days studying to get a full scholarship on the Garrison to try to fufill his dream of becoming a pilot to travel the universe. 

Of course, he never expected going so soon and becoming a part of as important as Voltron. To be honest, Lance felt really out of place. All of his teammates had amazing skills and great things to offer. Him? He didn’t have much, really. His talents weren’t a thing people usually looked for in a warrior.

Yes, he was smart ans was getting so much better in battle. But he didn’t have anything especial. 

They took Zarkon down. They didn’t kill him, but he was to hurt to keep fighting. Everyone saw this as an opportunity to take the Galra Empire down now once and for all thinking that now they didn’t have a ruler it was going to be much easier. 

Needless to say, they were wrong. 

A new ruler arrived. His name? Lotor. An old friend of princess Allura. He asked for an audience with her. She accepted, claiming that she once knew him and that he deserved the benefit of the doubt. 

They introduced themselves to the prince after he greeted Allura. They took their helmets off. Lance didn’t fail to notice the look Lotor was giving him. 

Lotor was… Different. For the way he talked, everyone could see Lotor wasn’t too comfortable with following his father’s wishes, but was too loyal to go agaisnt him. 

The prince, unlike his father, had feelings.

Voltron and Allura talked with the prince for hours. Once they realised they wouldn’t conviced Lotor to give up the fight, Allura changed the topic to more personal matters. Even when he was an enemy, he used to be her friend and was the only one apart from Coran and Zarkon who was left from her time. 

Lance stared at the prince, shared some coy smiles and exchange a few words. When they changed from room, he put himself besides him and touch his shoulder after telling a joke. 

Some laughed, some rolled their eyes. 

Maybe he wasn’t as skillful as his friends, but Lance wasn’t an idiot either. If there was something Lance knew how to do, it was playing with people’s feelings.

The prince blushed, and he called it a victory.



I asked myself many times, “what if instead of Lotor manipulating Lance feelings, it was Lance who did the manipulating?”  and this came out. i may write more if people like this ???? and leave comments ???? idk love you all ♥  

Kitchen Favours

Jughead x Reader
No one asked for this, but I’ve had this idea in my head for ages so thought it was finally time to let it out into the world.
Prompt: Y/N and Jughead work at Pop’s together. Cheryl winds up Y/N which leads to a heated moment between Jughead and Y/N.
Warnings: Strong smut themes 

Originally posted by bettytail

“You know you don’t have to stay with me” you smile, setting down the waitress pad on the kitchen counter next to you. You lean your hip on the counter as you stare at Jughead, an apron still tied around his waist. Since the Drive-In closes Pop’s offered Jughead a job here, just a couple of nights a week, the odd weekend. He spend half of his life here anyway, Pop’s just thought he might as well make some money at the same time. 

You had been working at Pop’s for around a year now. You were the one who trained Jughead, not that the place was complicated at all. He’d even started to cook some of the food, helping out the chefs from time to time, like tonight, he was covering for the Thursday night chef.
“And what would you do if you got a order in?” he asks, raising his eyes in a cocky manner towards you, setting down a spatula on the counter next to you.
“I’m sure I can manage to flip a burger and cook a few fries” you smirk back, laughing at his confidence. When Jughead joined it was the first time you had ever spoken to each other. Sure, you had seen him around school, hanging with Archie Andrews and Betty Copper, but the two of you had never needed to speak to each other, or even acknowledge each others existence until a couple of weeks ago. Since then the two of you had create a little friendship based on flirty jokes which the both of you knew meant absolutely nothing.
“Are you calling my job easy?” He smirks back, taking a step closer to me. He stops at the counter, leaning himself against it as he looks down at me.
“I’m saying you shouldn’t underestimate me” I say with a wink, making him smirk even more. His head so close to mine as a piece of dark hair falls into his eyes, shading his already dark eyes.

“Anyway” I sigh, breaking away from the eye contact that neither of us seemed to break. “I was just thinking of you getting home. Won’t Archie and his dad be worried about you? Seeing as you were so careless not to tell them where you were” you tease him. He sighs as he takes a step back from the counter which he was still leaning against.
“Trust me, I think they’ll be fine. Fred is working late and Archie has Veronica round, so don’t think they’ll want disturbing for a while now” he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

It’s at that moment you hear the bell on the door ring, indicating you finally had customers. You walk out to see Cheryl and her minions sat in the booth closest to the kitchen you had just walked out of. You roll your eyes discretely at the sight of them, hoping they hadn’t seen. Placing a fake smile on your face you walk over.
“Hi” you smile politely, pulling out the pen you had balanced behind your ear.
“Look who it is girls” Cheryl gives an unfriendly smirk in your direction as the other two girls look over and start giggling. You look confused for a moment before choosing to ignore them. You tried to ignore the rumours and crap Cheryl often spread around so often. They usually were false, malicious attempts to hurt someone for no reason other then her boredom.
“What can I get you?”
“Tell me, Y/N” Cheryl says, folding her arms as an evil smile spreads across her face like a disease. “What was he like?”
“What was who like?” you ask, drawn into her comments just like she wanted.
“Moose?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh come on Y/N. Everyone knows he took your virginity last night. He’s telling anyone and everyone” she smirks, the other girls laughing.
“That’s… that’s a lie” you stutter.
“Right” they laugh like a pack of hyenas, you their new prey.
“Excuse me” you take a sharp intake of breath before walking back into the kitchen. Throwing your waitress pad back down on the counter as hard as possible, feeling more angry then anything.

“Wow. Y/N what’s wrong?” Jughead asks, his eyes wide from shock at your act.
“Just get rid of them please” you say through gritted teeth, pointing out the door to the restaurant.
“One second” he say, touching your arm gently as he walks out the door to the booth. You hear a mumbling sound before the bell rings on the door and the door slams shut behind them. Jughead cautiously walks back into the kitchen where you were still stood.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” He asks confused, trying not to push too hard as your anger was clear.
“No.” you sigh, breathing deeply. Completely in shock of the moment. Why would they say that? Why would they think you and Moose even slept together in the first place? Unless… Unless Moose said it himself?
“That asshole!” you say to yourself through gritted teeth. You turn to faced Jughead who is still staring at you confused. “Moose is spreading a rumour that he took my virginity”
“Your a virgin?” Jughead jokes, giving a confused look.
“Now is not the time Jug”“
"Sorry. Sorry” he apologises honestly, holding up his hands as if to surrender. “Why would he do that?” he asks, finally walking forward so he was leaning on the counter in front of you. It was only a small kitchen so as the two of us stand there out feet practically touch.
“The idiot asked me out the other day. After everyone found out he was at Sweet-water with Kevin I guess he wanted to make people think that he wasn’t gay. I said no. He’s not my type anyway. The asshole must have got worried about his ego and made up some story about us going out. Which of course involved him taking my virginity” you sigh, tipping your head back too look at the bright lights on the ceiling.
“I’m sorry Y/N” he sighs, reaching over to hold you arm to console you.
“I can’t believe this. No way in a million years would I give my virginity to a jock, last of all Moose” you say with a small laugh, trying to calm yourself down, a little part of your blood still boiling as you think of all the shit you will have to deal with tomorrow.
“I can’t believe your still a virgin” he laughs.
“Ugh.” you groan, feeling the need to explode.
“I really can’t. Y/N your amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have yo-”

“No one seems to get me though Jug. Whenever you tell people it’ll be your first time they always tell you they’ll go slow with you. That your first time is special.” you blurt, taking a step forward due to this sudden wave of anger. “Well how can it be special if it’s just some awkward fumble on a guys couch or in the back of their car. Where’s the heat in that? People think they’re being so romantic in ‘I’ll take it slow with you’ but its not! I want the heat. I want the passion. That’s romantic. No one seem’s to get that.”

Jughead just stand there staring at you, looking you up and down as if tying to take in everything your saying.
“Even if my first time if with some stranger. Or it’s just a pointless one night stand. As long as it is not this typical teen fantasy of first times, I’ll be happy. I just want that fire, you know?” you look at him. His eyes suddenly darker then usual.
“Got it” he smirks, suddenly stepping closer to you, placing his arms under your legs and pushing you onto the kitchen counter behind you. Your head gently knocks the cupboard above the counter as suddenly his lips attach to yours. The breath is knocked out of you as you take in what is happening. His lips work desperately on yours, sucking on your lower lip as his hand cups the back of your neck, the other still placed on your leg, holding you tightly. You moan into the kiss, glad there were no customers tonight to hear the two of you.
His lips start to roam down your face to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.
“Jughead…” you say breathlessly, part of you wanting to ask what was happening, the other part wanting to see what happened next.
You let out a loud moan as he begins to suck on a spot on your neck, sure to leave a mark later. Your hands roam to his head, pushing your hands through his already messy hair, pulling him closer so he smirks against your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him in. Your hands pull on his hair as you roll your hips against his, making him moan just as loud.
Quickly his lips press against yours again as his hands roam down to the bottom of your black work t-shirt, pulling desperately on it. You pull your lips away from his and lift your arms as he pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it away on the floor, his lips immediately attaching back on your neck as he roams lower, biting lightly on your shoulder. Your hands finger the bottom of his shirt as you lift it up over his head.
His lips begin to roam lower then your shoulder, biting and sucking on parts of your skin. Your head falls back on the cupboard counter as his hand begins to roam up the inside of your thigh. You moan again as he bites a sensitive spot, his hand sliding further up your thigh. You hear him smirk against your skin as you moan, cocky with how he was giving you everything you craved.
“Shut it Jones” you say breathlessly as one hand slides down his back, the other going to his hair as you pull his head up to meet your, your lips crashing together again in a rush. Finally Jughead’s hand slips to the waistband of your jeans…

“Jughead. Y/N. I’m back” Pop’s shouts as he enters the diner.

Muñeca.

Paring: Bucky Barnes/Hispanic!Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Reader being a HUGE flirt, spanish, talk about books and music in spanish, fingering, sofa sex, Bucky using some words in spanish. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1881.

Rating: 18+.

Masterlist.

Apparently some people in this fandom (read White People) have a problem with authors writing for readers of color, since I am a real Bitch and I’m fresh out of fucks I decided I was gonna write not one, but two POC Reader inserts, this is one of them. The next one is gonna be Black!Reader and Bucky. This is dedicated to that anon @papi-chulo-bucky got last week who was crying about Haunting Me being a POC reader insert and, of course, to all the other bitches who want to complain about POC!Reader inserts being discriminatory towards White People.

Yes, I’m The Queen of Salt.

Tagging; @sexylibrarian1 @thecrownedrose @erisjade @bladebarnes @ryverpenrad @acunningstargazer @palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress @supernatural-girl97 @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

I mention my dad’s favorite book “Love in the Time of Cholera” by Gabriel García Márquez, you should check his books out.

Also, mentioned in the fic this argentinian group (hey! @connieisland) called Soda Stereo here are two songs one and two

And the lyrics are from this song by a Venezuelan rapper called Reis Belico.

Wow. This was long. By the way, Muñeca means doll.


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Part 1 | next >>
Heaven Sent index

Even from a distance, the villa looked enormous. Shouyou could see it perched on the hill from the time he set out from the temple, gleaming white under the sun during the day, and lit up by fires shining within its walls when he stopped at an inn for the night.

He had always seen it, of course, from the time he’d been small, allowed to play outside the temple in the dirt with the other children. The Centurion’s Villa, the owner of the land they lived on. For that privilege, they were taxed, though not an unfair amount. Every month, the temple sent an acolyte to deliver the payment to the villa, as a sign of respect to the one who lived there.

For years, one of the priests had been the one to make the trip, but he had twisted his ankle two nights previous. In his stead, the elders had selected Shouyou to go, because he was young and had enough energy for the trek.

They were concerned about his manners and how he would present himself to the villa on the hill, but after much lecturing, he was sent off, to fulfill their obligation and return. It had taken him nearly two days to reach the villa, but on the eve of the second, he’d finally arrived, as the sky grew dusky and purple.

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the millionaire and his lover | jjk

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

summary: over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception. 

{self-gratuitous ceo au, friends-to-lovers, and fake relationship trope rolled into one big shitstorm of a jungkook fic}

word count: 18k

warnings: very light smut, shitty angst

a/n: hello all! i wanted to kickoff my writing on this blog with a bang, so here’s a longish fic on my wildest dreams. feel free to request things in my inbox here!

When you first tell people that you happen to know CEO and multimillionaire Jeon Jungkook, they tell you one of three things:

1: You’re so lucky! Could you introduce me?

2: You must have saved an entire country in your past life.

3: Is he as much of an asshole as the news outlets make him out to be?

What you don’t say, though, is this: You and Jungkook have had history for as long as you could remember. As not only neighbors, but also childhood friends, you happen to know quite a lot about the man who made a name of himself before he even graduated from university. You would also very much like to keep quiet the fact that you’ve harbored a crush on the boy for quite some time now, obvious to everyone whose name isn’t Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook is, in one word, brilliant. He is brilliantly intelligent, brilliantly talented, brilliantly beautiful. He is suave and smooth and gets what he wants and if he didn’t possess such a disdain for the tabloids that do nothing but stretch the truth, he would have them wrapped around his finger. Sure, he’s no actor or singer, but he is a celebrity, and a skilled one at that. The media know no boundaries when it comes to a man like Jungkook, painting him as stunning yet rude, rich yet selfish, smart but cold. You know they blow his brief affairs out of proportion, and you know they will never know the boy who fell off of his bicycle in the second grade.

Jungkook is not powerful enough to replace the stars in your sky, but he is powerful enough to rearrange them right in front of your eyes, creating endless constellations that all remind you of him. He is the boy you have cherished since your elementary school days, when he would accidentally drool on your shoulder and throw sand into your mouth, and you are the girl who, despite all class differences, has stuck by him through thick and thin. It is not enough, but perhaps to him, it is.

“Do you ever try to mooch off of his wealth?” People ask you. “I would.”

And sure, every now and then you will ask him for money and he will give it to you, but your intentions are pure and you do not, will not, ever take his generosity for granted. Not when he has so much and you so little. You know what life is like when the world keeps trying to trip you, and a bit of smooth ground is not enough to keep you from forgetting the struggle.

That is, until you get laid off your job due to an influx of new workers, and your next student debt payment is due in roughly, a week.

What?”

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just your heart beating close to mine

for nurseydex week, day 2 - bed sharing

Nursey’s a clingy drunk.

Freshman year, Dex hated it. He and Nursey spend all their sober time bickering; fighting nonstop about everything from politics to slapshot form to whether ketchup belongs on scrambled eggs (Dex will never fucking admit it, but he’s actually started to find it delicious; Nursey can never know). But the second Nursey slips over the line from tipsy to drunk, he’s Dex’s best friend–hanging off Dex’s shoulders, draping his feet into Dex’s lap, hell, draping himself into Dex’s lap, two hundred pounds and then some of languid muscle. He’s sweet when he’s drunk, his chirps soft and fond instead of scathing, and his fingertips are gentle when they wander over Dex’s skin, dipping under the collar of his t-shirt, brushing against the short hair at the nape of his neck.

And Dex hated it, because morning would come, and hungover Nursey is clingy too but not in the same way, and they were always back to sharpness, and Dex would have to pretend he didn’t get home from those kegsters and throw himself into very, very cold showers.

Sophomore year, it’s a little better. They’re friends more often than they’re not, but on the flip side, that means the rest of the team actually trusts Dex to be on Nursey Patrol (“If you don’t want to kill him all the time, we can probably trust you to make sure he doesn’t drink himself into a coma,” Bitty said cheerfully the first time, shoved Nursey, already tipsy, towards him, and disappeared onto the dance floor with a solo cup in his hand).

Except Nursey Patrol, he learns, doesn’t end with the kegster. No, Nursey Patrol ends with Nursey safe in his bed, at least out of his shoes but ideally in something comfortable enough to sleep in, after a cup or two of water and two tabs of Aspirin, his phone plugged in and the door to his room locked.

(Dex does not want to know the series of events that led to this level of Patrol being in place. If he thinks about it too hard, his chest starts to hurt, and he doesn’t wanna deal with that.)

But–

“Dexy,” Nursey says, as Dex manhandles him down to his bed and then flops down next to him, hauling Nursey’s foot into his lap to start on his shoelaces, because Three Cups of Tub Juice Derek Nurse is not a Derek Nurse who has the coordination for tasks involving dexterity. Dex had said that, once, and Nursey had said “ha, Dexterity,” and giggled for ten minutes. “Dex, will you stay with me?”

(read the rest on AO3, or read more below)

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Chew Toy

Request: “Could you please write something where the reader is best friends with the marauders, especially Remus and Sirius? And at a party after a won quidditch game they all get drunk and end up in a threesome.”

Pairing(s): Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin, James Potter x Lily Evans

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: READER GETS DOUBLE TEAMED! ALSO WOLFSTAR IS STRONG IN THIS FIC! LOTS OF SMUT AND DIRTINESS AND I AM GOING TO HELL!

The pounding music had been ongoing throughout the entire night since the end of the Quidditch match, your dorm room door barely muffling the sounds of constant laughter, chatter, and overall rowdiness. Your friends had been prettying themselves up, hoping to at least make out with one of the boys or girls on the team, since everyone downstairs was too drunk to care who they had a little fun with.

“You coming (Y/n)?” Your roommate giggled after taking a shot of Firewhisky.

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you had stuffed up your lipstick for what had to be the third time. “In a sec. It was probably a bad idea to start drinking before I started my makeup, huh?”

Your friends laughed at your crooked grin, promising to meet you down there. You waved them off, knowing for certain that by the time you got down there, they would all be off getting laid.

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