pulse speeds

Music Major Gothic

-The metronome keeps going, at its eternal, pulsing speed. You turned it off 3 days ago. It slowly drives you mad.

-You hear quiet sobbing from beyond the wall of your practice room. You go to check on your comrade, but the room beside you is empty. You realize it was you that was sobbing.

-The tuner is set to A = 460. You are unsure how, as your tuner does not have a setting that high.

-Your professor hands you your math midterm. You are in music theory. You do not understand.

-How long have you been in this practice room? You are uncertain. There are no windows and time doesn’t seem to pass here. You emerge to discover that it’s 2AM and you missed your graduation.

-Your private instructor tells you to buy a piece. You scour the internet, but you cannot find it. You find one copy, for $600, in “poor” condition. There are no recordings of it. It is not on imslp.

-The practice room clock has never worked in your years here, but it somehow always reads a different time.

-You suddenly forget how to play your instrument. Your fingers fumble on the foreign object. You’ve never played this piece before. Juries are tomorrow.

-The practice rooms are all full. You wait for hours, but no one comes out. You knock on the door, you just want to practice. Something hisses at you. You do not try again.

-There are intruders in the music building. They are unwelcome. They know this, and hurry quickly in and out of their music appreciation gen ed class. They do not make eye contact. You hate them, but you do not understand why.

-You see a familiar face in the hallway. You do not remember their name, but you do remember what instrument they play. They’ve been attending this school for seven years and you’re certain they graduated…..twice

-Your instrument whispers to you while you sleep. You haven’t been practicing enough. The voice is threatening, demanding. You’ve lost 2 roommates because of it. They never informed you of this. Your 3rd one trembles.

-You reach for a pencil during class only to discover that you have none left. You’ve lost the last one. Classes started three days ago. You weep softly.

-Your ensemble director keeps conducting. He never speaks. You sneak out when the class ends. He doesn’t stop. What is he conducting, anyway? It’s syllabus day.

Cookies (M)

Originally posted by wonhontology

Wonho x Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Face riding, slight spanking, dirty talk,

Word Count: 3,035

Summary:  You’re new in the neighbourhood, and decide to be a good person and go introduce yourself to your neighbours. Turns out that was a bad idea.

A/N: This is my fic. I’m re-posting onto my sideblog.


Being the new girl was tough. It was tough in high school, it was tough at a new job, and it’s still tough on moving day. You had just moved downtown into a cute apartment on the 10th floor of a pretty nice building. You loved being so close to everything, and the view you had made the hassle of moving up here worth it. You were still unfamiliar with your neighbours and neighbourhood, having only moved in a week ago. You took the opportunity a rare day off gave you to walk around and explore, as well as introduce yourself (finally). Baking wasn’t your strongest skill, but you tried, and made some cookies to take to your neighbours. You were glad you had taken this chance to introduce yourself, as everyone you met seemed friendly and kind.

Until you met 10A.

10A was the guy that resided in the apartment next to yours; he was relatively quiet, so you didn’t know what to expect. You knocked on the door and waited for the owner to open it, and when he did, you regretted doing this ‘introducing-yourself-to-your-neighbours-to-be-nice’ bullshit in the first place.

He was beautiful, and he was in nothing but a towel. His milky white skin still glistening with water even in the harsh lighting of the hallway, his damp bleach blond hair that begged to be touched, wide brown eyes that made him look both cute and sexy, and plump, pouty pink lips that made you want to bite them until they bruised, his toned chest and stomach that made you want a peek under that towel, he was too much at once and you were quickly becoming a flustered mess. Your eyes travelled back up only to see him staring back at you, eyebrow raised, head cocked to the side, and a smirk plastered on his face.

“You gonna tell me what you’re here for or are you gonna just keep staring, baby?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes, your earlier lust filled thoughts were shattered by the conceited remark.

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Yongguk - Dangerously Innocent ♥ [Part 1]

Originally posted by doitforbangyongguk

Member: B.A.P’s Bang Yongguk

Pairing: MafiaLeader!Yongguk &  You

Genre: Angst-ish

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Shooting and other Mafia stuff.

Words: 1,940

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Epilogue.


It all started with an accident. Just a coincidence. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or was it the right place and the right time? You are just walking down the street after buying something at the grocery store when a person dressed in all black brushes past you, ripping the plastic bag from your fingers and spilling its contents all over the street. The person stops abruptly and looks at you- and that’s a big mistake. Heavy footsteps are behind you and you turn around to see who is apparently following him since he seems to be running from someone, when you suddenly feel an arm wrap around your neck and the cold metal of a gun pressing against your temple. Your pulse speeds up as you look at two young, beautiful men. Almond eyes, one of them has dark hair and one of them bleached blond hair. They are slim but don’t look fragile at all in their black dress shirts and matching pants. “Oh come on” the blond one says and cracks his knuckles “Pulling an innocent bystander into this? You know Mr. Bang won’t like this” he says and pulls out a shiny black pistol. The other man has a fox like face with a sharp jawline and his eyes are clear and his hand is silently hovering over his pocket where you could see the shape of another gun. The street is empty and you are currently in a relatively bad neighborhood so even if you would scream people would probably just ignore it. “Let this poor girl go and you will make it out of this alive. . maybe.” The blond says and aims his gun at you. . Or the person behind you. You aren’t quite sure. When the man behind you doesn’t let you go you hear a sigh and then a loud bang followed by a sharp pain in your ankle and the hand around your neck is gone immediately “Well done Dae you hit her.” You hear another voice say. It has to be the brown haired man. You fall to your knees and look at your ankle. There is blood. So. So much blood. You feel black creep in on you vision but try to fight it – Unfortunately you aren’t strong enough and you feel your body go limp before the darkness consumes you.

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Reminder for those concerned:

Accurate ways to assess a person’s health:
—– Teeth (Are they rotting, yellowed, missing?)
—– Skin (Is it sickly green, yellow, rash, injuries?)
—– Eyes (Are they red, pink, half-lidded, bruised?)
—– Breathing (Is it shallow, heavy, fast, laborous, coughing?)
—– Blood circulation (Can they feel their extremities? Pulse speed?) 
—– Posture (Do they seem tired? Dizzy? Standing up straight? Limping?)
—– Presence (Are they often missing? Do they not seem “all there”?)

Inaccurate ways to assess a person’s health:
—– Size

anonymous asked:

Potential S/O for Talon since they desperately need a healer

I’m gonna write this one kind of like one big poly family since it’s Talon, but if that wasn’t what you meant I could go back and do them each individually, and yes those poor babies do need a healer. XD 


“Y/N! We’re past the entrance facing the enemy, move in and get to work,” Reaper’s rough voice came through your earpiece. 

“Yes sir,” You chirped back.

Picking up your modified pistol you ducked and ran in to the building. The rest of the group told you stay back until they made it inside and had picked off the first line of defense. They said a healer would be the first to get picked off if they were to follow in during the initial break in. 

The one needing the most healing at the moment was Reaper. He was leading the charge while the others were doing their thing. Widowmaker was heading forward to take out the target while Sombra was disabling the alarms and security system. Doomfist stayed back to prevent any back up from sneaking around them, and preventing your escape. 

Setting your pistol to healing you quickly shot pulses at Reaper’s back while he gunned down the soldiers who were rushing in. Your pistol was modified to have three modes; healing, boosting, and damage. Despite it doing little damage you found that it was good when you were in a pinch. 

There was a loud bang and you heard Sombra cry out in pain. You checked on Reaper’s health before turning and running to her. She had been hit by one of the soldiers she killed while disabling the security system. 

“I’ve got you,” You told her turning you pistol and firing healing pulses at the bullet wound. 

“Behind you,” She said before shooting a soldier who had followed you over. 

You had been so focused on healing her that you weren’t even watching yourself. Breathlessly you gave her your thanks. 

“No problem cutie, now get back out there and heal the others,” She laughed. 

She gave you a quick boop on the nose before running out to start hacking the soldiers’ weaponry. You on the other hand set out to check on Reaper and Widowmaker. 

When Reaper saw you come out he turned and made sure he made a path for you. He shot all the soldiers in your way to make it easier for you to get to him and, if need be, Widowmaker. With yourself covered you pressed your finger against your earpiece to check on Doomfist. 

“Hey Doomfist, everything alright?” 

“I’m fine y/n, but do you need any help?” 

“I’m good. Reaper’s got me,” You replied. 

Once you made it behind Reaper he turned his attention back to the assault. Seeing as his health was fine you set your gun to boost and started sending him boost pulses. With his shot speed faster and damage higher he was now able to push through the soldiers a lot easier spread the effort out a lot more. The ones he wasn’t able to kill Sombra picked off with her machine pistol. 

“Target eliminated,” Widowmaker’s voice came through your earpiece. 

The rest of you knew what to do and immediately started heading out. Reaper cut a path for you and Sombra hacked open any doors that made the process slower then hacked them shut so the soldiers couldn’t follow. 

Widowmaker and Doomfist caught up with the three of you outside and together you all rushed toward the armored truck that had come to pick you up. Doomfist had warned that some members of Overwatch were on their way, so you needed to hurry. 

Doomfist picked you up and tossed you in first, making sure that you were safe before getting in himself. Reaper stayed outside while Sombra and Widow got in to keep and eye on things. With him in the truck took off back toward the base. 


“You did wonderful y/n,” Widowmaker gushed. 

You had begun to assess everyone’s health while you had some free time. For the most part all you had to go was give everyone a little something to top their health off except for Doomfist who was missing almost a quarter of his health. You had to scold him for that. 

“Yeah you did so good y/n,” Sombra agreed. 

“Yes quite impressive,” Reaper chimed in. 

“Hm, thank you y/n,” Doomfist added.

“You guys,” You replied with a deep blush on your face. 

When you were recruited to talon you thought you were only going to be dead weight compared to them. They were all so talented you figured they didn’t need a healer, but boy were you wrong. The four of them appreciated you more than you could ever know. You took some of the stress off of them and allowed them to slip up a little, for which they were so grateful. Little did you know they all had started to find you a little cute. 

“How about we get something to eat? My treat,” You offered. 

They all disagreed and insisted on paying. To them you had done too much work and did not need to be buying them a meal. Instead everyone was going to pitch in and get pizza back at the base. 


(If this isn’t really what you wanted feel free to ask for something different)

keeping count (losing count)

This started as a headcanon, but got a little long for bullet-points, so here we go. A little meandering from my tired brain on Flintwood. I don’t do Valentine’s Day, so this is belatedly in lieu. Dedicated to the lovely Flintwood squad at large.

Premise: Marcus uses numbers to manage anxiety. He keeps count of their kisses. One day, he slips, and he says the number out loud.


Kissing Oliver is always different each time for Marcus. He keeps count, and he isn’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t know how else to cope, or if it’s because each one bears remembering. It might well be both. Numbers help him to keep the chaos in his head ordered in the same way that Quidditch strategy does. He’s never told anyone. He never plans to.

There’s the first time, when their blood is boiling mid-argument; there’s a cut on Oliver’s lip and Marcus’ eye is swollen from where the other punched him. Oliver’s mouth tastes like blood when he closes in, firstly just wanting him to shut up, to stop talking, to stop being so tempting and beyond reach, to just stop, but then Oliver yanks his head back and bites his lower lip, turns what should have conquered him into silence into yet another challenge. Marcus is really, really bad at resisting challenges. As it turns out, he’s even worse at resisting them when they come in the form of a Gryffindor Quidditch captain, whose hair is always a mess and who, as it turns out, makes not kissing him seem like a sin.

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REALMS (PT5)

Originally posted by youngest-k

REQUEST: HEY I JUST READ ALL OF YOUR FICS HEHE AND I REALLY LIKE YOUR WRITING! CAN I REQUEST A VERY PROTECTIVE DEMON!TAE FIC PLS? DOESN’T MATTER IF FLUFFY OR SMUTTY THANK YOU SO MUCH X 

GENRE: Demon!Au

Why do I need to posses her?”

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Frost  (Chapter Four)

Tony and Loki try to get closer. Thor and Tony talk about the hjartslattur bond. Loki has a break down.
Can’t wait to hear from you guys, all the responses/messages about this fic has been awesome! If you want to be added to the tag list, hit up my ASK BOX.

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)
*********************

“Why do you call Thor ‘Our King’?” Tony asked as they headed back into the castle when it was finally too dark to continue gardening.

“What else would I call him?” Loki sent him an odd look. “That is his title, just like you are Sir Anthony, though I will admit to having a more difficult time with that one.”

“Yeah, no I think we all know Sir Anthony sounds stupid.” Tony agreed with a laugh and the tiniest smile creased Loki’s mouth. “I guess I mean, why don’t you call him brother? Or Thor?”

“He is not my brother.” Loki hated that the words sounded so bitter. “And I have no right to address him by his given name. Not only is he King, but he and I– he and I–” Loki cleared his throat. “Addressing him as ‘Our King’ is just prudent.”

“That’s fair.” Tony nodded. “Well, since I’m never going to refer to you as ‘Prince’, feel free to never call me Sir Anthony.”

“You never even refer to me as Loki, I certainly don’t expect you to address me as Prince.”

“Yeah, well Reindeer Games, you threw me out a window once. So you know.”

“I would ask your forgiveness for that.” Loki stopped halfway down the hall and grasped Tony’s wrist. “I am not sure if you are aware of all that preceded those events but–”

“God you guys talk like you’re out of Knights of the Round Table.” Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. Thor has tried to explain it, it’s all very Norse Mythology and I can’t say I understand it but I do know you weren’t really acting under your own power or whatever, alright? No harm no foul.”

“Anthony.” Loki’s grip tightened and he stared down into deep brown eyes. “I would ask your forgiveness.”

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Beautiful Disaster (Negan x Reader) Smut

Request by @ellayf-of-ravenclaw: Kink #15 for Negan pleaseeeee :D Preferably both break up and make up wink wink.

Summary: Tired of feeling used, you break up with Negan. But he isn’t so willing to let you go.

Warnings: SMUT, Oral, Rough Sex, Sweet and Fluffy Sex, Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Loving and Caring Negan.

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Telltale final pt: A Peter Pevensie fic,

A/N: You know how I said in the previous chapters that it’s not explicit, just a bit racy? Well, this one’s explicit. :) Thanks to everyone following this! Everything’s below the “keep reading” line this time, as I knew explicit stuff isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

Here’s the links to the previous chapters if you’re new.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

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Obey- Baekhyun Smut

A/N Here’s a requested Daddy Baekhyun Piece for Hump day! Enjoy! -A

Originally posted by xehun

I opened my eyes and sat up, my arms stretched above my head as a large yawn escaped me. I had just woken up from a much-needed nap when I felt my phone buzz. My eyes widened when I saw what it said.

Received message: Baby girl, you better be ready when I get home. I found your ‘Secret Drawer’ yesterday before I left and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. You’re in so much trouble princess. My hand is twitching just thinking about it.

“Fuck” I said aloud, nervous about the text. Baekhyun was usually the kindest, most caring man on the planet, but when you disobeyed him, he was completely different.

I ran to the drawer that I had hoped to keep secret from him, only to find the one sex toy that I did have was now missing.

I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I had purchased it a few months ago while he was away on tour, so I had something to entertain me while he was gone.

Baekhyun must have found it and taken it last night, because now I was in for one of the worst punishments I have ever gotten, I would imagine.

He wasn’t thrilled that I had it, and he’s not going to be thrilled when he finds out how many times I’ve used it while he was gone.

Just thinking about the punishment he could deal out made my ass sore. I was not prepared for what would happen when he got home.

I didn’t bother texting him back because I knew better. No amount of sorry would soften the blow, so it was best that I sat quietly and waited for him to get home.

I got myself around, having a quick lunch and cleaning up around the house before I received another message.

Received: I’m on my way home now princess, be ready, and put on the blue outfit I like.

I quickly did as I was told and changed into his favorite teal and dark blue lingerie set, and I patiently waited for him on the bed.

A few minutes later I hear the door open and his keys hit the counter. I waited patiently as his footsteps became louder the closer he got to the bedroom. I heard him toss his jacket onto the couch before he entered the bedroom, creaking the door open slowly.

He looked amazing. His blue and white striped dress shirt fit him perfectly, his sleeves rolled up at the elbow. He had on navy blue trousers that were all but hiding the less than small problem that was currently in his pants. He always got like this when I disobeyed. It fueled him, it made him someone that I wasn’t always used to.

I was so used to the soft, caring Baekhyun, that when he went into daddy mode, it’s like I was with a totally different person. I almost bit my lip in response to how he looked but I quickly stopped myself, my eyes dropping to look down at the bed I was sitting on.

“Baby girl, look at me.” He said, his voice much softer than I had originally anticipated.

I looked up at him, without saying a word. He looked at me and smirked for a moment before his face changed to a stern expression.

“Do you know why you’re in trouble, Princess?” He asked, pacing in front of me. Of course I knew, and I wasn’t about to lie to him, because my punishment would be far, far worse.

I nodded my head, maintaining eye contact with him.

“So, you know what you’ve been hiding from me. Might I ask how long?”

I stammered out a response as best I could “Uh.. a-a-about two m-months ago? W-when you were o-on tour.” I said, nervous at his reaction.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been fucking yourself for two months now behind my back?” He was calm, but his voice was much louder than before, and more serious.

I didn’t say a word. I dropped my head to look at the bed, somewhat ashamed of what I had done.

“How many times?” He asked sternly, walking over to his suitcase.

Again, I remained silent.

“How many fucking times did you use this on yourself (Y/N)?!” he almost shouted at this point.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “Five times. That’s it.” I replied.

“Five times you’ve fucked yourself? Five?? Am I not enough?” he scoffed, pulling something from his suitcase.

“NO that’s not it! You weren’t here and I was lonely.” I tried to explain.

“You were lonely? So, you did the job yourself while I was in hotel rooms not touching myself. Remember the deal? The rules? One of the biggest rules we have was that when we weren’t with each other we wouldn’t touch ourselves. You agreed. So now, you deal with the consequences.”

“Y-Yes daddy” I stammered.

“And you used this? of all things?” He asked, holding up my vibrator. It was long, slightly thick, and did the job for when baek was gone, almost matching him in size, almost.

“Jesus (Y/N), No wonder you used it that much while I was gone. Look at it!” He exclaimed, waving it at me.

“Daddy, I”

“No. I am going to punish you now. No more talking. Get on your hands and knees.” He instructed before sitting on the bed, pulling me across his lap.

“You get two very, very hard spankings for each time you fucked yourself with this thing. Got it?”

I nodded my head in understanding and braced myself.

“No no. Don’t you dare tense up, or it’ll make it much worse for you.”

I relaxed my body and waited for him to start.

“I want you to count out loud each time I spank you. Understood Princess?” He instructed.

“Understood, Daddy”, I said, mentally preparing myself for what was about to come.

I closed my eyes and felt the first sting of his hand as it came down hard on my ass, stinging profusely.

“One” I said loud enough for him to hear.

“Two” I said as I felt the second smack.

I continued to count, but by swat 5 my ass felt as if it were on fire, causing my body to respond in more ways than one. I was in pain, but I was also turned on way more than I cared to admit, and I was beginning to soak through my panties.

“Oh you like that baby?” He said as he continued to spank me. “Keep counting.”

“Nine”

“Ten” I said as he finally finished. He rubbed his hand over my ass to help calm the pain a little. The pressure was a welcome relief from the spanking.

He rolled me onto my back, wasting no time. He moved my panties to the side and inserted a finger into me and pumped a few times before giving me my next instruction.

“Since you seem to like this so much, I’m going to fuck you with it, and then I’m going to show you what a proper fucking really is.” He growled as he removed himself from me. “And you’re not allowed to come until I say. Got it?”

“Yes Daddy. Understood” I whimper, not ready for what was about to happen.

He slowly slid the toy into me and began pumping it in and out as he attached his mouth to my clit. He started slow, lapping and sucking at my clit as he pumped in and out of me at an excruciatingly slow pace.

He turned the bottom of the vibrator and it turned on sending pulses through my body. My orgasm was quickly approaching but I knew I had to do what I could to stop myself from coming undone.

I bit my lip hard, almost to the point of drawing blood, I let a long moan escape my lips as I tried so hard to control myself.

“Seems like you like that a lot, huh princess?” He said, a wicked smirk plastered across his face as he looked up at me from between my legs.

He reattached his mouth to my clit and turned the toy once more, the pulses increasing in speed. He pumped it in and out faster than before, and he sucked hard on my clit. I was close to bursting and I was trying so hard not to give in to my orgasm.

I closed my eyes tightly and focused on not coming and before I know it, Baekhyun was removing everything from me completely. He turned the toy off and sat it to the side before speaking.

“So far so good Princess, now let daddy show you how he takes care of his princess.”

He quickly removed his clothes and helped me remove mine before hovering over me.

“I can fuck you better than that toy ever could, Princess. Here. Let me show you.” He said as he slid into me.

“Fuck Daddy” I moaned out as he filled me. He pumped in and out of me slowly at first, then increased his pace, fucking me into the mattress. He pulled my hair hard, yanking my head to one side as he quickly bit and sucked my neck, sure to leave a bruise.

“That’s to show everyone who you fucking belong to. You’re mine princess. And I’m going to show you exactly why.”

He continued fucking me hard and fast, my orgasm building yet again. A string of moans left my mouth as he continued at the intense rate.

“Fuck daddy I’m so close.” I whined, “Please let me come.

“Not yet baby girl. Just wait.” He said as his hand snaked around my throat. He placed pressure on my throat, cutting off my airflow as he continued fucking me hard and fast. “Just a few more moments. I’ll tell you when.”

I looked up at him, keeping eye contact as he pumped in and out of me furiously.

“Come for me, Princess. Now.” He said as he released his hold on my throat. I gasped for air and the rush of oxygen pushed me over the edge. My legs shook violently as I came and I clenched around him hard.

“Fuck Princess you feel so good” he moaned out as his own orgasm took over.

He collapsed on top of me and we stayed there for a few moments. He removed himself from me and headed to the bathroom, returning with a warm wet washcloth and a towel to help me clean up.

“You did so good, Princess. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked, handing me the washcloth

“No Daddy, I’m fine.” I replied, taking the wash cloth from him and cleaning myself off.

“Good. Now about that toy” He began

“I’m sorry Daddy, it will never happen again.” I replied, looking at him innocently.

“Good, because if it happens again, the punishment will be far worse.” He replied, warning me.

“Actually Princess, I may keep this locked up, never know when it may come in handy.” He smirked.


Words: 1173

“I can’t believe it!” Stan exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “After all these years, you’re finally here! Brother!” He took a step forward, arms out wide to embrace his long lost twin. He didn’t expect the reaction he got.

Ford backed away, his hand flying to the blaster in a holster at his hip. He chided himself silently. This was his brother. It was his twin. He couldn’t shoot him, no matter how terrified he was right now. There were two young kids here too, anyway, along with some sort of large hairless hamster-like man. His heart pounded in his throat. Every instinct he’d developed over the last thirty years was telling him to run get away no run away danger danger danger death you could die.

Stan frowned, taking another cautious step forwards. “Ford? You okay bud?”

Ford shook his head quickly, already beginning to hyperventilate. His back pressed up against the cold metal of the now-closed portal and he held his hands out in front of him, a silent gesture for Stanley to stay away no don’t come closer I’m scared no please no-

Stan registered the fear in his brother’s eyes and stepped away, giving Ford his space. His heart sunk. Ford was acting like a terrified, helpless animal, cowering in the corner from a vicious predator or a cruel owner. He swallowed. What had happened to his brother while he was lost? What had been so terrifying that it had rendered him unable to speak?

Stan took a deep breath, his own hands out in front of him. He took a slow, careful step forwards, keeping his voice low. “Ford, listen to me… I am not going to hurt you…”

Ford pressed his back against the portal even harder, his terrified eyes locked onto his brother. He kept his mouth shut, shaking his head frantically. No no no no get away get away from me get away danger danger

Stan stepped forward again. “Please… I want to help you… I am not going to harm you…” He kept his gaze down. He knew damn well not to ever make eye contact with a terrified animal and right now his brother was no different. He kept his head down low. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe for me, you can do that, okay?”

Ford inhaled through his nose slowly before exhaling through slightly parted lips. He repeated the process until he got his breathing under control, yet he still didn’t say a word.

“Grunkle Stan? Is he okay?” A quiet, soft voice from across the room made Ford’s pulse speed up again and he started breathing quickly. Stan took another step forward until he was within arm’s reach of his twin.

“Easy there, Ford… it’s okay… that’s my - our niece. She’s just a child, she means no harm.” Ford slowed his breathing down again. Stan took this as a sign to move forward once more. He put a hand on Ford’s shoulder, recoiling instantly as his brother slapped the hand away.

Ford took a step sideways and tripped, landing on his backside on the ground. He kicked his legs and scrambled away - danger no no no too close too close - until he was pressed up against the stone wall. He brought his legs in close, his hands up to shield him from everything.

Stan slowly walked over, kneeling down to Ford’s level. “Hey, Poindexter,” he murmured quietly, “look at me. Just look at me, okay?”

Ford slowly lifted his head from behind his hands, lowering his arms to his sides. He laid his right hand over the blaster. He raised his head to meet his brother’s gaze.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help you, okay?” Stan asked softly. “Please, just trust me. I know what I did was terrible and I’ve worked for thirty years to bring you home. I want to help you, Stanford.”

A second quiet voice - much like the first, only male - piped up from across the room. “Stanford? But you’re Stanford, Grunkle Stan.”

A sudden flood of anger rushed through Ford and he fixed Stan with a cold glare, getting to his feet and shoving his brother away from him. Stanley stumbled back and was about to retaliate with a punch of his own, but stopped. He couldn’t lash out at Ford, not while his brother was so petrified. He took a deep breath and got up. “I’m sorry, kids, but I’ve been lying to you all summer. This is Stanford Pines,” he gestured to the furious, terrified man in front of him. “My name is Stanley. I had to lie to keep myself safe long enough to bring my brother home.”

“It’s okay, Grunkle Stan… we understand.” The young girl said softly. She took a few steps forward towards the newcomer. “So you’re our great uncle too, huh?”

Ford swallowed, the anger leaving his face. He exchanged a look with Stanley, who nodded. Ford looked back at the little girl and nodded. The girl grinned widely and took a step forward, her arms out to hug Ford. Ford took a step back. His hand drew the gun from the holster, causing the girl’s eyes to widen and step back.

Stanley saw what was happening and moved in front of her, his arms thrown out wide to shield her. Ford had the gun halfway up to aim at the girl until Stanley knocked it out of his hands. It clattered to the floor and slid out of reach. “She’s a child, Ford. She was just going to hug you.”

Ford chewed his lip, guilt seeping into his mind. He’d been about to shoot her. A young girl. She’d done nothing wrong, but because of his own paranoia he’d seen her as a threat. He took a deep breath and knelt down, holding his arms out. He let a small smile creep onto his face. The young girl ran around Stan and embraced Ford in a hug. Ford sat down on the ground, holding the small girl in his arms. It had been decades since he’d had a proper hug from anyone. He’d missed it.

The young boy, presumably the brother of the girl, walked over slowly. Ford looked up as he came over and smiled a little bit. He held one arm out to him, the other still wrapped around the girl. The boy grinned and ran over, wrapping his arms around Ford.

“Mr Pines?” Ford blinked as the new voice filled the room, coming from the person he’d thought was one of the residents from Rodentus 7. “What are we gonna do about those agent guys upstairs?”

Stan noticed Ford cast him a questioning glance and he scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… uh… the entire US Government may or may not have found out about this place.”

Ford’s expression turned cold and hard. Stan sighed. He sat down on the floor beside his brother and gestured for the other man to join him. “I’ve got some explaining to do…”

_____

@sixerpines

Gah! I wanna write so much more for this but I’ve already got a plate full of writing to do, alongside college work and drawings and UCH!

This prompt was great!

Counting Stars

Happy, happy birthday, @raindrop-rouge. May your day be filled with laughter, smiles, cake, tea, bubbles, and everything good. This is for you. <3


“You are beautiful,” Eren says one night, his soft-spoken words cutting sharply through the quiet darkness surrounding them and making Levi blink open his eyes to meet a pair of shining eyes that regard him intently.

A contradictory frowns forms on his brow, disagreeing and puzzled. Levi isn’t vain, but he knows his body is too small for a grown man, forged by a life on the streets that only taught him how to survive, leaving behind nothing but broad muscles on too feminine limbs, and a too translucent skin paled by an ongoing lack of sunlight and proper nutrition. His movements are sharp and directed, efficient and precise. Not round and smooth like Eren’s.

His face isn’t pretty either, with the droopy eyes that are too small and colourless, half-lidded, shadowed, and bruised by too many restless nights and cruel days, by sorrows and grief and loss, with his pitch black hair that stands too much in contrast to his bloodless skin. His cheekbones are too prominent, his lips thin and chapped. His beard, if he could grow a decent one, would be patchy and just as odd-looking as he is himself. Something that should have been more than it is.

His hands are petite and calloused, his feet cicatrised after years and years of being tied to the straps. His back is marked by them as well, his neck too thin and aching from the weight on his shoulders.

Words don’t come easy to him, and when they do they are harsh and curt and vulgar, and too often not what he really wants to say. His personality is jagged and his spirit jaded, his core blackened by blood and broken beyond repair.

A life in the darkness has made his body strong at least, battered and branded, but powerful and chiseled as well. It’s making him capable of dealing with whatever is thrown their way, able to do his best to protect. He’s a weapon, edged and deathly and violent.

But beautiful…no.

And yet he can see it in Eren’s eyes that meant every word. Their green and blue is paled by the silvery light of the moon and the lingering traces of sleep, but their intensity is just the same as always, conveying nothing but serious honesty and openness.

Levi swallows and reaches out with a rustle of the bed sheets to brush over a prominent, brown eyebrow, a stubbled cheek, a soft bottom lip that wraps around his fingertips to catch them in a kiss.

Eren, Levi knows, isn’t really what others would call a raving beauty either. His hair is mouse brown and mussy all the time—a wild beast like its owner, always vivid and fighting against an invisible force, stubbornly defying anyone’s will in untidy strands that beg to be touched and caressed and ruffled—or combed—, but also daring to try. His skin is tanned by spending his whole life under the merciless sun, the fading stripes around his neck and wrists dividing the parts where the heat kisses him every day from the part that’s always hidden under his clothing.

Despite all of Eren’s hardship there is no single scar on his body, making it into something that shouldn’t really exist, something dangerous and surreal, something barbarous and threatening, something contradictory.

Then there are his eyes. Not quite as big as they once used to be, but still as expressive. Two shiny, burning flames of neither green nor blue and somehow both, that haven’t lost their feral fire over the years and oddly stand out in that still boyish face that should be much more tarnished than it is. They are just as unnatural as the rest of him.

He is perilous and an oxymoron simply by existing, by still living and breathing. He’s abnormal.

And yet, to Levi, this man is beautiful. Gorgeous even. And then some.

Eren’s pulse is speeding up under Levi’s touch, making him think silly things and dream against all odds. Eren’s body is pristine and warm, teaching Levi that time heals all wounds—at least the ones one can see—and that there is hope. The fury that has once dominated Eren’s features has abated, cooled down into a dangerous, unstable simmer that will never leave completely, and yet every time he holds Levi Eren’s hands are gentle and kind, even when the hunger between them boils over into a rough, all-consuming need.

They trace Levi’s ugly scars as if they were saying hello to a dear, old friend and when they come to rest against the nape of Levi’s neck the fingers begin to play with the stubbles of his undercut in caressing circles like it is everything they ever wanted to do.

When Eren looks at him his eyes are like a pair of gems that seem to have a direct link to Levi’s soul, unyielding, endearing, and enticing, gazing at Levi and laying him bare as if he was the answer to all of Eren’s hopes and dreams, the remedy for all his sorrows and tears, a guiding light through the darkest of times. Levi looks back and Eren holds him there, steady and unwavering, until Levi can feel the blush rising on his chest, his arms, his neck, his cheeks, and ears until the cool night begins to sting on his skin.

“Bastard,” he whispers, and Eren chuckles. Pokes Levi’s nose. Snuggles closer. Smiles. Fills the world with colours and ease.

His laugh is like the sun glistening on the ocean’s surface on that early spring day, fickle and warming, dancing and cheering, lively and vast, lifting and grounding at the same time, like listening to the water caressing the shore in affectionate waves and to the breeze whispering through the marram grass nearby whilst feeling the sand under his naked feet. It’s like seeing the open planes and birds for the first time, stunningly green and too much, yet never enough all at once.

Levi has seen a lot of strange things in his life, but the one laying right next to him in their bed must be the strangest of them all. A miracle.

And he understands.

Beauty isn’t really something you see or that you can measure like tea leaves for the perfect cup.

It’s something that can only be experienced in its entity, something so simple as blinking against the overpowering daylight after nothing but darkness and something so complicated as trying to count the stars up in the sky after being enclosed by clay and dirt for a whole lifetime.

He still doesn’t know what it is that makes Eren look at him like he does. But when Eren pulls him into his arms to hold him against his beating heart and kiss the top of his head, their legs intertwining and their bodies sharing that wonderful heat close-close-closer, he knows it’s Eren’s right to see more than the eyes let on, just as it is his own, and he won’t question it, just as Eren doesn’t in return.

Eren isn’t one to make false promises. Everything he is and does screams blatant honesty and commitment, and yet Levi expects with every passing day that Eren will change his mind eventually.

But this is Eren and the world will cease to exists when he stops loving like he does, with everything he’s got. As long as he’s let he’ll press his velvety smile against Levi’s frown, and pass a silent promise with sweet brushing of lips, meeting of tongues, and connection of something Levi hasn’t found a name for yet.

He seizes it nonetheless and wraps it around his heart, makes it his armour and his shield.

Even though he doesn’t know how long it will last he at least has this and the knowledge that once someone chose him and thought him perfect in all his flaws.

He looks into these too sparkling eyes and smiles, letting himself fall as they begin to count the stars.


AO3 Link.

anonymous asked:

Oh please write Sansa telling Jon more about how different he is than Joffrey!!

\(^o^)/\(^o^)/ *.*.* \(^o^)/


The solar was quiet so late into the evening. The light from the fire cast Jon in warm amber light. It was these moments Sansa cherished most. The calmness before the storm, the slow burn of wine running through her veins, and the way his skin looked golden here. It was not the first time she had thought impure thoughts about Jon, and if her blood was not soaked with wine, she may have felt the familiar wash of shame and guilt come upon her; but not tonight. Under the winter’s moon, Sansa saw a man, so weathered by hardships, so burdened by responsibilities and yet so beautiful by the fullness of his heart. She saw only a king, who was gentle, brave and honourable. 

“Your hair,” Sansa said, lips pressed to the rim of her goblet as the crimson liquid eased down her throat. 

Jon looked up from where he sat by the hearth, Ghost’s head on his lap. “What?” 

“Your hair looks as black as the night,” she continued, unaware of the slight slurring of her words. “And his was lighter than the sun. So different.”

“Sansa…” 

“And your eyes. His eyes were like the sea, green with moss and algae, but yours – they are like a winter’s storm.” She couldn’t stop now that she had begun. She needed him to see what he refused to acknowledge about himself. Oh, he was always so stubborn. Sansa chuckled abruptly, shaking her head. “He was like a twig compared to you, Jon. He was small and built for nothing, but yours.” She suppressed a shudder, as her eyes raked over his body. “Even in your furs, anyone can see you are strong and capable. A real man, worthy of his title as the greatest swordsman in the land.”

“I am no such thing,” Jon said immediately. “I am only a man, mortal just like Joffrey.”

“Mayhaps,” she said firmly. “But you are ten times the man he ever was. You are the best person I have ever met, Jon Snow. And that is fact.” 

“Sansa, I believe you’ve had one too many tonight. We should retire.” 

“No!” She stood up on her feet and reveled in silent triumph when she found herself steady enough to stand. “You have to understand and I’m not done. Sit down, Jon.” 

“I am,” he said, but there was a soft smile on his lips, so sweet and so devoted it scared her in a way she had never felt before. Sansa could dwell on it, dissect it and ruminate on why it was that someone she trusted so wholly, so irrevocably with her life and that of her kin could terrify her so, but now was not the time. He would soon leave her to fight a war she could not participate in and she must make him see himself the way she sees him. 

“Joffrey was a monster,” Sansa told him. She walked over to where he was and none-too-gracefully sat down beside him. Immediately her fingers carded through Ghost’s fur. He was so warm, so big and powerful; it made her ache for her gentle, graceful Lady. “He killed her. It was his fault.” 

“Who did he kill, Sansa?” Jon’s hand wrapped around one of hers and pulled it away from Ghost’s. He squeezed gently. 

“Lady,” she choked out, cursing the unbidden tears falling down her cheeks. “It was his fault, but I was so blind, so stupid and naive, I blamed Arya.” Her chest heaved, each breath an anguishing tear of her heart. “Jon, I don’t remember what I last said to our sister. What if I –” 

He pulled her into his arms, cradling her so her head would fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. She felt him kiss her hair. “Arya knows you love her. She does. Wherever she is, she will not doubt that.” 

“How do you know?” Sansa asked. “How can you know that?” 

“Because Arya loves us and she’ll find her way home to us one day.” 

Even she could hear the doubt in Jon’s words, but it was all they had to live on these days. Wherever Bran and Arya were, Sansa had to have hope. If she could find Jon, she could find them too. 

“Your heart,” she eventually said once she caught her breath. Sansa pulled back so she could better look at him. She placed her hand over his chest, feeling the speeding pulse of his heartbeat and finding hers matched his pace almost in perfect sync. “Joffrey had none, but you have so much.” His hand wrapped around where she had her hand. “And I fear it is your heart that will get you killed, Jon.” 

“But I have you,” he said, smiling fondly. “You said it yourself. I’m smarter with you by my side.” 

Sansa smiled in turn and shifted her body so she could lean her head against his shoulder. “So you are listening.” 

Jon wrapped his arm around her. “I may not right away and I may be stubborn about it, but I will always listen to you.”

“Good, then we may survive this yet.” 

Stormy Weather (M) – Jungkook

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Summary: You take up on Jungkook’s offer to meet him at the bonfire, but an incoming storm causes you to change your plans. A continuation of Shades, but can stand on it’s own

Word Count: 5.3k

Warning: Smut, oh lordie

A/N: This kinda got… out of hand… yeah.

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Someday- Percival Graves

Pairing: Percival Graves/OC

Request: “anonymous asked:
prompt: how about reader taking care of graves after a serious auror fight? no smut pls”

Warnings: None…just some fluff and good ol’ fashioned angst! xD

A/N: Ugh I really, really loved writing this one. I hope I managed to capture his character alright…it’ll get easier the more i do it. Just a side-note, I did make some things up for this just for the sake of the story. I have no idea how the laws work in the American wizarding world, but I made up some for the sake of the story, as well as some other slight magical elements that I wasn’t exactly sure of. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! 


I swayed slightly on my feet, bracing my hand against the nearest wall. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, waiting for the room to stop its tilting and the ground beneath my feet to steady. Apparating after a fight was always rough, as the adrenaline was slowly squeezed out of my bones and exhaustion seeped in to take its place.

“You alright?” a familiar voice asked.

My eyes fluttered open to see Dortman, a fellow auror, watching me with a scrutinizing expression. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead. He looked just as weary as I felt, like my limbs were weighed down with lead. Though perhaps that was what happened after fighting a losing battle. We hadn’t lost one in a while.

Which just reminded me that Grindelwald and his followers were becoming more and more dangerous by the second.

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I Don’t Want To (Bellamy Blake x reader)

@lachicadelamanzana requested:

Can you make 21with Bellamy of the 100? Both of you are a couple since the Ark. She gets really ill and Clarke tells him there is no hope, but he stays till the end?

21. “I’m not going anywhere”

-note: set in season one cause why not?-

-And also I have two alternate endings: Where the reader dies and one where she doesn’t-

Bellamy didn’t even think he could hate grounders more that he already did, but they were really testing him. 

When (Y/n) got back to the camp, Bellamy felt like he was back in the Ark, waiting for his mom to be floated. He was broken.

“Get Clarke,” Bellamy said sternly to Jasper, who complied immediately.

Finn carried (Y/n) back to camp, two arrows sticking out of her stomach. Bellamy had run to her side to bring her into his tent and shouted for her to stay awake, but the girl turned pale and her breaths became short and shallow.

Bellamy pushed up his sleeves and placed it firmly on one of the arrows. Clarke was taking too long. He was not going to sit back and watch the girl he loved die.

“Wait!” shouted Clarke, running to his side. “Don’t, you’ll increase the bleeding.” Clarke studied the physical signs, “She’s in shock.”

Bellamy bit his lip in frustration, but he stood down as Clarke started gathered clothed to try to stop the wound from bleeding. She observed the wound.

“Will she be okay?” Bellamy asked, his voice full of concern.

Clarke said nothing. She suddenly went weak.

“Will she be okay?” Bellamy repeated, louder this time.

Clarke was visibly shaking, and that terrified Bellamy. “If I told you the truth would you accept it?”

“Can you save her?” Bellamy said, his voice straining and barely audible.

“I can only try,” she said, “Now get out of here. I need to tend to her wounds.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bellamy said sternly.

“Bellamy-”

“Clarke, you don’t understand,” he said, sadness seeping into his voice, “We’ve been through so much together. I’m not leaving.”

Clarke hesitated, but she nodded nonetheless.

*

After a few hours, the arrows were successfully removed, but (Y/n) was not getting any better. Clarke struggled and struggled to improve her state but (Y/n)’s body was failing. She even had tears in her eyes. She was frustrated.

“I can’t,” Clarke said in a raspy voice, “She’s going to die in the count of hours. She’s already too far gone Bellamy, I’m sorry.”

Hearing this, Bellamy felt like he lost everything. He just can’t lose her.

“Bellamy,” Clarke said, choking on the sadness of the lost of her friend, “Say your goodbye.”

“I don’t want to.” For the first time in years, Bellamy cried. He was sobbing, silently begging for (Y/n)’s pulse speed up. The pulse were still there, a faint, slow but steady beat, and Bellamy held on to it as it his life depended on it.t

Clarke got out of the tent to call the others to say their farewells. Each of them quietly whispered nice things to her, even though she couldn’t quite hear them. Octavia was the last one in the tent with him. She tugs on her brother’s arm to urge him out of the tent, but he won’t even flinch.

She eventually gave up and gave them privacy.

Bellamy’s fingers stayed against (Y/n)’s wrists. The pulse was still there, thankfully.

“(Y/n),” Bellamy called, hoping she would answer, but of course she didn’t, “I love you.”

He wanted to say more. To say how much he misses her, how much he wants to hold her, but (Y/n) understands so much just by a simple I love you.

And Bellamy fell asleep against her shoulder, the last of (Y/n)’s pulse tapping against his fingers as she withdrew her last breath.

Alternate ending:

And Bellamy fell asleep against her shoulder, still feeling her pulse. When he woke up, he was overcome with joy that he was looking into familiar set of eyes, alive and well.

“I knew you could make it.”

-

PROMPTS

anonymous asked:

Hello, if it's alright can I request a loki x RC fic where RC has feelings for Loki but won't tell him. But then Loki notices her heart racing when she is around him, so he starts flirting with her more and eventually gets her to admit her feelings. Thanks so much my lovely 😘

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Fandom: MCU
Warnings: language

A/N: hello darling! thank you so much for this request! I was going down the smut road, but then decided against it, so this is sfw for once lol. 

                                                           *****

You were currently making tea in the kitchen of the Avengers compound. The day had been long and you just wanted to have a steaming cup of tea and a book to relax a little, before heading to bed and sleeping for 12 hours straight.

Thankfully, most of the Avengers were asleep by now. Only a few were scattered around awake, watching TV or training downstairs, so you were enjoying the quiet right now.

“(Y/N), good evening. What are you doing up so late?”

So much for the quiet.

You didn’t turn around but knew who it was nevertheless.

“Just came back from a mission.”

“Ah, I understand.”

Once the tea was done, you turned around and almost dropped the cup.

There he was.

Loki of fucking Asgard.

But the thing that had your cheeks all red, was the fact that he was only wearing a towel around his waist, his hair sleeked back since it was still wet.

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Knock, knock

Originally posted by crouses

Knock, knock (Leon Draisaitl)

Description: Your roommate/best friend’s (Connor McDavid) teammates are usually so kind to you, most of them your friends. Except Leon. You had such a dislike for him, but you knew (and so did he) that he was gorgeous. One night, he walks in on you masturbating, and won’t leave it alone.

Warnings: Smutty smutty smut/cursing

Author’s Note: Okay, so here’s my first smut!! Please let me know if you like it, dislike it, what you want me to change etc. Give me feedback! Also I’m working on my Auston Matthews story right now. Keep an eye out for that ;) 


It was about 5:00pm, and you knew you had time before your roommate came home. Your roommate was the “100 million dollar man,” AKA captain of the Edmonton Oilers, Connor McDavid. You had been friends with McD for a few years now, and he offered for you to move in with him so you could be at the apartment during the off season. You loved living with Connor, except when some of his obnoxious teammates came over. The most obnoxious of them all, though, had to be Leon Draisaitl. He always knew just how to get under your skin without even trying.

He was SO gorgeous, though. And he knew it. Every time he complimented you, even if it was all a joke to him, you would think about it for days. He loved making you blush just to prove he had an affect on you. 5:13, okay there’s still time. You had been frustrated for a while, having broke up with your ex about 4 months ago. You just recently bought your first vibrator, and it was your new. best. friend. Sometimes you would think about Leon while getting off, though you’d never admit that to anyone. Not even Connor.

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