so i have a deeper well to draw from when drawing new faces

The Ultimate Test

A/N: It’s 3 AM and I decided to not sleep and write this instead. I missed my one year fic-i-versary (it was the 21st) so pretend that this is written for that. Thank you guys for everything you have done for me and for making me feel so loved - I wouldn’t be where I am today without you all. I hope you enjoy this.

Summary: Your relationship with Spencer has had its ups and downs like any normal marriage, but it is put to the test when Spencer gets put on trial for murder. (Think 12x15)

Word Count: 1500 ish

Warnings: Season 12 spoilers (It’s kind of crucial that you at least have a little idea of what’s happening in the show before reading this). Angst.

Originally posted by caliciaporter

Being Spencer Reid’s wife was like a dream come true.

He constantly showered you with his love, left you little love notes all around your apartment, and stole kisses from you when you made breakfast. When he was out on a case, he would always be sure to send you something. Whether it be a single long stemmed rose or a bag of your favorite candy, even when he was away he would make sure that you knew that he was thinking about you. The love you had for each other was unwavering and everlasting, as it was stated during your wedding ceremony. Nothing could change that.

The way he loved your daughter, Brynn, made you fall in love with him even more. He video-called the two of you when he was away and spent every waking minute that he was home with her. Spencer would do anything to make her smile. That little girl had her father wrapped around her little finger.

Being Spencer Reid’s wife was no easy task.

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Ocean soldier (Part 2 out of?)

(A/N): I seriously love mermaid Bucky *sobs* 

Summary: (Y/N) happens to come across a rather friendly mermaid

Warnings: none for the time being?

Read the first part: X

(Tags at the end)


Originally posted by lowkeysebastianstan

   (This gif has me feeling so many things??) 

   You had been reluctant to go home that day, you had thoroughly enjoyed your visit with Bucky. The two of you talked…well you had done most of the talking while he sat there in the water and looked at you, occasionally grabbing the pad and pencil to write something to you. You had even managed to get him to crack a smile, not one of the small ones from earlier but a full on wide, toothy grin. It had been adorable…at first, that was until you got a glance at his sharp, jagged teeth. They almost reminded you of shark’s teeth only scarier given they were on a human being and not a marine animal. Something about this guy was seriously off, you knew that much, between the webbing and teeth and the constant need to stay in the water you had figured he was…strange to say the least. These should have scared you away, you should have run as soon as he appeared the second time but you didn’t, instead you sat down on the docks and talked to him until he had to abruptly scurry off at the first sign of people. These were all red flags, you should have talked to someone or reported this man to the police and yet again you didn’t and now here you were, the following day sitting on the dock awaiting for your friend to appear. 

   You doodle a bit, no longer focused on the sunrise as much as your water loving friend who had yet to make an appearance this morning. You gently sketched a face, one with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, you doodle some hair, long and matted with water but still gorgeous but what you truly focused on was the eyes. They had to be perfect, they had to capture the essence of curiosity and innocence but they also had to have a deeper, darker tone to them, one that implied this man- whomever he was- had a secret, or a darker side. 

   A soft coo is what pulls you away from your drawing but you don’t even have to look up to know it was. You set your drawing pad aside as you smile at Bucky who smiled right back, showcasing those jagged, knife like teeth. 

   “Hey Bucky,” You murmur quietly, as though scared to break the soothing sounds of the early morning sea. Bucky hums softly as he assumes his regular position, his head tucked upon his folded arms as he looks up at you. Your eyes rake over his form, stopping at his neck as you survey the slices of flesh, moving in time with each breath he took. They sure as hell looked like gills…but that- that wasn’t possible, human beings couldn’t have gills…could they?  Bucky hums again as he looks at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Guess he’d caught your rather curious gaze “Sorry, um uh- I was just staring at your-” You gesture to his neck, sighing rather loudly. “Okay Bucky, what the hell are those things?” Bucky reaches up with a webbed hand to touch the skin, running his fingers along the ripped flesh before setting his hand back against the dock, looking rather sheepish. “Oh god Bucky-” You sigh, knowing you’ve offended him again with your ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just-” You gesture to your own neck, revealing the not ripped flesh. “Mine’s different again, see?” Bucky looks back up, his blue eyes traveling over the expanse of your neck. “Do you…do you wanna touch it?” Bucky nods as he leans up a bit, pulling himself up just enough to expose his bare chest. Your eyes rake over his skin, taking in ever piece of smooth, water covered flesh. God- this man…or whatever he is- was beautiful. 

   Bucky makes a little impatient sound in the back of his throat, making grabby hands at you when he realized he couldn’t quite reach your neck. You smile as you lean down a bit, allowing his cool hands to graze your skin. The feeling was…different than expected; his fingers were cool to the touch and most definitely wet but they felt good against your skin. You hum softly as Bucky touches your neck, feeling the difference between your neck and his own. 

   “See? Different right?” Bucky purses his lips and nods, staring down at his own body in what appeared to be shame. Whatever was below the water he obviously didn’t want you to see, the most he had exposed to you was his upper body and even that was strange, you could only imagine what it looked like down below. “Bucky?” You whisper, biting your lip as you contemplate whether the question was worth asking. The man hums as he finally retracts his hand, apparently satisfied with his little inspection. “Can I ask you something kinda of…personal?” Bucky looks at you with squinted eyes, the distrust on his face obvious but nonetheless he nods. “Um, are you- are you human?” Bucky looks up at you with an almost frightened expression, his eyes wide and lips parted. But before you can even begin to repair the damage he disappears, ducking down below the surface just as he had done yesterday. “Wait Bucky!” You cry out as you lean forward, searching the waters desperately but there was no sign of him, the only thing that would have hinted that he was here was by the way the dock was covered in rivulets of water, most likely from his dripping hair. 

   You slump back onto the dock, looking at the waters in surprise. How could he have just disappeared like that? And why did he just disappear like that? You bite your lip in thought as you scan the waters, waiting for any sign of your new friend but there seemed to be none. Even after five minutes you saw no sign of your friend, then ten rolled around, then 20, then 40, but by the time the beach had started to sprout a family or two you realized Bucky wasn’t coming back. You sighed softly as you stood from the dock, grabbing your sketch pad and pencil in disappointment. As you waddled away from the dock you looked back, hoping to catch some glance of your friend but there was none, only the boats and sea so with another sigh you keep on waddling, trying not to let your spirits hurt too much. 


   You returned the next day, with your sketch pad and pencil, awaiting for Bucky. You waited for 3 fucking hours. 3 hours of just sitting and waiting for Bucky to show up. The sun rose, the people arrived and yet here you were waiting all alone on the docks. 

   You sigh as you drag your pencil along your paper, creating nonsensical lines and scribbles. It looked as though Bucky wasn’t going to show this morning and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault but you’d remedy this, you’d get Bucky to come back around. 


    For the next two weeks you kept up the same routine, showing up with your sketch pad and pencil, waiting for your strange, water loving friend to show but he never did. The countless hours you spent on those docks waiting for him were painful, they have you time to think about him. Even if you had only known him for 3 days you couldn’t help but feel attached to him and now suddenly he had disappeared. And yet here you were, the third week, and still sitting on the dock waiting for him. This time you had brought your guitar and you were gently strumming on it, humming a solemn song yourself. If you were going to wait out here for hours on end for your non existent friend to show up you had better bring something to entertain yourself since drawing wasn’t doing it for you anymore. 

   You strummed and plucked multiple songs, slowly but surely making your way through every tune you knew how to play. By the time you were done your fingers were aching and the sounds of the beach had gone strong; It had to be noon by the time you finished and surprise, still no sign if Bucky. God- why would he just leave you like this? Why wouldn’t he come back or at least tell you why he had left? Perhaps it was you? Maybe he was tired of you and didn’t want to see you anymore? Perhaps your insistent questions had angered him? 

   A million questions swirl around your mind until you can barely think anymore, your head to jumbled with “maybe’s” and “what if’s”. God- you had really fucked this up. For once you actually liked someone and then you went and fucked it up. If only you had kept your mouth shut, if only you hadn’t been so annoying, if only you could have been better. Tears burn at your eyes and before you know it you’re crying, your tears sliding off and hitting the watery docks. You were so pathetic, you knew a guy for 3 days and then he leaves and you’re this heart Broken? You bury your face in your hands, crying into them like some pathetic cry baby, which you were; The negative thoughts don’t mix well with your already strong feelings of frustration and regret. 

        Your crying is only spurred on by your negative thoughts, both your frustration and self hate brewing together to create the ‘beautiful’ mixture of tears you were experiencing right now. And that’s when you hear it, a gentle but soothing coo amongst the sound of ocean waves and the distant beach goers. You don’t even want to look up for the fear of the noise only being your imagination but suddenly there’s that strange but pleasant hand on your leg, gripping your leg gently. The coo comes again, this time a bit louder and persistent, almost as though Bucky was trying to grab your attention. Even with all your frustration and anger you look up, sniffling a bit as you do. 

    “Bucky…” You sniffle softly, hesitantly meeting the man’s gaze. He coos once again, his bright blue eyes very intently looking at your face. You bite your lip as you look at him, feeling even more pathetic than you did before. You can’t look into those ocean eyes any longer, your shame and embarrassment getting the better of you as you turn your head away from him but before you can there’s a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away at your tears. You look back at Bucky in surprise, his hand feeling pleasant against your own wet cheek. This the most Bucky had ever touched you, other than when he had touched your neck and hands but this was- this was something else; this was more than those observatory touches, this was something more intimate. You sigh softly, allowing your eyes to flutter close as Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, collecting each tear that fell- however they don’t remain closed for long when they’re suddenly shooting back open in surprise. 

   “Please don’t cry…” 


@kaitlynmalikisnotonfire, @alienboi3299, @rejecteddesire, @saradi1018, @jessevans, @floral-and-fine, @notsoprettykitty, @yo-yo-bro-bro, @imamoose, @nobody8990, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @iamwarrenspeace, @ruby-rose89 (If I have forgotten to tag you please contact me so I can add you!) 

Reggie Mantle x Reader - request

anonymous asked:

Can you do an imagine where you’re Archie sister and you’re dating Reggie. Someone lets it slip that you lost your virginity to him and he tells Archie “sorry I took your sister virginity won’t happen again” and Archie punched him and a fight breaks out


Warnings: Some sexual content

FYI: I changed the prompt a little in order for it fit the setting I made up for it. Hope you like it and thanks for the request!


You hurried down the stairs, “Okay dad, I’m off to Veronica’s!”

He stopped you from running out the door, “You’re staying over at her place right?”

“Yeah Dad”, you could hear your brother was coming down the stairs a little bit behind you.

“Where are you going?”, your dad had finally gotten off the couch wearing his classic plaid.

“Pop’s with Jughead”. You looked at your brothers red hair, that matched yours, and noticed it had looked more styled than usual.

“Alright, just don’t stay out too late”. Your dad sat back down and you both went out together. You were a year older than Archie, but people seemed to know him more ever since becoming Captain of the football team. The one plus side of that was that now everyone was nice to you. Veronica was nice to you before that though. Well so was Betty, but you always saw her more like a sister that just lived next door.

You flipped the car keys in your hand, “So are we both going to the same place?”

“How’d you know?”, Archie gave a small laugh.

“Your hair doesn’t look that nice unless your planning to see someone, and I don’t mean Jughead”. You had watched both of them grow up together, and for the longest time got along better with Jughead than your own brother. But since your mom left, you two had been closer. Archie opened up to you about his music and you told him you wanted to go to art school. Your friends were finally starting to intertwine, so it was nice having your brother be your friend as well.

You laughed, “come on”. You both jumped in the truck and you were on your way. “So, am I getting Jughead too?”.

“Yeah, he’s waiting at Pop’s. I convinced him to come though, not really his crowd”.

“Heh, I see what you did”, he gave a questionable look. “You didn’t actually lie to dad, that’s why you didn’t look guilty”, you gave him a slight pat in his arm. “You have learned MY ways”.

You had finally made it to Pop’s. “Jughead! Get in! My sister’s driving us!”, Archie screamed from the truck until Jughead looked up.

“Hey Y/N. Were you already going?” the beanie clad boy jumped in.

“Yeah, Ronnie invited me”. Another thing you shared with Archie was calling Veronica “Ronnie”. She said it was an “Andrew’s thing”.


You had finally made it to Veronica’s. Her mom was out for the weekend and she decided to use the large space for the “best party Riverdale has ever seen” - to use her words.

You left your bag in the car and went in with Archie and Jughead.

You were greeted by Veronica and Betty, both of whom had already dawned red cups. “You’re here!”, you weren’t sure if Ronnie was talking to you or Archie seeing as she seemed to get a little flushed. You gave her a look of curiosity.
Ronnie then dragged you to the kitchen and you began to make a drink for yourself. You’d rather have something with vodka in it than a beer. You saw Archie and Jughead grab a beer and go to a wall to talk. You figured your brother was old enough to take care of himself at this point. Betty followed them out of the kitchen.
Ronnie was then greeted by Moose who had Reggie two steps behind him. Moose seemed a little drunk already.

“Hey Veronica, Y/N”, Reggie greeted you with cup in hand. You blushed slightly.
“Sooo….shots?”, Ronnie started pulling some small glasses out of a cabinet behind her and began to fill them up with some rum. You could tell that Ronnie wanted an escape for the night from anything surrounding her parents.

You all tapped glasses before taking your drink back. Moose and Ronnie decided to do another while both Reggie and you passed. You had your cup back in hand and Reggie asked you to dance. You were a little surprised. You weren’t sure if Reggie had even noticed you at this point.

You went out and started dancing to a playlist that Ronnie had obviously picked herself.

The main area had music roaring. You glanced behind you and saw both Archie and Betty trying to drag Jughead out on the dance floor. You gave a small laugh.

Your eyes went back to Reggie. “SO WHAT ARE YOU ALWAYS DRAWING?!”, he was screaming over the music now.

Your blushed cheeks came back. “MOSTLY STILL LIFE’S, AND THE OCCASIONAL PORTRAIT!”, you shouted back so he could hear you.

“YOU’LL HAVE TO SHOW THEM TO ME SOMETIME!”, he seemed rather genuine in his remark.

“I DIDN’T THINK YOU NOTICED!”, you didn’t draw everywhere around school, just when you had free time. “HOW COULD I NOT?!”, he said this while looking you up and down quickly and then gave a sweet smile. This went on for a little bit and with each song you both moved closer to each other. He’d twirl you with hand every once in a while and you’d laugh. Until he did it one last time and kept holding it.

Out of nowhere the music had changed to a slower song. He looked at your eyes slowly and you decided to go close to him. His hands were on your hips and he would carefully but quickly glance at your lips when he got the chance. The song had ended and the strong rhythmic beat of something fast had returned. “You want to go somewhere?”. He didn’t need to shout anymore because he was close enough to you. You had an idea where this was leading. And while you had dated other guys before, and Reggie would be beyond your first kiss, you knew he was leading you to something new. However, you had a crush on Reggie for years. He was always cordial to you, even before Archie had become popular. He was tall and had a great smile - and you couldn’t help finding something sincere in him. You thought if you were going to do this, it might as well be with a guy you had liked for years. You nodded and he led your hand down a hallway. He grabbed your hip and led you to one of Ronnie’s guest rooms. You made sure Archie hadn’t seen you leave the dance area. Before getting to the door, Reggie had paused in front of it. He looked a little nervous until he grabbed the side of your face and brought you in for the kiss. The first part of it was sweet. Small but long. And then his kiss went deeper, passionate. He began to open the door while still having you on his lips.

You went in and he closed the door behind you. His eyes went to the bed before meeting back to yours, “you okay with this?” You went up to his body, setting your drink down on a table, and grabbed his neck. Bringing him into your lips to kiss passionately. 

Before you knew it you were laying on the bed with Reggie’s hands up your shirt. Your breathing got heavier as he was kissing your neck. “You…you have something?”. 

 “Yeah…”, he pulled a condom out of his pocket and you took off your shirt before tugging at his. 

 “Just…just go slow”. The words escaped your mouth and he nodded before his lips met yours again.


 You laid there for a few minutes with Reggie. Panting a little. He was gently rubbing your stomach with his hand. “Should we go back out there?”, his breath had finally caught up with him. 

 “Yeah. Just give me a few minutes”. You kissed him again before he got up to grab his pants. You began to dawn your clothes back on. 

“You go first, I’ll meet you back out there in a second”. 

 “Alright ”, he gave you a big smile before coming into to give you another passionate kiss. 

 He left the room and you adjusted your clothing in the mirror, making sure you didn’t look too disheveled. You took a moment for yourself, questioning if you had looked any different. You didn’t think so. You also didn’t feel too different besides a little exhausted. You fixed the rest of your hair before grabbing your drink back. You took a deep breath and opened the door again. 

With the music still raging you figured it hadn’t been that long. You made your way back to the kitchen. Mixing a new drink while glancing at Reggie who was back on the dance floor with Moose. You turned around and saw Chuck, who gave you a long wink. Your heart sank a little but decided to shrug it off. You turned around and you could hear two people yelling at each other. You heard Reggie now shouting, “Sorry I took your sister’s virginity. It won’t happen again!”. You could see him making motions and joking with Moose in front of Archie. Your ran up to the commotion but before you could reach your brother *wham*. Reggie was on the floor. You pulled your brother away before Reggie got back up until you heard another *wham* behind you. Now Jughead was the one over Reggie’s bloody face.

EVAK FANFICS RECS / PART 6

 ONESHOTS:

  • cards and drunken propositions by Bellakitse  
    Summary: “Eskild, please tell me I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of Even,” Isak begs, groaning when Eskild winces theatrically. “Oh, god, what did I do?” “You mean besides rubbing yourself against him like a cat and started taking your clothes off?” Eskild asks tentatively, giving him a pitying look when Isak lets out a noise of death and mortification. “If it helps he seemed to be enjoying your…attention?” * Isak doesn’t remember the night before but he knows he made a fool of himself in front of this crush.

  • I Don’t Know About You, But I Could Think Of A Metaphor Or Two by i_once_wrote_a_dream
    Summary: He knows he’s fucked up. Crazy. Literally. Clinically insane.

  • sugar spreads happiness by Bellakitse 
    Summary: Isak and Even try to bake cupcakes for kose, this time no one interrupts their time in Isak’s kitchen.* Set after the almost kiss of episode three.

MORE UNDER THE CUT

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Binary Star (IV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jaebum / Mark

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3,749

Summary: In some cases, these close binary systems can exchange mass, which may bring their evolution to stages that single stars cannot attain.”

You and Jaebum have been dating forever when Mark Tuan shows up in your classroom. You’ve always been against change - a bit debilitating, being a writer - but for some reason this new kid has you thinking there might be an upside to chaos.

Originally posted by myjaebutt

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archiveofourown.org
Sense - Ellessey - Haikyuu!! [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

For KuroDai Week 2017, Day 8: Mythical Creatures/Super Powers

Summary: Daichi has never met another person like him before, someone he doesn’t have to hide his abilities from. But the first day at a new school, surrounded by the same normal faces, he finally meets someone different.


This will be Daichi’s seventh time as the new kid, so it’s not like it’s something he doesn’t know how to do. It’s all just a matter of blending in, finding the patterns and fitting himself inside them, and that’s something he has years of experience with.

It gets tiring though, following this routine. Leaving when he slips up, because somehow he always does, and starting out again in a different place, with a new set of people who are all the same. The same as the ones at his last school, the same as each other. All of them cut from the same cloth, except for him.

Daichi is different. Daichi can crack the earth with his anger, he can shape the soil without lifting a hand. When he laughs, if he isn’t focusing hard enough on his control, pebbles will rise up and dance with his voice.

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A New Friend

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader
Requested: Yes
Warnings: this revolves around Y/N having social anxiety, there’s a panic attack, and light cursing
A/N: I personally do not have social anxiety, so I’m basing this off of what I’ve read and heard from my friends. If I got this wrong I’m very sorry, but I hope you enjoy it!
Word count: 1642

——————————

“Hey, Bellamy, is that group back from the hunting trip yet?” You hear one of the delinquents ask. You already know the answer. No, they’re not. If they were, your best friend Alex would have already run up to you to tell you all about the adventures he had while venturing past the almost finished walls.

You’d been friends with him since you were both children on the ark. The two of you had been neighbors. It’s always been hard for you to talk to people and put yourself out there, but with Alex everything just seemed to naturally flow between the two of you. Alex was great at making conversation, but could also enjoy the silence you two shared when you just didn’t know what to say. He understood how hard it could be for you to talk sometimes. At one point your social inefficiency worried your parents so much they took you to see Dr. Griffin. She came to the conclusion you had social anxiety. She wanted to give you medication, but couldn’t due to the fact that it wasn’t a life threatening disease. You would just have to deal with it.

So that’s how your life proceeded on the Ark. You kept to yourself during the day at class, but when you got back to your room you finally came out of your shell around Alex. He was, and still is, your anchor. Everybody thought you were weird, treated you like an outcast really, because of how difficult it was to talk to them. You have no idea how you would have gotten through everything life has thrown at you without him. He’s been there for you through it all– your mom getting sick, you getting arrested after you tried to steal medicine for her, her dying, and he even got himself arrested so you wouldn’t be in the Sky Box by yourself.

Then it all seems to come crashing down around you, as you stop reminiscing. They weren’t back yet. They’d been gone since morning, and right now the sun was on the verge of setting. This wasn’t good. Something must have went wrong, but what? Did they get lost in unknown territory by accident? Did grounders attack them? Your mind was racing, heart beating so fast you thought it was going to burst out of your chest.

You leave your job of sorting food, walking toward the drop ship. Once you’re inside you find a corner, and proceed to let the panic attack you’re having consume you. Your back is pressed against the wall, knees drawn to your chest, and arms hugging yourself as tight as you can. Deep breaths in and out, you think. That’s what Alex would always tell you when you got like this. It was no use, everything seemed to be spiraling out of control in your head. Tears started to roll down your cheeks, oh god, what would you do without him? He’s been your only friend for years, the only person who knew that you could be loud, funny, and even sarcastic. There’s something, or someone, making noise but you can’t focus on it. You feel yourself floating, no longer having your anchor to tie you down. Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder.

Murphy’s voice wafts through the air into your
ears, “Are you okay?”

That was weird. Murphy never gave a shit how other people were feeling. He was always yelling at people to get back to work, no matter what injury or illness they had acquired. For a second you wonder if you should say yes, but then he’s going to make you go back to work and you can’t in the condition you’re in. You shake your head side to side signaling no.

“I’ve been trying to ask you what’s wrong,” he says, still crouching next to you, with a hand on your shoulder. He must have been standing there for awhile, that’s the murmurs you pushed to the back of your mind. You keep expecting him to raise his voice at you, or spew derogatory comments your way. He doesn’t. Instead his voice is gentle, fingers drawing light, calming patterns where his hand is.

“A-Alex,” is the only world you’re able to get out of your mouth. Your breathing is still erratic, it’s calmed down since Murphy has given you something to think about other than your dark thoughts.

“Oh, the dude you’re always with. He’s on the hunting trip, right?” The first sentence he says sounds, disappointed? That can’t be right, why would Murphy, of all people, be disappointed you were worrying about your best friend.

“T-they’ve b-been gone, for a really lo-long time,” you stutter through the sentence, tears slowly stop falling from your eyes.

“That’s what you’re freaking out about? Y/N sometimes hunting trips take longer than half a day. Besides, they’re probably on their way back now with a huge amount of game,” he lowers himself next to you. His arm makes its way around your shoulders, so he’s pulling you into his side.

“You think so?” You whisper, looking up at him.

“I know so. So, stop worrying about your boyfriend, everything’s going to be okay.” His hand tightened the tiniest bit when the word boyfriend left his lips.

“Alex isn’t my boyfriend,” you tell him, glancing at him with a confused expression across your face.

“Okay, then what do you two call what you’ve got going on? You’re always with each other, and you only talk to him. It’s obvious you two have something going on behind closed doors,” Murphy explains as his signature smirk crosses his lips. You nudge him lightly, in a joking manner, with your shoulder.

“He’s my best friend, and I talk to only him because I’m bad with people. I want to have more friends but, I can’t. I freeze up when I talk to people,” your voice gradually gets quiter as you speak. You’ve been wanting to tell people that for years. You want them to know you’re not judgemental, just scared.

“Well, you’re talking to me. Actually, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard your voice. Ya know, for awhile I thought you were just a bitch that thought she was too good to talk to us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s because you were raised on alpha station. Your dad was a doctor, and your mom had a good chance of becoming chancellor in the future. There was no reason to dig deeper. Why would someone who’s always had it all want to associate with the good for nothing kids who’d committed crimes?” Murphy leaned his head back against the wall, eyes aimed at the ceiling. You saw his jaw clenching, he had hated you, you realize. The anger in this boy was monumental, the pain he held was just as large, but hidden.

“I don’t think that.” He looks over at you, your eyes lock. “That you’re good for nothing, or that I’m better than you. I kind of envy you actually. You can talk to people. Yeah sure, you mostly insult them, but I can’t even get a measly ‘hi’ out most of the time. Plus, some of you are here for the same reason I am, trying to help someone you love. And that’s not a crime.” Your speech comes to an end, and Murphy has gotten closer to you. His expression was calculating: watching the way your face moved as you talked, listening to the conviction in your tone, being aware of how close your bodies really were.

“Wow, that’s bullshit,” you can’t help but deflate a bit at his words. “You don’t envy me, just the way I communicate. Trust me, my life isn’t rainbows and butterflies. Also, if you haven’t noticed, you’ve been talking to me just fine for the pas-” Murphy’s sentence gets cut off.

Someone is screaming about how the hunting party is back. Before you can think you’re on your feet ready to run to them. You stop in your tracks, right as you were about to sprint, and turn to Murphy. You look at him for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to go back to the boy you thought you knew before this conversation. That is unnecessarily cruel, but now you know there’s some part of him that cares about others. Sure it might manifest in, unusual ways, but none the less it was still there. You take a chance, you hold out your hand offering to help him up.

“Well, are you coming?” You ask shooting him a small smile. He looks shocked for a second before concealing his emotions. He takes your hand.

“Don’t think this is going to get you special treatment, Doll,” he says slinging his arm around your shoulder before steering you two out of the drop ship.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” your voice is quiet, only he can hear your words. You don’t want to draw attention to the two of you, knowing what they’ll say. All caution is thrown into the wind when you see Alex. You run to him, engulfing him in a giant hug.

“Don’t ever leave me like that again,” you mumble, your face pressed into his shoulder.

“I won’t, I won’t. Now, what was that about?” Alex asks, head motioning over to the spot where Murphy stands. Once he notices the two of you looking at him, he diverts his gaze to the person next to him.

“We just talked,” you say with a smile.

“You? Talked? With someone besides me? And Murphy no less?” Your best friend continues to rattle off questions. All you can do is answer them one at a time while thinking about what this might mean, have you added a new friend to your list? Hopefully, you think.

anonymous asked:

(1/2) Related to your recent post: I swear, sometimes I feel like Kubo must often be thinking of an earlier version of YOI that was much more focused on the Yuri/Yuuri rivalry, a version we never saw, because she always focuses *so much* on their relationship in interviews, and how they constantly fuel and drive and feed off of each other, and seems to especially talk about Yuuri practically being fixated on some kind of strange 'sometimes friends sometimes rivals' intense connection there...

(2/2) and I’m always just like ??? Literally where was that on screen?! We saw *none* of that, Yuuri hardly gives any thought to Yuri over the course of the show at all- even Yuuri and Victor’s VAs responded to a question about what their chars. think of Yuri with something like ‘I don’t think they really think about him much at all to be honest’. It’s just such a weird dissonance between how she talks about the connection between Yuri and Yuuri, and how they were portrayed in the show

I love this conspiracy theory 

Seriously though, you’re so right, anon. And so is @angryfishtrap with what they say here

This dissonance is part of a series of oddities in Kubo’s interviews and how she talks about canon. Sometimes it feels like she’s describing a completely different series, and it’s particularly apparent when she’s talking about Yurio. 

Contrast how Sayo conceptualized YOI from the very beginning (as far back as 2010) to be about the bond between a Japanese skater and a foreign coach, with how Kubo seems much more focused in the (in canon one-sided) rivalry between Yurio and Yuuri and how she keeps dismissing the importance of Victuuri moments.

And it’s not simply that Sayo had just this vague concept by the time she met Kubo. Kubo herself said that Yuuri and Victor’s concepts (roles in the story and personalities) had already been created before she came into the project. They were the whole starting point. On the other hand, Kubo created Yurio. It’s not that much of a stretch to say she would be particularly attached to him. 

“(…)But after our first overseas research trip, the very first character I came up with was Yurio. Now that I think about it, the influence of anime from the latter half of the 1980’s pulsates strongly within me. Since that time, I’ve kind of liked brazen/cheeky characters with blond hair and blue eyes. So, since I was getting my hands into an anime original, I felt that I might as well go back to my roots and revive the characters I loved back then… In some ways, Yurio was born from entities that had become like my own flesh and blood, so he was very easy to write.” (x)

Kubo also keeps drawing attention to the Yuuri-Yurio rivalry and talking about it like it was the core relationship of the series when that’s really not what was shown on-screen. I’m reminded of when Yuri on Ice was first announced, it was said to be “the story of the two Yuris”, so much so that people interpreted the title to be about the both of them. But watching the series, not only is the title theory proven wrong in episode 4, but you quickly understand that Yuuri is the protagonist (even with Yurio + Victor being main characters too), and while Yurio is important and they do influence each other, Yurio is much more focused on Yuuri than vice-versa. Consider how Yuuri reacts in episode 4 when Yuko is giving him updated on Yurio.

He’s barely interested. And it’s not like he doesn’t care about Yurio - he clearly does - it’s just that, well Yuuri has more things going on in his life to worry about than his self-proclaimed 15 year old rival. According to Kubo though, he shouldn’t have. 

To me, these two quotes from Kubo say everything about her view on this (x):

“I had a hard time drawing the relationship between Yuuri and Yurio. Especially Yurio, I think he’s easy to grasp as a character and I was sure he would become popular, but for the same reason it was difficult to make him unpredictable. I wanted to depict him and Yuuri as rivals, however figure skating is mostly a battle against yourself, a sport where you fight to pursue your personal best, and after their direct confrontation in episode 3 they also become physically separated, so I was careful about the balance when making them think of each other.”

“(…)It was for the purpose of reinforcing the fated connection between Yuuri and Yurio, and to consequently cause the viewers to want to cheer on Yuuri in the Grand Prix Final. However, at the same time the bond between Yuuri and Victor became deeper and deeper, and as I couldn’t really find enough place to put the spotlight on the rivarly with Yurio eventually Yurio stopped moving inside my storyboard, to my surprise. In that sense, I had to struggle to depict Yuuri and Yurio’s relationship until the end.” 

“Fated connection” is really not something that was there in canon. At all. But Kubo seems to think this was a thing, and she says she struggled to keep depicting it until the very end. She really wanted them to be rivals, but it really wasn’t happening in canon. Yurio thought it was, but he’s 15 and angry and hurt over Victor leaving and doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions. But Yuuri? Yuuri is fighting himself and people’s expectations of him. And even for Yurio, later we have characters like JJ and Otabek that do a much better job at being a rival to him than Yuuri ever did.

It’s very interesting to think about the Victor part though because yeah, even in canon, Victor is constantly overshadowing Yurio when it comes to what Yuuri is thinking about. Meanwhile, Yurio is very much focused on Yuuri (and Victor). Let’s look at episode 4 again. When the assignments are out for the Grand Prix events, Yurio doesn’t ask for his own, he asks for Yuuri’s.

Yuuri meanwhile? Doesn’t ask about Yurio at all. He does think about him briefly when learning they will face-off in Russia…then immediatly focuses his attention on Victor. 

And then you have Kubo saying things like this

“I wanted viewers to remember “Hasetsu” as a place where Yuuri and Yurio could spend some carefree time” (x)

“I believe that, beside Victor, Yurio’s existence was also important in strengthening Yuuri’s feelings that he couldn’t end like that” (x)

“From Yuuri’s point of view it looks like Yurio suddenly has this new friend Otabek, and I think that he’d probably get really frustrated realizing that even if he’s not on the rink anymore Yurio will still be able to make other friends and rivals. Halfway through the story I often thought “Katsuki-san, aren’t you disregarding Yurio a bit too much?” (LOL)” (x)

So yes, it really feels like Kubo was much more interested in the Yuuri-Yurio dynamic and in Yurio overall.

I’m still 100% convinced that episode 12 was changed from what it was originally supposed to be. We can’t really know how those changes came about and why. But considering Sayo is a very busy person, considering Kubo has said she struggled with episode 12 the most to get scenes “right”, and considering episode 12 has that ridiculous sudden focus on the Yuuri-Yurio relationship to the point where it becomes the driving forces for Yuuri to decide to keep skating (contradicting Yuuri’s entire monologue during his FS btw), and everything Kubo has ever said in interviews about Yurio and the Yuuri-Yurio relationship…she was probably heavily involved in that episode, yes.

DannyMay Day Twenty Six: Unpopular Au/ Unpopular Headcanon

Sorry guys no fic today. I want to talk about the new video and why everyone needs to calm the heck down. So if you want to know what I think please take a look under the cut. If not, please enjoy my art.

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Colorblind

19k words

Amazing art by @hoalysmoaks​ and an incredible video by @proudstydiot​!!
Betad by @seren-mercury​, to whom I owe a huge thank you, you have been so patient and kind and I am endlessly appreciative of your feedback.
This fic was written for the Stydia Big Bang: shout out to the lovely admins @stydiamonth​, thanks so much for organising this event, and to @songof-light for creating the beautiful title card!
You can also read this fic on Ao3!!


Inspired by a lot of songs, but mainly Leona Lewis’s cover of Colorblind.
I also need to thank @hamabee​ and @imnotsureyetactually​ for reading over the fic and helping to keep me motivated, you guys are greater than I deserve.


Stiles Stilinski is in third grade when he falls in love with Lydia Martin.

And he knows it’s love, he really does, because when she briefly meets his eye across the playground one innocuous Tuesday the world around him blossoms into color.

He sees the shade of her hair for the first time, not quite red in the way that he’d imagined from his parent’s descriptions, but definitely red-ish. Maybe it’s closer to orange, or maybe even blonde, he thinks, but he won’t know for sure until he gets to see yellow, too, and it’s super rare to get more than one color at once. Red is enough for now, though.

The new color layers over his previously grayscale world and Stiles can see Lydia’s red hair, the light pink blush of her cheeks and the deeper pink of her lips. Stiles looks at Lydia and sees color, and it is beautiful.

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The Firebird - Chapter 24

Step 24: Fever

Here it is - The last chapter of The Firebird. It’s been quite a ride, right?

Thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, reviewed, commented. You can’t even imagine how good it feels to see you liked the story, this journey Katniss started discovering herself.

Thank you for indulging me with 23 chapter of (very) slow-burn…

Thank you very very very very much to @xerxia31 for her time in betaing this chapter - i <3 the side notes :)

To @akai-echo, the lovely and beautiful, who created 24 aesthetics for this story - you are awesome :)

A tiny little epilogue will be published next week, on TUESDAY for Love in Panem “Love is…” challenge

here on AO3 // FFN

The whirlwind of the after show took her by surprise. She was used to waiting for the dancers in the lobby of the Arena, and not to the cries and shouts that took place down near the locker room. Dancers were congratulating her, and each other, everybody had a kind word. Katniss tried to locate her belongings that had been  thrown haphazardly when Delly made her try on dresses. She wanted to make a quick exit and find her way home, to take a shower - a very cold shower - and be able to release all the tension that dancing with Peeta had elicited in her.

She never thought dancing could be so hot - and not because of the stage lamps or the temperature of the room. No, hot like her skin had been set on fire by the simple touch of his fingers or a brush of his lips, so hot the A/C coming on left shivers and goosebumps in its wake. It was so different from ballet, where technique was almost everything, where all steps were coded, where improvisation was almost a swear word.

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I Like You A Lot

It all started when John Laurens was five years old.

It was a Monday, he thinks. Then again, the memory was pretty fuzzy, having had happened years ago, but it had to have been on either a Monday, Wednesday, or a Friday because that was when his school was. He had just arrived in his usual kindergarten class when he saw a new face. Knowing everyone in his class extremely well, he immediately singled out the new kid, who was sitting at a desk in the corner with a book open in front of him. Everyone was playing around him, not even seeming to notice he was there. John frowned. Why wasn’t he playing too? He was about to go over and maybe invite him to play cars with him, or maybe show him the class’s turtle, but before he could reach him, his teacher called out that class was starting and John reluctantly returned to his seat.

Soon enough, it was free time, and John immediately set out for the coloring table. He sat down with one of his friends, and they chattered happily as they used their crayons and markers to, in her case, draw flowers, houses, her family, and in John’s case, turtles. Lots of turtles. The class pet fascinated him, and he would have spent hours with his nose pressed against the glass to stare at the turtle in the aquarium if he could have. They were laughing over something she had said as John reached for another paper, and then stopped as John’s little hand grabbed nothing. “Paper?” he said, confused. But all of the paper had been used up by the two.

The kindergartener looked at his scuffed up shoes and felt his eyes prickle with tears. Free time had always been spent drawing, and now, he couldn’t draw! As he was only a child, the small problem immediately crushed his world, and tears began to slip down his cheeks, “Hey, what’s wrong?” a small voice asked. John looked up to see the new kid standing in front of him.

John sniffed and wiped at his nose. “There’s no more paper… and I wanna draw more…”

The kid stayed quiet for a moment, then reached out to grab the papers that John had already drawn on. His eyes widened. “Wow! These are good!”

“Y-you like…?”

The kid nodded vigorously. “Could you draw me a tur-tle?” he asked, enunciating each syllable of ‘turtle’ as he attempted to pronounce the word right.

John’s face lit up, and then he frowned again. “No more paper,” he repeated sadly.

“You can draw on…” the boy trailed off as he looked around the room for something to draw on. “On… on me!” the boy finished up triumphantly. He rolled up his sleeves as far as they would go and held out his arm to John.

John cocked his head to the side. He had never tried drawing on a person before. Picking up a green marker, he lightly pressed it against the boy’s arm, then grinned at the marker slid smoothly across the skin. Soon, the boy’s entire arm was covered in turtles.

“John, I like you a lot,” the boy had said happily as John continued to scrawl little turtles on his arms and legs with his green marker.

At the end of the day, both of the young boys were sad to leave but brightened at the prospect of seeing each other tomorrow. Before John could turn to leave the classroom and go find his mom, the boy had quickly kissed him on the cheek. “See you tomorrow!” he had said brightly. John had felt his cheeks burn and something happen in his stomach. It was a weird, warm, fluttery feeling like he was sick but… a good sick. So good that nothing could take the smile off of his face on the car drive home.

“What’s made you so happy, John?” his mom had asked with a smile as they began to drive home.

“There was a new kid, he let me draw on him when there was no paper! He was really nice!”

“Oh, you were drawing on each other, were you?” Eleanor said with a small shake of her head, but she still was smiling. “I guess that means that it’s bath time for you!” she continued, teasingly.

John gasped. “No! He didn’t draw on me, so I don’t have to take a bath! Right?” he said hopefully.

“Honey, you can’t hide from me! The proof is literally on your arms! Bath time it is.” John looks at his arm in confusion, finally noticing the small turtles littering his skin. How had they gotten there? Figuring that the boy must have drawn them on his when he wasn’t looking, he shrugged it off and forgot about it. “This boy sounds very nice. Maybe we could have him over some time, on a playdate?” his mother suggested as they pulled into the driveway of their house.

“Maybe. He said he was only vis-i-ting,” John says importantly, the long word making him feel more grown up. “He said he was from… Ne…” he sighed, then shook his head. He couldn’t remember. “But he was really nice! He sat by me when out teacher taught us about sown-mates and…” he trailed off. “Do you have a sown-mate?” he asked curiously.

Eleanor had laughed. “Soulmate, dear. And yes, of course I do! Your daddy is my soulmate!”

“Because you love him a lot?”

“Yes, but it goes deeper than that. You and your soulmate are connected, well, by your soul! You share a deep bond with each other since the moment you are born. So deep that you can sense what the other is feeling, and you can-”

“Can you do the thing my teacher did? He drew a star on himself, and then a star appeared on his wife in the same spot! It was really cool!” John said excitedly.

His mother laughed. “Yes, honey, I can. Whatever happens to your soulmate’s skin, it also happens to yours. All those ink spots that appeared on your hand one day, all of those strange bruises that appear out of nowhere, that was your soulmate! Drawings, small notes, even cuts and bruises, appear on both of you! Although, any harm that either one receives only hurts the person who originally got them, for some reason.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s for the better. I wouldn’t want your father to get a broken arm if I ever slipped down the stairs or anything. The universe works in strange ways. Some people have soulmates that others consider 'mistakes,’ but I think that every love is beautiful and planned in its own way. Didn’t your teacher tell you all of this?”

“I was talking to the new kid,” John admitted. “But I listened to a bit!” he said hurriedly.

Eleanor laughed. “Well, you were certainly attached at the hip with this new kid today!”

“We played together all day! And he said that he liked me a lot and we shared a mat at nap time and he kissed me on the cheek!”

The car stopped in the garage, and John moved to unbuckle his seatbelt, but his mom turned around and held out a hand to stop him. “John, sweetie,” she began, her smile remaining on her face, but being a bit forced. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell daddy about that last part, okay? I bet he would love the hear the first part in greater detail!”

John cocked his head to the side. “Why not the last part?”

“He might take it the wrong way,” she said quietly, absentminded fixing the rearview mirror. “He’s always quick to jump on little things like that. He doesn’t see that you are only a kid, and I’m sure he’d get mad if he heard another boy kissed you.”

“But… daddy kisses you all of the time?” John said curiously. “Why would he get mad?” His mom unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, and John followed. He grabbed her hand, and before they reach the door to the house, she stopped and knelt down to look at her son at eye level.

“Kissing isn’t bad, John. But… some people get mad when boys kiss boys and girls kiss girls. Your daddy’s a good man, but he likes everything to be perfect. And if he thought you liked boys, he wouldn’t take that well. I mean, I can see that it was only an innocent kindergarten kiss, but he won’t see it that way. He wants you to follow in his footsteps, and he doesn’t want anything to get in the way of that.”

John cut her off, completely missing most of what she said because he was focused on one thing. “Boys can like boys?”

She sighed, then nodded with a small smile. “Yes, boys can like boys. I know a good friend that has found that their soulmate is their same gender, and I’ve never seen a happier couple.”

“But.. daddy doesn’t like that?” She nodded. “Would you… hate me if I did?” John’s lower lip begins to tremble at the thought of his parents hating him for any reason, his eyes burning like they did in class, and he felt a tear roll down one cheek.

She shook her head and picked up, holding him tight to her chest. “I could never hate you, John. I love you far too much. And if you decide that you like boys, I will still love you. Always remember that. Love is love, and I think it would be silly to stand in the way of that.”

John hugged his mother back tightly, then pulled away and thought. “I think I love that boy,” he said matter-of-factly, then wiggled out of his mother’s grip and dashed off towards the door.

“John, wait!” his mother called out, and he slowly came to a halt. “Just… don’t tell daddy, okay? This can be our little secret. You can keep secrets, right?” He had grinned and nodded.

John remembers that throughout that night, whenever his school was brought up in any way, his mom always seemed to direct the conversation away from instances in where John might talk about the boy. But when it was time for his father to tuck him in, his mother wasn’t there. John was still jabbering on about 'sown-mates’ and asking questions when the boy finally slipped out.

“Daddy, do you have to love your sown-mate?” John asked as he hopped up and down on his bed. “What if you like someone else?”

His dad chuckled and messed up his hair. “Well, no, you don’t, actually, although your mother may say differently. People are coming more to terms with marrying outside of soulmates ever since they legalized it in most of the United States. Why do you ask, sport?”

“There was a new kid in class today. They were nice and let me draw turtles on them! I love them,” John stated matter-of-factly.

His dad chuckled again. “Is she pretty?” he asked teasingly.

“It wasn’t a she,” John had said.

John didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go back to the kindergarten class the next day, or the next week, or the next couple of months. But he didn’t want his dad to get mad again and slap him like he had after he said that it wasn’t a girl, so he didn’t talk about it. And, a day later, when his dad got a phone call from someone and told him afterward that he wasn’t allowed to contact his soulmate until later, John didn’t put up a fight about that, either.

He hadn’t known the real reason until later, that a certain Mr. Schuyler was already looking for important people to pawn his 7 year old daughter off to when she was of age, disregarding the entire idea of soulmates completely.

Even though John respected his father’s wishes and didn’t communicate with his soulmate, he still enjoyed the tingly feeling on his skin as little notes appeared on his inner arms and he eagerly looked forward to hearing from them. When the first one had appeared when he was 6, a messily scrawled “Hello,” on his palm, he had almost screamed for joy. Every day, he would watch giddily as little hearts appeared around little 'I wish I could meet you’s and 'I love you’s. And the funny thing was, it looked like his soulmate talked to themselves a lot. John would giggle as the handwriting would switch from a perfect cursive written in light blue ink to a quickly scrawled response in dark blue ink. He wasn’t sure why both the names 'Eliza’ and 'Alexander’ were used, but he didn’t put much thought into it. If his soulmate was weird, so be it. He would love them no matter what. He built up a fantasy that his soulmate was so lonely without John, so they imagined that they were writing to him. And they when they met, John would make sure they were never lonely, and he would finally have a place in this world and be able to be a part of that love that his mom and his dad shared. “No, it’s going to be better than mom and dad,” he decided, then flopped back onto his bed and daydreamed about what their meeting would be like.

It was only when he turned 8 that he realized what the different handwriting signified. When he realized that something wasn’t right.

When he realized that there was a mistake.

That he was a mistake.


Haha I can’t write, but I’m bored and just going through some old trash. Has this already been done? 


Edit: Um… like wow, this got some notes??? Idk why you guys read this, but thank you? I mean, umm, I got a another part if any of you guys want me to post it? In case you guys wanted more? But, like, oh gosh this got reblogged and people liked some of it and it makes me so happy??? *is an awkward mess because sOMEONE LIKED WHAT I WROTE???*

Jughead Jones x Fem!Reader- Phoenix

The fantastic beginning, which I have bolded and put in italics, was given to me by the fantastic @wearelondonbound. I loved it, and I loved writing this <3 I had fun with it, but it definitely was more plot based than anything else.

Third person used~! I’m not super comfortable with third person so let me know how it goes?

Warnings: Fighting, mild swearing, graphic violence. Beware before reading, this could be triggering and I care for all of you so please remember you and your self safety are worth a lot more than a fanfic. Don’t trigger yourselves to read it. Beware and stay safe <3 My inbox is always open if any of you need it

Words: 3666, this came out so much longer than expected. Oopsies

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It didn’t start with a whimper, with a stranger gliding into Jughead’s favourite diner, and therefore, his life. No, it started with a bang. It started with him catching her setting Jason Blossom’s blazer alight. Burnt out matches in bruised hands. It started as it ended, burning, and bright.

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Meal Time

Jungkook x Reader

Words: 1,134

Warnings: blood, bondage, vampires, etc.

This little late-night fic is dedicated to @bxngtxnfluffandotherstuff, the sly noona who loves to torture me to no end. Well, here is payback. Bite me, bitch. (haha I made a joke)

Originally posted by holgi151shorrorshow


Heat. Pain. Ache.

Those are the three things you feel—head drowning beneath the stimulation being inflicted upon your bare body. The bonds holding your hands together are tight above your head—your shoulders aching, breasts perfectly rounded and resting against your chest.

Your thighs quiver as he circles you, skin lightly coated in sweat, goosebumps prickling the tiny, nearly invisible hairs on your body as his hands gently float across you—soothing away the new marks and bruises.

“You enjoy suffering, don’t you, noona?” the boy questions, red eyes gleaming in the moonlight. The bay window on the far wall is wide open—allowing the rays of the moon to beam into the old, wooden room—dancing off the mirrors placed in front of you, beside you, everywhere.

Wherever you look you can see yourself. You can see the reddened skin of your ass—the hickies he had sucked into your breasts and hips. You can see the freshly opened little cuts on your sides—the lines puffy and red. But Jungkook had been sure to lick every last measly drop of blood clean—a growl building in his throat, his grip on your ass tightening as he’d been so close to losing his control.

You’d seen the way his eyes had sparked at the taste—swirling deep red, like the smooth sand in an hourglass, ticking each second away and pulling you deeper into your pleasure. And the way the canines in his mouth had lengthened, desperate to take a bit out of you—to sink his teeth into your supple skin and make you scream and moan for him.

“Do you plan on answering me?” Jungkook asks again, stepping forward, leering over you. He licks his lips, hand moving to fondle your breast, and you gasp.

“Yes—I…yes, I do,” you admit, legs shaking. Your thighs are coated with your wetness, walls pulsing needily, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Not in the place you need to be touched most, at least.

Satisfied, Jungkook bends down, nuzzling his nose between the valley of your breasts, pressing a tender kiss to each inch of skin as he slowly sinks down onto his knees before you. You look down, hoping to see what he’s doing, but a sharp smack to your ass stops you.

“Look at the mirrors, not at me. I want you to see the way I’m going to break you. Watch your own face and know how much you love it.”

Unable to say another word, you turn your attention to the mirror in front of you, entire body shaking as Jungkook presses two fingers into your heat. You see your chest heave at the intrusion, breasts bouncing, muscles contracting. A bead of sweat slips down your temple, and you bite your already sore and swollen lips, attempting to hold on to your remaining sliver of sanity. But the way Jungkook’s fingers are working into you…stretching your walls, hitting you in all the spots…he has you involuntarily trying to double over to escape the onslaught of pleasure, and you know that you’re not going to last.

“Jungkook!” you beg, nearly sobbing. Every muscle in your body is on fire, so very desperate for release.

“What a needy noona I’ve chosen,” he clicks his tongue, but his eyes show amusement instead of anger.

Leaning in, fingers still continuing to ruthlessly pump into you—Jungkook opens his mouth, and with a little hiss of excitement he sinks his fangs into the meat of your thigh. The pain scorches you immediately—your back arching, eyes feeling as if they may roll back into your head as you scream his name into the night. However, the pain also brings pleasure, and your hips buck wildly as your orgasm tears through you—so powerful that your heart feels like it may burst right out of your chest.

“God, you have no idea how good you taste,” he growls, suddenly standing. He grabs you by the back of your head, forcing your lips together in a passionate and dominating kiss. You can taste your own blood on his tongue as he ravages you, and hate the way your body excitedly reacts—heat beginning to pool in your gut once again.

Eyes ablaze with hunger, Jungkook hurriedly shucks off his pants and then gathers you in his strong grasp. He holds you as if you weigh nothing, barking orders at you, his need for your blood—for all of you— commanding his thoughts.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you groan incoherently as he slips his length between your soaking walls. You accommodate him perfectly, head lolling backwards when he snaps his hips forward—wasting no time in his quest to conquer you.

Noona,” he breathes, voice rough and desperate. Your breath catches at the sound, wrists pressing against the bonds still holding your hands above you.

“Jungkook!” you scream in response, every inch of your body burning under his touch.

His pace is rough and selfish—but even so it manages to rouse another wave of pleasure within you, and you find yourself breathing curses and crying his name as he draws you both closer to the edge.

Fuck–!” Jungkook grunts, hips staggering, his grip on your waste turning painful as he digs his blunt nails into your skin—drawing fresh blood. You can feel him release his seed inside of you, and you sob, your mind and body wrecked. Everything aches, and yet you yearn for more—your orgasm right on the brink—but Jungkook had beaten you to it.

Suddenly, however, the pleasure slipping away explodes within you—your walls pulsing around his length—a deafening scream ripping from your throat as Jungkook sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck. It’s the same feeling as before—yet somehow more intense, more draining. You feel your blood being carried out of your body and hear Jungkook gulping it down—like a man in the desert who hasn’t seen water in weeks.

“Fuck, noona, fuck,” he curses, holding you tight. Your body is limp against him, turned to putty from his torture and your mind swimming from light-headedness. Lack of blood, you assume.

Finally, after a good minute, Jungkook manages to tear himself away. He loosens the bonds around your wrists and catches you when you fall into him, completely limp. Not yet passed out, however.

Smirking, holding you up with the strength of one arm alone, Jungkook soothes the other over your ashen cheek and kisses you once more. Blood smears over you lips, your vision blurring as you glance at him, but even so you manage to see that hunger still lingers in his gaze.

“Thank you for the meal,” he speaks cheekily, and then all you see is darkness.

Gone: Chapter Eight

What do you do when you’re left with just the aftermath?


Reader x Sehun
Angst, Fluff

You didn’t sleep anymore. You went through the motions, getting ready for bed, but you couldn’t even feign sleep. Your thoughts twisted around everything that you had done. 

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CS JJ Day 29: Hearth

Summary: In which Emma is always cold, and Killian is always warm.

Rated: M

Warnings: Smut, angst

Words: ~6k

Notes: Much love and gratitude to the organizers at @csjanuaryjoy! Inspired by a prompt from @seethelovelyintheworld, who requested a fic where Emma is cold and Killian is warm, and by the beautiful sketch she drew, which you may find below.  Also tagging @icecubelotr44.

Also on ff and ao3


It’s only when she’s taken everything out of the satchel twice – packing it carefully back in after the first, and tearing it right back out – that Emma allows herself to pout. She treats Neverland like a place of action. Whenever she’s still, it’s a place of mourning, eternal youth and sorrows, and she can’t hardly stand it. Can’t hardly sleep either. There are sounds echoing through the forest – grating, unnatural noises that belong in the winding, industrial alleys of poorly kept city blocks.

That, and she’s sure she’s never been this cold in her life. So she searches for the sweater she’d brought along, with no luck.

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Blinding White

“These are for you.” The girl stared at the plain white box that was held out to her by the man in red. She hesitated in taking hold of it, resulting in his orange eyes to narrow, forcing it in her grasp. “It’s polite to accept gifts from people when they’re offered.”

“R-right.” She lowered her chin, trying to steady her trembling hands. If being too slow elicited that kind of reaction, she did not want to find out what dropping the ‘gift’ might result in. If she had learned anything with her last caretakers—it was nothing pleasant. “Of course.”

She pulled on the top of the box, opening it to reveal a short string of colors. She looked up only to find that DiZ had turned away, making his way toward his staircase. She took out the one that matched his deep robes, examining it. “They’re…crayons.”

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Inked (Calum)

prompt: “ your soulmate’s words appear on your skin whenever he/she writes something on it.” 

MASTERLIST 

// 

7 years 

You remembered the first time the black patterns started to appear on your skin. You were so excited. You dropped the princess crown that you were holding and rushed down the steps, as fast as your little legs could carry you. You banged into the kitchen in search of your mother, your eyes lighting up when you saw her familiar face. 

“Mum! Mum! Look at this!” You screamed and almost punched her in the face in your haste to show her your arm. 

“What’s happening?” She  sets down her knife,looking at you with wide eyes , giving you  her full attention. 

“I was playing with Anthony when this happened!”  You giggle excitedly and show her the words that had suddenly appeared on your skin. 

Your mom squints to read the messy handwriting that seemed to have tattooed itself onto her daughter’s arm. 

“oneth upon a time.”

 Your mother says, examining the cramped letters. 

“there was a turtle whowl lived inside a big cave.” 

“What does that mean, mommy?” You asked her excitedly, your bright eyes shining.

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Of cats and muses

This is my a little fic made as a gift for @anoverwhelmingquestion for the ”Shadowhunters Summertime Fest” exchange.

I’ve decided to post it here (instead of reblogging from the exchange site) because I want all of my fics to originate from this blog. And I came up with a small graphic that I didn’t submit there, so here’s hoping my giftee will like it.

I am… disappointed by the way the exchange worked. There was a lot of misinformation, miscommunication and overall confusion. I think someone more experienced should take over if there are plans for 2017 edition. I know I won’t take part in it, at least - I’ve been successfully discouraged by the whole ‘you didn’t submit your entry’ affair when I’ve done it before deadline.

PS: This is my 100th post on this blog. Yay?

Beta-read by @brizzbee

(CLICK ‘KEEP READING’ FOR THE REST OF THE FIC.)

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Chairman Meow liked his life.

It was good. He had his routines and rituals, which dictated the pace of his existence. He usually started his day not long after dawn, stretched out in his bed in the corner of the living room, hidden partially - for privacy reasons - behind a statue of a naked lady with cut-off arms. Then a quick visit to the bathroom to do his business. By that time his water bowl was already refreshed and his food dish was filled; Magnus liked to get up early and make sure to take care of the priorities first. After breakfast Chairman was ready to start his day and pursue the activities worthy of a great feline.

Sleeping. Bird watching. Sleeping. Playing with Magnus’ ingredient collection. More sleeping.

Preferably in that order.

And maybe a little bit of interdimensional time traveling too, if that tiny portal underneath Magnus’ dresser was still open. He missed his friends on the other side, especially good old Erwin Schrödinger, always so lost in thought but always prepared with snacks on hand for his “muse.”

This day, however, his morning routine was ruined by the most unimaginable, atrocious and breath-taking scandal that Chairman could think of.

His food bowl was empty.

And that was not okay.

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