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This just in! The trash train is pulling into the station! Get it while it’s hot!

I need to tell you guys about the time I was almost swept off to another dimension on a ghost train or something

Because honestly it was… a really weird experience tbh

So a few years ago a friend and I were in Belfast, and it was getting towards evening time in the winter so it was already pitch black but still kind of crowded from the Christmas rush. We headed to the train station to get a train home and these trains were fairly regular, like about every thirty minutes or so which is pretty regular for that country, trust me. The trains varied from the newer, nicer ones to the ones that probably hadn’t been updated since the seventies, but they were all relatively decent and no cause for concern. 

Or so we thought. We caught our train at the usual platform, but no sooner had we got on did we realise something was kind of off. This train was old, and kind of shabby looking. We made a few jokes and sat down anyway, figuring it was one of the older trains that we’d just never seen before, and things passed relatively normally. The train pulled out of the station, and it was only as we were picking up speed that we realised we were the only ones in the carriage. This was highly unusual, because it was still peak time for people starting to head back, and it being so close to Christmas, the train should have been packed. We couldn’t have got on an out of service trains, because they wouldn’t go to a passenger platform if they weren’t taking passengers, and with all the other trains needing platforms there would be no room for them. They would go to a separate part of the tracks out of the way. We were completely stumped.

We put it down to just weird timing and figured the other carriages probably had people in them, and tried to relax. The train was sort of rickety and unusually loud, and it didn’t exactly sound like what you would expect from a train. I don’t know how to describe it, but there was a kind of odd, distorted quality to the sound of the wheels on the track; it was sort of muffled but also louder than usual at the same time? Kind of like when you have a dream and wake up still hearing the sound from it, and it sounds both quiet because it’s fading from your ears but loud at the same time because it’s in your head. That’s really the only way I can describe it.

We quickly noticed something else that was weird. Several minutes passed, and we didn’t stop at the usual stop. We didn’t even go past it. Several more minutes passed and we absolutely should have stopped at at least two stops. There was nothing, and there was no train guard to check tickets, either. By now, we’re really freaked out. We’re passing through places we recognise, proving we’re on the right route, but we’re not going through any of the right stops and the train isn’t slowing. This probably went on for a good six or seven minutes, even though we should have been out of Belfast by that time. Finally, the train started to slow, and pulled into the first station it should have stopped at, only minutes after leaving the original station. By this point we’re so freaked out that we know we’re getting off the train, so we stand and go and wait by the doors.

The train stops, and the platform outside is empty – again, very unusual for this time. The doors thankfully open and me and my friend hurry out onto the platform, and almost immediately after our feet touch the platform, the train pulls away. No one else got off the train, and as it passes, we see there’s absolutely no one else on the train. No passengers, no guards. The driver would have been at the front so we didn’t get to see if anyone was there or not, but the train was completely empty. We watched it go along the track a short distance, and then the lights simply vanished even though there was nothing there to obstruct them. No trains on other tracks, no tunnels, no curves. That part of the track has great visibility, but the lights just vanished into midair.

We look at one another, and then suddenly we realise we can hear noise, and the platform behind us is packed with people. We just jumped on the next train with a crowd of other people and tried not to think too much about what would have happened if we’d stayed on that first train.

falling for you?

wooo i’m not useless, i actually wrote something woo! but yeah, sorry for people who requested stuff but like this blog works like: whatever my brain can spit out first will come first

and i think one person asked to be tagged? sorry if i’ve forgotten you!! @thequaksonclackson tell me if you want to be tagged and i’ll make a list cause lmao i dont have one rn 

Originally posted by koenigreus

thats peter thinking bout chu ^


You describe it as mortifying. Peter describes it amusing. 

It’s the story of how you two met– a chance encounter on public transport that lead to so much more than ever expected. Despite how adorable your relationship came to be now, it didn’t mean it wasn’t utterly embarrassing for you, and everyone involved back then.

Peter loves to joke about it, “she fell for me the moment she met me!” but in reality, it was a bit less cliché than that. Not love at first sight—but there was definitely something there when you collided with your to-be boyfriend on the subway that morning. 

And to be fair, you were running off three hours of sleep.

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#SherlockLives: The Resurrection

The day is April 23rd, 2017.  It’s an ordinary Sunday afternoon in London.

The crowd bustles, trains whirr, birds chirp.

Life in the city is business as usual.

Three teenage girls take photographs outside 187 North Gower Street, soaking in the ambiance of the Sherlock set.  They step into Speedy’s for a cup of coffee.

The women lament over the loss of their favorite show. On March 8th, the BBC announced Sherlock would not be returning for a fifth series, and cowriters Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss were quick to assure their fans that it was time to lay the beloved program to rest.

But what the women saw next changed their lives forever.

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Hot Like Burning

Sterek, 2.5K words, Teen

AU, Firefighter Derek

In which Derek is the grumpy neighborhood firefighter, and Stiles is a bit of a lovestruck idiot.


Stiles winces as he turns the corner, unbearably nervous like he always is whenever he drives Lydia’s car, and pulls into the fire station. He offered this morning to help her with any errands she needed, and she asked him to take her car to the fire station and have them install the car seat. Stiles had no idea this was even a thing—seriously, how hard is it to put in a car seat?—but unsurprisingly, Lydia is as fastidious about her unborn child’s safety as she is about everything else.

He parks just outside the front door, careful not to block the big bays with the two fire trucks, and wanders inside. “Hello?” he calls out. There’s a noise coming from the other side of the fire truck, so Stiles keeps walking in that direction, then nearly trips over his own two feet.

There’s a guy, crouched down as he washes the wheel well of the fire truck, and Stiles is 101 percent sure that he’s the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He’s frowning, as if he’s pissed at the task in front of him, but it only serves to show off the sharp cut of his jaw under a very nicely-shaped short beard. He’s wearing a tight short-sleeved SFFD t-shirt, which is wet in patches and very clearly showing off the muscled physique underneath.

“Holy shit.”

The guy’s head jerks up at that, his eyes wide, and his gaze locks with Stiles’ for a long second before slowly drifting down the rest of his body. Stiles damn near forgets how to breathe because yep, this impossibly hot dude is most definitely checking him out.

Stiles has never believed in love at first sight, and he still doesn’t, but as of this moment he most certainly does believe in…familiarity at first sight? Cosmic connection? Just plain lust? He has no fucking clue.

But he yelps a little in surprise, then actually manages to trip over nothing, only catching himself by clutching the pillar next to him, which oh fuck, is actually the fire pole. He finally rights himself, grimacing with both arms spread for balance, and then slaps a hand over his eyes with a plaintive groan.

“Oh my god. Hi, hello, my name is Stiles. Uh, any chance we can start over and pretend that this excruciatingly embarrassing encounter didn’t happen?”

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Don’t Flirt With Him

Word count: 2,241

Warning: smut, spanking, little bit of fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Y/N has to flirt with the most horrible and sexist man ever to get info for a case and Dean isn’t too happy about it so he shows her who she really belongs to.

The sound of Dean’s alarm woke you up and you reluctantly opened your eyes to see Dean and Sam already up and getting ready.

“Do you know what I think I like most about the bunker? Normal sleeping patterns.” Sam laughed, agreeing with you as he brushed his teeth.

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you might get an ovation

pairing: daveed diggs x reader, lin-manuel miranda x reader, daveed x reader x lin (i think that’s how this should be listed idk) 

request: @iamafangirlforeverthing​: “Can you write a reader imagine where daveed and Lin compete for her affections and just pure nsfw…” and @itsme-ashley-marie​: “Can I get some super kinky role play?!” AND @derpypenguin​: “Lin smut with maybe some nice daddy/sir kink with some bondage maybe??”

summary: lin and daveed are both super into reader. she goes with this for a little, before they realize there’s only one way to make them all happy.

warnings: NSFW, smut, flirting, wall sex, dom/sub, begging, dirty talk, clippng lyrics, oral sex, prof/student roleplay, bath sex, threesome (kinda…), spitroasting, mentions of other kinks,

word count: 4,936

a/n: i am going straight to hell. probably tomorrow, honestly. title from clippng’s “wriggle.” this was fun. enjoy!! lemme know whatchu think!! the sequel to this smut sin is here 

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Keep The Skirt


Requested: Yes, Could you do a fluff/smut DracoxReader where Draco has been crushing on you for so long and finally confesses his love for you in a romantic way. Later he would bring out his more sexual side and you guys well, fuck. The reader is a pureblood slytherin. :) Hopefully this makes sense cause honestly I love for you to write this.

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Warning: Smut, fluff

   You turned the page in your book as the train was beginning to pull away from the station. You glanced out the window and watched the platform of 9 ¾ began to whirl by. You looked back down at your book and resumed reading. You looked up irritably when you realized the door to your compartment was loose and rattled like hell. You drew your wand from your emerald and black robes and without looking mumbled “reparo”. You smiled as the rattling stopped. You put your wand away and continued to read. 

   A few minutes later you heard the door open. You growled and whipped out your wand. You looked up and pointed your wand towards the door. You raised a brow when you saw Draco Malfoy and his luggage standing in the doorway. He glanced at your wand then back at you. He swept the empty compartment and gave you a small smile.

   “I’m assuming these seats are empty. I lost my friends so can I stay here?” He asked pushing his way in and beginning to put his luggage away.

   “Well I guess I can’t say no now.” You said looking back down to your book. You heard him huff and you looked up to see him struggling to put his bag in the overhead. You sighed and put your book down. You stood up and stood by his side to help shove the trunk on the shelf. When it was finally up you sat back down and opened your book. 

   “Thank you.” Draco said sitting down opposite of you. 

   "Of course.” You put down your book and looked to him. "How are you?” You asked. He propped his feet up and laid back. 

   "Well enough. Why are you alone?” He asked. You frowned.

   “Usually when someone asks how you’re doing you’re supposed to ask in return. I’m doing well. And to and to answer your question it’s because I prefer to read than listen to Pansy talk about how head over heels she is for you.” You said watching him inspect the cover of your book. He smiled and chuckled. 

   “I can see why that would drive you to wanting to be alone. I passed by them I wished I had an invisibility cloak.” He said. You smiled and stuck out your hand. 

   “Y/n, y/n l/n.” You said introducing yourself. He glanced at your hand and grinned at you. 

   “Actually uh, I know your name. We sat next to each other for the first two years in Defense and Potions.” He said shaking your hand. You furrowed your brows.

   “We did? And you remember it?” You asked. A deep blushed crossed his pale cheeks.

   “I mean I just observed it.” He said bashfully. You nodded. 

   “Wow. Draco Malfoy pays more attention to his surroundings than we thought. Or maybe, he has a crush on me.” You joked. He rolled his eyes.

   “Oh be quiet.” He said laughing and turning to the ceiling. You smiled and did the same.

   “That wasn’t a no.” You said using your robes as a blanket.

   “Well I wouldn’t want to lie.” He said smoothly. You looked over at him and caught him staring at you. You smiled.

   “Watch out. I don’t want Pansy after my head.” You said. He chuckled. 

   By the time the train pulled into the station you had gained a best friend and a date to Hogsmeade. 

   By the middle of the year, you and Draco had been going steady for months. You were practically inseparable. You hated the same people, hated the same classes and hated the same things. 

   You sat in the Slytherin common room with Draco’s head in your lap, playing with his hair. 

   “Hey love?” He said looking up at you. You hummed and looked down. "Do you want to go up to my room?” He asked.

   “Sure.” You said following him up the stone steps to his room. He brought you into his empty room and closed the door behind you. He hugged you and pushed you towards the bed. You dropped down on the bed with him on top of you. He proped himself up on his elbows and ducked down to kiss you. You placed a hand on his neck and pulled him close. His hand slowly traveled over your white button up shirt. He loosened your tie and you parted to pull it over your head. He placed a hand one he first button of your shirt and looked at you for permission. You nodded and he quickly undid them exposing your chest. You smiled and reached up and pulled him by his tie back to you. He smirked as you pulled him in for another heated kiss. You began unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. He shrugged it off and reached down to get rid of his trousers. You felt him struggling and smiled against his lips. You gently pushed him away and helped undo his belt and get his pants off. You smirk at his growing erection. He pulled you close and began kissing down your neck. He reached around and unhooked your bra. You let it fall off and reached down and palmed him through his boxers. He moaned softly and reached up and palmed on breast. You whimpered as he toyed with your nipple. He trailed his other hand down and hiked up your skirt and smirked.

   “Lace huh?” He asked teasingly. Before you could answer he slipped two fingers in your making you moan. He chuckled and gently pushed you back onto the bed. He pumped his fingers painfully slow. This was your first time with Draco and you never pegged him as a tease. He slipped your panties down and off your legs. You began to remove your skirt but he grabbed your wrist firmly to stop you.

   “I like it on.” He growled in your ear. You nodded. And moved your hand to the back of his neck. He wrapped his arms under you and pulled you to stand. 

   “What are-”

   “Face down, ass up.” He said pointing towards the bed. You obliged and got into position. He picked up a tie from the floor and got behind you. He reached forward and put the tie in front of you.

   “Open.” He demanded. You opened your mouth and he shoved the tie in your mouth as a gag. He straighted and used his knee to push your legs apart. You felt him place a hand on your ass and use his thumb to spread your folds. He positioned himself and slowly pushed himself into you. You moaned out and rutted your hips back against him. He groaned and took that as a signal to speed up. He gripped your hips harshly, digging his fingernails into you skin. You whined against the gag and grabbed the sheets tight as he fucked you. You cried out in suprise as he slapped your ass. He slowed down drastically and rocked his hips making you whine. 

   “You want me to go faster?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice. You pushed back against him and he chuckled. He took the hint and sped up again. You moaned into the gag and smiled lazily as you felt the framiliar knot in your stomach form. He began thrusting roughly and smacking your ass more frequently and harder. A few more hard thrusts and he got sloppier. He reached down and began rubbing your clit throwing you over the edge. You came screaming his name, muffled by the gag. He pulled out and you felt warm cum hit your back. Draco held your hips a second long and stood up. You dropped down on your stomach and tucked your arms under you. Draco laughed and sat on the edge of the bed next to you. You spit out the tied and huffed.

    “Babe? Can you get a rag and clean me up?” You asked. He hummed in reponse and you waited quietly for him to come back. Eventually he did and he rubbed soft circles as he cleaned your back with a rag. You felt tired. You felt yourself slowly lul to sleep leaving Draco to clean up the clothes and move you to cuddle with him at the head of the bed. He covered you both with the blanket  and pulled you close. 

   “Goodnigt princess.” He mumbled into your hair. You mumbled in reponse and he smiled. He fell asleep listening to your soft breathing and occasional snores.

Inconclusive

Jax x Reader based off the following request:

“Hi! Can you write one where you and Jax recently broke up and one day you see Jax taking Ima to his dorm. You go home, try to move on from him, but Jax finds out, gets jealous and tries to win you back? Thank you!”

Originally posted by geezerwench

“This is a bad idea, Chibs.” you warn, pulling at your black lace crop top, a pair of leather shorts showing off your shapely legs. Chibs takes a final drag from his cigarette, dropping it on the floor and putting it out with his boot.

“He misses you, lass, and I can tell you miss him.” You can’t deny his words, these past two weeks being the hardest ones of your life. “You look amazing, sweetheart. If he doesn’t take you home, I sure will.”

Smiling, you gently bump your shoulder with the Scot’s, thanking him silently. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Thatta’ girl. Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Chibs throws his arm around your shoulders, leading you up the lot and into the clubhouse, party in full swing. You smile at the croweaters that catch your eye on the way in, them returning the smile and waving kindly at you.

While Chibs gets you and him a drink, you scan the room, not sure how to feel when you don’t spot your ex boyfriend. Tig grins when he sees you, pushing the lady off his lap and walking over to you, throwing his arms around you. “If it isn’t my favourite girl.”

“Hi, Tiggy. Sorry I haven’t been around, everything is a bit of a mess right now.” you explain, his eyes slightly glassy as he watches you, the smell of whisky lingering heavily on him. You’ve always gotten on well with the other MC members, the older ones and younger ones all treating you like family.

“Don’t sweat it, doll, just glad to see you.” He places a sloppy kiss on your cheek, before going back to his woman of the night, sadness covering you as you realise how much you miss this club. The atmosphere, the people, the family. You knew that if you didn’t get this shit sorted with Jax, you’d probably never have it again.

“Here ya are, love. Get that down ya.” You take the beer from Chibs, taking a few swigs, the cold liquid fizzy as it passes down your throat.

You’re listening to Chibs flirt with some croweater when your gaze is pulled to the other side of the room, Jax entering from the apartments. It’s always been the same with him, a magnetic pull that somehow tells you when he’s around. It’s surreal, but he must feel it too, his eyes instantly breathing you in, surprise evident on his face.

You just stare at him, not knowing how he’s going to react. Is he going to be pissed that you’re here? Glad that you’ve come back for him? Upset?

Your questions are quickly answered, Ima surfacing from the same place Jax did, her hands pulling at her shirt, that famous fucking smirk on her face.

Her arms slip around his waist, him being pulled out of his trance. She leans up, whispering into his ear, his eyes remaining on you the whole time. Your heart feels like it’s literally breaking, regret written all over your ex lovers face as you crumble in front of him. He doesn’t correct it though, letting Ima pull his face to hers, her lips claiming his in a messy fashion.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” you whisper, slamming your half drunken beer on the bar and storming out, leaving a very confused Chibs by himself. He looks across the room as you leave, noticing the very reason for your upset. Shaking his head at his younger brother, he turns his back on him, letting him know just how he feels without even saying a word.

It’s been three months since that dreaded day. The day you lost the last shred of hope you had left for your broken relationship, for the broken man you left behind.

“You ready to go, babe?” Liam calls, his voice travelling up the stairs. You had to move on, you deserve to at least try to be happy, even if deep down you know you’re aiming for a unreachable goal.

“Two minutes!” you respond, throwing your phone and lipstick into your bag. You’d met Liam about two months ago, a sweet boy who asked for your number at your work place. You said yes, met up for lunch one day and hit it off, and you’d been dating ever since. Things were pretty serious between the two of you, but throwing yourself in the deep end seems like the quickest way to get rid of the outlaw biker who refuses leave your mind.

Leaving the bedroom, you jog down the stairs, meeting your boyfriend at the bottom. You were about to go to meet some of Liam’s friends, the four of you going on a double date to the new diner in town. If someone would’ve told you a few months back that you’d be going on double dates and spending time with a completely different set of people, you never would’ve believed it.

“I’m just gonna fill up before we go get Tyler and Abby.” Liam turns into the gas station, pulling up at an available pump and stepping out to fill up the car. “You okay to go pay?”

You nod, grabbing the bills from Liam’s hand and undoing your seat belt, heading inside the store. Once you’ve paid for the fuel, you turn around, slamming straight into a hard chest.

“Sorry, love-” You look up, smiling shyly at the man, shock on his face once he realises who you are. “Jesus, (Y/N). If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Chibby.” You reply, letting the Scots man wrap you up in his arms, the familiar feeling making your heart clench. You pull back, your common sense kicking in. “Wait, is he with you?”

Before he can reply, the bell above the shop door signaling that someone has just walked in. You hear his voice before you see his face, a thousand and one emotions running through you. “Tig just called, he’s just been to-”

Jax finally reaches the two of you, his voice dying in his throat as he sees who his brother is standing with. His mouth opens and shuts as he stares at you, completely caught off guard.

“Hey, Jax.” you say calmly, hoping that if you act like you’re unaffected, it’ll convince the two men in front of you, even if you can’t convince yourself. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.” He smiles at you, your knees just as weak as they were the day you first caught a glimpse of that smile, the smile that could bring you so much light, even on your darkest of days.

“You alright, (Y/N)?” You scold yourself for forgetting about your company, your boyfriend now making his way over to the three of you in concern. Once he reaches you, he stands by your side, slipping his arm around your waist, claiming his property like some kind of animal.

“Yeah, I’m good.” you respond, part of you wanting to rip Liam’s arm from around you, the expression on Jax’s face one of defeat, heartbreak. The same look you wore just months ago. “Pass my love on to everyone. See you around.”

You leave too quickly to receive a response, your partner trailing behind you, your mental state not feeling up to answering the pile of questions you’re bound to be asked once you get in the car.

You look back at the lost biker in the store, his eyes locked on yours as he watches you walk away from him, again. Only this time, he knows he has to bring you back to him, no matter what it takes.

You sigh in content as you sink into the bubbles, music playing lowly in the background as you take a well earned bath.

Today has been a long day, or at least it feels like it has. After bumping into pieces of your past life, the life you were trying to move on from, you had to deal with a relentless Liam, who wanted to know what your connection was to the murderous bikers in town. This then led to the two of you having a full blown argument. You’d jumped out of the car about thirty minutes out of town and refused to get back in, walking all the way back home.

You massage your temples as you soak, silently begging for your head to stop pounding, the pain making you feel physically sick. All you wanted was five minutes of peace from your overactive brain.

You feel like screaming when you hear the door knock loudly from downstairs, closing your eyes and deciding to ignore whatever company had decided to bother you.

After about fifteen seconds, you hear another series of knocks, more urgent this time. Cursing under your breath, you pull yourself out of the soapy water, quickly wrapping a towel around your body and heading downstairs, ready to release your wrath on whoever was behind the door.

Yanking it open, you see the last person you expect to be at your house. “Jax?”

He moves his sights up and down your body, you wishing you would’ve grabbed your dressing gown rather than a towel that barely reaches midthigh. Once he meets you eyes, you raise your eyebrows in question. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” he sighs, running his fingers through his undone locks. “Can I come in? Just give me five minutes. Please.”

Going against your better judgement, you hesitate, pulling the door open widely and letting him step inside. He smiles thankfully at you, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before he walks inside.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?” you ask stiffly, wanting the man in front of you to know that you’re not going to take any shit. You’re not the same woman you were three months ago, and he can’t just turn up at your place and expect everything to be okay.

“I miss you, (Y/N).” he confesses, your eyes going as big as saucers as you debate whether you even heard him right. “I made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go, and watching you walk away from me today-”

“Are you serious right now?” You watch as he swallow nervously, enjoying his discomfort. He looks down at the floor, sighing and shrugging his shoulders, like he knew that this was how you’d react.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with me walking away from you when you told me I wasn’t strong enough for this life.“ you spit, all your pent up anger slowly making its way to the surface. “Didn’t care the second time when you humiliated me in front of the club by fucking that whore!”

“Babe, please just let me-” He knows better than to try and make some bullshit excuse, his sentence stopping once he sees the rage on your face.

“It wasn’t me walking away that got to you yesterday,” you seethe, “it was the fact that I’ve moved on. Found somebody beyond the one and only Jax Teller.”

He stand silent, his eyes heavy with unshed tears as you unload the pain and suffering you’ve had to hold in. You shake your head at him in disbelief, chuckling humourlessly. “You let me go, Jax. You broke my heart, and that’s all on you.”

Silent years slip down your cheeks as you hold your towel close to your chest, the fluffy material moving between your fingers and acting as some sort of security blanket, stopping you from completely falling apart.

“I know I don’t deserve you, (Y/N). I know it, hell, everybody knows it.” he says timidly, breaking the tense silence. He sniffs as you look at the floor, your tears falling as you refuse to meet his gaze. “But you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, the only girl I will ever love, and I hope that means something to you.”

Your bottom lip quivers as you try to hold in your sobs, the ache in his words chipping at your ice cold exterior, bit by bit. His white trainers step into your view, his figure so close you can smell his intoxicating scent. Just one whiff of him makes you want to forget everything and throw yourself in his arms. But that would be naive.

“I pushed you away, because I don’t want to see you end up like everybody else I love. Broken or dead.” He grabs your face in his large, rough hands, the image of him blurry as you try to blink away your tears, clear your view. “But without you, I see no end to this, (Y/N), no reason to carry on, to fight.”

His thumbs gently caress your skin, your body feeling more alive than it has in months. “I know it’s selfish, I’m a selfish man, but you’re the only thing that I’m certain about in this world.”

You feel like the air has been released back into your lungs when he locks his lips with yours, his hands fiercely cradling your face as you come alive under his touch. You’ve never felt something so passionate, so raw , in your life, his tongue slipping past your lips and exploring the place he hasn’t been allowed to go for months.

You’re both breathless as he pulls away, your heart begging you to join your lips back with his and never break apart. He presses his mouth against your forehead lovingly, one of your favourite things that he does, before he begrudgingly let’s you go, moving towards your front door.

“I’ll always love you, (Y/N). You know where to find me if you feel the same.”

A/N - Decided to end this on a bit of a cliff hanger/make up your own ending?! Thought it’d let you guys make your own interpretations individually :) hope you liked!! Xx

Piano

Draco took a deep, shaky breath, hoping that Harry wouldn’t notice how nervous he was. He had been struggling with crowds since the war, and the combination of meeting the Weasley’s and the huge amount of people at King’s Cross station made him anxious as hell.

Hundreds of people walked, ran, waited or strolled around the main hall. In the distance he could already see the little coffee shop where the entire Weasley family sat, waiting to go to platform 9¾. The entire corner seemed to have a red glow due to all the ginger haired people gathered in it.

“Dad! I need to go to the bathroom!” Whined Lily.

“Just follow the signs sweetheart, it’s over there I believe.” And Harry pointed at the far end of the hall.

“But what if I get lost? Mom always walks with me…” Lily pouted.

Draco rolled with his eyes and suppressed a smile. The girl was a Slytherin for one hundred percent. Ginny never accompanied her to the lavatory since she wanted Lily to be more independent, and rightly so since she was eleven years old already.

Harry however, always melted for his daughter’s sad pout and cute face and Lily made good use of that.

“Sorry honey, duty calls.” Harry pressed a quick kiss on his lips. Merlin, he would never get used to that feeling. Draco was a complete sucker for Harry’s quick, domestic yet loving kisses. Before he knew it he’d agreed to walk James, Albus and Scorpius to the Weasley’s all by himself while Harry left with Lily.

His eyes drifted to the coffee stand again. There had to be at least twenty five Weasley’s present, even Charlie who didn’t even have kids was there.

“Well then, let’s greet the family.” The family that will be seeing me today for the first time since they heard Harry and I are dating. Draco shuddered at the thought.

Scorpius grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “You’ll be alright dad.”

Sometimes Draco hated that he couldn’t hide behind his mask anymore. It turned out fatherly love, or any kind of love really, destroyed your ability to wear it.

He squeezed his son’s hand back. “Of course Scor. Nothing to worry about.” And he began to make his way through the crowd with three children in tow.

As soon as he came within twenty yards of the coffee stand he knew he couldn’t do it. Ron, George, Percy, Charlie and Bill were huddled together on the side, and judging by the looks they shot at him he was in for a serious talk. A serious “mess with Harry and we’ll murder you” talk.

Draco thanked the heavens when Albus asked “Why is there a piano in the middle of the station?” He pointed at the grand piano standing next to the coffee stand.

“It’s there so people can play it.” Answered an elderly lady who’d overheard his question. “Do you play?”

“No…” Albus shot a sad look at the piano. It was currently being abused by a four year old who seemed to be banging the keys without any real purpose.

“Dad plays!” Said Scorpius enthusiastic. “He’s really good as well. Do you want him to play for you?” Albus’ face lit up, and he cast a hopeful glance at Draco.

“Would you?”

“Of course.” Said Draco for the second time that day, though this time he actually meant it. Anything better than joining the twenty five Weasley’s at the stand, five of whom looked ready to flay him alive.

Albus beamed at him, and took off towards the piano with James and Scorpius. By the time Draco reached it they had cleared the stage for him. The father of the four year old seemed happy enough to pull his kid away from the instrument.

“Can you play something fast?” Asked James. “I don’t like those slow depressing bits.” And he pulled a disgusted face.

“No problem. Fast is my favorite.” Even more so now that the Weasley firing squad was approaching the piano. If he played something soft they might try and talk to him despite the music.

Draco sat down, cracked his fingers for an extra dramatic effect, and began to play.

He started fast, loud and with closed eyes. His fingers danced over the keys and soon enough he had to bite his bottom lip to suppress a smile.

Oh, if his father could see him now…

He remembered vividly how angry Lucius had been when he found out his son, his only son, was playing a muggle instrument.

How happy he had been when he found an old, dusty piano in and abandoned classroom at Hogwarts. The hours he’d spent trying to find tuning spells in the library….

And then, of course, the time his aunt Bellatrix had caught him playing, resulting in a punishment that had nearly turned him into Frank or Alice Longbottom. How even after that he hadn’t quit because how could he give up the only thing that enabled him to make something instead of break it?

He opened his eyes to see a small but growing crowd standing around him, a crowd that was there because of something he voluntarily chose to do. A crowd of people who didn’t know him or his past, but just enjoyed the notes flowing from his blood stained hands.

But the blood had dried up a long time ago, and for the first time Draco fully realised that. He was aware that to these people he was not an ex-death eater or even a Slytherin, but just him. A guy with some talent for playing the piano, who tried to brighten other people’s day a bit by producing a colourful tune.

He quite liked being ‘just him’.

Someone standing behind him brushed a lock of hair from his face. A hand squeezed his shoulder. “I had no idea you could play like this.” Whispered Harry in his ear.

The line almost caused Draco to slip. He was a sucker for Harry’s whispered words as well.

The Weasley’s who had gathered around the piano as well looked baffled when Draco bent his head backwards to kiss his boyfriend. “I still have some secrets left in my closet, after all there’s a lot of room there since my sexuality came out.”

Harry laughed. Merlin he had the greatest laugh.

The man wrapped his arms around Draco as the last tunes from the piano died away. “That was nearly as beautiful as you are. And I’m sorry for abandoning you, I forgot the entire family was coming.”

“Well.” Whispered Draco in Harry’s ear as the crowd burst out in applause. “I think I’ve managed to survive these five minutes without the saviour at my side.”

And after a brief pause he added; “Of course, you still have to make it up to me later, but we have until Christmas for that.”

Harry turned bright red, but still pulled Draco a little closer as they walked towards the others. Draco couldn’t suppress the smile on his face this time. Even the judgemental glances of the Weasley’s couldn’t make him do that.

“Other dad, can you teach me how to play the piano?” Albus nearly bounced out of enthusiasm. Draco nearly did too, this was the first time Harry’s youngest son, the one who had struggled the most with the divorce, had called him dad.

“Of course, other son.” Draco shot a hesitant look at Harry, he didn’t know if his comment was out of line or not. But it wasn’t.

“Congratulations, other dad.” Harry kissed him. “Looks like you’re stuck with us now.”

Somehow Draco found that he didn’t mind being stuck with Harry and his kids.

Not one bit.


Slowly the train started pulling out of the station, taking Lily, Albus, James and Scorpius with it. Draco missed them already.

“Even after everything we’ve been through, it’s still worth it don’t you think? Life?” Harry was blinking against his tears. The departure of even his youngest kid weighed heavy on him, but at least he wouldn’t be returning to an empty house.

“Yeah.” Sighed Draco. “They make it worth it.” And he nodded at the train. James was still hanging from the window, waving at them. “They and you.”

Ron, George, Percy, Charlie and Bill watched as Harry kissed Draco again. Draco pulled Harry close, and together they watched the train disappear out of sight.

It looked like Draco didn’t need that talk.


So I imagined Draco playing Beethoven “Moonlight” Sonata op 27 # 2 Mov 3 but that doesn’t have to be your music for this of course. If you know any other piano music that might fit please tell me I love piano music!

I don’t know if public piano’s are a thing everywhere but here in Holland and in GB they are. It’s basicly a piano where passe by’s can play on to make waiting more fun.

Also I have never been to King’s cross and I don’t even know if that station has a main hall, but  it’s fanfiction, so I don’t feel the need to be geographically accurate, sorry

Only Yours

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader
Word count: 3863
Warnings/Tags: angry/possessive sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks), grace kink, wings
Special thanks to @sumara62 for the beta.  Your little touches make this so much better and you never fail to help me find a title when I get stuck.  

Written for my 100/200 follower celebration

Requested by: @girl-next-door-writes
Quote: “Wait a minute.  Are you jealous?”
Kink:  Calming the others anger (with sex)

“You’re pretty, you know that?” Sam slurs his words from the passenger side of your car and you resist the urge to roll your eyes as you try to half-drag, half-help him out of the vehicle.  You know it’s the alcohol talking.  He isn’t too unlike his brother in that he lights up at anything with a pair of breasts and a decent face.  He just needs to hit a certain level of intoxication first.  

He has to be caught in one hell of a dry spell to be flirting with you, however.  

“You’re heavy, you know that?” you say dryly, finally getting him to his feet, though most of his weight lands on you as he lurches forward.  You manage to maneuver him to your side, his arm draped across your shoulders as you begin the slow and thankfully short walk to the motel room.  

“I’m being sherioush,” he insists, sounding almost miffed you aren’t.  

The man is sherioushly going to feel it come morning after the ridiculous amount of whiskey, tequila, and rum he downed tonight.

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Nursey Week Prompt #5 - Muse/Tomorrow.


“Nurse, if you move again, I will stab you with a paint scraper,” Lardo snaps out, not looking up from her canvas. She scratches her thumbnail over an imperfection in the white expanse in front of her, flicking off the offending fleck.

Nursey sniffs from across the room, muttering to himself.

“What was that?” Lardo says, looking up at him sharply.

“Nothing, Lards! Nothing at all.” He’s quiet for another few seconds. “My nose itches.” Lardo drops her head down to her chest and lets out a long-suffering sigh. She tosses her pencil into the wells at the bottom of her easel and circles her easel.

“Don’t. Move.” She chides him. Carefully, she reaches out and scratches gently along the bridge of Nursey’s nose.

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2

On the evening of 16 June, 2009, 18-year-old Engelico Castillo called the police to inform them that her cousin, 2-year-old Jada Justice was missing. Castillo had been babysitting the toddler when she drove to a nearby gas station for milk and cigarettes, leaving Jada in the back seat. When Castillo returned, Jada was gone, she claimed. A search party was put together and they scoured the area for any clues as to her whereabouts.

Castillo’s story started to fall to pieces when witnesses at the gas station said they hadn’t seen anything suspicious. In fact, they reported that the car had nobody in the back seat when Castillo pulled into the gas station. Furthermore, when sniffer dogs were brought in to aid in the search, they were unable to pick up a scent. Police soon began to look into the events running up to the disappearance. Jada’s mother told them that she had left Jada in the care of Castillo and her 23-year-old boyfriend, Timothy Tkachik. When the duo were brought in for questioning, a large burn on Tkachik’s arm was noticed by police. The following week, after intense interrogation, Tkachik directed police to a swampy area in LaPorte County in northwest Indiana. Encased in a cement block, the body of Jada was discovered.

As it transpired, Castillo and Tkachik, who were both heroin addicts and drug dealers, had become enraged at Jada when she spilt some juice while they were babysitting her. Both Castillo and Tkachnik yelled at the 2-year-old before taking turns spanking her. As the day progressed, Jada decided she would share her lunch with the dog. This infuriated the drug addicted duo who unleashed fury on the little girl by slapping her, shoving her, hitting her with a belt, and pulling her hair. At one point, she was hit so hard that she fell against a table and cut her eye. The sadistic couple then decided they would tie her to a chair and beat her senseless.

Following he brutal attack, Castillo and Tkachik drove from Hobart to Chicago to buy more heroin. They had been injecting it perpetually throughout the day. Jada was shoved into the back seat to accompany them on this trip. As they drove to their destination, they noticed she wasn’t breathing. Nevertheless, they carried on their way to pick up their heroin. When they returned home, they hid her in the basement while they decided what to do. The following day, Castillo and Tkachik attempted to burn the small lifeless body in a garbage can stuffed with garbage bags but to no avail. It was here that Tkachik sustained a burn on his arm. When they discovered that her body was still intact, they decided to encase her in cement and dump her in swampland.

Castillo was sentenced to 65 years while Tkachik received life imprisonment.

This Is Going to Be About Heroes

Enough of the educators who were at ALAN/ NCTE ‘16 have asked me for the transcript of my keynote there that I’ve finally decided to post it. Here it is, give or take.


_________


This is going to be about heroes.

I’m going to tell you three stories about heroes and bravery, and then I’m going to tell you how all three of those stories could be told differently.

Nowadays, I find myself a professional storyteller. A maker of heroes. I spend my days putting swords in stones, monsters under beds, ghosts in attics. I have learned that often the difference between a hero and a villain is merely the narrator I choose for the lens of the story. I have learned, too, that the difference between a horror and a romance is sometimes as simple as where I choose to begin the story. A tragedy and a comedy can convey the same events — the difference is in how you tell them.

I’ve also learned that this isn’t just true of the stories I write. It’s true in the story I’m living. The first hero I ever built was myself.

So. These three stories. I’m sharing these three stories about heroes because I want to talk about how the most important stories we tell are the ones we tell about ourselves. Those who have the power and wherewithal to change the narrative of the events around them are the ones who will change the future. Those who have the guts to say “that’s not my version of events” when they hear someone else telling their story are the ones who get to own their own story.

Here is story number one: I drove down to NCTE from my home in Virginia on Saturday. It was supposed to be about a seven and a half hour drive but it turned into a ten hour trip because of Atlanta traffic. Because of my car’s tiny gas tank, I ended up stopping for gas three times. Each time I pulled into a station, a thing happened, the same thing that’s been happening every time I park my car in a public place for the past month. I’ll get out of my car and swipe my card at the pump, feeling like there are eyes on me. I plug in my zip code and put the fuel nozzle in the car, and as I do, I’ll see that the eyes are attached to a motorist or a pedestrian who has paused to stare at me. By the time the tank is full and I’ve gotten my receipt, I’ll discover that they’ve made their way over to me. The conversation goes pretty much the same way every time.

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All Or Nothing - Part 2 - If I’m Lucky - Smut

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 5,847
AN: Okay! Here it is! Finally! Sorry for the long wait, this was just not coming to me as well as I wanted it to. This is the final part. Special giant thanks to @writing-obrien and @sarcasticallystilinski for their input and encouragement!


There’s a couple songs in this, here are the links for them
Cold Coffee by Ed Sheeran
If I’m Lucky by State Champs
Dancing With A Wolf by All Time Low (This isn’t really in here but I imagine this being the song that’s played when the fic ends, plus it’s where the bands name comes from!)

PART 1



You woke up wrapped in blankets, your body pressed against Stiles, his arms holding you close to his chest. You opened your eyes to peer up at him, sighing internally at how peaceful and handsome he looked when he was sleeping. You closed your eyes, snuggling back into him, not quite ready to deal with the aftermath of what you’d done, trying to stay in the bubble of happiness a little longer.

His arms moved to pull you closer, his chest rising and falling with every breath. “You awake?” He whispered, causing you to sigh.

“Yeah.” You shifted away so you could see him better, your heart thumping at the look he was giving you, half asleep and smiling.

“Mm.” He leaned down, his lips meeting yours softly. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I was afraid you might run off in the middle of the night.”

You chuckled. “It crossed my mind.” You moved off of him, settling beside him and pulling the blankets up around you.

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Big Sean pens open letter to his younger self: “One day your city will need you”

Reflecting on the themes of his album, Big Sean has penned an open letter to his younger self, walking him through the most difficult decisions he will eventually have to face. He touches on his decision to pursue music over college, his early encounters with American racism and how to stay motivated in the face of hardship.

Dear Sean,

Listen, I know you’ve spent your whole life trying to push back those telling you to not be so hard on yourself. Relax, come hang, chill more. You didn’t listen to them then, and I doubt you’re going to listen to me now, but I want to tell you this from the heart — our heart: There is more to your life than your future.

You’ve been telling yourself that by 21 you have to be on, and at 22 you have to have a song on the radio. Rapping’s been your job since before it was your job, before you were out of high school, before you faced the decisions that would change everything. That hustle will create your path for you and be a testament to the light you have to share. But it will leave you with a lot more to work on.

Being present takes as much effort and talent as killing a verse, or writing a good song. I know it doesn’t feel as natural, but remember those times when you gave yourself the opportunity to live and feel free — to enjoy your friends, enjoy your family, enjoy young love. That’s where you found the inspiration to write and go harder. At 28, this is what you’re working on now. The high won’t last.

Not everyone around you now is going to make it all the way with you. You’re gonna wish they were there to see your success, but it’s not your fault they’re not there. You’re going to lose people, family members, your grandma and you’re going to wish you spent more time with them. This is what I’m talking about being present. As for your friends, you’ll hold their arms and give them the opportunities. You can only put the people you love in positions to succeed. There will be people who won’t hold up their end. They’ll fall back. Never blame yourself.

Because here’s what it is: It’s not about how hard you work; it’s about how smart you work. People are working 16 hour days, taking the bus, putting in more work than a lot of billionaires and still not coming out happy or financially stable. You’ll face this fear in deciding to do music or to go to college and get your bachelor’s, your masters, like your mom and grandma and granddad did to become teachers. You will be a teacher yourself, just in a completely a different way that you know feels right.

Your mother will fight for you, but know it’s not easy for her. Everyone in the family will come down on her, like “How can you let him not go to school?” It’s going to be a huge thing. It will upset the fam at first, but you will make the right choice. Show your mother the love she deserves.

Your parents will be right when they tell you as a teenager that you’ll come across times when people will judge you for how you look, for you being young, black, driving in a car. They’ll tell you you shouldn’t drive with your hat to the back or not wear certain clothes. You’ll think they’re crazy, but you’ll see things, like Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, names you don’t know yet, but you’ll come to know too well in the future. They’re just trying to protect you.

The only thing you can do to change anything is to make yourself better and send prayers. Any act of violence, you will look back and regret. It’ll cross your mind on the way back from visiting Michigan State, when you pull into a gas station to shouts of “Get out of here, nigger!” I think they have a large KKK crowd there or something in Howell, MI. It’ll make you angry, but you’ll realize that even though you’re on the same planet, you’re living in different worlds.

You can’t blame them for how they were raised, their ignorance. You can try to let them know that that’s wrong, or do better and show them. But feel comfortable in the fact that sometimes you’re just wasting your breath. You’ll rise above it through your actions.

Because one day your city will need you. Flint up the road will need you. They’re going to need all the help they can get. Give these people a hero to look up to — a black one at that — one that the whole city can be proud of. Don’t put energy into things you can’t change. The time you’ll put into tearing yourself apart over things like “I don’t want this person running my country. This mayor made a mistake,” you’ll lose it. What you can do is put energy into yourself and encourage everyone to do the same, and together, we’ll rise. Watch Sean deliver his message on video

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“On the Night You Were Born”-an Everlark one-shot

It’s definitely been awhile, but it’s @keelaree‘s birthday and I’m coming out for my girl!

Have mercy…I’m still a little out of my writing element…

Summary: A fateful, rainy night brings an interesting patient into Dr. Peeta Mellark’s ER…

Title—but not plot—taken from the famous children’s book.

 On the Night You Were Born

She walked into the emergency room of Panem Hospital, quiet and unassuming. Her thick, ebony locks pulled into a ropy braid that rested against hunched, exhausted shoulders.

In the hubbub of the lobby, packed with late-night drunken injuries and feverish children with their parents, Dr. Peeta Mellark noticed her right away.

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Girl Next Door Part Three

“How’s school going?” Linda, Y/N’s mom, asked, as she handed the salad bowl to Y/N.

She grabbed it, placing some on her plate. It had been a week since she had snuck into Harry’s room, and a week of her ignoring Harry. She slipped out at five am, ran back to her house, made herself a smoothie and went for her usual run. She came back, got dressed, and went to school as if nothing happened. She ignored his gaze, his texts, and any attempt he made of getting in contact with her.

Harry had woken up that day, confused. Y/N had never left after she spent a night, she would wake up first and then she would toss and turn, trying to wake him up. When Harry did wake up she would all innocent and claim it was an accident and she didn’t mean to wake him, then the two would lay there for a while, just relaxing in the warmth of the blankets.

But he was surprised to see that she was gone, leaving him alone and his body cold. She had left the window open and when he got up to close it he had seen her, she was in her robe, her hair up and tangled with a towel. She walked over and closed her curtains without a smile or a wave, leaving him confused. He had texted her, knocked on her door, and tried to stop her in the hallway, but she ignored him, she didn’t bother to try and communicate with him.

“Good,” Y/N nods, “we have competition in four weeks, and the musical goes up in eight, so it’s a bit tense.”

“How’s Scott?” Mark, her father, asked, as he served himself some chicken.

“Good,” Y/N lied, setting down the bowl and tucking a hand behind her ear.

“I was talking to Anne the other day she says Harry is becoming too much. He doesn’t come home, and if he does he’s slamming doors and swearing, I’m just thankful you cut all ties with that boy,” Linda says, her voice full of disgust.

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