please forgive me it took so long until i made it

Aries —
oh, my sweet, sweet child, what has the world done to you? you were a bright promise,
the tomorrow we had hoped for, holding flowers in your mouth without crushing them
and trusting blindly in those around you. and then came the blood; and now your fire
is a quiet thing, a crackling murmur hidden in the shadows. you’ve curled into yourself
like a newborn babe, held your heart tightly to your chest and began the tedious healing.
and all the salt in your tears made the deep wounds sting; was it this what kept you pure?
I wonder, oh, I wonder. before you, I had never seen an anathema so full of innocence.
(the world tried to cast you down from paradise; and it succeeded. but the fall couldn’t
maim you, for fire cannot kill fire – it simply shrunk you, much like a mimosa bloom.
I hope one day you’ll feel safe enough to flower, for there is so much beauty in you.)


Taurus —
I wish I could wrap my hands around your shoulders and hold you close for a while,
because oh, what sad things they are, your bones. I am so sorry, beloved; so very sorry.
and I am well aware these apologies cannot change anything, but I want you to know
that there is someone who sees you as you are – even when all the others see is your
superfluous frivolity and your desire for riches, I see the thoughtful mind, the gentle
gestures, each and every of your heartbeats. the song of you is imprinted into my memory
as the change in seasons is; you are unforgettable, something so precious and so very dear.
(don’t let them shame you for your greed – those who try to do so cannot wrap their
all too little minds around the fact that sin is not necessarily negative. your love for gold
has root in the same place as your love for others; you only want it so you may share it.)


Gemini —
it’s lonely, isn’t it? not being the way all others are. they tell you you’re a forgery, that your
smile is a mask and your composure an act, simply because they cannot accept the idea
that people are supposed to be multidimensional. on and on they go, pinning their ignorance
to you under the name of blame, seeing in you only that which they wish to see. sometimes,
you wish you were like them. I know you do. you shouldn’t. it might be lonely where you are,
but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing; lonely doesn’t mean secluded. there are others like you,
with minds like diamonds. others like you, who are only habitual in their tendency for change.
(you will find someone who can make sense out of you, one day, you know. they’ll know you
better than you yourself do – every single aspect of you, every single frantic facet and feeling.
and when you do, the wait will be more than worth it. I promise you won’t die nor live alone.)


Cancer —
you poor, poor, poor thing. it’s been a thousand years since you’ve curled into yourself, hid
your heart deep in the cradle of your ribs and let yourself sleep; then the time came for you
to awaken, and you found the world unchanged – it was as if everything had stood still.
reality swept into you like saltwater into gaping wounds, and every fiber of your soul wept.
fearful, you took the broken glass road still, walked it fully aware of what laid in waiting;
like a bride the night she is wed to a stranger, you swallowed your terror and saw it through.
often, those ignorant make you out to be such a bumbling coward. you’re not. you just aren’t.
(in fact, you’re on of the bravest people I know; it takes so much courage to let the world
see you weep – and it takes even more of it to wipe your tears and keep moving forward.
above all, it takes immense courage to allow yourself to love even when you know it’ll hurt.)


Leo —
the size of your heart puts to shame both Jupiter and your own pride and ego; to this day,
I am not sure if you would have been better off with one much smaller, but I know for sure
the world would have been emptier by far. you see, your touch is one of gold; whomever
you decide to invest your time and love into grows the size of Atlas, and so, without you
as you are now there would have been much less in the world. that is your downfall, isn’t it?
always has been. the way you’ve always put others first, giving them all of you, never asking
for anything to be given to you in return. you are a gardener, dearest, and people are your roses.
(it breaks my heart that all your selfless effort was almost always repaid in hurt and sorrow;
know that you are not to be blamed for any of it. you have done nothing wrong – sometimes,
things simply fall apart. don’t shut your heart. I’d hate to see your love rot and turn to hatred.)


Virgo —
you have endured well the contempt of others, my dear; you have taken every blow with open arms.
they have called you frigid and prude and arrogant and everything in between, but you knew better.
tell me then: if you can endure so well the slander of others, if you don’t care what they make of you,
why do you worry so? why do you see only blemishes when you look at yourself in the mirror?
your hesitance to trust others stems in your fear that if you let them in they’ll see your ugliness, all
the imagined imperfections you see in your reflection. you can’t trust others because you don’t trust
yourself; and I wish so badly that you would have a little more faith in who you are, in your beauty.
(being unable to forgive, jealousy and lust do not make you terrible. hate is human nature as much
as love is; emotions, be they bad or good, are intrinsic to mankind. you are such a passionate being,
despite your outward delicacy, and that, my dear, is simply stunning. please try to love yourself.)


Libra —
darling child, didn’t the gods tell you the mob sees dancers as something of the devil, especially
when their preferred stage is the sharp edge of a sword? few in this world love truth, and fewer still
are fond of things like righteousness and justice. your ability to remain indiscriminate in the face
of contradictory realities and deny none of them is both a blessing and a curse. your mind, I fear,
is the Pandora fate has crafted specifically for you; a beautiful gift that hides such doom and sorrow.
and you are aware of all of this – how you were meant for greater things, with your noble mind
and your true heart, yet on you dance, fighting against the windmills of adversity. how brave you are.
(know that your effort will not go without reward. know that you won’t be forever unloved, nor
will you be forever misunderstood. there will be those whom, like you, have the makings of just men,
and they will understand. keep your eyes open and search the crowd; that is what you do best.)


Scorpio —
I look at you and my heart grows small; there is so much sadness in you, from the flower
of your eyes to the slouching arch of your shoulders. you have been misjudged
and falsely accused for so long: whore, they said; monster, perverter, sickness of the soul –
and all of it because you like sex, as if somehow they are the virgin mary reborn,
the goddamn hypocrites. this, too, is something they have misunderstood; it is not sex
that you crave or are interested in. it is intimacy: it is the vulnerability that comes with having
your soul completely bared and lain before another; you crave love, in its’ purest of forms.
(and I know they have convinced you that someone of your kind is not “worthy”; fuck that.
your love is priceless, and one day someone will call your battle scars a masterpiece.
one day someone will love you as wholly as you deserve to be loved. they will love all of you.)


Sagittarius —
there is such wanderlust in you – you’ve made a home out of the long, long roads,
walked the earth to its’ ends and bathed in the oceans of the horizon; the sky was
your sole companion, its’ stars your map, the wind a spellsong to ward off the passing
sadness and melancholia that threatened to dim the flame of your heart. oh, my child;
how very wonderful you are, a barefoot nomad forever in awe of the world. the feeble
minded call you rootless; how wrong they are. having a voyager heart does not make you
afraid of commitment. it simply means your roots lie elsewhere, splat across the world.
(do not let their malice plant doubts into your mind’s garden; your gypsy heart is worth more
than all their empty ones combined. keep daring the world, sate your thirst for journeying;
only exploration can ever lead to discovery, so let your feet and head both walk the world.)


Capricorn —
good god, you’re so tired. life has worn you down to the marrow of your bones,
took everything from you until you were bare-handed; and yet.
and yet you’re still here, standing before me, your spine hardened to titanium,
a delicate thing that can withstand even the most apocalyptic of sieges;
you still find it in you to smile, bitter-bloody-all-teeth and still happy, somehow.
know that I am proud of you; of your bravery, of your resilience,
of how you’ve clung to life by the skin of your teeth. I am proud of you.
(and know that you deserve happiness – you may feel like you don’t, you may feel
that it is above the likes of you, but you deserve it; you have earned it.
know that one of these days, the sun will shine down on your lane, too.)


Aquarius —
there’s so much of you inside your skin I am often surprised it has yet to come apart at the seams;
there’s so much of everything inside your skull I am left in awe of your bones – often I wonder,
how are they strong enough to contain the exploding universe inside? my god, this world of ours
has seven wonders and you are all of them. the fortitude of your bright mind ceaselessly
surprises me; I know what to expect, and yet I am still thrown off by your ingenuity and your
ability to remain rational in your abstract ways. nobody but you is open enough to accept it all;
nobody but you can see through the prism of all eyes and walk away with their sanity intact.
(I know they call you “cold”, an ice queen of the Siberian tundra. let them be. those who cannot
see your white-hot warmth are not worthy of your brilliance. you are the brightest star, my dear,
someone accepting and embracing of it all. do not settle for anyone that is blind to your light.)


Pisces —
and how terrible it must be for you, who lives always halfway, to be stuck in a world
that demands certainties which you will never have to give. it is not to say you don’t want
to be resolute – you simply cannot. your world does not have truth, nor does it have falsity;
all that your world has are colors, swirling, forever mingling anew like the clouds in the sky.
one day you are overflowing with everything that blooms inside of you, and lilies
are spilling out of your ribs; the next, you’re empty, and you can’t for the life of you
find something that is all-encompassing enough to fill the growing abyss south of your sternum.
(know that it is okay. the most humane thing you can be is full of contradictions;
as maddening as it can be, each paradox gets you closer to the entity your peers call god.
it was never the devil that built his home on the crossroads, you know. embrace your nature.)

—  poetry for the signs: the “you’ve done well” edition, L. Schreiber
Guys My Age (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW gifs. 

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Enjoy the smot. And please use protection people. Better safe than surprised. I think this is dirtiest fic I’ve written so far.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 1

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Close enough

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Pairing: Jimin X reader

Fandom: BTS

Request:  Hey could you please do an imagine where the reader and jimin are fighting and he says that he hates that she’s really clingy and he hates when she ‘steals’ his clothes and that hurts you but you didn’t show it and then you guys make up but you still thought about what he said so you stopped being clingy and stopped wearing his clothes and doesn’t realize at first but when does, he feels really bad and sad bc he loves when u are clingy and loves when you wear his clothes.

Originally posted by kths

Your eyes followed your boyfriend’s annoyed figure as he paced around the room. Today must have been really stressful for him because since he came through the door he’s been nothing but on edge. A small thought in the back of your head told you not to pick a fight with him but another part of you knew that you didn’t need to be treated rudely because of something that effected him at work. 

“Fine. Look, I’m sorry….Let’s just drop it..” You told him, sitting back on the bed. 

Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking back at you.

“Drop it? Y/N this might not be a big deal to you but this isn’t something I’m just going to drop!”

You grew silent as you heard his voice raise towards you. He groaned, bringing his hands up to his face. 

“All I’m saying is I can’t have you texting me all the time. I already got scolded once for responding during a meeting and I really don’t need to be on my boss’ bad side right now. It’s just- too much…Sometimes I feel like you’re always trying to talk to me about something and I need personal space. I don’t get why that’s so hard for you to grasp..” He mumbled.

“I just missed you. I didn’t think it was a big deal-”

“You didn’t think. That’s my point.”

You tilted your head, giving him a direct look. 

“What the hell is your problem today? I already said I was sorry..”

Jimin sat down on the bed. 

“There’s just so much going on right now and I just don’t need you always on me. Maybe we should take a break or something.” 

Your eyes widened at the words you feared most besides, “I think we should break up”. 

“You can’t be serious-”

You hand extended to hold onto your boyfriend’s arm but Jimin pulled his own away. 

“I can’t do this right now. I can’t hear about how much I’m away from you, I can’t deal with you always stealing my clothes, or waiting for me to come home, or making jokes about me leaving you all the time. I’m tired of you being so clingy!”

The tears you were holding back started to well up on your eyes until your vision became blurred. You hadn’t realized how he really felt about all of this. You had just assumed that all those times you were missing him that he was feeling the exact same way. You stood up from the bed, sliding the hoodie of his that you were wearing and threw it onto the ground. 

“Fine! I won’t be!” 

Seeing you cry must have really hit a nerve in him because before you were able to head out of the door he stood up in front of you. He held you against his chest even as you tried to push him away. 

“Wait. I didn’t mean it about the break thing. This went way too far and I crossed the line. I wasn’t trying to make you cry, I just got upset over nothing.”

He looked down at you but you avoided looking up at him as your head was now resting on his chest. He could feel your head move every time you sniffled, just giving him even more guilt.

“This isn’t really about you texting me too much. I think the lack of sleep and over working is just getting to me…I’m really sorry. I’m taking this out on you when it’s not even your fault.” 

You felt his warm hands come up to your cheeks as he leaned your head up to face him. 

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered. 

Jimin used his sleeve as an attempt to wipe your tears off and by the look in his eyes you could tell he really meant what he was saying. You knew this sort of stuff was hard on him but you wish he wouldn’t hold it all in until he explodes all the time. Nonetheless you accept your boyfriend’s apology by giving him a nod.

“Seriously. If I ever do something like this again I really wouldn’t blame you for leaving me.”

The worried expression on his face made you crack.

“I get it.” You let out.

Jimin gave you a light kiss on top of your forehead.

“Should we get ready to go out for dinner then? It’s on me.” He said in a convincing tone.

Seeing the puppy eyes he was giving you, you gave in instantly.

“Alright.” You smiled, running off to get dressed.

Ever since that one fight things seemed a little off between the two of you. He would do things that made you think he was still trying to make up for that one day and even though it still bothered you, you wish he would just let it go. You tried to be empathetic but you didn’t want him to keep doing things just to keep you happy. You wanted things to just be normal so you decided that maybe it wasn’t all just because of work. Maybe he actually wanted space and was afraid to come to terms with it and tell you. From now on you didn’t send him good morning texts at work, no checking up on him, no telling him that you miss him or think about him, no more wearing his clothes because their comfortable or smell like him, no more waiting for him to come home in the living room, and no more random I love you’s.

Jimin also was taking notice of the new changes between you both. He was, in fact, trying to do things to make up for what happened because of how bad he felt. He’d bring home presents, take you out, try to text you more often, and just overall praise you whenever you were around. The problem was he couldn’t help but think you were mad at him still since you started to distance yourself. That is until he realized the things he spewed off during the fight between you. He wondered if you were distancing yourself because of what he said despite him not meaning it. Jimin loved coming home to finding you waiting for him or surprising him with how much you loved him. He missed seeing you wake up wearing his shirt from last night or stealing a hoodie or two from his closet. He never really noticed how much he loved those things about you until they were gone. It was starting to drive him crazy.

As you’re sitting on the couch on your laptop you hear him come home, shutting the door in a rush. You pretend to be uninterested, just scrolling through your dashboard but you hear him walk all the ways over to you. As his figure shadows over you, you look up at him.

“You’re home-“

“I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what I can do to take all of what I said back but I want to. I miss you like crazy and god, I love you so much, you know that? There isn’t a second that I’m not thinking about you and there’s not a second that goes by that I’m not reminded of you. I want you to take wear my stuff until it smells like you, I want you to text me during work to tell me what you can’t wait to do until I’m home, I want you to just-…I want you to love me like you did before.”

Speechless you sit up from your seat to face him properly as you push aside the laptop in your lap. You hadn’t expected him to come home like this nor did you think you were the one doing the wrong thing. You thought you were just doing what he wanted but there was a hidden guilty pleasure from hearing him admit how much he needs you.  You decided to just tease him a little bit more.

“Hmm, I don’t know. It’s just not really my thing anymore and I think you were right. Somethings are just better left unsaid. I mean you already know I love you, why would I need to tell you that daily?”

Jimin groaned, pouting like a child.

“Y/N…”

You crossed your arms across your chest.

“Yes, Jiminie?”

Without warning you feel him cup your face like before but instead of wiping your tears you felt the familiar feeling of his soft, full lips being pressed up against yours. He took 5 long seconds to completely make you feel as if you were going to melt in your seat just from one kiss. As he pulled away from you, you saw the glimpse of seriousness in his eyes.

“I miss you. Please….just forgive me this once?”

Damn it. For once you thought you had the upper hand but his dumb cute face and amazing lips had won you over again.

“Fine but you have to say it first today.”

Jimin let out a small laugh.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Love Me Like You Do (Part 1)

Summary: Draco decides to visit America before he gets married to Astoria Greengrass, fulfilling a pact his family has made with hers. It’s a last-minute trip he wants to take before he settles down to fulfill his duties as a Malfoy. Until he meets you, and you change his whole life.

Word Count: 3,073

Warnings: None.

A/N: Another daydream of mine with my beloved Draco. Hope you all enjoy! 

Originally posted by nellaey


“Draco? Draco!”

Draco blinked and met his mother’s eyes. “Yes?”

Narcissa Malfoy gave him a thin-lipped smile, embarrassment across her otherwise-stoic features. “Are you with us, dear?”

Draco, in fact, wasn’t in the room. His mind had been wandering ever since his father began to talk about business and how he was seeking to invest his Galleons into worthy ideas. Nothing that really interested Draco. His passion was found in cauldrons, steaming potions, watching them change colors as Draco neared the discoveries of spells and concoctions that would help the wizarding world throughout the planet.

Yet his parents weren’t so fond of his chosen career path. They called it a hobby, didn’t acknowledge Draco’s efficacity in it, and Lucius incessantly insisted that Draco meet with him weekly to go over the family’s interests and what to do to bring even more fortune to the Malfoy household.

The war had been unkind to his family. Pureblooded thinking had been shunned and Lucius Malfoy had been forced to swallow his pride and beliefs to keep going forward, to try to fix the wrongs that had tarnished his household when he had chosen the wrong side.

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Night People

Prompt: “Can i request a smutty scenario with werewolf v in heat?”
Word Count: 5,160
Genre: Smut
Summary: Around this time of year, Taehyung always advises you to stay away from him, but there’s nothing you want more than to see what he’s like when he’s turned.
A/N: So this is a werewolf AU obviously, but I just wanted to mention that there are some “violent” parts when it gets smutty. Also I know it’s hella long and I’m sorry. Please go easy on my gentle soul.

Originally posted by jjks


3 Days

When it was around this time of year, Taehyung always said it was best to stay away from him. Though you had been friends for years, he never wanted you to see that side of him. He said he was too dangerous and that it was best for you to not see him when he wasn’t capable of controlling himself. You understood that he was trying to protect you, but a part of you had always been curious to see what he was like when he turned. You had seen all the movies and read billions of books, but you wanted to see what it was really like. Of course, you respected his decision and tried your best to silence the nagging voice in the back of your mind.

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Carousel | 04

Character: Min Yoongi x reader (oc)

Genre/words: Angst, Implied/light Smut, Arranged Marriage! AU / 14,844 words

Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

Cr.


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Harry Styles - “Confessions”

I completely left this open(and have already planned) for a part two. So… if you would like a part two let me know! Enjoy! And be ready to have your heart broken.

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six


Harry sat on the edge of his bed in Los Angeles, his head in his hands, as he tried to hold back the tears and will his breathing to stay even and calm. His phone lay beside him, the screen still lit up to show him his recent calls - the last of which had just turned his world upside down. 

He eventually sits up, letting out a large sigh as his large ringed hands push through his short floppy hair, pushing it back from his forehead. His green eyes look across the room where on top of the chest of drawers sat a picture of the person he cared about most in the world. He stared at your smiling face, his own smiling face next to you and that’s when the tears came. He was going to lose you, he knew that he was. 

Just then his phone began to ring beside him. He dreaded it was her, the person who had called a few minutes before him and broke the news but instead he saw your face appear on the screen and that, in that moment, may have been worse. He picks up the phone, staring down at your picture as the phone continues to ring. 

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t hear your voice, happy and still in love with him, when he now knew what he did. He couldn’t tell you over the phone. He had messed up, he knew that, and he had to say it to your face. After the phone finally stopped ringing he gave a sigh and pulled himself up and off the bed. 

He had things he needed to do in LA, meetings to attend, interviews to be done but he couldn’t. He needed to get to you and tell you as soon as he could so he called Jeff. He couldn’t say it though, he couldn’t tell him exactly the situation, just that he had to go home - and now. 

Once he landed in London the next day, his hands were shaking, his palms were sweaty and his breathing was shallow as he sat in the back of the car headed towards your house. He kept trying to play out and plan his words for this conversation. How would he go about it? Where could he possibly start? He had so many confessions to make and what he was most afraid of was the inevitable - losing you. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to handle that hurt, devastated, and heart-broken face that he was soon going to see before him. 

The idea brought tears to his eyes. He rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes, grinding away the tears harshly. He hated himself, his entire body was full of regret, remorse, and dread knowing that he could never take this back. 

“Hello?” Harry calls a few moments later as he enters your shared home. He knew you were home, it being your day off work and your car was parked out front but he heard nothing. “Love?” He calls out again. 

“Harry?” He finally hears from the kitchen. He couldn’t will himself to move towards your voice. He wanted to run back out the door to never have to face this situation, he wanted to pretend everything was okay. But it just wasn’t. And never would be again. “Harry!” You gasp once you see your tall, tattooed and handsome boyfriend standing in the entryway of the living room. 

“Hey.” He mutters, barely able to get his voice above a low gravel. He clears his throat and puts his bag down at his feet, sliding off his jacket. He was trying to delay this, anything to keep the truth from coming out. 

“What are you doing home? Why haven’t you answered my calls in two days?” You were full of questions but then in that moment you didn’t care. You had missed Harry so much and if he was home - that was all that mattered. So, you cross the room and burrow yourself into his chest. You wrap your arms tight around his torso, taking in that familiar scent of his cologne while his arms wrap around your shoulders. He buries his face in your hair, his eyes closing as the tears began to slide down his cheeks. This was surely the last moment he would hold you in his arms and he wanted it to last as long as possible. “What’s going on?” You question, looking up at him. You gasp when you take in his tears. “Harry, what is it?” Your mind was racing. What possibly could have happened to cause him to act like this? You reach up, brushing your thumbs under his eyes along the tracks his tears were making. 

“I messed up, love.” He finally says, his voice a quiet whisper as he stares down into your eyes. You frown, shaking your head a bit in confusion. 

“What do yo-” 

“I slept with someone.” The words were out before he could over think it. He watched the gears turn in your head as you processed this. As soon as he saw it click, you backed out of his arms, distancing yourself from him just as he knew that you would. “Please, love, i’ was while we were going through tha’ rough patch a few weeks ago. I was angry, you were angry, I didn’ know where we stood-” 

“So you fucked someone else and never told me?!” You interrupt as your blood began to boil. “You came back here acting like it was all okay?! As if nothing ever happened!” You also felt your heart break, a dull ache began in the center of your chest. Harry was the love of your life, the man you were going to spend forever with and yet .. he had hurt you in the way he always vowed he never would. 

“I jus’…” He scratches at the back of his neck, shaking his head a little as he gave a sigh. He looks at the floor, anywhere but at the hurt and angry face before him. He also noted the fact that your eyes, those gorgeous eyes of yours that he loved so much, had begun to well up with tears. “I don’ know how to make up for this bu’ tha’ isn’t all.” He knew he had to say it, he had to get everything out so just maybe, maybe, the two of you could start trying to work it out. 

“What else is there?” You cross your arms over your chest as the tears slide down your cheeks. What else could there be? Had he slept with her again? Was he leaving you for her? Your mind was racing and you weren’t sure you would be able to handle anymore of this. Harry was your life and even with him standing in front of you still you felt it might not be for too much longer and you already felt lost. 

“She called me yesterday mornin’,” He began, his eyes peaking at you through his lashes as he kept his head slightly down. 

“Okay?” You urged but felt that sense of dread begin to creep up in your head as you surely knew what was coming next. Why would you contact the man you slept with weeks before? There was really only two reasons - wanting to get together again or being pregnant. Your blood ran cold at the latter possibility. It couldn’t be that, it just couldn’t. 

“She’s… she’s pregnan’.” The words pained him to say out loud. He hadn’t spoken it since he heard her mumble it through her sobs on the other end of the phone the morning before. He saw your face crumble then. Your eyebrows furrowed together, your eyes swimming with tears, and he saw your breath hitch in your throat. 

“You got another girl pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t accusatory, it was just a statement as you took to trying to process this. Harry was going to be a father, and it wasn’t with you. This just couldn’t possibly be happening. 

“I don’ know what I’m goin’ to do, bu’ what I wan’ first is to try and make things work with you. Please, love…” He trailed off when you shook your head vigorously, the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. 

“You expect me to just forgive you for this?” You give another shake of your head. “Would you forgive me if I got pregnant by another man? If I cheated on you and got knocked up? Would you be willing to move past that?” Harry bit at his lower lip and stared at the carpet under your feet. He knew you were right, he would probably never be able to move past it if you had someone else’s child. 

“You won’ even try? For us? We’ve been together for-”

“I don’t need you to remind me how long we’ve been together, Harry! I don’t need you telling me about the life we’ve started here together because I remember, I know!” You felt your anger begin to flare up. “It was you that seems to have forgotten the life we have together while you were busy fucking someone else!” He cringes at your choice of wording as well as your now raised voice but he knew he deserved it all. You were of course right, after all. 

“Please,” He takes a step towards you, holding his large hands out towards you, his cheeks wet with his still falling tears. He felt a sob building in his chest as he felt this was it, knowing you would most likely never forgive him. “I made a mistake, I will pay for tha’ for the rest of my life but I need you.” His voice dropped off to a whisper. “Don’ give up on me.” It was then that the sob finally fell from his lips and he felt his knees give out. 

“Harry,” You whisper as you watch the man you loved fall to his knees right there in front of you, his face pressing into his hands as large gasping sobs fell from his mouth. You feel a sob of your own and you take a step closer to Harry. You fall to your knees in front of him and bring a hand up to brush through his brown hair. He lifts his head up, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes meet yours. “I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” You watch his face crumble even more as he takes in your words. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers and the sobs resume. He then falls into your chest, his cheek burrowing into your t-shirt and his arms wrap tightly around your waist. You support his weight, your arms going around his shoulders, your fingers brushing at the hair on the back of his neck. “I’ll never forgive myself either.” He whispers through his sobs. 

You sat and held Harry, both of you crying and clinging to one another, knowing that this was it, for a good while until finally you pried him off of you and both of you stood up. 

“I think it’s best if you left.” You whisper as the two of you stood awkwardly facing each other. Harry gives a small nod, closing his eyes for a second. His eyes burned, the tears drying his eyes out but he knew he would probably spend the entire night crying. 

“Can I do somethin’, one las’ time?” You frown at him but he then takes a step closer to you and as his hand comes up to rest on your cheek you understood what he wanted. You don’t move as his face dips towards yours. You try not to return the pressure his lips press into yours but you couldn’t help it. As if by reflex you were kissing him back and bowing your body against his as your arms wrap around each other. It was as the kiss intensified and his tongue slid against yours that the reason this was to be your last kiss together reared back into your mind and you pulled away from him, breaking all contact together. 

“I can’t. I can’t do this, Harry.” You mutter, seeing that hurt and aching look in his green eyes as his chest heaved. He had hoped there for a second as he held you close again, your lips melded together perfectly like they always had, that just maybe you could forgive him. “I can’t be with you, I’m just going to picture you with her every time and I just can’t.” 

“I understand.” He gives a nod, hanging his head a bit. He pushes his fingers through his hair and looks back up at you. “I’m so sorry that I hur’ you.” He stares at you for a few seconds before backing towards the door. “I’ll always be jus’ a phone call away. I love you, with every piece of my soul.” You ignore the fresh tears sliding down your cheeks and simply give a nod. You look away from his heartbroken face and look anywhere but at him as he reaches for his bags and then a minute later was gone from the house. 

You fall to your knees right there where you stood and begin to cry into your hands, feeling like a piece of your heart had just walked out that door with Harry. 

Harry meanwhile had gone into the garage and got into his Range Rover but as soon as he was behind the wheel he rested his forehead against the steering while and let the sobs return. They were loud, chest heaving, sobs. Not only had he just lost the love of his life but he also now had to decide what he was going to do about his child on the way. 

overreact.

klaus mikaelson x reader 

prompt: seeing another woman all over your boyfriend has you fuming, klaus takes it upon himself to show you who he belongs to. 

warnings: swearing, smut + daddy kink. (loosely edited.)

the champagne glass in your hand felt heavy as you watched on. people around you bustled but you paid them no mind, instead your sight was fixated on the scene in front of you. another mikaelson ball was in attendance and you donned a beautiful gown, even surprising yourself with how well fitting it was - classy and just the right amount of trashy for you to feel like a goddess. 

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Bridges that Taylor Swift actually created

hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest…

and you come away with a great little story of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you 

i’ve found time can heal most anything, and you just might find who you’re supposed to be…

and there you are on your knees, begging for forgiveness, begging for me, just like i always wanted, but i’m so sorry…

and the saddest fear comes creeping in, that you never loved me, or her, or anyone, or anything yeah

and for the first time, what’s past is past..

this is falling in love in the cruelest way, this is falling for you when you are world’s away…

call a cab, lose my number, you’re about to lose your girl…

and what do you do when the one who means the most to you… is the one who didn’t show…

this is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight, love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right…

you took the time to memorise me, my fears, my hopes, and dreams i just like hanging out with you all the time…

two headlights shine through the sleepless night, and i will get you i’ll get you alone, your name has echoed through my mind and i just think you should think you should know that nothing safe is worth the drive and i will follow you follow you home…

we made a quite a mess babe, it’s probably better off this way, and i confess babe, in my dreams you’re touching my face, and asking me if i wanna try again with you, and i almost do…

distance, timing, breakdown, fighting, silence, train runs off its tracks, kiss me try to fix it, could you just try to listen… hang up, give up, for the life of us we can’t get back…

but i took your matches before fire could catch me so don’t look now… i’m shining like fireworks over your sad empty town…

my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again, these are the words i held back as i was leaving too soon, i was enchanted to meet you..

time turns flames to embers, you’ll have new september’s, every one of us has messed up too…

and i hope the sun shines and its a beautiful day, and something reminds you you wished you had stayed, you can plan for a change in weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind…

will you take a moment, promise me this, that you’ll stand by me forever, but if god forbid fate should step in, and force us into a goodbye, if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name, tell them how the crowds went wild, tell them how i hope they shine..

remember when you hit the brakes too soon, 20 stitches in the hospital room, when you started crying baby i did too, when the sun came up i was looking at you, remember when you couldn’t take the heat, i walked out i said I’m setting you free but the monsters turned out to be just trees, and when the sun came up you were looking at me…

you were all i wanted, but not like this….

you’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burnin it down, someday when you leave me i bet these memories will follow you around..

remind me how it used to be, pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks, and say you want me….

your smile, my ghost, i fell to my knees, when you’re young you just run, but you come back to what you need…

now that I’m clean, i’m never gonna risk it…

i reached for you but you were gone, i knew i had to go back home, you search the world for something else to make you feel like what we had, and in the end in wonderland we both went mad…

Aries — 

 Oh, my sweet, sweet child, what has the world done to you? You were a bright promise, the tomorrow we had hoped for, holding flowers in your mouth without crushing them and trusting blindly in those around you. And then came the blood; and now your fire is a quiet thing, a crackling murmur hidden in the shadows. You’ve curled into yourself like a newborn babe, held your heart tightly to your chest and began the tedious healing. And all the salt in your tears made the deep wounds sting; was it this what kept you pure? I wonder, oh, I wonder. Before you, I had never seen an anathema so full of innocence. (The world tried to cast you down from paradise; and it succeeded. But the fall couldn’t maim you, for fire cannot kill fire – it simply shrunk you, much like a mimosa bloom. I hope one day you’ll feel safe enough to flower, for there is so much beauty in you.)

Taurus — 

 I wish I could wrap my hands around your shoulders and hold you close for a while, because oh, what sad things they are, your bones. I am so sorry, beloved; so very sorry. And I am well aware these apologies cannot change anything, but I want you to know that there is someone who sees you as you are – even when all the others see is your superfluous frivolity and your desire for riches, I see the thoughtful mind, the gentle gestures, each and every of your heartbeats. The song of you is imprinted into my memory
as the change in seasons is; you are unforgettable, something so precious and so very dear. (Don’t let them shame you for your greed – those who try to do so cannot wrap their all too little minds around the fact that sin is not necessarily negative. Your love for gold has root in the same place as your love for others; you only want it so you may share it.)

Gemini — 

 It’s lonely, isn’t it? not being the way all others are. They tell you you’re a forgery, that your smile is a mask and your composure an act, simply because they cannot accept the idea that people are supposed to be multidimensional. On and on they go, pinning their ignorance to you under the name of blame, seeing in you only that which they wish to see. Sometimes, you wish you were like them. I know you do. You shouldn’t. It might be lonely where you are, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing; lonely doesn’t mean secluded. There are others like you, with minds like diamonds. Others like you, who are only habitual in their tendency for change. (You will find someone who can make sense out of you, one day, you know. They’ll know you better than you yourself do – every single aspect of you, every single frantic facet and feeling. And when you do, the wait will be more than worth it. I promise you won’t die nor live alone.)

Cancer — 

 You poor, poor, poor thing. It’s been a thousand years since you’ve curled into yourself, hid your heart deep in the cradle of your ribs and let yourself sleep; then the time came for you to awaken, and you found the world unchanged – it was as if everything had stood still. Reality swept into you like saltwater into gaping wounds, and every fiber of your soul wept. fearful, you took the broken glass road still, walked it fully aware of what laid in waiting; like a bride the night she is wed to a stranger, you swallowed your terror and saw it through. Often, those ignorant make you out to be such a bumbling coward. You’re not. You just aren’t. (In fact, you’re one of the bravest people I know; it takes so much courage to let the world see you weep – and it takes even more of it to wipe your tears and keep moving forward. Above all, it takes immense courage to allow yourself to love even when you know it’ll hurt.)

Leo — 

 The size of your heart puts to shame both Jupiter and your own pride and ego; to this day, I am not sure if you would have been better off with one much smaller, but I know for sure the world would have been emptier by far. You see, your touch is one of gold; whomever you decide to invest your time and love into grows the size of Atlas, and so, without you as you are now there would have been much less in the world. That is your downfall, isn’t it? Always has been. The way you’ve always put others first, giving them all of you, never asking for anything to be given to you in return. You are a gardener, dearest, and people are your roses. (It breaks my heart that all your selfless effort was almost always repaid in hurt and sorrow; know that you are not to be blamed for any of it. You have done nothing wrong – sometimes, things simply fall apart. Don’t shut your heart. I’d hate to see your love rot and turn to hatred.)

Virgo — 

 You have endured well the contempt of others, my dear; you have taken every blow with open arms. They have called you frigid and prude and arrogant and everything in between, but you knew better. Tell me then: if you can endure so well the slander of others, if you don’t care what they make of you, why do you worry so? Why do you see only blemishes when you look at yourself in the mirror? Your hesitance to trust others stems in your fear that if you let them in they’ll see your ugliness, all the imagined imperfections you see in your reflection. You can’t trust others because you don’t trust yourself; and I wish so badly that you would have a little more faith in who you are, in your beauty. (Being unable to forgive, jealousy and lust do not make you terrible. Hate is human nature as much as love is; emotions, be they bad or good, are intrinsic to mankind. You are such a passionate being, despite your outward delicacy, and that, my dear, is simply stunning. Please try to love yourself.)

Libra — 

 Darling child, didn’t the gods tell you the mob sees dancers as something of the devil, especially when their preferred stage is the sharp edge of a sword? Few in this world love truth, and fewer still are fond of things like righteousness and justice. Your ability to remain indiscriminate in the face of contradictory realities and deny none of them is both a blessing and a curse. Your mind, I fear, is the Pandora fate has crafted specifically for you; a beautiful gift that hides such doom and sorrow. And you are aware of all of this – how you were meant for greater things, with your noble mind and your true heart, yet on you dance, fighting against the windmills of adversity. How brave you are. (Know that your effort will not go without reward. Know that you won’t be forever unloved, nor will you be forever misunderstood. There will be those whom, like you, have the makings of just men, and they will understand. Keep your eyes open and search the crowd; that is what you do best.)

Scorpio — 

 I look at you and my heart grows small; there is so much sadness in you, from the flower of your eyes to the slouching arch of your shoulders. You have been misjudged and falsely accused for so long: Whore, they said; monster, perverter, sickness of the soul – and all of it because you like sex, as if somehow they are the Virgin Mary reborn, the goddamn hypocrites. This, too, is something they have misunderstood; it is not sex that you crave or are interested in. It is intimacy: it is the vulnerability that comes with having your soul completely bared and lain before another; you crave love, in its’ purest of forms. (And I know they have convinced you that someone of your kind is not “worthy”; fuck that. Your love is priceless, and one day someone will call your battle scars a masterpiece. One day someone will love you as wholly as you deserve to be loved. They will love all of you.)

Sagittarius — 

 There is such wanderlust in you – you’ve made a home out of the long, long roads, walked the earth to its’ ends and bathed in the oceans of the horizon; the sky was your sole companion, its’ stars your map, the wind a spellsong to ward off the passing sadness and melancholia that threatened to dim the flame of your heart. Oh, my child; how very wonderful you are, a barefoot nomad forever in awe of the world. The feeble minded call you rootless; how wrong they are. Having a voyager heart does not make you afraid of commitment. It simply means your roots lie elsewhere, splat across the world. (Do not let their malice plant doubts into your mind’s garden; your gypsy heart is worth more than all their empty ones combined. Keep daring the world, sate your thirst for journeying; only exploration can ever lead to discovery, so let your feet and head both walk the world.)

Capricorn — 

 Good god, you’re so tired. Life has worn you down to the marrow of your bones, took everything from you until you were bare-handed; and yet you’re still here, standing before me, your spine hardened to titanium, a delicate thing that can withstand even the most apocalyptic of sieges; you still find it in you to smile, bitter-bloody-all-teeth and still happy, somehow. Know that I am proud of you; of your bravery, of your resilience, of how you’ve clung to life by the skin of your teeth. I am proud of you. (And know that you deserve happiness – you may feel like you don’t, you may feel that it is above the likes of you, but you deserve it; you have earned it. Know that one of these days, the sun will shine down on your lane, too.)

Aquarius — 

 There’s so much of you inside your skin I am often surprised it has yet to come apart at the seams; there’s so much of everything inside your skull I am left in awe of your bones – often I wonder, how are they strong enough to contain the exploding universe inside? My god, this world of ours has seven wonders and you are all of them. The fortitude of your bright mind ceaselessly surprises me; I know what to expect, and yet I am still thrown off by your ingenuity and your ability to remain rational in your abstract ways. Nobody but you is open enough to accept it all; nobody but you can see through the prism of all eyes and walk away with their sanity intact. (I know they call you “cold”, an ice queen of the Siberian tundra. Let them be. Those who cannot see your white-hot warmth are not worthy of your brilliance. You are the brightest star, my dear, someone accepting and embracing of it all. Do not settle for anyone that is blind to your light.)

Pisces — 

 And how terrible it must be for you, who lives always halfway, to be stuck in a world that demands certainties which you will never have to give. It is not to say you don’t want to be resolute – you simply cannot. Your world does not have truth, nor does it have falsity; all that your world has are colors, swirling, forever mingling anew like the clouds in the sky. One day you are overflowing with everything that blooms inside of you, and lilies are spilling out of your ribs; the next, you’re empty, and you can’t for the life of you find something that is all-encompassing enough to fill the growing abyss south of your sternum. (Kknow that it is okay. The most humane thing you can be is full of contradictions;  as maddening as it can be, each paradox gets you closer to the entity your peers call God. It was never the Devil that built his home on the crossroads, you know. Embrace your nature.)

— Poetry for the Signs: The “You’ve Done Well” Edition, by L. Schreiber.

The Labyrinth Chapter 35

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 4.6k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

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His || Jungkook  || 0.11

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 |

Jungkook’s POV - Starts after the scene where Seokjin had told Y/N about them being werewolves.

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Worth the Pain

// Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead // Worth the Pain // Wings of Butterflies


The earth’s actually flat and Harry must have fallen off of it. He was quite clumsy—you had scars from the countless occasions he couldn’t navigate around his own feet and brought you down with him—so him managing to fall off the edge of the earth wasn’t a stretch of the imagination.

At least he better be floating through deep space, otherwise there was no reason your texts and calls should have gone unanswered the last three days. No other reason you would accept, anyway.

When you’d woken up, brain foggy and mouth dry, you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten home, let alone anything that had actually happened. It wasn’t until you reached for your phone—after growing accustomed the dull ache in your skull—and saw the Bukowski poem that you remembered what happened. And you’d laid in bed for a while, trying to figure out how to move forward. Should you text Harry? Call him? Read into the fact that his last poem was much less explicit than the previous and maybe it meant he was trying to tell you something?

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Galway Girl

1940’s Bucky x Reader Oneshot

Summary – You meet a handsome soldier in a pub one night, but is he the one?

Warnings – Mostly fluff, with an allusion to some steaminess, and then some angst because I had to!

Word Count – 1,288

Notes – This is my fic for Annie’s @hellomissmabel Shuffle Challenge.  This fic is based off of Ed Sheeran’s Galway Girl.  I know this is supposed to be a generalized Reader Insert fic, but the song is pretty specific about her being a Galway Girl.  From my research Galway Girls are known for having dark hair and blue eyes and they’re Irish.  Please forgive me for being a bit specific, but I hope you enjoy the fic anyway!  As always, I enjoy reading all of your feedback, comments and questions!

Masterlist

Originally posted by stallingdemons


The trip across the Atlantic had been long, but it had given Bucky a chance to get to know a few of the guys in his unit.  The one he’d grown the closet to was Sergeant Dugan.  He and Dum Dum had hit it off immediately, so it was no wonder that once they’d landed on the shores of Great Britain and Colonel Fraser had given them leave for the night, the two of them had found the closet pub.

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Even Still

A/n: So this was kind of a quick write and it focuses more on emotion than plot, but I’m proud of it. Hope you enjoy!


Betty: I still have your flannel. Are you ever going to pick it up?
Jughead: I don’t have time to get over there. 
Betty: Well I don’t want it.
Jughead: Then I guess you’ll have to bring it to the trailer.
Betty: Fine. Tomorrow. After school.

Betty locked her phone screen and hurled the device onto her bed, trying and failing to fight back the oncoming fit of tears. Every part of her body ached. 

How did she end up here? Just months ago she and Jughead had been closer than ever. So in love and so happy. 

And then the town had to go and fall into a civil war. 

Betty trudged through the next day, barely present in any of her classes as her stomach churned with anxiety. It felt like every five minutes she had to remind herself to unfurl her fists, her nails cutting into the skin bit by bit until the skin finally gave way. 

When the day finally ended Betty practically bolted off campus, making her way to the trailer park in record time. The second she saw that trailer door, however, she froze. Was she really ready for this? Once she returned his things she’d likely never speak to him again. With the town divided the way it was it’s not like she was going to casually run into him at the grocery store. 

“C’mon Betty,” she whispered to herself, “you can do this.” She gripped his flannel even tighter before reaching up and knocking on the door.

A few seconds passed before she heard movement, her chest tightening as heavy footsteps approached the door. 

The door swung open and there he was. Betty’s heart stopped short. He looked… undone. His hair was ragged and beanie-less, his shirt was wrinkled and his eyes were tired. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“Oh my god, Juggie, are you okay?” Betty instantly became concerned, reaching out to touch his cheek before remembering herself and pulling back. “Sorry.” She apologized, her shoulders deflating as she stared down at her shoes. 

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them quite sure what to say. 

“Do you -” Jughead finally spoke, “Do you want to come in?”

Betty wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Just being near him made her want to scream. She didn’t want to stay, she wanted to run away and never look back. But years of practiced politeness was too much for her to resist, so she stepped past him and into the trailer.

The living room was surprisingly messy. Not in the way it had been when FP was on a booze binge, but definitely not as nice as Jughead tried to keep it. Jughead sat down on one of the couches and Betty sat on the other, the distance between them feeling foreign and awkward.

Betty set the flannel on the coffee table between them and rubbed her palms on her knees. He was the one who had invited her in, he could be the first one to speak.

“Well this is…” Jughead trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Awkward? Uncomfortable?” Betty offered, her tone biting. She knew she sounded cruel but she didn’t care. He was the one who had broken up with her, he was the one who invited her inside, she didn’t have to be nice.

“Can you-” He paused, “Can you just come over here please? I can’t focus with you sitting there. It’s too weird.”

Betty looked at him for a moment, flustered, before slowly standing up and moving over to sit beside him on the couch. As she sat down, her shoulder brushed against his and she felt her heart rush. Every fiber of her screamed to back away, to move across the room once more, but it was too late, she was already sitting. She stared straight forward, refusing to say a word.

“Betts, I - can you look at me? Please?” There was a desperation in Jughead’s voice, a pleading that pulled Betty’s eyes toward his. “God, Betty, I’m so sorry.”

Betty’s breath hitched as his breath tickled her chin, her stomach dropping under the gaze of his piercing blue eyes. She physically could not make sense of all the thoughts running through her mind, his proximity leaving her breathless and senseless. 

“Please,” His voice was a mere whisper, somehow felt more than heard, “Forgive me.”

Her lips parted, an attempt to say something - anything, but it was all too much. He looked at her, eyebrows knitted together in distress. His eyes flickered down to her lips, only a millisecond of weakness but she saw it. He inched forward, his nose brushing against hers as he grew closer with each agonizing second. 

Before her mind could truly process a response, his lips were on hers, her hand instinctively reaching up to cup his cheek. She squeezed her eyes tight, the tears that had been brimming finally flooding over, as her heart attempted to fly out of her chest and toward him. She pulled away, pushing him with a gentle hand on his chest and looking down toward her lap, trying to collect herself.

“Sorry.” Jughead mumbled. “It just… it hurts so much.”

“Yeah.” She whispered, her voice growing cold, “It does.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did Betty. I mean, god, I haven’t seen you for three days and I’m already falling apart. Please, please, take me back.”

“You said we were wrong for each other. That there was no more point in trying. That you didn’t love me anymore.” Betty’s eyes were brimming with tears, every word leaving a bitter taste on her tongue.

“I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I just…” his shoulders slumped, “I got scared. This town is falling apart, Betty. I just kept waiting for us to be the next casualty. I got tired of waiting, and I just… I decided to put an end to it.” He took her hands in his, holding onto her as if he was afraid she might fly away, “But it was a mistake.

“Jughead,” Betty softened, her anger melting away as she looked into his heartbroken eyes, “Don’t you get it? We’re not going to be a casualty. I’m not going to let us.” She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, stroking her thumb against his jawline, “I love you.

“Still?” Jughead asked, his voice brimming with uncertainty and hope.

“Still.” Betty smiled, leaning in and kissing him again. But this time, there was no uncertainty, no sadness - only the reassurance she had been trying to give him for so long. And for the first time in a long time, Betty could feel him accept it. 

Ten Ways to Say “I love you” - Jim Kirk

Summary: There are a lot of ways to say something without actually saying it.

Warnings: language

A/N: a little long. also if jim kirk called me starlight, i’d probably cry n profess my love right then and there. forgive any n all typos. enjoy it and lemme know what you think! 


One

The absurdly bright lights lining the corridors of the Enterprise pricked your eyes— you were forced to squint as your legs carried you. The air pouring through the vents pinched any of your skin that remained unclothed. You flexed and contracted the oddly tired joints in your fingers— you could hear tiny pops and the soft sounds felt like battering rams against your eardrums.

You cursed yourself for two reasons: losing your left boot as the time-consuming search for it resulted in your inability to replicate a much needed mug of coffee, and drinking so much with Leonard the night before. While you accepted the former was entirely your doing, you split the blame on the latter— half of it was your fault, and half was Leonard’s. It’s those stupid puppy eyes, you told yourself.

You leant your shoulder against the transparent wall of the turbolift you solely occupied and crossed your arms over your chest. Your teeth were gritted— as if grinding your teeth to nubs would give you the day off and rid you of the heavy weight crushing your skull.

The doors slid open before your desired deck and you didn’t bother stifling a sigh that carried the weight of two starships. You dropped your gaze to glare at your scuffed boots rather than subject the new lift patron to your scowl and dagger eyes.

“Rough night?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice and met his eyes. You frowned immediately and nodded twice. “Bones and I had paperwork.”

“What would you say the ratio was this time?” he asked, his crossed arms rumpling the command gold fabric that was firmly stretched over his chest. He was smiling slightly in amusement as he took in your appearance— messy hair, half-zipped left boot, heavy lidded eyes.

You shrugged and eyed the ceramic mug in his hands. You could have moaned at the smell steaming out of it. “I’d say about two charts to one glass.”

“How many charts in total?”

“Fourteen each,” you winced at the revelation and took your eyes from Jim’s when the amusement painted his features red.

Seven glasses of whiskey in one sitting,” he said with a laugh. “No wonder you look like that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “How dare you! I look adorable— like a celebrity running errands.”

“‘Cept you’re about to start an eight-hour shift.”

You sighed so your shoulders slumped. “My rough night’s turning into a rough morning— I didn’t even have time to replicate coffee because of my stupid missing boot.”

Jim glanced down at his mug and thrust it in your direction without thinking twice. “Take mine.

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Bon appétit (Sebastian x Reader)

Summary: Porn without plot! Everybody’s favourite! | Sebastian Stan x Reader
Warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving) yumyumyum
Word count: 1428
Edit: fuck this gif????? i hate him

Masterlist

Originally posted by my-edits-have-no-remorse

’’Hey,’’ you cheered as you stepped inside the hair and make-up trailer, the door falling shut behind you, creating a whoosh of air to whirlwind around the small compartment. Even though you were tired you were still excited to come to work every day. Working as a make-up artist on the set of Captain America: Civil War was a big deal; this was your first big break. You knew your boyfriend Sebastian had everything to do with you getting this job, but you were grateful nonetheless and were determined to prove your worth to the Russo brothers.

Stacy, the other make-up artist who you shared the trailer with, smiled at you sweetly as she seemed to be packing up her stuff.

’’You all done for the day?’’ you quipped as you plopped your purse down on a single empty counter next to the sink. You sat down on the couch and looked at your watch; you still had about 10 minutes to get ready. Sebastian was supposed to come so you could fix his hair for his final shoot – the post credit scene in Wakanda.

’’Yeah, been here since 5 a.m. I’m ready to bounce.’’ Stacy closed her make up kit and threw on her jacket before waving you a goodbye and leaving you alone in the trailer, but not for long. You had just gotten up from the couch to get your stuff ready when the door flew open again and in stepped Sebastian.

’’Hey baby. You ready to make me look pretty?’’ he gave you a quick peck on the lips before settling down in the huge and slightly impractical armchair. But hey, everything to make the actors more comfortable.

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The Elsewhere Child

He was supposed to take my memories when he brought me here, the seelie knight, who had been commanded to escort me home with a simple “take it away, it’s too old now and it bores me” from the noble who had kept me for the past while. I traded him my singing voice for them though, and now where once sweet music poured from my lips only hoarse and untuned notes fall out without any of the tempo or melody they had before. Now I think I made a bad trade. It might have been better, if I didn’t remember, or remembered something else entirely.

I stare at the boy next to me in the circle, I was asked to join this circle as a way to make me feel part of something, part of a circle. They call the circle a support group for abducted children. Children who were abducted and got away, that is, I don’t think there’s a support group for those currently abducted. Their abductors wouldn’t allow them to attend, I suppose. The boy is speaking about the man who touched him, speaking of the horrible way he loved that man, because he was a child, and he had to love someone. Are his memories true? Or is he like me? Did a faerie take him away, and replace the memories from Under the Hill with these tragedies? Why? Did he commit some crime? I cannot say.

I am fascinated by the girl who sits next to the girl directly across from me in the circle. She tells us to call her Angie. She wears ratty clothes, not the sort of poor chic that seems to be an underlying trend, with jackets made of patches and ribbed cloth sold at malls, but real grunge. The tears in her sleeves reveal razor scars, her hair is short, she wants to look tough, she wants people to cross the street to get away from her when they see her coming. She is not tough. She is nervous, always nervous, always afraid, though she hides it well. None of these things are too interesting to me, those things I can see anywhere, but I thought context would be important so that the fact that she’s a pathological liar would not be the only thing you knew about her.

She is a pathological liar.

Her lies fascinate me.

After group chat, I take her aside and we talk, sometimes just for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, and I watch her fabricate thousands of untruths, from tiny white ones to huge fantastical ones as bright and colorful as her life has never been. Some days, I believe everything she says and some days I question each word, trying to figure out her secret.

It’s a strange thing, I was taken before I really knew my name, and each faerie that’s kept me (I was a pet for them) called me something different. Do I even have a true name? I’ve been Jane Doe since I showed up, stumbling barefoot and confused into a police station moments after midnight (at least the knight knew to leave me near a place of authority), so I’ve been introducing myself as Roe, like the deer. They ran my DNA through the missing children’s database (I didn’t understand what that was at first, was shocked at how closely humans had approximated magic with computers), but there was no match. I told them I didn’t know how long ago I’d been abducted, and suggested that it might have been before the database was made. They laughed and said I was eighteen, and DNA technology had been around much longer than me. I tried to explain that time was different where I had been kept, but they simply patted me on my head and told me they were sure that it seemed that way to me at the time.

They stared at me worriedly when one of them brought me a McDonald’s Happy Meal, and I asked what she wanted for it. She told me nothing. No one here ever asks for anything besides courtesy in return for their food, but old habits are hard to break. Even now, in my foster home, I cannot help insisting that my hosts confirm that this food is a gift freely given. They asked me to help them cook and I broke down in tears because there was a cast iron skillet on the stove (“Please don’t make me, iron burns, iron burns, and it gets under your skin and makes you go grey and lifeless like a flower severed from its roots, plea-please, please don’t make me”). It took them an hour to convince me that they weren’t trying to force me to poison myself, and the food burned (“I said I would help you, you asked me to cook and I agreed, but, but please don’t make me, it burns, it’ll burn me!” “It’s alright darling, you don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.” “But I said I would! It was an oath!” “We’re sorry, we wouldn’t have asked if we’d known it would upset you, you can help some other way if you like.” “You… absolve me of my oath?” “Yes, of course we do darling!”).

I am more comfortable with iron now, I am not one of the Fair Folk, after all, it will not harm me. Correction, a blade of iron would harm me, but not because it was made of iron. It does, however, mess with my glamor.

It is a difficult thing, growing up bathed in magic and yet to have none of your own. A pixie once spoke of how she envied my hair, and I said, on impulse, “do you want it?” So a trade was made. She gave me the ability to change my appearance, and she walked away with my hair. I expected my hair to grow back after a time though… it did not. With my glamor I can have the appearance of having whatever hair I please, and sometimes I change it daily, but when I sleep or when iron is near my bare head is revealed. It is assumed by my hosts and everyone around me that I have many wigs, I have told them I do not, but they don’t believe in magic, so they insist on believing this instead.

I hide when I hear thunder, duck into a bathroom and put everything on backward and inside out if I’m in public, or simply sit quiet if I’m home. The first time I did this, it shook me to my core when someone told me “You know, your shirt is on backward.” I started to panic, until I realized that I could see myself too. It was a revelation, discovering that there was something humans could see that the Good Neighbors couldn’t.

It still boggles my mind how much people throw away, tears and menstrual blood caught on napkins, or gifts from that one aunt that they held onto for so long for the sentimental value but can’t keep now because they have to move into a smaller apartment, or the shirt they can’t wear anymore because it smells like their ex. They could trade these items to faeries for so many things, and yet they simply throw them away. What a waste.

My hosts insisted I should have a proper education, and after three years of homeschooling (to get me caught up) I applied to attend the local state college. There I found more people who fascinate me the way Angie does. There’s Lisa, who fights for animal rights, and Kyle, the leader of the Gay Straight Alliance group, and Riley, who’s going into the Peace Corps next year because they want to help the world. I ask them all the time why they do what they do, what they expect to get back, and they tell me that ideally they’ll make the world a better place, and that will pay them back eventually, but that they don’t do it for what they’ll get back, they do it because it’s right. I don’t understand. There’s Cheyenne, who always gets into intense political debates with other people over dinner in the cafeteria, and she believes so intensely about things that don’t even affect her, and she fights for them, and she tells me she does this because it’s right, and I don’t understand. I’ve never met anyone who cared about anything other than themselves Under the Hill. Faeries can’t lie, they can’t go back on their word, they honor their deals and make sure you honor them too, they repay debts and ensure they’re repaid in turn, they amuse themselves playing or squabbling over power, but they do not do things for free. They don’t care about things for free. They don’t defend the innocent, protect the weak, or forgive the ignorant. The culture shock coming here is bewildering.

If I could I’d honor my debts, leave a pile of gold at the doorstep of everyone who’s done me a kindness, but I have not the magic to do so. The drainage ponds hold no sirens, the falling snow has no frolicking pixies between its flakes, there is no magic for me to use here… or is there?

Perhaps I can’t call upon the magic Under the Hill, perhaps I can’t summon gold or make deals with darklings, but I can find magic here, I’ve seen others do it. I’ve seen a moon so beautiful it sends shivers down your spine captured by a little lense-box and put onto thick shiny paper. I’ve seen songs and stories written with such emotion that it moves those who hear them to tears, to laughter, to dancing, to life. I’ve seen kitchen witches cure colds with hot chicken soup, and I’ve seen holy men ward off tricksters they can’t even see with the power of their belief.

Perhaps I can find a way to create my own magic, and do what other people seem to strive to do to repay their debts. Perhaps I can make the world a better place, and learn the magic of humanity. And as for the places where magic does live? Where the boundary between worlds is thin and the drainage ponds and snowflakes carry faerie magic within? …I think I’ll be staying far away, for my part. I might still have a lot to learn, but I think I like it better here.

Calling It Quits. - Bucky x Reader - One Shot

Originally posted by livvy1800

A/N - Another Angsty one, unfortunately not so happy endings here. But I do enjoy Angst requests considering I find it my weakest spot. Thanks for the request @the-craziestone - I hope you enjoy it! Any requests or ideas you may have please feel free to comment or PM me.

Bucky x Reader - You know where he’s been. You know the smell of that perfume, the kiss marks he’s forgotten to hide on his neck. You have pretended for too long now. You’ve had enough.


Warnings: Just sad angst really.

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anonymous asked:

Yoongi, 6&“Get on your knees.”

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Rated - M

goblin inspired. 

muses: ceo!yoongi x heiress!reader
genre: angst, smut, fluff
words: 2.8k
note: this was meant to be under 1k bc it’s supposed to be a drabble but. please forgive me for the upcoming ceo au’s

warning: sexual tension, oral, “get on your knees, yoongi.”


you knew him, not personally per se. but you might as well claim to with all the things you’d been hearing of that man. at the age of 22 he had graduated college and immediately got into the business. two years later, he’d earn his masters degree and his startup had been blowing up with established business pledging alliance and overpouring promising clients waiting to sign contracts of agreement before others waltzed in and stole the chance.

and yet, you refused to be one of the many that’d worshiped the ground he stood on. you detested the need to have him as an affiliate. you loathed having to put on the ivory, skin tight dress, wear your hair up and don yourself the bloodiest red on your lips. and you gravely hated having to sit across from the man who didn’t even bat an eye at you as though you were another pretty instrument he would keep within his chambers as your father discussed the terms of the agreement with cold sweat running down his temple - as if this man was beyond god. min yoongi - what a humble name for a god though.

“the things here all belong to you, you may do as you like, go along with your routine as before so long as you do your part in the contract - appear as my beautiful loving fiancee in public events.”

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