When I watched Avatar for the first time, I did it totally out of order. The first episode I saw was Cave of Two Lovers, I watched the finale before Western Air Temple, and the first episode was one of the last I saw. I was mostly at the mercy of the whims of Nickelodeon’s Saturday morning marathons.
So I knew from almost the beginning that Zuko (spoiler alert) was going to grow his hair out and switch sides, and I knew it happened mid book 3. Watching Crossroads of Destiny, then, was a totally different experience. When Azula gave him the ultimatum, I knew which side he’d choose, and I was so frustrated and angry. I wanted Zuko to be good already, dammit. After all of the development and the “metamorphosis” he’d gone through only a few episodes ago, I was convinced that his mistake in CoD was in there purely for shock value (and for me, knowing how it ended, I didn’t even get to experience that) and to draw out the angst. I was bitter because I felt cheated out of a half season’s worth of Redeemed!Zuko hanging out with the gaang. (It’s also worth mentioning that I was like 12.)
But now I know I was completely wrong. Whenever I try to think about what would have happened with the rest of the series if Zuko had sided with Aang instead of Azula, it just doesn’t work.Zuko needed to make that mistake in the crystal catacombs, and I can’t imagine his story without it.
Zuko developed a lot as a character through his travels in the Earth Kingdom up until his moment of truth under Ba Sing Se. He was rejected by his father, who sent Azula to imprison him and put out wanted posters that permitted anyone to kill him on site. He experienced true poverty and saw first-hand the horrible effects of the Fire Nation’s war. He’s been on his own. And, at last, he even gave up his search for the Avatar for a little while– not because realized it was wrong, but because realized it was hopeless.
But let’s think for a minute about what it would have meant for Zuko to side with the Avatar and fight Azula in Ba Sing Se. It would have made him a traitor. To side with Aang would be not only to acknowledge that the war was unjust and the fire nation the oppressor, but it would also be to actively fight against his own nation. And, implicitly, it would mean acknowledging the truth that his father did not and would never want him back. Zuko, at the end of Book 2, has had many experiences that point directly to these truths and in light of them, Zuko siding with the Avatar doesn’t seem that far-fetched. In fact, it was what a lot of people watching for the first time expected.
Here’s the catch: even though Zuko had had all of these experiences, he hadn’t yet processed them and fit them all together to form their logical conclusions. Sure, he knew the horrors the Fire Nation had committed in its war for prosperity, but he still wouldn’t have denounced his nation ; he knew that his father had declared him a traitor and sent Azula to lock him up, but he wouldn’t have admitted at that point that his father would never love or accept him and preferred him dead. Zuko pre-redemption is the king of cognitive dissonance. He has a lot at stake with the processing of all of these experiences—basically, his entire world-view. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that trying to reconcile what he saw in the Earth Kingdom with his current world-view could easily bring everything he knew and considered sacred crashing down around him. And there was one thing in particular that Zuko would protect at all costs; one truth that has been at the center of his world and forefront of his mind ever since his banishment — that he had a home to return to and there was a place for him within it, that if he just didn’t screw up for once everything would be okay again. This is the one thing Zuko clings to throughout his entire banishment, despite all the evidence and logic to the contrary, because if this one truth falls away what does he have left?
Neither the wine nor the men, either the beaches or the crystal clear water could interest you. Your family knew something was up with you, your brother even attempting a heart-to-heart one night to pry deep into the corners of your mind to understand why you weren’t your happy, bubbly self. Even Harry’s family had taken notice, his sister struggling to get more than three word answers from you, either via text or in person, over the last few months.
But you stayed mum. You hadn’t much to say anyway. You’d done a lot of growing, a lot of thinking, since Harry had left you all alone.
If life were divided into chapters, the night he came round and the morning he left made for a very distinct Ending and Beginning.
Harry hadn’t been able to ignore you for much longer than a week. Not because of your persistence—no, you hadn’t reached out to him again since the day he all but vanished from your bed—but because guilt kept gnawing at his conscious every time he looked at his phone. He’d read all the texts—and saved them, too—stared at the missed call notifications, but he hadn’t brought himself to listen to the voicemail you’d left late that evening. He hadn’t mustered up the courage, and he was disgusted with himself for it.
So, with a deep breath, he listened to the message. Better a week late than never, right?
You were crying; well, sobbing was more accurate. You didn’t say anything at first, probably not realizing the recording had clicked on as you choked in search of air. Once you settled down, you laid into him with a few choice words—all of which he agreed with—but it wasn’t the name calling that stuck with him or the way you hoped to never see him again that plagued him with regret. It was your final word, your final question, that haunted him.
Because there were a million reasons why and none of them excused him for being such a dickhead. And that made him angry, very angry, because there weren’t many situations he found himself completely lost in, unable to navigate the waters, yet here he was drowning in your tears without a buoy or damn life preserver in sight.
So he called.
And, despite being in the library studying for an exam, you answered. You hesitated at first, the stitches holding together your heart pulling at the seams with the sight of his name and his face across your screen, but answered nonetheless.
——————————————————————————————————— Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Torture, Swearing A/N: Continuation of THIS prompt (need to read first). After high demand, here is the continuation to my Bucky prompt! ——————————————————————————————————— Feeling the metal cuff
dig into your wrist, you tugged at the rusted chains that kept you bound to
your chair. Letting out a pained grunt, you threw all your weight forwards,
trying anything to get you free.
that’s just not going to work.” A smarmy voice murmured from the shadows,
causing a shiver to run down your spine, “I admire your perseverance though,
you just won’t seem to break…” He continued, moving out of the shadows with a
familiar object clutched in his hands.
“No no no no no…” You
breathed out shakily, pushing yourself back as far as you could go, feeling the
tears roll down your cheeks as your tormentor smiled maliciously.
“You brought this on
yourself…” He whispered, turning the switch and blasting you in the face with
water. Spluttering and wheezing, you felt the familiar feeling of your lungs
searching for air.
You gasped as the onslaught of water stopped. “Are you going to do
what I ask?” The man barked, the whites of his teeth gleaming in the dark.
Feeling a sob build in
your throat, you violently shook your head, holding back a scream as water once
again blasted you in the face.
Waking with a start, you curled up at the head of your bed,
letting out a shaky sob into your hands. You thought you were over your
nightmares, but everything with Bucky had caused it all to come rushing back.
That familiar feeling of not being able to breathe, of feeling your lungs burn
due to an absence of air. Feeling suffocated in your dark room, you grabbed the
jumper you’d thrown on the floor and fled to your usual hiding place.
“I really fucked up, didn’t I?” Bucky murmured, head in his
hands as Steve and Sam stood in front of him.
“Yeah bud.” Steve said, “But so did we, we never should’ve
provoked you into it.” Hand resting comfortingly on his friend’s shoulder.
“Yeah dude, this is on all of us.” Sam sighed, pinching the
bridge of his nose before flopping down on the couch.
“I need some air…” Bucky huffed, pushing himself up and
striding out of the room.
He didn’t know why he did what he did, he just could not
stand the smug looks on Sam and Steve’s faces. He knew that everything they
were saying was true, that he constantly found himself drawn to you, even if
you were always butting heads.
Getting in the elevator, he pressed the button for the roof,
leaning back against the glass wall as it began to rise.
Sitting on the low wall, you took in a deep breath of night
air. From your position, you could see for miles across New York, feeling your
body relax as you focused on the hustle and bustle of the city and the
twinkling lights both above and below you.
“Oh…” You heard quietly from behind you, immediately
swiveling to see who had joined you. “Shit, Y/N… I didn’t know you would be
out here…” Bucky murmured, mouth hanging open slightly.
“Yeah, well… I am.” You growled, having to hold back the
tears that had already sprung to your eyes.
“Look, about earlier I-“ He started, eyes swimming with guilt.
“Don’t!” You snapped, jumping up and moving back towards the
door, halting as his hand gripped your arm. “Let go of me, Barnes.” You
murmured quietly, not even looking in his direction.
“Will you just let me apologise?” He pleaded, voice cracking
slightly as he spotted the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.
For @blogtealdeal, who loves Nessian wing sin and who has blessed this fandom with Moriel fanart I never
thought we would get to see. You are an absolute *blessing* Nicole.
Thank you for all of the amazing work that you do. I wish there was more
I could do to say thanks because that Moriel fanart killed my heart and brought it back to life again. <3
comes from the Adele song. It doesn’t totally fit lyrically for this
fic, but it’s all I listened to while I wrote it and I don’t really do
music while writing, so… yeah.
discovers in a fit of rage that Feyre isn’t the only one who can summon
Illyrian wings at will. After a particularly long day of flying leaves
her body aching, Cassian is there to sooth the pain in ways Nesta has never experienced before. Featuring Illyrian!Nesta and much wing sin. NSFW.
The first time Nesta discovers she has wings - she’s screaming at Cassian.
just a faint whine of annoyance. Not a simple shout over some shallow
disagreement. Not torn up words spat inches from his face.
But top of her lungs, blue in the face, going to kick his ass into the new year screaming.
argument was stupid, as usual. And when it’s over, she can’t even quite
remember what horrible thing it was about. The war had ended. Cassian
had fought what little he could. Nesta had left to do her part. Maybe
there were bitter words exchanged over still bleeding wounds. Maybe not.
Nesta knows is that one moment she is so absolutely enraged at the jab
Cassian let slip (that she knows he did not truly mean) and the next,
her back feels the way her lungs do drowning at the bottom of the ocean,
swimming up, up, up in a desperate search for air until finally that
bubble of water bursts, and the muscles of her back split open in agonizing pain and -
She has wings.
glorious membranous wings that stretch wide around her and seem to
absorb all that wasted energy she spent and threaten Cassian for her.
- whose jaw had promptly hit the floor at the sight of those wings as
they unfurled and cast red and gold shadows about the ground in the
Nesta had stood back smugly that day at the way Cassian
stared at her. She didn’t even fight him or pretend to stay angry when
he stepped close, slid his hands around her waist and up along her back
to the base of the wings as if to touch them, and she saw the sparkling
in his eyes like diamonds as he whispered, awestruck, in her ear, “Nesta.”
That had set her grinning ear to ear.
takes weeks for Nesta to figure out how to summon the wings at will.
Whatever magic the Cauldron gave her over them, it’s not easy to figure
out. And once she has mastered bringing the wings out at will, they’re
weak and untrained. The muscles are loose and imbalanced, unable to
support the size of her wingspan and Cauldron is her wingspan massive.
(Cassian eyes it for weeks trying not to compare.)
first, Cassian insists she refrain from flying. She has to do
stretching exercises to build up her strength, but Nesta grows restless
rather quickly. Another shouting match between them - You may literally die if you attempt to jump off that cliff Nesta Archeron - has her threatening to have Feyre train her, or Mother help him, Rhys. And so finally, Cassian relents.
And then… Nesta is flying. Soaring high into the sky over Velaris.
She can only handle a few minutes at a time, but fuck
if it doesn’t feel glorious. The world is stretched out below her and
she feels like she could control it all from where she swoops and
bellows above it. Every time she lands, every time the muscles scream
with pain and tiredness, she hates it and forces Cass to help her keep
training, keep going because damn it - she is going to master this.
only takes one time - that first time in the air and Nesta doesn’t know
how she can live again if the Cauldron hadn’t given her this gift.
Maybe this was the Cauldron’s way of making up for the other awful
things it did to her. She doesn’t quite mind.
stretch into longer episodes. An hour. Then a few. Until she can fly
just as long as Cassian. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could go longer
But it’s a struggle getting there. Her wings are so
large and her body has become one hell of a beast to support up in the
air. And all Nesta wants to do for months on end is fly. So naturally,
Cassian finds himself on the receiving end of many an endless, salty
landing with Nesta.
“Again,” she snaps at him.
“Nesta,” and it’s a warning.
Nesta swivels on her feet and those wings flex behind her, Nesta’s own brand of warning. “I said, again.”
crosses his arms with a wide berth at his legs and tosses one of those
taunting little smiles she both loathes and adores. “You didn’t say please.”
Nesta doesn’t back down. Not by a long shot. She doesn’t even stand
still. She takes two great strides bridging the distance between them
and leans right up into his face as far as she can on the tips of her
toes, her leathers groaning around her body as she reaches. “You didn’t
earn it, sweetheart,” she snarls. “I want to go again.”
knows she’ll kill him if he lets out the chuckle he has locked inside
his chest. So instead, he gently grips her shoulders and leans down
until their foreheads are almost touching.
And thank the Mother she doesn’t pull away from that touch.
he says. “You just flew for an hour straight. That’s farther than
you’ve ever come before and Cauldron, I’m proud. But you need to rest.
I’m not joking when I say you could kill yourself if you go too far.”
His hands slide slowly, sweetly from her shoulders to her neck until he
cups her face, but Nesta feels so tight - so tense in that hold. His
little spitfire in all that raging spirit always. It makes him feel
light as air. “I’d really prefer it if you didn’t die, hmm?”
eyes soften for just a moment, her shoulders slumping. She dances up on
the tips of her toes again and Cassian thinks she might lean into him
finally, maybe even kiss him the way she sometimes does after she’s been
flying for the day and the wind has left her breathless and she takes
Cassian home to discover entirely new ways of feeling the rush flying
creates in them both…
But just when her lips graze his own, Nesta teases out, “I said again, Commander,” and Cassian curses, “So we go again.” And Nesta can tell by how close they’re standing that Cassian’s other Illyrian skills are kicking into overdrive.
takes a great breath, adjusting his stance and likely certain other
parts beneath his pants, but releases his hold on her. “Alright, Ness.
We go again.”
They do. And with the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin, it is heaven.
Cassian insists they limit themselves to ten more minutes only.
Request: I can’t really think about an actual story plot but maybe yoongi getting you pregnant and he chickens out… Aw This is such a bad description but since you’re an amazing writer ypu can pull it off better ☺💖 thank you!
Pairing: Yoongi + Reader
Word Count: 1.841
A/N: you’re so sweet omg and of course it’s a good description! I hope I made it similar to the way you wanted it to be
Kneeling on the cold bathroom floor, your bare legs had goosebumps spread all over your skin, acknowledging the icy tiles. Hair hold back by one of your hands while the other one stabilized your weak body, your forehead collapsed against the toilet stool. Hasty breaths left your slightly open mouth while cold sweat pearled down your face and back.
What is happening to me?
You took a deep breath before sitting up straight enough to not feel like an old grandmother having back problems. Grabbing some pieces of toilet paper, you wiped over your mouth before throwing it into the toilet and flushing it down to God knows where.
Closing the toilet seat, you slowly stood up, turning your body towards the sink, opening the faucet. For a few seconds you let the water run so it could turn completely cold before holding both of your hands underneath it, splashing the icy water into your face. Reflexively, your lungs screamed for air as the cold water hit your face but you just ignored it.
It’s just cold water, calm down.
Grabbing your toothbrush, you brushed your teeth quickly, examining yourself in the mirror in front of you above the sink. Your eyes were encircled by dark bags, skin white as the snow that had already melted away weeks ago. Your hair had lost its healthy shine and just hung there loosely, like overcooked spaghetti noodles.
Sighing deeply, you finished up your cleaning up and walked back into your bedroom, grabbing for your phone. You had to check the calendar before making any overly fast assumptions about your symptoms.
Opening the calendar app, you scrolled back to the last month.
Date of last period: February 16th
Current date: April 17th
Two months since your last period. Two months since mother nature forgot to visit you and make your life horrible. Oh how you wished, Satan had nested in your uterus in those last two months instead of sitting there in that exact moment, wondering how the hell you got into this situation.
“Two fucking months….”, you mumbled to yourself. “I need to get a test.”
With those words being said, you grabbed your keys and coat, storming out of your tiny apartment, down the street to the pharmacy. Strangers pushed their bodies into yours while trying to pass you but you didn’t notice. All you could think of was if you were ready to get some answers. You needed to know why you were feeling so miserable since weeks but at the same time you were scared. Scared that your assumptions would be true and you’d have to tell Yoongi. Scared that he’d flip and leave you alone. So many things could happen and you weren’t ready to figure out what else could ruin your life. But you had to.
Pushing the door open, the smell of disinfectant hit your nose, making you scrunch it in disgust. You never liked the smell of disinfectant. It reminded you of hospitals and that again reminded you of death. Not the nicest connection one could think of. That’s why you tried to stay away from that smell.
Walking up to the pharmacist who looked like she was about to fall asleep any second, you silently prayed that she wouldn’t ask any further questions like aren’t you a little too young to ask for a pregnancy test? where’s the father? do you know who the father is? you should have been more careful, young lady. You really didn’t need that crap right now.
“Excuse me”, you politely asked the woman. “C-can I have one of those pregnancy tests?”, you signaled at the white sticks behind the lady as she turned around to see where you were pointing at. They were the cheapest ones you could see and the only ones you could afford as a college student.
The pharmacist smiled at you and leaned a little closer to you. “Of course, but I wouldn’t recommend those - they’re usually wrong or don’t work at all.”
Then why are you selling them at all? “Oh.. well I guess it’ll have to do, those are the only ones I can afford right now”, you faked a laugh as she handed you the test and you gave her the money. Her expression was pitiful but not judging. More like a mother feeling sad for a child.
“Is there a bathroom around here? I don’t think I can wait until I’m back home”, you mumbled and the lady showed you the way to go.
After finishing your business, you waited in the cabin for the 10 minutes you were supposed to wait, anxiously biting down on your lip.
What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? I can’t take care of a baby yet. I can barely take care of myself!
As the 10 minutes went by, you decided that you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t look down at the result by yourself. You needed someone to do it for you. So you walked out of the bathroom back to the pharmacist, who was looking at you questioningly.
“Would you mind- would you mind, telling me what is says?”, you asked hesitantly. “I can’t bring it over myself to do it.”
She smiled at you and nodded. “Sure, turn it around sweetheart, so I can see the bars.”
You turned the stick to her and bit down on your lip hard. Your heart rate increased and nervous sweat started to spread out all over your body.
The lady took a look and then she seemed to struggle with a fitting facial expression. “I don’t know if you’re going to be happy about this new or not, but it’s positive”, she decided to smile at you warmly as your stomach dropped.
“Positive?”, you whispered, looking down on it yourself. There it was. A pink cross. Or plus. Or whatever you want to call it.
“I- it can’t-”, you stuttered as your eyes filled with tears. You didn’t even care to wipe them away at that point.
“Oh no dear, don’t cry”, the pharmacist said. She turned around and grabbed another package, a fancier looking one and discreetly slid it over the table. “Shh don’t tell anyone but here - take this one. These are about 89% of the time right unlike the one you just took. Take it with you and do the test when you’re calmed down, okay?”
You looked up at her and shook your head under tears. “B-but I can’t afford that one.”
The lady smiled at you again and pushed it closer to you. “It’s fine. It’s on the house”, she winked and giggled, making you smile at her thankfully.
“No go, rest and take the test”, you nodded at her words, mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before rushing back to your apartment.
Maybe you still had a chance.
“What do you mean ‘you’re pregnant’? We always used protection (Y/N)!”, Yoongi screamed in disbelief, brushing his hands through his hair in frustration. “You can’t be pregnant. It’s impossible.”
You rolled your eyes at him and laughed bitterly. “As long as your not sterile and I’m not infertile, I can always get pregnant Yoongi. Condoms can rip and the pill doesn’t work 100%.”
“Fuck!”, he yelled, throwing his phone against the sofa, making you flinch. You had expected him to react pissed or at least not really happy but you never thought, he’d flip like he did.
“Yoongi…”, you approached him, trying to calm him down, needing him to calm down to be calm yourself and not have a complete breakdown.
“Don’t touch me (Y/N)”, he growled.
“No ‘buts’! This ruins everything, you realize that right? Everything I worked for so hard these last couple of years. Everything I ever wanted, all ruined because of this fucking mistake”, his voice was as cold as ice as his eyes stared at you, burning not only your body to pieces but your soul as well.
“Yoongi, yes it’s very inconvenient, you can call it a mistake even. But we’re in this together, we can’t change it. But we can go through this together”, you whispered through tears, trying to approach him again. You needed his support more than ever but all he seemed to do was to push you further away.
“It’s not only this pregnancy that is a mistake. This whole relationship was a mistake. I should have never started dating you, then it would have never gotten this far. I would have stayed focused on my work and only my work, not even having the slightest possibility for this to happen. Now what? The fans don’t even know about you! But all of sudden I have a girlfriend and a baby? They’d force me to marry you because we live in fucking Korea and you don’t just get kids without being married yet. My whole life would be ruined!”, by now he was screaming, fuming, running around the house uncontrollably, grabbing things here and there.
His words hit you worse than any weapon could as the meaning behind it sunk in. He thought you were the mistake. You were ruining everything. Everything that was important to him. He hated you in that moment, you felt it.
You sunk to the floor, sobs escaping your lips as tears streamed down your face and your lungs were searching for air. Hysterical sobs left your mouth as your hands covered your face and your body curled up into a tiny frame.
“Yoongi please!”, you screamed out, lifting your head for a second, only hearing him going through your wardrobe in your bedroom. “I can’t do this without you! I’m a broke college student, I’m alone here, I don’t have anybody else but you!”
His figure appeared back in the door frame to the living room, a packed bag slung over his shoulder. “You should have thought about that before starting a relationship with me.”
Hastily you stood up as his body walked past you, towards your front door. Your fingers enclosed his arm, pulling on it, so he would stop. When he did and turned around, you saw the hurt and guilt in his eyes for a second before his gaze turned back to ice. You knew he cared. He cared but he was also impulsive and his impulse told him that his career was more important.
“Yoongi, you don’t want that. You love me. You can’t just leave me like this, you’re more than this awful egoistic asshole”, you brokingly sobbed, still holding onto his arm, eyes begging him to stay.
He shook his head, ripping his arm free from your grip. “I guess you don’t know me that well after all then.”
With that, he pushed you off him, slamming the door shut without giving you one last glance, as you glanced after his figure in disbelief, a deadly pain spreading across your chest and stomach, making you gasp for air as more tears covered your face, leaving physical marks of the pain your were feeling.
He watched helplessly as she paced back and forth across the room. “I really think you should calm down.”
She whipped her head towards him. “Calm down? Calm Down?! I think you should calm up! How could you just say something like that and expect me to be calm?”
He sighed heavily clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, slightly irritated. “I mean, I knew there would be some sort of outlandish reaction, but I didn’t think you would freak out like this.”
“Well, excuse me, Harold, but you can’t just tell me,” she looked around and dropped her voice an octave as if someone were near them, “you love me and expect me to act like it’s no big deal!”
He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to act like it’s no big deal, but if you could stop acting as if I told you I was going to launch missiles at North Korea that’d be great.”
She took a few deep breaths and sat on the couch to gather her thoughts. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. But, just… how… did this… happen?”
“Have you met you?“
"I don’t like people, Harry, of course I’ve met me. I spend more time with me than anyone.”
He sat down beside her, sure not to crowd her space, as he was questioning her sanity. “The first time I realised I liked you was when we were playing checkers and you were losing and you flipped over the board before I could jump you again.”
She crinkled her nose at him and let out a short laugh. “Ew, why?”
He huffed. “I don’t know it was really cute and funny and you just pretended like the whole game never happened. And, it was just… I don’t know, I saw you in a different light like I wanted to have game nights like that all the time.” His eyes shifted around the room, nerves radiating off of him. “The first time I realised I loved you was when my album dropped, and you sent me your reaction to every song via text and there were voice notes and videos. I still have them saved in my phone. I just remember going through them all the next morning before I went to interview with Grimmy and thinking ‘wow, I love her,’ and I meant it.”
Her jaw dropped. “Jesus, H. I just, uh, I need a moment. It’s a lot to take in.” Panic swelled within her and she stood in search of fresh air.
But, before she could get farther than a stephe grabbed her hand. “Listen, I know I shouldn’t be in love with you, but I am. Please tell me what I can do to get you there.”
She sat back down, his hand still firmly clasped to hers. “Harry, I just don’t think I’m in the position to get involved with something of this… calibre, at the moment.”
His entire face dropped. They stared at each other in silence for a few beats then he cleared his throat. “Before you reject me completely, can I try something?” He scooted closer until he could make out the flecks of colour in her irises and placed one hand on her cheek and the other on the side of her neck. “Is this okay?”
Her breath hitched as she nodded.
“Tell me if you feel anything. If you don’t, I’ll deal with all of this, but if you do, will you give me have a shot?"
She felt lightheaded, throat dry as their breaths intermingled in the close proximity. "Yeah,” she croaked out.
He slowly touched their lips together for a few moments. He pulled back just a couple inches and looked into her eyes. “Was that okay?"
She pulled him back in and deepened the kiss. That was all the response he needed.
Many people have asked for a second part of the scenario “You are really perfect” and despite being hesitant whether or not to do it, in the end I was able to write something.The first part went so well that I was afraid of not respecting expectations, but I still hope that this scenario will please you. Any feedback would be appreciated! - M.
Words count 2,4k+
Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner!
His slightly hoarse voice provoked a slight shiver that ran along your back, while he slightly moved away from you to turn the lamp on the bedside table next to the bed. The light illuminated above all his face and when you noticed the dark circles under his eyes all your negative thoughts vanished, you mentally cursed yourself for thinking for the umpteenth time he got tired of you.
He was just tired because of the work, you didn’t have to have those fears and despite your efforts, it was hard to live with them.
“Y/N..? Something is wrong..? ” He asked you, returning to lie down at your side and wrap his arm around your waist; “Your eyes seem worried..”
“No.. Nothing, just a bad dream. ”
Lying wasn’t in your character, but in those last six months, you had found yourself doing it more often. Only with him.
You had lied about that time, because of the stress, he had said horrible things again. You had lied that time, a few weeks later, when the photos with that girl and the following gossips had provoked fights on fights. The lies were getting more and more and even your fears, but you couldn’t talk about it with him. You couldn’t tell him you felt uncomfortable from that episode, even though you were perfectly fine.
You had begun to wear his clothes, to be much sweeter towards him, to fill him with your attention. And you kept doing it, but often his looks seemed to ask for pity. Almost as if he could not bear those attentions but was frightened to speak.
And that’s why you lied. Because you didn’t want to ruin your relationship and every time something happened your answer was always the same. “I’m fine, nothing happened.”
But now you were no longer sure of anything, especially yourself and your behavior.
Your thoughts were interrupted when the fingertips of his fingers began to brush your cheek, then slipping towards the forehead, moving the small bangs that you had grown in those weeks. His gaze, so full of love and devotion, was clearly sincere and you would call yourself a fool again for having listened to your fears.
He approached his face to yours and gently left a little kiss on your forehead, then one on the tip of your nose until he got to touch with his lips your own. Your breaths mingled for a fraction of a second, that wait was always your favorite part in your kisses, and when that softness rested on your mouth a whole world of sensations exploded inside you.
His mouth moved slowly but strangely greedy on yours, while your bodies sought and found themselves, intertwining in a position not too uncomfortable. His hand slid slowly under your shirt, slightly squeezing on your side and caressing with his fingers while the other was resting behind your nape; So that you wouldn’t move you he could deepen into that kiss.
And your heart began to beat at an illegal speed while your hands began to wander lightly against his shoulder, descending along his toned and well-defined back.
It was he who had to turn away in search of air, while your short breath broke against his smile that as always was able to make you dissolve within a few moments.
“Can we go back to sleep now..? Tomorrow I have so many things to do… ”
“S-sure.. But you can’t kiss me like that and then go back to sleep.. ”
“I promise that I will forgive” He chuckled, biting the tip of your nose by throwing himself on the mattress and letting you hide in his arms, as you have been doing every single night for two months.
That kiss had cleared those thoughts that woke you up in the middle of the night, but would have been able to erase them completely??
Your gaze rested on the façade of the big hit building and the feeling of Dejavu struck you with violence, while the episode of six months before was reposing in all its horror.
So, like some others in the fandom have mentioned, I’ve been
a bit perplexed why in RTTE Astrid has repeatedly fallen off of Stormfly in
battle. How is it that the same woman
could ride so expertly in HTTYD 2 while doing some pretty intense maneuvers
without any trouble?
Then I looked at her saddle in RTTE vs HTTYD 2. Notice a
Major design improvements: different shape, side grips, and a handlebar. This got me thinking… what prompted the additions to her
saddle? Here’s my take.
Back In The Saddle
Note: Takes place
during RTTE, sometime after the end of S4.
Hiccup stood outside the stable, fingers flexing at his
sides anxiously as he stared at the open door.
Chewing slightly at his lip, deep in thought, he didn’t notice the
curious look he received from the Night Fury beside him. Toothless’ emerald eyes flicked between his
rider and the stable, wondering why they didn’t just walk in. It was a beautiful day – perfect weather for
flying – and standing there doing nothing was wasting such precious time.
Growing inpatient, Toothless warbled, nudging his snout
against Hiccup’s hip.
“Oh, heh, sorry, bud”, he apologized sheepishly, placing his
hand on the dragon’s temple. “Just,
Lifting one ear in confusion, Toothless chuffed as he
Hiccup puffed his cheeks, blowing out a breath in
anticipation. “Wish me luck.”
Summary: Your motto has always led to bad choices.
A/N:i made this account to post this ( although it only follows the same plot now )
pls pls pls show me some support because i need that motivation!! Also my first smut?!! so any tips/feedback would be amazing
i know it says jungkook x reader but just trust me alright.
Always bite off more than you can chew.
This motto had started innocently when you had been much younger; you had been challenged to an eating competition which ended with your choking on a mouthful of spaghetti. If only the problems that motto caused had stayed innocent, but now you were choking on something thicker than your favourite childhood meal.
He gasped, searching for an ounce for air. However, he in took too much at once and he started having a coughing fit. He quickly sat up and let himself ride out the coughing, his throat was on fire and his heart was pounding.
Kirishima felt his head having flashbacks to the nightmare he just had, as if someone was replaying it for him to endure. He shook his head and drew his eyes over to your sleeping form on his bed. You were alive, you were breathing, you were okay.
“Stupid dream,” He muttered as he saw you rumbling in your sleep. He inched his hand to your face to brush your hair behind your ear. Your eyes slowly fluttered open to meet his gaze. “Ah sorry! Go bed to sleep,” He snatched his hand away as if embarrassed.