right in the entryway

The sound of the door slamming doesn’t quite echo, but it sounds enhanced somehow, like the emptiness of the place makes it louder. Nursey knows it’s a big space, but it looks huge without anything in it.

It’s a little scary, at first. It seemed a lot more manageable when it was staged and full of furniture. This, though, this is different. This big, empty house.

Home, he corrects himself. This big, empty home

Their big, empty home.

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You Make Me Better

BASED ON THIS POST by @bleebug and subsequent comments from @thesschesthair and @seethelovelyintheworld Thanks ladies for this inspirational prompt, I had a great time writing this.  Thanks to @laschatzi and @xhookswenchx for read through and beta services!

Also on ao3 and ffnet

CS Neighbors AU where Emma is a nurse and Killian is her definitely-faking-it hypochondriac neighbor who uses illnesses and injuries as an excuse to talk to her.


Emma had just put her dinner together and sat down on her couch with a nice glass of red wine, and Netflix ready to go. The upside to working in a small private practice was for the first time since attending college, Emma Swan had a somewhat normal schedule. It allowed her peaceful evenings to herself to do what she pleased. Tonight she’d been home from another long day for a mere half an hour and was beyond ready to relax.


“I should have turned off the goddamn lights,” she muttered.

“Swaaaan!” the interloper persisted, pounding on her door again.

The downside meant a certain pesky neighbor soliciting free medical advice on the regular. Rolling her eyes, she put the television remote and her glass of wine on the coffee table, knowing he wasn’t going to let up.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t be neighborly, but Killian Jones was a menace. The man was a hypochondriac of the worst kind - a fake hypochondriac - some new illness ailing him weekly. She flung her door open just as he was poised to knock again. The breeze it caused carried in his scent, and Emma was olfactorily assaulted by just one of the real reasons Killian Jones drove her crazy.  The next havoc he wreaked on her was the sight waiting before her. Killian Jones, shirtless… again, gingerly propped up against the frame of her door. Last time he’d shown up shirtless he’d insisted that a tiny mosquito bite on his back was a case of the shingles. She wondered if his shirtless visits were nothing more than a chance for him to flaunt his altogether delicious chest: just the right amount of definition and muscle covered by taut skin that pulled as he gesticulated his every word, all overlaid with beautiful black chest hair that descended into a thin trail disappearing under the waistband of his pajama pants.

“Swan, thank the gods you’re here, lass. I need medical assistance.”

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Kimi ni Todoke Chapter 117 Translation

Thank you @rosemask22 for posting images from the chapter! 

Once again, I’m not fluent, nor am I pretending my knowledge of Japanese is extensive. There will definitely be mistakes in here, and there were a few lines I just couldn’t wrap my brain around. Some of the translations are fairly liberal, others are kind of stilted. That said, if you want to get a feel for what’s being said on each page, I hope this will help!

It’s pretty long, so if you would rather read something more concise, @lalasma did an awesome translation of the Chapter 117 summary!

The format goes something like this:

Speaker: “Dialogue”

Speaker: (Thought)

Page numbers do not match the page numbers on the scans.

Let’s go to Pin’s apartment, shall we?

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something paradise

cs au. ‘there’s something about breaking an engagement and leaving the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with and finding yourself roommate-ing with the man who’s loved you through years and boyfriends and breakups and uncertainties that makes a person a little weepy, a little off balance, a little unsure.’ 

(i’ve been working on this for at least six weeks, and it’s finally, finally finished, and i’m something like pleased with it. (thanks to swallowedsong​ for looking over it and helping me and stuff.) so, enjoy whatever this is. (really long, among other things. just a head’s up.)

recommended listening: majesty snowbird by sufjan stevens.) 

don’t stop, don’t break

you can delight because you have a place

quiet room

I need you now


            She leaves him on a Tuesday.

            Packs up her share of the apartment instead of going to work, keeps Henry home from school so he can help. Wraps picture frames in scarves and sweaters, shoves books and DVDs into boxes, throws pots and pans and casserole dishes into the back seat. One trip to unload these small bits, another for Henry’s bed and dresser and nightstand.

            It takes just over 6 hours to remove every trace of them from this apartment that was supposed to be theirs and is now just his, but she doesn’t cry as she sweeps through one last time. As she takes her key off the chain, locking the door behind her and slipping it underneath. She doesn’t feel broken or empty. Isn’t sure what it is pulsing through her, something that tastes like regret or maybe failure.

            “Sorry, kid,” she says, eyes still dry, once they reach the car. He just shrugs. Smiles a small, sad thing.

            “It’s okay.”

            It’s not.

            But maybe it will be.

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Baekhyun’s EX’ACT Interview, « Monster » ver.

- Baekhyun -

Keywords: mischief, consistent, clarity

Q. What’s your earliest memory?

B. I think I was holding a baby milk bottle. (Laughs.) It was at my mother’s friend’s place. I think they had a baby there. I was maybe about 4. I remember my mom’s friend was doing the dishes, and I was holding an empty milk bottle. It was around sunset. They had an entryway right next to the living room, and there were three rooms total. It was a brownish-feeling house.

Q. Do you ever feel like you’re all grown up?

B. Grown up? I can’t believe I’m already 25. Oh, I do feel that way when I do something nice for my parents.

Q. Do you think you’re a consistent person?

B. I’m not really a consistent person. I act more according to how I feel. Spontaneous, I’d say. (Laughs.) I’m quite fascinated by people who are consistent. Like D.O.

Q. Do you think people change more because of internal factors, or because of external factors?

B. The external factor is big. If people around you say you’re doing well, then you seem to yourself like you’re doing well, and if they say you’re bad, you feel like you aren’t. I’d say the internal factor is not so relevant. Because people can’t be totally objective about themselves anyway, and because we give ourselves too much credit. So I don’t think internal factors are enough to propel someone to really change.

Q. What would you say is a fundamental element of you that does not change even when the environment changes?

B. My goofiness, my bright personality.

Q. When do you feel most yourself?

B. When I’m goofing off with the members in the offstage waiting rooms. But then, I don’t really change that much or act differently in front of different people. I’m the same on stage and off. It’s just a matter of degree.

Q. Are you ever burdened by other people’s expectations? When do you feel that you become free of them?

B. Always. What if I can’t sing well, what if I can’t dance well, those are the things I’m most worried about after becoming an entertainer. To get away from the burden, the thing to do is practice, work out, building yourself up. Then you feel the burden a bit less, as you solve issues one by one.

Q. What’s the thing you’re most afraid of?

B. Dying. Dying from a severe disease, not being able to live long. I want to live a long life without falling sick, peacefully. Because I’m a pacifist.

Q. Which do you believe in more, coincidence or fate?

B. I’d say fate. You know how they say, “that other thing happened because it was meant to lead to this.” I believe that kind of thing. I feel like this is all fate. Being cast for this company at the beginning was also like that. Debuting as EXO was also fate, it seems.

Q. Do you like things to be clear or ambiguous?

B. I prefer clarity. Even when I’m discussing our schedules, I like things to be exact. Either it’s yes or it’s no, I don’t enjoy it when someone goes, “Oh, I don’t know.” Either you like it, or you don’t. Saying “I don’t know” seems to be something you do when you’re not comfortable saying something, or for some other such reason.

Q. What’s something that you think is valuable, that can’t be seen by the eye?

B. The affection between people. You don’t see it, but it’s the most amazing thing, right. You meet a lot of people one by one but you can’t have the same size of affection for each of them. Your heart just goes out more to certain people, and that’s really fascinating.

Q. If one thing in life could last forever, what would you want it to be?

B. If it could last forever, EXO. I’d like it if the name EXO could stand forever, maybe as a role model for lots of musicians, to be remembered and missed in people’s memories, like Michael Jackson. It would be lovely if EXO could last for a long time in people’s memories, proving that we made an important mark in our field.

thelasttactician asked:

Hello, it me/I have a question for thee/Visually my scenes do speak/but longevity makes them weak/the complaints are yelling/‘this is too long!’/'did we really need this paragraph on songs?!’/yes I cry its needed for plot/yet my chapters just seem to plod/so how do I, your wizardry/make my chapters concise but visually (Basically my chapters are long n have a crapton of depth, descriptions etc. And I love that but i know it’s painfully lengthy n dunno how to shorten it)

Aww, that was so cute! Well done! :) *applause*

The best way to shorten long chapters is to be really honest with yourself about what can be trimmed. So often, we tend to get caught up in describing things that just aren’t important to the story. We might spend a paragraph or two describing a room that the character will be in for a minute before passing into the next one. A really great rule of thumb is to reserve in-depth description for things that really matter–things that are important to the story in some way. With settings and side characters, a lot of the time we can just choose one or two details with impact and leave it at that. For example, say your character is walking into a mansion because they’re going to interview a countess…

1) Shelby stepped into the grand foyer, the rich red carpet muffling the sound of her footfalls. Gold-flecked wallpaper covered every wall, catching the prismatic light cast by an enormous crystal chandelier hanging above the entryway. 

“Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

Okay, this is nice description, but why is any of that important? All it tells us is that the mansion is opulent, which–duh! Most mansions are opulent. This doesn’t actually tell the reader anything, and unless that crystal chandelier is going to fall on the butler and spray gore all over those gold-flecked walls, these details are completely unimportant.

2) Shelby stepped into the grand foyer, the rotted wood floor creaking beneath every footfall. Peeling, moldy wallpaper covered every wall, striped by the dusty sunlight pouring in through broken shutters.

“Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

Now THIS is telling us something! This is no ordinary, opulent mansion. This is a dilapidated mansion, and it tells the reader that Lady Rocheforte has fallen on hard times. If her financial status is somehow important to the story, this is a description that carries its weight.

3) Shelby stepped into the elegant grand foyer. “Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

Shelby stepped into the chic grand foyer. “Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

Shelby stepped into the stylish grand foyer. “Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

Shelby stepped into the old-fashioned grand foyer. “Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

Shelby stepped into the austere grand foyer. “Right this way,” the butler said, leading her into the study to wait for Lady Rocheforte.

This is a much shorter description than in number one, yet if Lady Rocheforte isn’t an important character, and if her mansion isn’t an important setting, it’s plenty. That single word choice, used to describe the foyer, is more than enough to set the stage for the reader. It’s a mansion, it’s opulent (as all mansions are, unless described otherwise), and it’s whatever this one word tells us it is. Think of that word as the theme for that room. It makes that one room the character is passing through a bit more real without taking up a lot of space on the page.

I hope that helps! :)

Have a writing question? I’d love to hear from you! Please be sure to read my ask rules and master list first or your question will not be answered. :)

Amber Eyes

Word Count: about 2200 (not including this beginning part)

Summary: Lucifer meets a little girl with amber eyes who does the impossible (alternatively, a little girl wraps the devil around her finger)

Characters/pairing/fandom: SPN, Lucifer x Child!Reader (she’s 6) (non romantic obviously), Lucifer, Reader and some horrible humans

Warnings: there’s some abuse because apparently I can’t write anything nice

A/N: Alrighty so I might do a part two for this if y'all want one. I just want validation for my fic BC I think it’s cute. It’s a reader insert, but its in 3rd person and I’m really bad with the tenses. Sorry.

Saying Lucifer was a softie would be a huge lie unless you were talking about him and a certain amber-eyed human child.

Whilst he had been in the cage, he had figured out, over time, how to peer out of it and at Earth and the humans his Father loved so much. He would rant and rage to himself and the oblivious passerby as his astral-self developed into a human visage, part of him subconsciously wishing he could be among them.

During one of these “outings”, Lucifer had been watching human children run around him, scoffing and flaring at them and their parents, when a small child has walked right towards him. He had stared curiously at her and as she got closer to him and stared to practically and impossibly at him, he somehow felt himself soften towards her.

“Hi,” she said to him, her voice bright and curious- so like a child in her words and actions despite the sadness and knowledge he can see in her eyes. “Why are you sad?” He had looked around him to see if, just maybe, there was another person. But there was nobody. She was, indeed, talking to him.

“I’m not sad, stupid girl. Go away,” he snapped at her, looking away dismissively, hoping she would listen while part of him hopes she would stay. The Cage was empty other than him, and it had been ages since he had talked to anyone besides himself.

“Mad, then,” the girl corrected simply, not moving or looking away from him. “You really shouldn’t be so angry, because eventually, it’ll just make you sad because all you’ll feel is angry,” the girl warned him wisely, making him look back down at her with surprise and more than a little curiosity.

“What makes you say so?” He asked after a second of mutual staring.

“I dunno,” she shrugged before reaching out to him, seizing a hold of his non-corporeal hand and began to tug on his arm. “Being so mad isn’t good for you,” she decided simply without looking at his face. She couldn’t see the shocked expression all over his features. “You need to play.”

Somehow the child had gotten him on a swing a few minutes later, and was able to push it with him on it, defying the laws of reality with his ability to stay seated on the swing while it moved, rather than it moving without him. This shocked him as well, meaning he stayed in the swing as she worked hard to keep him swinging, hoping to remove the scowl from his handsome face. Eventually she couldn’t do it anymore, her arms beginning to hurt, and hopped on the swing next to him, pumping her kegs and staring at him encouragingly.

“You have to swing your feet!” She instructed when he didn’t move to copy her actions. He startled, looking over at her before reluctantly following her lead, wary of the child. They swung for awhile, the girl chattering away to herself without any indication that she cared if he listened or not, talking about their surroundings calmly and yet simultaneously excitedly.

Eventually, a woman came over to the pair, not seeing anything next to the girl other than a swing moving on it’s own and mentally chalking it up to the wind. She seized the girl by the arm, yanking her off the swing mid-swing firmly but not hard enough to attract unwanted attention. The girl ceased talking immediately, clamping her lips closed while she looked at the ground, something Lucifer has noticed immediately. It unsettled him, how quiet she had become so quickly, so unlike the girl who had just dragged the devil to the swing set because she claimed he was too mad.

“I was looking everywhere for you, Y/N!” The woman who had a hold of her arm hisses with narrowed eyes as she crouches down the glare at the small child in front of her, who flinches away from her as much as she can while being in her grip. Lucifer let’s the swing slow to a stop as the woman straightens, marching the girl along behind her as she went, the girl sucking her lips into her mouth and sinking her teeth into them to stop the whimpers of pain that wanted to escape as her mother’s fingers twisted and tightened on her arm, almost like a ‘snake bite’. She looked over at Lucifer as he walked along side her, watching curiously, and offered him a smile, her cherubic features brightening when she realizes she isn’t alone.

“What’s your name?” She asked him, forgetting the fact that her mother was still there and still dragging her down the road to their house, where her father most likely waited ready for them at the door. Her mother twisted quickly, eyes wide as her heart shuddered in fear of her daughter somehow having attracted the attention of somebody who might get her in trouble for the way she treats her offspring, but she doesn’t see Lucifer as he glares at her with cold eyes before he turns to the girl, eyes softening without his notice.

“I’m Lucifer,” he offers to the child with what’s almost a smile.

“I’m Y/N,” she replies simply and unnecessarily, morphing her face into an even brighter smile as she stares at him, ignoring the pain as it increases in her arm and gazing up at him until her mother grabs ahold of her chin with a tight grip. Her eyes are narrowed and her lips are pursed in a tight line as she forces her child to look at her.

“There’s nobody there!” She snarls, “so stop talking!” The girl flinches, letting out a soft cry when her mothers nails pierce through her flesh, small droplets if blood pushing through the wounds and tinting the ends of her nails. The older woman curls her lip in disgust before letting go of her face and straightening, dragging the girl along behind her as she continues the trek to their home. The girl doesn’t speak again and doesn’t look back up at Lucifer as he continues to walk with them, unexplainable curious about the girl who could interact with him, despite him not being there, and make him feel so at ease.

When they arrive at the house- a small, one story house with a nice look to it. It’s white, the lawn impeccable and a lively flowerbed close along the front. Lucifer simply appears inside the house as the female duo continue on their way, and he figures he has about a minute before they arrive at the front door, which he notices has a deadbolt and two chain locks.

It’s nice inside, with off white walls and carpets. There are no photos on the walls and the furniture is all darkly styled. The entryway opens up into a spacious living room, with what he assumes is a connecting bedroom to the left when he inspects the room. The bathroom is in the entryway to the left and to the right is a kitchen. In the kitchen, towards the back, is a door he assumes must be the child’s - Y/N’s- bedroom. He notices the padlock on the door and walks through the wood, surprised when he realizes that its not a bedroom, it’s a basement.

It’s dark, but he can see the tampered with light switch and the scratches carved into the wooden door, some crusted with blood. There’s a growing anger in him as he moves down the stairs, and when he gets to the bottom he’s greeted with an old mattress in the corner, a washing machine and a dryer across the room from it. The floors are damp and the room is cold, the drain in the center of the room without a top helping with either problem. There’s no heater that he can see, nor are there any windows. The only light is on the ceiling above the washing machine- far too high for someone of Y/N’s height, and there isn’t even a switch for it.

They lock her down here in the dark? Everything about the girl screams purity to him, and while he understands the base nature of their acts towards the girl, he doesn’t understand why she is their target, of all things. The fact that they’re her parents makes his skin crawl. He and Y/N have something in common, he supposes- both of their parents locked them away in a horrible place. This was Y/N’s hell, and he decides that if this is where he was locked up rather than The Cage he would probably suffer the same as he does now.

There’s a rattle above him and he appears back where he had the first time (in the middle of the entry way), watching the man he hasn’t seen before stagger towards the door. He’s large for a human, both in weight and height, with graying hair and a weathered face. He’s hardly dressed, wearing only a stained tank top and boxers. He unlocks the door and grunts in acknowledgement as he turns back around immediately, walking back towards the bedroom.

Y/N is surprised to see Lucifer inside of her house, but doesn’t make a move to acknowledge him other than the widening of her eyes at him for fear of the woman holding her arm. Her mother drags her to the basement door, pushing the girl inside after unlocking it with a key that had been stashed on top of the door frame. She locks it immediately behind her. Lucifer appears at the bottom of the stairs, not expecting to be in the perfect place for Y/N’s small body to collide with his as she falls down the stairs. He accidentally cushions her fall.

She lands on him hard, but he hardly moves other than lifting his arms to catch her body completely before she can fall to the floor. She turns those amber eyes towards him to stare at his face, her own loose with shock and awe. She’d never been touched by anyone other than her parents and never for anything other than to be moved or to cause pain, and shed certainly never been held.

“How did you get here?” She asks him with her bright voice that trembles with fear and uncertainty as he slowly sets her down in the ground, internally marveling at how she had somehow warmed him from his constant frigid cold. It was unsettling but somehow not.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m an angel?” He doesn’t tell her he’s fallen. He doesn’t tell her he’s “satan”. He doesn’t say anything other than that.

“Yes,” she says with a firm nod, hardly thinking about it, pinching her face into her childish perception of a serious expression.

“Do you live down here?” He asks curiously, looking around. She nods, her face falling as she looks around as well, although its almost completely pitch black other than some light streaming through the floorboards overhead.

“Yes. I stay down here-” she’s cut off by someone stomping hard in the floor above them and incoherent shouting. After a tense minute she continues in a whisper, “sometimes we go outside so people know I’m alive. There isn’t anything to do, sorry Lucifer.” Hearing his name with her voice makes him uncomfortable, somehow, and he frowns.

“Don’t call me that.”

“How about Mr. Angel?” She asks as she walks to sit on the side of the bed, pulling her feet off the cold floor. “Or Luci?”

“Luci?” The devil gapes at the small girl for a moment and she nods, eyes wide and searching for his approval. “I guess- I guess…” She smiles brightly before moving to reach under the mattress, pulling something out and then patting the mattress next to her with an encouraging look at him.

He walks over after a second of contemplation, watching her carefully as she studies the book cover. My Giant Story Book.

“My mommy gave me this when I was little,” she whispers to him, smiling in memory. “Can you read?” She asks him, looking at the book as she pulls open the thick cover and studies the title page.

“Of course I can read!” He snaps immediately, almost offended by her innocent curiosity.

“That’s really cool. I can only read some,” Y/N offers, opening to the first page with more than the title on it. Lucifer leans over, looking the letters over before leaning back with a smug smirk.

“Yes I can,” he admits before he realizes his mistake. He looks back down at her to see she’s staring at his eyes, her bottom lip puffed out, pouting. Begging him.

“Will you read to me?” She asks after a minute if begging, opening the story book to point to the Thumbelina story.

“Of course not-” he’s cut off by a warbled ‘please’ and her begging amping up further, her face trembling and her eyes watering, threatening tears. Lucifer’s stomach drops and he finds himself unable to even attempt to deny her again. He sighs and reaches out, grabbing the book somehow and begins to read after she situates herself laying down on the bed near him.

“Some years ago, in a small cottage by the river, lived a kind woman…”

By the time Lucifer has finished the story about a half hour later, Y/N managed to wiggle her way into his lap somehow. Her body is warm despite his freezing temperature, and the devil decides that he doesn’t really mind so much.

Tea and Confessions

“Tea and Confessions”

My Masterlist - Here

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,693

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Your Last Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Warnings: Mental Health (talk of self harming, anxiety, and depression)

Summary:  Reader is part of the Avengers. She has only been with them for a few months, and is still getting used to it. She was alone for a long time, and tends to freak out around groups. After a particularly difficult time, she decides go to a cafe. She doesn’t tell anyone where she is going, but Bucky sees her leave. He decides to follow her. He stays and keeps her company/lets her vent. Cuteness ensues.

Author’s Note: This is my interpretation of the characters and the reader is one of my own creation. I leave the names and such open so you can put your own name and features in or you can create your own. I know this may not please everyone, but I’m writing this for myself. I hope people will enjoy this fanfic, but I know that you can’t please everyone.

I also want to take the time and thank @goodnightwife for being my beta reader and helping me edit and bounce ideas off.

If you would like to be tagged in any future pieces, please let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3 - 


Tags: @luciebell-writes @goodnightwife

My Masterlist - Here

    Being accepted into the Avengers was something you never thought possible. Yes you had some special abilities, but it was nothing compared to Wanda, Tony, or a certain metallic super soldier that you’ve developed feelings for. Your entire life consisted of being pushed to the side, or told to stay quiet to not seem like a possible threat. This made you into who you are today: A young woman who is still figuring out her powers, but is also stuck seeing herself as an annoyance. 

    As much as you appreciated everything the group has done and continues to do for you, sometimes it gets too much. You aren’t used to being around so many people all the time, and while you had your own room, that wasn’t enough sometimes. All of the talk about missions and training and whatever they were up to was overwhelming.

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anonymous asked:


SOMETIMES THE DAD HAROLD BUG BITES!! I’m going to have to start really tracking these down… most of them are tagged with dad harold/dad harold blurbs, though. 

It’s just the one, you think. You rub the side of your heavily pregnant belly and take a deep breath in and out. It’s just the one contraction – probably not even a real contraction, even, weren’t they supposed to be a lot stronger? Like…. You wince and curl up with a low moan of agony and gasp a bit when it’s through.

Like that one. That one was pretty painful, actually. But not quite like that one – surely they’re supposed to be worse.

And they’re not even that clo—

You turn your head into your pillow to stifle a cry when another one bears down on you.

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Stay Off The Grass

I knew the minute he stepped into the classroom that we were going to be friends. In the same way animals are drawn to others of their own kind, I recognized a fellow member of the nerd species and knew that if we were to survive middle school, we’d have to stick together. He was a large kid in every sense of the word, bespectacled, with the kind of uneven haircut that only comes from an overconfident mom who saw it done on YouTube once. The teacher introduced him as Jeremy Clyde and directed him to the only empty seat in the back of the class. I tried to offer a friendly smile as he shuffled past, but he stared resolutely at his feet, as if making eye contact with anyone would declare it open season for bullying. Sorry, Jeremy, I thought sadly, but you’ve practically got a target on your back whether you look up or not.

As I had suspected, it didn’t take long for the more popular kids to start prodding each other and pointing to Jeremy when the teacher’s back was turned. They were giggling quietly and whispering nastily behind their hands. When one noticed my not-so-subtle attempts to listen in, he leaned forward and told me to mind my own business. My efforts earned me a hard, painful flick to my ear. Jeremy sat there stoically all the while, even when they started peppering him with little paper balls. When the bell rang, he gathered up his things and lumbered out of the class as quickly as he could.

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TITLE: Fear and Other Related Emotions


AUTHOR: latent-thoughts

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine meeting Loki to interrogate him while he is incarcerated in the Helicarrier glass enclosure. He initially tries to scare you away but then becomes interested in you as you keep talking to him.


NOTES/WARNINGS: Warning for sexual situations, slightly dubious consent and violence (combat/fighting/interrogations).

This chapter picks up after the events of Thor: The Dark World and just before The Avengers: Age of Ultron. The events have remained canon so far, but it will turn AU soon.

(A year later)

Reva was listening to her client as she explained her recurring nightmares to her. It was only their second session and there was much to learn about her still. So far, she had come to know that the poor woman’s nightmares featured a pack of feral dogs chasing her into the darkness.

Involuntarily, Reva compared them to her own. Hers featured a feral space Viking. The nightmares showed him as angry and spiteful, wicked and seductive, cunning and calculating, all at the same time. Sometimes she was being murdered, and sometimes, seduced. She always woke up in panic, with sweat running down her back.

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Left or Right?

Character: Taeyeon (Girls Generation)
Word count: 930
Summary: Not everyone is perfect. And Kim Taeyeon is on a mission to prove that | #fluff

Originally posted by aprils-end

Attempt #1

“Jagi! Can you come here for a second?”

Taeyeon waited for you in the kitchen, wearing the cutest apron she could find while holding a heavy rolling pin in hand, which she waved at you in greeting when you entered. “I forgot the instructions to make this pie. Do you think you could help?”

Not once had she seen you fail at anything.

Not once yet, that is.

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Merry Meta Christmas!

Some grossly romantic Hollywood movie star KageHina fluff~ ( ̄▽ ̄*)ゞ (not part of santababy… just something I wanted to write)


A Beverly Hills Christmas (almost). It’s December twenty-fourth, Christmas Eve, and the mansion is still busy with activity. There are no plans for a Christmas party this year, but many of the staff have stayed on tonight on a volunteer basis—though Kageyama is sure the amount of alcohol he has provided has something to do with that. It’s nearly a party anyway, and the hustle and bustle is sort of festive—plus, he needs all the help he can get.

Hinata has been shooting on location for three weeks in the south of France. He gets home that night (in five minutes, apparently, because he never calls ahead), and Kageyama has organized—with copious amounts of help from their friends and managers—turning the mansion into a surprise winter wonderland just in time for Hinata’s return. Hinata loves Christmas, and Kageyama loves Hinata, and so dumping him right into the spirit of the holiday season seems like a good way to say, “Welcome home (I missed you)”.

“Update—all the stairway lights are done, and they just hung the star on the tree in the foyer,” Suga says, falling into step beside him as he hurries down the stairs. “And you look very nice.”

Kageyama smooths his black vest over the dark red (Suga and Hinata would both call the shade wine) button down he’s wearing, and nods.

“Thank you for helping with this,” he says. Suga waves him off. He’s busy snapping pictures of the decked out house with his phone, which Kageyama is sure will go up on all their official social media pages in mere moments.

“I don’t fly out for another three days,” Suga says. He’s going back to Japan to see his parents, but wanted to skip the holiday airport traffic. “Yachi is hosting a little get together tonight, but that doesn’t start until later.”

They step into the foyer and Kageyama takes a moment to stop and admire the Christmas tree that’s been set up right in the middle. The mansion is three stories, and it has uninterrupted space in the entryway, right up to the lofty ceiling. The tree nearly touches it, soaring high into the air—they’re in the process of taking down the ladder necessary to reach the top.

“Excellent,” he breathes, staring at the intricate white lights and ornaments, and at the top, a gleaming gold Hollywood star that makes him smile. “It looks bloody brilliant, Suga.”

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Boys of Summer

for @felicityash and @calgasms‘s pregnancy/daddy!5sos blurb night!

Luke was well aware of the possibility that you were having the time of your life while he was on tour. Summer was the time for freedom and adventures and he had no problem picturing you lounging around in your bathing suit all of the time, probably firing up the grill while you were at it. Yup, you and your two mini Hemmings were probably having a blast going to the beach, having water gun fights and getting tans. He just couldn’t wait to be home with you guys.

And it wasn’t until Luke actually got home that his illusion was shattered. Mostly by your older son Finn spraying him in the face and chest with the hose from the kitchen sink, but it could have also been the sight of 4 year old Robbie, butt ass naked and wearing his Spiderman underwear on his head like a weird holey hat, barreling straight for him.

Wincing as his younger son’s tiny manhood slapped against his shin, Luke snatched the hose out of Finn’s hand and surveyed the disaster that was the first floor of the Hemmings household. There were throw pillows everywhere, the fridge was wide open with it’s contents spilled out on the tiled floor and not a single chair in his view was standing up right. And that was just the entryway. Half laughing half sighing, Luke looked to his two offspring.

“Where’s your mom?” He asked.

Robbie, snuggling up to his father’s knee, merely pointed in a vague direction while Finn, at the mature age of 7 and fresh out of first grade, answered matter of factly. “She’s in the living room. Says she’s ‘done’.”

Shaking his head, Luke ruffled Finn’s hair -identical in texture and color to yours- in thanks before gently disengaging Rob from his leg and heading for the living room.

What he found was you sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch wearing the baggiest of t-shirts and an equally baggy pair of basketball shorts, and muttering “I give up. I give up,” under your breath while you stared blankly up at the ceiling. It wasn’t until he was standing right by your feet that you even seemed to notice him.

“Please be real,” you whispered, fervor in your tone as you looked up at him with desperate eyes.

Laughing, Luke fell to his knees next to you, first removing his own soaked t-shirt before proceeding to remove yours. He smirked as he revealed the sports bra you had on underneath; it was brightly colored and not unlike the bikini top you’d been wearing in his fantasies.

Realizing what he was about to do, you frown and go, “no, Luke don’t, it’s too hot-” but he ignores you and does what you’d predicted he’s do, which was to plop himself on top of you, chest to chest and stretch out over you like some kind of living blanket. You only let him lie there without protest because his skin is still cool from the air conditioned ride over from the airport. “Okay,” you sigh contentedly, snuggling a little closer. “You can stay.”

Luke laughed again before leaning down to first kiss your forehead, then your each of your cheekbones, then your nose, before finally settling on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, lifting your arms and tunneling your fingers through the shorter hairs at the back of his head.

“Mmm,” murmured your husband. “I missed you.”

Pulling back a bit, you raised an eyebrow. “And I, can’t believe I let you plant not just one but two of your demon seed inside of me.”

Though of course, they were gorgeous boys. Finn had your hair and Luke’s everything else while Robert was all Luke from top to bottom. But they were getting rowdier as they got older and, when Luke was on tour like he had been just hours ago, they freakin’ out numbered you.

“Let’s have another,” he said.

Letting out a hysterical laugh, you just laid your head back on the floor and looked at him. He was serious. “Oh my God, Luke-oof!”

Bored with the lack of attention from their parents, the aforementioned demon seed had chosen that moment to pounce on their father’s back. Their father, who was still spread out on top of you. He’d been keeping most of his weight off of you as the two of you made out but, your sons’ surprise attack had caused him to lose his balance and, as result, almost crush you with the combined weight of all three of them.

You just groaned as they squished you further into the plush carpeting of your living room.

“Rob,” Luke said, closing his eyes in what had to be silent prayer. “Please tell me you’re wearing underwear.”

“Nope!” Squealed your youngest as you gasped, trying not to burst into laughter. It was Luke’s turn to groan as Finn grinned down at you, missing front tooth and all, from over his father’s shoulder.   

“Luke, we can give it a shot if you can guarantee me a girl this time around,” you said, finally replying to his request.

“Yeah,” Luke wiggled around a bit on top of you, causing the boys to burst into giggles at your expression of discomfort. “No promises there babe.”

You rolled your eyes as Luke joined in on the boys’ laughter before finally cracking a smile as you watched the men of your life giggle from above you.

Creepypasta #979: I Learned What Lurks In The Grass

Length: Super long

I knew the minute he stepped into the classroom that we were going to be friends. In the same way animals are drawn to others of their own kind, I recognized a fellow member of the nerd species and knew that if we were to survive middle school, we’d have to stick together. He was a large kid in every sense of the word, bespectacled, with the kind of uneven haircut that only comes from an overconfident mom who saw it done on YouTube once. 

The teacher introduced him as Jeremy Clyde and directed him to the only empty seat in the back of the class. I tried to offer a friendly smile as he shuffled past, but he stared resolutely at his feet, as if making eye contact with anyone would declare it open season for bullying. Sorry, Jeremy, I thought sadly, but you’ve practically got a target on your back whether you look up or not.

As I had suspected, it didn’t take long for the more popular kids to start prodding each other and pointing to Jeremy when the teacher’s back was turned. They were giggling quietly and whispering nastily behind their hands. When one noticed my not-so-subtle attempts to listen in, he leaned forward and told me to mind my own business. My efforts earned me a hard, painful flick to the ear. Jeremy sat there stoically all the while, even when they started peppering him with little paper balls. When the bell rang, he gathered up his things and lumbered out of the class as quickly as he could.

I didn’t see him again until lunch, when I found him sitting alone in the cemented corner of the quad by the trash bins. He squinted up at me when my shadow fell across the book he was reading and frowned.

“Hi.” I said.


“Can I sit with you?”

“Why?” He was genuinely surprised by my request, maybe even a little suspicious that I was up to something.

I shrugged, “I usually sit with my friend, Ben, but he’s not here today.” I didn’t add that, without Ben, I’d have to eat alone. It was too pathetic.

“Ok.” He still seemed a bit reluctant, but I sat down on the concrete beside him and unpacked my PB&J. I could tell he was watching me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the punchline to come.

“Whatcha reading?” I asked around a mouthful of my sandwich.

“It’s about a boy and a bear.”


It took about a week before Jeremy believed that I wasn’t playing an extended joke on him. He was quiet at first, but when I, and then Ben after he came back to school, kept joining him at the trash bins for lunch every day, he opened up. 

He was a smart kid and knew all sorts of things about superheroes and insects and video games. He had a new book every day and would give us the highlights of the most exciting parts. Before coming to our school, he’d been homeschooled by his mom, which explained a lot, and he didn’t have any friends other than me and Ben. 

There was no denying that Jeremy was a little weird, but so were we, and we formed a friendship based in that mutual weirdness.

“Batman would totally win!” I argued during one of our lunches, the only one in Camp Wayne.

Jeremy and Ben scoffed at me like I was crazy. I had just prepared my best counterpoint that surely would have launched Batman to victory, even to them, when the warning bell rang. Usually we were all waiting outside our class at least five minutes prior to the bell to avoid being tardy, but today we’d lost track of time. 

We scrambled to pack up our things and Ben and I decided to cut across the quad’s yard, the most direct route back. Jeremy, however, kept to the concrete walkway. It wound all the way around the quad and crossed in front of the cafeteria before turning into the classroom hallway.

“What’re you doing, man?” We called over our shoulder to him, “Come on, we’re going to be late!”

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okay but how about mchaleinski where none of them were previously dating and all started falling for each other simultaneously

like maybe derek, stiles, and scott have never met before until they all decided that gender, sexuality, and media was a great class to take to bump up their gpa before they graduate

and they never talk to each other, but they all sit in a line of desks in the back row of the lecture hall. and even though it’s a college class, they most definitely have assigned seating because they ALWAYS sit in the same three seats, in the same row, every class

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Coming Home Chapter 2 (Shalaska) - Jem

AN: Hi, it’s Jem. I’m so grateful that you guys like this story. Here’s the next chapter. Now that I’ve got two stories going on I’m trying to alternate posting from each but we’ll see if I can keep that up.

Story Summary: Sharon and Alaska are girlfriends and decide to foster a teenage Violet

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Hide and Seek: Story of Dorothy WALKTHROUGH: FLOOR 1

This is the first part of my walkthrough of the new RPG horror game for mobile devices, Hide and Seek [Story of Dorothy]

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | The rest are still being made

Download it here

If there are any mistakes, please let me know

Also, go ahead and explore the rooms, read the books„ do whatever, I will mark down at the lowest part what NOT to do at certain rooms

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Hey @sixpenceee !

I thought you’d be interested in this fellow. He’s a statue that makes his home at my workplace. His name is Shifty and although he’s creepy af during the day, he’s 10x more unsettling during closing time.

His eyes look almost disturbingly lifelike and despite working there for almost 6 months, he still scared the shot out of me.

The best part? He stands JUST far enough to the right of the staff entryway that he’s hard to notice when you’re first turning the corner. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve screamed at that mother fucker.

Oh and people also like to oh so kindly shift him around so you never know what position he’s gonna be in when you see him.