quiet the steady

i want love that’s warm and sickeningly sweet like honey… the kind that makes your insides all gooey and causes your heart to flutter uncomfortably and causes heat to blossom on your cheeks… but i also want the cool and calm kind of love, the love that’s quiet and steady and stable, where they make you feel like you’re coming home.

Call Me Daddy

Summary: Phil asks Dan what his kink is, but Dan doesn’t feel so inclined to tell him.

Word Count: 3.1k

Genre: smut (specifically: daddy kink smut oh man)

happy birthday @mangothatismelancholy !! i know im a few hours early but i won’t have much time to post it tomorrow morning ahaha. i hope you like this and i hope i remembered correctly that daddy kink was your favorite (?). also i hope you have a great birthday dude!!! 

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Auntie Bells

by reddit user Pippinacious

Auntie Bells wasn’t really my auntie, or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m not sure she even had any real family at all. It was just what everyone called her. She’d been a fixture in the neighborhood since long before I was born and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t at least know of her.

She was something of a living legend; a crazy cat lady type without the cats. It wasn’t unusual to look out your window in the dead of night and see Auntie Bells shuffling down the street, big walking stick clutched in one hand, her tameless hair shining white in the moonlight. And if you didn’t see her, you’d hear her. Auntie Bells took her name from the bracelets she wore on both wrists, strands of twine run through a countless number of tiny bells that tinkled with her every movement.

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How My Heart Reads Divide...

Decided to put all of my Ed Sheeran Divide feels/vibes/reviews in one post:

1)  Eraser is a song that left me openmouthed and a little emotionally confused. The lyrical sharpness was like glass and I felt like I kind of understood why Ed took a year off. It is white noise on edge anger simmering below the surface of a whiskey glass or behind a thin curtain of some other deadly vice that helps to numb the price of fame. It’s saying I’m fine but really rocking backwards and forwards within yourself on the floor in a mess of self doubt and regret and just…It’s raw honesty and pride and pretty lies that are more palatable than the harsh truths he delivers within the guise of a steely F64 stream of consciousness ‘what the hell am I doing’It’s heads in hands and excess and the reality of dreams that were born from records and roadtrips and wondering how on earth you ended up here. It’s a little jaded but it’s also a red flag, the moments in life when your brain is steadily inching towards danger but is perhaps able to prevent itself from falling at the last second. It’s realising that perfection is not attainable and that everyone has scars but it’s also about learning to dance with the skeletons in your closet and beating a path for yourself no matter what.

2) Castle On The Hill  sounds like its roots were tended by U2. It’s watching the sun rise from rooftops and rolling down hills. It’s playfights between couples where you laugh so hard you cry. It’s nostalgia and records and country lanes and cars and dancing in the rain. It’s holding hands and walking through villages where you know everyone by name.  It’s cups of tea, nicknames and muddy English football matches. It’s board games and Sunday roasts and long kisses, leaning against brick walls. It’s radiant smiles and having a song and banter between friends. It’s falling in love hard and wholly where everything is like a film reel from a 50′s movie. It’s feeling infinite and having mates and loves who are forever. 

3) Dive - I’m getting really big Stevie Wonder vibes. It’s bluesy with the hooked teeth of a guitar straight into your heart. It’s ragged desperate heartbreak and knowing you feel the stirrings of a person entering your inner world but being scared to jump over the cliff with them. It’s looking into their eyes after the beginnings of something that makes your heart race and saying “dammit I need to know you’re not going to break my heart.”

4) Shape Of You is all first dates and burning liquor and laughs in a crowded bar. It’s stumbling home through wet streets and slow dancing in the doorway. It’s hands in hair and running from a restaurant because you couldn’t pay. It’s watching the breaths of a lover in the dawn. It’s counting the freckles that adorn their stomach and back. It’s lingerie and home cooked meals and Netflix marathons and lazy Sundays when you realise you’ve fallen a little too far so all that you can do is keep falling hard.

5) Perfect is first dances and falling hard. It’s buying a ring because you look over one day and you think “If you walked away, my heart wouldn’t survive. I want to love you for every moment that I’m still alive (I’m writing this through a haze of emotion because this sums up every hope and dream I’ve ever had of the person who’ll love me despite all my hard stuff - wheelchair/anxiety/depression) This song is… true love. I’m going to go ahead and say that I think it’s true that that it’s better than Thinking Out Loud…)

6) Galway Girl is Irish af. I like to think of it as a flashback to the beginning of the Perfect ^^^ love story. It’s catchy and makes me want to do a jig. It reminds me of my parents and my aunties and cousins and uncles and sisters. It’s a clan song. It’s a chance meeting and having pieces fall into place from the very first day. 

7) Happier - AARGH. This is every feeling ever when the person you love even if only from afar seems happier with someone that isn’t you and you know you could do a better job but they might never look your way… I’ll be here, waiting always. 

8) New Man is a bit of 90′s R & B vibes. It’s a hip hop infused ode for what happens when the person who was a part of your heart comes running to you when a new relationship starts. It’s watching them change in front of your eyes for other guys (or girls) and it’s realising you don’t know who a person is anymore. It’s waves of history breaking upon a foreign shore. It’s losing maps to people you thought you knew like the back of your hand… It’s realising that they still want you in a way but it’s too late. 

9) Hearts Don’t Break Around Here is “Yes I’m in love and I want to shout from the rooftops.” It’s the little moments of a couple’s relationship. It’s realising that you’ll look to every day of growing old and the love story you get to live. All I can say is Jesus Christ Cherry, he loves you and it makes me so happy ❤️

10) What Do I Know is Ed’s way of saying Shit maybe they were right… that I saved 2017. He is bringing us all together, a crowd of colours and lives and lover types. No matter who you are, there’s a story on this album for you… It’s a carelessly casual man looking in, saying Fuck you, your walls will never keep us out. We’ll be screaming the words to this music, united and proud. 

11)  How Would You Feel is all butterflies and pure intoxicating love. It’s a girl wearing her boyfriend’s shirt and regular good morning texts. The soft secretive kisses in a car and casually intimate caresses. It’s meeting the family for the first time and imagining one of your own. It’s looking at a person off guard, saying “I love you” and feeling like that person’s your home.

12) Supermarket Flowers is about Ed’s maternal grandmother and it’s making me think of Nana who joined the angels three years ago and… 😭 I miss you so much. I hope you’d be proud of us x.

13) Barcelona is  dancing it out with people who share your heart. It’s Spanish carnival Latin vibes. It makes me think of  girls in deep red skirts and men with roses between their teeth. It’s music in your blood and floating away when you dance. It’s the magic moments of a party where you feel like moments could last forever. Who wants to meet me in Barcelona 😜

14) Bibia Be Ye Ye gives me immediate carnival vibes. It’s infused with the melodies of Africa so I can only assume this was his Ghana project. It’s nights of madness and vibrant colours and familiar strangers who dance on tables and offer you liquor. It’s the feeling I get every time I go to a concert or to a new country, the ideas of exploration and self discovery and stories that will make you ache with laughter years later as you look back on the Polaroids. 

15) Nancy Mulligan with its fiddles and it’s heart of true Irish blood makes me feel like I’m sitting at an impromptu gathering of musicians around my granny’s fire back home in Galway. It’s sepia photographs and wild cliffs and grandparents whose eyes shine with the fires of their youth as they tell you this story. It’s emerald hills and words in an ancient tongue. It’s a more modern Romeo & Juliet. It’s knowing that love transcends everything and you can have anything if you just have love.

 16) Save Yourself  has me gasping for air, my heart broken.
This song is all helping others only to have them treat you like you’re less than the dirt on their shoe. It has me thinking of savage wolves who want to tear you down but still expect you to smile. It’s despair and anxiety and depression with the quiet steady voice of strength that somehow by the tiniest of miracles keeps getting back up. It’s knowing you need to save yourself by loving all the broken parts of you but not really being sure how to do it.

OH MY GOD THIS RECORD IS SHEER BRILLIANCE. I hope you love my review (Sorry it’s so long!!!)

RFA+S’s ideal MCs

I have this headcanon that each RFA member has a specific kind of MC.

Not like how MC4 is Yoosung’s or MC2 is Zen’s.  That gives me the heebie-jeebies.  (It’s just their faces!  You know nothing about the girl behind the face!  Pairing one of the RFA members with a profile pic makes no sense, to me…it’s literally judging them by their appearance.)

I mean like how they each have a type, and depending on what route you’re on, your responses are different.  (Minor spoilers ahead!)

For example:  Jaehee’s MC would never get a good ending if she were on Jumin’s route.  She too assertive.  Too independ.  No go.

Saeyoung’s MC would never truly be happy with Zen.  Zen’s kind of square.  And MC is too quirky.  It wouldn’t last.

Jumin’s MC would get run over by Yoosung insisting that she’s “like Rika.”  Yoosung wouldn’t be able to read her like Jumin could.  And she would just go along with what Yoosung says, because she wants him to be happy.

Zen’s MC on Jaehee’s route is Jaehee’s first bad ending.  #truestory

So, my headcanons on what each RFA member’s “ideal MC” is like!

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Essays in Existentialism: Valentine’s Day

With Valentine’s day coming up, how about a themed Clarke and Lexa story?

The hospital swirled with the quiet steady of patients and doctors, all taking their time getting anywhere at all. Nurses stations filled with deliveries of bouquets and cards and chocolates, while the halls were littered with cardboard hearts and babies with little wings and bows. Reds and pinks of every shade and color turned the fifth floor into a haven of sappiness and commercial love.

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After Evan “falls” from the tree he is found by two boys, one who’s obsessed with everything 90s and one who’s plan to be popular nearly caused a computer based apocalypse. They kind of freak out at first, I mean who wouldn’t they just saw a kid fall out of a tree and probably die right in front of them, but end up calling an ambulance to take Evan to the hospital (Michael nearly gets into a fist fight with one of the paramedics in order to allow both him and Jeremy to ride with them to the hospital). Evan ends up with a concussion, some serious bruising, and a broken arm.
The boys don’t leave his side except to get some snacks, and even then only one of them would leave the room at a time. They insist on chatting with Evan, who’s a bit overwhelmed honestly, but they don’t seem to mind his one word answers or even his slightly longer stuttered responses so he goes along with it. Long after Evan is officially released the boys are still sitting together and talking about anything from video games to books to school to parents, as they wait for Evan’s mom and Jeremy’s dad to show up. Once both parents arrive (and they do wait for both to make an appearance because none of them wanted to leave each other so quickly) Michael and Jeremy insist on not only giving Evan both their phone numbers but also on signing his cast. They sign the inside portion of his cast, Michael in big swoopy letters and Jeremy with his chicken scratch hand writing, because Michael states (in an over exaggerated tone) that the inner portion is obviously the best place to sign because it’s closer to the heart. Jeremy tells him that’s really gay but he signs the cast with a smile on his face.
About two days after Evan gets home he finally pushes down his anxiety enough to shoot off a simple ‘hi’ to one of the boys. Almost immediately afterwards they set up a group chat and start blowing up Evan’s phone with corny jokes and puns, and Evan can’t stop smiling. Even though Evan usually doesn’t participate much in the group chat, Michael and Jeremy don’t care, they relish in every small sentence (“HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING MORE THAN TWO WORDS JEREMY!”) that they receive from Evan. They become the best of friends over the rest of the summer and even meet up once or twice at at a little park almost right between their two towns. Michael starts talking about his insecurities, Jeremy opens up about what had happened his previous year (changing up the story a bit to exclude the SQUIP), and Evan even tells them about the letters he’s supposed to be writing for his therapist (they had found out about Evan’s severe anxiety after they had to coach him through a panic attack during one of their visits to the park).
And then school comes around, but Evan’s a little less stressed because now he has Michael and Jeremy, and everything is set in motion. Even still gets teased by Jared (“What are you, an acorn?”), and still gets pushed by Connor (“What are you laughing at?!”), and still talks with Zoe (“You apologize a lot.”), and still gets his letter stolen (“Is this yours?”). But this time he doesn’t call Jared. Instead he calls Michael or Jeremy or maybe both because they’re always together nowadays. And Evan is freaking out because Connor has taken his letter, his letter that’s for his appointment, his letter that’s full of material for Connor (though he doesn’t think Connor would, he’s not sure why he just doesn’t) or someone else to make fun of him with. He had talked about that morning, about Connor (vaguely of course but it was still there). And he had written about, not Zoe, but Michael and Jeremy and how they were his only real friends. And isn’t that just pathetic. And he’s spilling all of this to these boys he just met a month or so ago. And he thinks he might be crying he’s not sure. But he’s definitely having trouble breathing and Michael and Jeremy are doing their best to calm him down (“Evan, just breathe, you’re gonna be fine.” “Take it slow, just take your time.”) but it’s kind of difficult to do over the phone. Eventually they calm him down and are able to get the full story out of him, or the important bits anyway because Evan is speaking so fast they’re wondering if he’s even breathing at all. They all brainstorm ideas on how to get the letter back (“Maybe you can seduce him with your tree knowledge.” “MICHAEL NO.”) and eventually they come with what they think is a full proof plan.
1. Maybe they tell Evan to go to the Murphy’s and talk to Connor. So he goes and he’s honestly terrified, not entirely because of Connor but also because Zoe is going to be there and also their parents and what if they think he’s weird or crazy and they don’t let him in and he can’t get the letter and he can’t take it to his appointment and he can’t he can’t he can’t- But he goes anyway. And stands out on the sidewalk for a solid ten minutes. He finally builds up the courage to knock on the door and someone answers (maybe Zoe or Mrs.Murphy) but they let him inside and tell him where Connor’s room is and then there’s another door he has to knock on. So he does and Connor opens it with the scariest (or maybe the saddest) look that Evan has ever seen. But he’s on a mission so he stutters out his request which might sound like gibberish but Connor seems to get the gist of it because he’s glaring at Evan like he was in the library, and Evan’s kind of scared again. Connor only speaks one word (“Why?!”) but it has Evan flinching all the same and stuttering even more, but he manages to get his answer out. But once he starts, he can’t stop and suddenly he’s spilling out everything; how bad his anxiety is, how nerve wracking his appointments are, how horrible school is, and how absolutely terrible his life is. And by the time he’s realized what he’s saying, Connor’s glare has lessened and he’s got this strange look on his face (pity?). But he doesn’t say anything, he just sighs and goes to get Evan’s letter. He expects Evan to just leave afterwards and honestly so does Evan. But he doesn’t. Instead he stays, standing in the doorway for a moment, before cautiously walking inside. He manages to push out a question (“Are you okay?”), his voice quiet but steady for once in his life. He’s not really sure why, though. Maybe he had seen something in the dark, blank room that resonated with him. Or maybe it was that look on Connor’s face, the look that, for once, wasn’t an angry one. But it didn’t matter. Because the look vanished in an instant, morphing into something even more vulnerable the second the question was asked. And maybe Connor saw something in Evan as well, something that made him trust the anxious boy, because then he was just talking. They talked for what seemed like hours but was probably only thirty minutes, before Evan had to go home. Connor scribbles down his phone number on a post-it note, or maybe Evan’s cast, and they part ways. Evan sees Connor at school the next day, and even the next, and they keep talking. And maybe he introduces him to Jeremy and Michael, and now Connor has a total of three (THREE?!) friends. They add Connor to the group chat, and sometimes they’ll even drag him to the park(or the apple orchard that he talked about sometimes). The more they hang out the more they start to trust each other and start opening up. Connor tells them about how he sometimes wants to die, Evan tells them the truth about the tree, and Michael and Jeremy even talk about the SQUIP. And they’re happy. But of course it doesn’t cure Connor’s depression or anything else. It doesn’t cure Evan’s anxiety, or Michael’s insecurity, or Jeremy’s nightmares. But it’s nice. Nice to actually be able to speak about their problems. Nice to have somebody to confide in. Nice to just…talk. And that’s what they do. They just talk…..and maybe even take in the view.
2. Or maybe they tell Evan to just wait. To wait until the next day. To wait to talk to Connor. So he does. But Connor doesn’t show. So Evan waits again till the next day, but Connor’s still not there. By the third day Evan’s a bit concerned, even more so when he’s called down to office. He meets Connor’s parents and they tell him that’s Connor killed himself and he’s….numb. He’s not sure what to think, but he keeps listening. They (mostly Mrs.Murphy) talk about Connor and the “incident” (they say it like Connor’s death was some sort of an accident), and Evan wonders why he’s even there. Why they chose to talk to him about this. And then they bring up the note. A note which is apparently addressed to him. A note which looks familiar to him. And then the numbness is gone. Replaced by the usual anxiety. Because they think that that letter, his letter, is Connor’s suicide note. And he wants to explain. Wants to say something. Wants to tell them the truth. But he can’t. He can’t speak, he can’t get the words out. So when they ask him to join them for dinner he just nods. And they leave, satisfied. And he leaves, shaking. He waits till school ends (because he may have skipped the rest of the day but that doesn’t mean he wants Jeremy and Michael to), and he called them. He’s a bit more calm this time, but maybe that’s just the lingering numbness. He tells them about Connor, about Connor’s parents, about his note. There’s silence for a moment, and then Jeremy and Michael are asking question and bouncing ideas off each other so fluently that Evan is suddenly reminded how long they’ve known each other. Eventually they stop and they’ve both agreed that Evan must tell the truth. But Evan’s not sure how he can do that, he couldn’t even say one word to them the first time so how is he supposed to do that. So maybe they decide one of them will go with Evan to the Murphy’s (and of course they choose Michael because, “I’m obviously the better talker between the three of us, JEREMY.”) to help explain the situation. So they do and it goes pretty smoothly, and they’re honestly a bit surprised by how easy it was. But Evan still feels like shit because these people had thought they had a final connection to they’re son/brother (though he can tell Zoe’s not as heartbroken) and it turned out it was just some other depressed kid with some serious issues. And he tells this to Michael and Jeremy and they think maybe they can put together something for Connor? Something for people to remember him. But they’re not really sure what, so Evan suggests they ask someone, maybe Jared and Alana, or Christine (♪Christine Canigula♪). And Jeremy and Michael agree so they call them up. And suddenly they’re all working on this thing (they think they should probably give it a name) for Connor, to remember him and to reach out to others who feel alone. And Evan still does his speech, and Michael and Jeremy are so proud. And suddenly they’re helping so many people. They’re sending emails and texts and calling and video chatting to all these kids, and adults, who feel like Connor did, who feel like Evan still does sometimes. And it’s great. Because people are being found just like Evan was found and he’s so happy that he could help do this for people.

Title: Teeny Bopper Date Bait (Reader x Peter Parker)

Summary: The reader and Peter are used for observation purposes on a fake date, one that Natasha and Tony secretly hope will become real.

Word Count: 1964

A/N: This request was so much fun + I tried to make it a little different and i really like it. I hope you enjoy! 

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i grew up in a broken home. a home that never felt like home. a house where the walls never stopped trembling and my hands never stopped shaking. i sleep in a bed with tear stains on it because i just cannot keep myself sane at night. so mom, dont get me wrong when i tell you how badly i want to leave. i want a house where the walls are quiet and my hands are steady, my bed is clean and i spend my nights sleeping. dont get me wrong when i say that i want to leave. i just want to be okay. and i have to start looking for my happiness in other places because i wont find it here mom, the walls are still trembling and my hands are still shaking.

What More Can I Do? (Newt Imagine)

Hey guys! So just an F.Y.I. this is a totally random rambling of an imagine. I just needed to get some shtuff out while writing it loll. But I thought I would post it for fun :) Hopefully I can offer it as some enjoyment to you guys!

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Queenie called as she excused herself from Jacob’s side and followed you out the door of the small speakeasy. You tried to walk as quickly as you could, but the crowds of people were drowning. You could hardly find an empty opening to walk through as you pushed through women in beaded dresses and drunken men who yelled and hollered, whistling at you as you pushed past them towards the exit.

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nowforruin  asked:


A/N: This kept wanting to go angsty and depressing, so I’m pretty happy that it didn’t do that. Because fuck hormones.

Summary: Killian and Emma work at a luxury theater and he sets up a little surprise to cheer her up.

It’s no great secret that Emma’s favorite drink in the whole world is hot chocolate with cinnamon on top. She has had this drink somewhere in the thousands of times over the course of her life, and she never thought she would be chased away from it, but night after night of cleaning up the trash from the movie theater’s large bins has stopped her love in its tracks. The smell of hot chocolate mixed with beer and wine has soured her stomach so bad that she’s not sure if she can ever drink her favorite concoction ever again. Her face must give away her thoughts, because Killian is across from her in an instant, helping to lift the over-filled plastic liner from the can.

“I’ve got this, Swan. You’re free to tend to the sweeping if you’d prefer.”

She doesn’t really prefer, but it’s the lesser of two evils, so she grabs the broom and dustpan and gets to work sweeping up discarded wrappers, dropped popcorn, and forgotten candy from between and around each section of seating.

It’s been two years, eight months, and five days since she started working at the Storybrooke Luxury Theater. It’s the only one in the area that sells booze and dinner, that offers plush armchairs in the middle of the moderately-sized theater, beds in the front, and couches in the back. It’s been two years, eight months, and four days since she met Killian Jones, a fellow usher and waiter. His brother owns and manages the theater, but Killian chooses to work the screenings instead of behind a desk, claiming something about it offering him a better quality of life.

Like clockwork, Emma can hear him start humming some tune or another, marking his progress through the trash bins at the entrance of the theater, and she gets lost in the quiet song and the steady work. She knows it’s almost midnight, but time is almost irrelevant to her when she has nothing she’s returning home to. The only one she really cares to see when she’s not working is the person she gets to work with most often, so it’s a win-win situation that Killian is by her side through all of this.

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anonymous asked:

In the Henry universe, how does Scully react when Mulder finds someone else?

She’s sorting lunch components for the twins into plastic bins in the refrigerator; bags of chips and carrot sticks and foil-wrapped triangles of pizza. Her phone rings as she picks up a webbed bag of clementines.

“Hey,” Mulder says, his voice a warm pulse.

Scully lets the oranges slump back onto the counter. “Hey.”

“I’m, uh, I’m headed up to New York to talk to my publisher this afternoon,” he tells her.

She can hear the noisy old dishwasher going in the background, imagines Mulder fidgeting at the kitchen table. There’s a chair with a wobbly leg he likes to rock in. “They still talking about the miniseries?”


Scully chews her lip, considering. She tucks the phone against her shoulder. “That’s not why you called, though.”

A long pause. “No.”

“Okay.” She shuts the fridge and begins assembling sandwiches on the counter. Teasing information from Mulder can take a quiet, steady patience.

“I met someone,” he says at last.

Scully sets the knife down, knuckling the cool granite. “Did you?”

“I just, you know, I wanted to call you. You were very open about Henry so I thought I should extend you the same courtesy.” In the background, the squeak of the chair leg.

“Mulder, that’s great. I’m happy to hear it.” She is, she is, she doesn’t want him alone.

He coughs. “Thanks. Um, well, I guess that’s it, really. I should go pack.”

“No!” she exclaims. “Mulder, I need some detail.” As a friend. As a concerned friend who is wary of his general taste for women who will betray him.

“Oh, Scully, you don’t have t-“

“Really, I do. Let’s have the 411.” She hopes she sounds casually interested, and begins spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread.

Mulder guffaws. “The 411? Scully, let me tell you about the internet.”

She blushes, waves her hand. “Whatever. Details, something.”


Scully imagines him pacing now, tossing and catching an invisible baseball. “You know, it’s okay, I don’t want to pressure you.”

“No, hey, I’m sorry. Just trying to generate a quick dossier. Uh, well, her name is Elizabeth. She works for the EPA, coastal ecology.”

“Science nerd, huh?” she says, and immediately wishes she hadn’t. She swallows, stabs a spoon into the jam jar.

“Yeah,” Mulder says. “She does something with zebra mussels and ship ballast water that I need to brush up on.”

“Probably invasive species in coastal communities. I’ll give you a crash course if you like.” She picks up the sandwich to tuck into a plastic bag.

‘It’s okay. I’ll Google it; you remember that internet thing I mentioned before. It’s got lots of stuff on it.”

She is stung, and words sticks in her throat like lumpy oatmeal. “Oh,” she manages. “Okay, then.”

Mulder coughs again. “I just figured you’re pretty busy, with work and the kids and everything.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.” She toys with the jam jar, rolling it in her hands. It is cool against her palms “Well, you know, enjoy your research. Look up copepods too.”

“I will.”

Seconds tick by on the kitchen clock.

“When’s the second book out?” Scully asks. She picks up the sandwich, zipping and unzipping the plastic bag.

“Around Thanksgiving, I think. You want an advance copy? I’ll sign it for you.”

She laughs. “No, don’t give them away. I want to buy it, boost your sales.”

“In that case, stock up and send them out with the Christmas cards. Even mine.”

“I’ll pre-order on the….what did you call it? The in-ter-net?”

Mulder chuckles. “Have them shipped right to your house, or take your velocipede down to the book-seller to fetch them.”



A lengthy pause, but they don’t hang up.

Scully finds that the sandwich in her hand has been wadded into a dense ball, peanut butter and jam squeezed all over the inside of the bag. She hastily shoves it into the trash can. “Mulder, um, when you get back in town, why don’t you give me a call? We’d love to have dinner with you and Elizabeth.” She says it so smoothly she believes it.

“Oh,” he says. “That sounds nice, that sounds really good. Yeah.”

“Okay.” She squeezes her eyes closed, her stomach sour.

Mulder breathes for a long moment. Then he says, “Well, hey. I’ve got to get going, but thanks for listening. I know how busy you are.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Sure.” She holds back this time, doesn’t say she always has time for him.

An empty silence now, the call disconnected.

Scully sits on a bar stool, hands clasped beneath her chin, elbows on the breakfast bar. She sees the absurd expectation she’s held onto, the cruelty of it. Mulder like a sundial in the garden of her life, static and reliable as she moves through the seasons around him. Ticking off her hours as she spends them.

Scully goes to the sink and slaps cold water on her face. She sees Elizabeth in her mind’s eye. Lanky and brunette, of course. Long legs and khaki shorts, probably lots of trips to REI. She assigns her a sporty dog too. Maybe with a bandanna.

She says a prayer for his happiness, and leaves it to God to sort out what exactly she means by the idea.

Yours - A Remus Lupin Imagine

A/N: It’s the return of the smut!!!! Tbh this isn’t great…obviously I’m a little rusty (but to be fair I have no experience so I don’t really know what I’m doing anyway). Anyway…I’m clearly going to hell…see you fuckers there! 

Please may I request Remus x reader ft daddy kink thanks xx

Originally posted by nellaey

The days leading up to the full moon altered Remus Lupin. To the everyday passer-by, to the majority of his classmates, he seemed simply stressed out. On edge. But to those who knew him best, to those who knew his darkest secret, they knew it was an entirely different beast. Something far worse than anxiety over upcoming tests. He was, more or less, transforming into someone else. Something else. All it took to set him off was one less than pleasant interaction. 

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headcanon: m’gann is the reason the alien bar is flourishing again. they opened again soon after the attack but the community was too fractured, people too scared. then m’gann returns. she doesn’t give some grand, inspiring speech about survival, but she’s kind, and she’s genuine, and she listens. she knows all the regulars, knew all the victims, and she’s always there with a smile and an ear for anyone that needs it. word starts to get around that she’s back and more of the regulars start to return. it’s not that she can protect them, really, but they just feel safer with her around. and with her presence, with her quiet steadiness and steal, the place starts to feel a little bit more like home again. quietly, she organises little events: a memorial to give the survivors the space to grieve and remember, happy hours to encourage people to return, darts and pool nights to start repairing and rebuilding their community. slowly, always from behind the scenes, she coaxes their little bar, their community, back to life.

It’s Too Cold (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request: 1. “Your hair is so soft..”

3. “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.”

+ this imagine was inspired this photo (aka the reason why I’m dead):

Warnings: None

Word Count: 802

A/N: Idk how to write for Tom Holland so this is for Peter. 

Y/N was hobbling in the streets, trying to get to her boyfriend’s house, Peter. The reason she was waking heavily and tripping every five seconds was because how exhausted she was; also the weather was freezing too. She had been studying for her final exams for three weeks and the projects were killing her. She was stressed than ever, not just because of the weight of the exams, but she was truly concerned about her future too.

Peter was no different, that was the reason why they planned on taking a day off, relaxing and finally spending alone time after weeks without mentioning homework.

She squeezed her hands more tightly in her pockets; her knuckles were probably redder than ever. All she wanted was a cup of hot chocolate and a warm blanket. She dreamt of spending the night at Peter’s cuddling and watching the movies they had watched more than twenty times already. Thinking of this heartwarming scene, she chuckled lightly and realized she had arrived at his apartment.

“Oh Y/N! I’m really glad that you arrived, Peter has been napping on his bed for hours now, I was pretty concerned!” Aunt May giggled, causing Y/N to smile widely. “The school had been killing us for weeks, I’m pretty sure that’s why he had been sleeping for so long,” she explained. Aunt May sighed, showing she was relieved. “I’m going to a friend’s house, will you be staying in tonight?” she asked while putting her coat on. “Probably, not decided yet,” Y/N replied while getting inside the house. “Okay, we have food in the fridge; you can have dinner too dear. See you later, bye!” Aunt May waved at her and left the house.

Y/N plodded towards to Peter’s room, taking off her coat and her scarf that was wet because of the snowstorm in the morning. She knocked on the door a few times then remembered he was sleeping and slowly opened the door, trying not to disturb him.

She closed the door and turned around to see the most stunning scene she had ever seen. Peter was sleeping peacefully, cuddling with his dog Tess, both covered with a comfy blanket. She examined his messy and fluffy hair, his red and soft cheeks and the circles under his eyes out of exhaustion. Y/N couldn’t decide which one was more adorable, she watched them in awe for minutes until she remembered how exhausted she was and how much she wanted to be in Tess’s place in that moment. She giggled quietly and stride to the bed.

Peter whined when he heard her footsteps and opened his eyes slowly. When he saw Y/N standing in front of him, he smirked and whispered: “For a second I thought I was dead and I was in heaven. Do you have any idea how angelic you look right now?” causing Y/N to blush and giggle.

“Will you please move I’m still freezing and I’m pretty jealous of Tess right now,” She pointed at Tess, who was still sleeping. Peter smirked at her and moved to the other side. “Come in angel.”

When Y/N was finally in the bed, Peter hugged her from behind, placing kisses to her neck sleepily. “Peter…” Y/N gasped at the sudden action which sent shivers down her spine, making her get closer to him. “What? I missed you…” He mumbled nuzzling into her neck this time. Both of their eyes’ were shut, enjoying the quiet and warm bodies of each other.

As much as Y/N wanted to sleep in that moment, she also didn’t want to waste the limited time she had with Peter so she turned around to face him. Peter seemed like he was sleeping but when he felt Y/N’s movement, he lazily opened his eyes. The sweet sound of downfall outside filling their ears with joy, Peter held Y/N’s hand, brushing it with his thumb softly. Y/N placed her spare hand into Peter’s hair, roaming it gently. “Mmm… Please keep doing that,” Peter gasped.

“Your hair is so soft…” Y/N whispered, trying to keep the peaceful quietness steady.

“I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy this whole situation but are we going to stay in bed the whole evening?” Y/N asked and shifted a bit, trying to get up.

“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” Peter whined and pulled her back to closer to himself. Y/N’s back was pressed onto his chest, his legs covering up her body, trying to keep her in bed. Y/N was too tired to fight back so she just simply nodded and stared outside the window, New York City lights were looking delightful and it was still raining. Peter wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck once again. Both slowly falling asleep.

oikuroo dynamic headcanons

people have already pointed out that with the way things are going in canon oikawa and kuroo are probably never going to meet but consider this

  • both of them have probably heard about each other at some point I mean they’re both captains of powerhouse schools
  • both of them basing their first opinions of each other on what they see on tv or in matches
  • kuroo: what the heck this pretty boy is so sparkly
  • oikawa: hmm… bedhead-chan
  • THEM MEETING SOMEWHERE (coughs college au)
  • they probably didn’t get along all that well at first 
  • I bet they sized each other up hella hard because honestly what do you expect when a provocation expert and master people-reader meet
  • in general just walking on thin ice around each other
  • they could actually understand each other on a level other people can’t since they’re both so good at understanding what makes people tick
  • pranking people together because they’re six feet tall and former volleyball captains what can’t they do
  • practicing volleyball TOGETHER
  • oikawa trying to set the ball in the best way to the spiker so that kuroo can’t block
  • kuroo can
  • both of them recognizing that they excel in different areas and admiring each other’s volleyball skills
  • studying together bc these two got good grades in high school and are probably studious people (kuroo was in a college prep class ya know)
  • kuroo with cats and oikawa with aliens on their boxers
  • their childhood best friends kenma and iwaizumi also getting along on a quiet, steady level
  • oikuroo has so much potential  

celestialbrnze  asked:

pidge is most likely slytherin

Mmmmm I LOVE Harry Potter aus and I’ve been seeing a lot of people post their hcs about everyone’s houses… And I agree with like none of them lol so let’s start some Discourse™. Shoutout to @dollygale I love u Mari <3 Write your fic soon okay I’m Dying Squirtle.

This’ll just be like… House headcanons ‘cause this post already turned out long as hell. I’ll post more headcanons later lol.

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Sun and Flame

“What is it you want, Elain?”

Lucien had been asking that silently to himself for months now, ever since he had returned from the Spring Court.  Came back to Velaris with his bones broken, magic gutted, and worst of all, his heart destroyed by Tamlin.  He had gone to explain, to make peace.  His former friend had never even given him a chance to say a word but had attacked on sight.  In the end, he had only survived thanks to the blue Siphon shield that had exploded out of the shadows when Tamlin went to make the killing blow.  Azriel had appeared and scooped Lucien up, face expressionless as he stared Tamlin down, then had winnowed them back to the City of Starlight.  When Lucien had asked him why he had saved him, the shadowsinger had only said, “For the Lady.”  Lucien never knew if he meant Feyre or Elain.

His body had healed, his magic had returned, but his heart… It was Cassian who had suggested that he begin helping Elain in her gardens, to help rebuild his strength and flexibility before he began the more grueling training with the Illyrians.  Lucien had shot him a suspicious look at the suggestion, but Cassian had shrugged, a crooked grin on his face, and told him he might as well make himself useful weeding and planting until he could play with the real warriors.  Elain herself had the good grace to only look mildly surprised when he appeared the first time, before gently directing him where he could help her most.  At first they had worked in silence, for days their only communication being polite exchanges while she taught him what to do but slowly they had developed a quiet banter.  She had a subtle sense of humor that shied away from the usual raunchy tone of the rest of the Court, but she enjoyed plays on words so he came up with as many as he could.  They talked about books, and plants, and commiserated about the rudeness of the Inner Circle.  Lucien still couldn’t get used to the irreverence with which they spoke to Rhys, and Elain found the whole lot of them - even her sisters - overwhelming.  Much to his surprise, the flowers grew nearly as well for him as they did for her.  When he joked that all his time at the Spring Court must have rubbed off, she looked at him in surprise and just shook her head, a secretive smile on her face.

He spent the first months wondering why the Cauldron had linked them.  In the past he had always been drawn to women of fire and spirit, those whose rapier wit and passion could match his blow for blow.  It was why Vassa had spoken to him immediately - she had felt like home.  This quiet steadiness was foreign to him, and he fumbled for the right words, the right tone.  She would still speak in riddles at times, but he now was able to draw out the meaning rather than despairing the madness.  Azriel was still working with her daily, training her powers, helping her gain control over the visions.  At first Lucien wondered if she would be better matched with the spymaster.  If she had wanted the Illyrian he would have stepped aside; he knew he didn’t deserve her.  For what he had done to Tamlin, he was more than willing to sacrifice his own peace.  But after months and months there seemed to be nothing like that between the two gentle souls.  Eventually he realized that she softened his edges, steadied his flame, while he brightened her shadows.  Rather than falling into the same pattern, they were counterpoints to each other but with one strong similarity: both had lost the person who mattered most to them, the person they thought would always see them.  Grayson had spat on her for being Fae, and Tamlin…his comrade-in-arms, his brother in all but blood, could not forgive him for leaving.

The bond between them was still dark.  She had been so terrified when he first tugged on it that he hadn’t dared do it again.  He could still sense it, though, and that was what drew him to the rooftop garden.  The townhouse was empty as he climbed the stairs.  Elain was standing near her favorite bed of sunflowers, facing the sun.  He knew she heard him, but she stayed quiet as he approached.  She had fallen again into the sadness she was still susceptible to, but he could taste a bit of shame as well, either through the dark bond or in the air.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not supposed to feel this,” she said.

“Feel what?”

“The wanting.  I’m not supposed to want…It’s not right.  I have no right to want it.”  He couldn’t see her face, her expression.  Couldn’t tell if she had fallen into one of her vague spells or if she was finally speaking her mind.

He was relieved he was able to keep his voice even as he asked, “What is it you want, Elain?”

She half turned to him.  The gold flecks in her brown eyes gleamed as the side-light from the sun hit them.  “I want the sun,” she said.  “I’m so cold, deep inside.  I want the sun.”

“You have the sun,” he said, carefully, with a small gesture of his hand to the sky over her shoulder.

She shook her head as she squared up to him and put her hand on his chest.  “I want the sun.”

He realized what she was trying to say.  “I’m not the sun, Lady,” he said gently.  “I’m just a single destroying flame.”

“No.  You are the sun that warms the earth and chases away the shadows, and you are the flame that cleanses and forges.  You are all of it.”  He shook his head sadly, and she reached up to touch his cheek.  “You don’t see it, you don’t realize it.  You’ve been living without the whole truth.”

They had never been this close to each other.  He held her gaze for a long minute before he bent his head to her, their lips nearly touching.  “I am the sun?”  She nodded, her breath hitching just a little, and he brushed his lips gently against hers.  Once, then twice.  Giving her a chance to pull back, to shy away.  Instead she stepped in closer, face still upturned, and he kissed her more fully.  As her mouth opened for him, he began to feel it.  Deep within him, not the flame he was used to dancing through his blood, but a much brighter ball of power, beginning where the bond was anchored.  A place that had always felt empty, bleak.  It began to glow, and the bond itself lightened until he could feel it all the way to her core.  Until he could feel her soul opening in response like the flowers she so loved.  Absorbing his warmth and returning it with beauty and color and joy.  He pulled back gently from the kiss, cupping her cheek in his hand and meeting her eyes.  

“Then I am yours.”


I’ve never written a fanfic before so constructive criticism is appreciated!