the despair in his voice

Rosy cheeks and breathless kisses

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW – This has mature content guys. Sexual themes, nudity, so if you’re underage don’t read.

Word Count: 1557

Author’s Note: Hi guys, so this was my first smut that I had written for my previous blog. I deleted that blog and created now this one after many months. I like this one shot and I thought of posting it again. I hope you guys like it.

Oh and if you’re underage please don’t read this.

And guys, if you’re going to be intimate with someone, please use protection and be safe okay.


Originally posted by theseromaniansarecrazy

(I don’t own the gif. All the rights go to the rightful owners/creators.) 

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Last

none of you asked for this which is why I’m writing it

Natsu grinned at his favorite cat, wondering what he could have done to deserve such a loyal creature. As the exceed flew ahead to join in conversation, the boy lifted his eyes to the sky. A wispy cloud hovered above, slightly blocking the sun. 

His book was gone, and Natsu knew all too well his fate. He frowned momentarily, gripping his scarf for comfort, for a hold on reality. He felt a certain desperation for life that was too far out of his broken reach. His mind began to cloud with thoughts and wishes he held for the future, for when everything was over. Those wishes were never fated to occur. Hands slightly trembling, Natsu fought the consuming fear, he had to. He had no desire to see them, to see her, so upset. As quickly as his despair had arrived, it departed as he heard her voice. 

“When things calm down a bit, I want to go on another adventure.”

Natsu smiled softly. A strange feeling of relief cleansed him from knowing she would continue to live. He wanted to tell her so badly to live for him, and to not be sad when he was gone. The words rose on his tongue, but he bit them back. Tightening his clenched fists, he reminded himself that he wanted to see them smile before he died. Not cry. 

Natsu stopped walking, feeling incredibly fatigued all of a sudden. He held his head, struggling to focus his eyes on his parting friends. She was laughing, slightly turning her head towards Happy. Life seemed to move in a painful yet warm slow motion; her golden hair slightly drifted across the breeze he could no longer sense. 

His eyes closed, letting himself go. Whispering a final word that could never be audible. 

Smile.

Anything, Everything

Summary: If she could be anything she ever wanted, it would be the one he loved. [Request]

Word Count: 849

A/N: To the anon, I’m sorry it took me literally 4 weeks (yikes). Should I write a second part?


Everyone says that we fall in love with people we can’t have. She knew she’s already lost him and it’s selfish, really. Because watching her best friend fall in love with someone else wasn’t exactly easy and Y/N struggled.

It’s been nearly three months and she’s managed to get used to it. She hates how naive he was. It was frustrating, to say the least considering that Michele and Ned were actually able to figure it out themselves. He couldn’t take a hint but sometimes, his actions would say otherwise.

Y/N had to watch him adore her from afar. She was everything he ever wanted. To Peter, Liz always seemed to light up the room. But he was Y/N’s sun. He was her moon and her stars. God, she was merely anything to him anymore and it was horrible. 

Here she is right now, pouring herself a drink on one corner of the high school gym transformed with fancy lights and a stage at the other end of the venue.

“Why are you all alone on a night like this?”

She turns around wishing it was Peter by her side only to see Flash Thompson. Y/N manages to stop her eyes from rolling, sending him a tight lipped smile instead.

She takes another swig from the plastic cup before shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not really my thing.”

“Well if you don’t mind,” Flash says while inserting his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I’d really like to dance with you.”

“Yeah.” Y/N couldn’t help but smile for the sake of distracting herself. “That would be nice.”

What she doesn’t notice is Peter staring from a distance. There’s sadness in his eyes, slowly feeling her slip through his fingers. Her hair flows past her shoulders in a loose braid with her dress perfectly hugging her body. She was art in its purest form.

He’d fallen in love with her a long time ago and it angered him because it took Y/N being held in someone else’s arms to realize it.

It’s stupid of her to use him as some sort of rebound, but she hasn’t seen Peter since he arrived with Liz so it must’ve helped at some point.

Of course, she spoke too soon. 

“Excuse me.” Interfering the pair, Peter sends Flash a look. “Can I talk to her for a minute?” He pulls her out of the crowd before giving him the chance to answer.

“Peter?” Dumbfounded, she lets go of his grip. “What’s going on?”

“What the hell, Y/N?” He hissed. “Out of everyone in the whole school, you take him?”

“It was just one dance, come on—”

Peter was fuming, balling his fists on his sides in an attempt to compose himself. ”And you agreed? I thought you were better than that.“

“I’m sorry? Why does it matter to you?” Her voice was rising by the minute, catching the attention of some students nearby.

“You can’t— Not him—”  

“Because it’s none of your business.” She grits her teeth, eyes flashing and muscles tensing as she held her purse in a tight grip.

“I love you, Y/N.”

This was all she ever wanted. This was all she ever wanted to hear but it was making her nauseous.

“Talk to me. Please.” He’s practically begging, hot on her heels. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N crosses her arms. “I’m going home.“

“Are you dating him now?” He spoke softly in disbelief, voice almost breaking as he throws his arms up in despair. His voice echoes in the dark corridor, she’s not sure if she heard him right, her mind is hazy and she stops walking before she can get through the door, scanning his disheveled figure.

“God, no! It’s you, Peter. It’s always been you!” She’s choking back her tears, hands quivering as she desperately tries to hold herself together. “I’ve loved you for so long. I wanted to move on and when I finally decide to do something about it, you start running after me.“

There’s silence between the two, a blank expression appearing on Peter’s face yet she could see right through him. He was confused. Lost.  

“Was it the attention? Did you love knowing that you could break my heart?” It’s unfair but anger was flowing right through her, unable to control the words coming out of her. His mouth dries up, heart rate suddenly increasing. “I didn’t know, I never wanted to—“

"You already have.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs, he wasn’t aware of the pain he’s caused but it was too late. Peter was blinded for so long because everything he was looking for was standing in front of him.

Watching him love someone else.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Footsteps started approaching and Liz’s voice echoes across the hall. “Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She says with a smile across her face. Peter nods, muffling a soft apology.

And when he turns back his head, Y/N was already gone leaving nothing but an empty hallway.


Requests

Masterlist 

Thoughts about this (final) episode of season 2:

- The Jearmin.  All of it.  Armin doing his little hop of his horse IMMEDIATELY as soon as he saw Jean was thrown off his.  Protecting him with his life even though getting off your horse in titan territory is basically suicide.  Aka, RIP my heart.  Armin and Jean working together after the fact to figure out what happened with the titan’s mysterious actions.

- Mikasa looked stunning in this episode.  Her scene was very heartfelt.  The scene where Eren activates the coordinate is emotional and pretty damn spot on to the manga.  Even the scene where Mikasa leans in is just as ambiguous as it is in the manga (if you personally see it as ambiguous, that is).  Yuki Kaji’s voice acting when he despaired over Hannes’ death and his inability to change anything was FANTASTIC.  Seriously, kudos to the guy.  I was taken aback.  I have no idea how the dub is even going to come close to this, no offense.  

-  Historia’s scene where she proclaims that being with Ymir makes her feel brave and her triumphant smile as she flies through the air like a warrior Queen made me feel so elated.  And then my heart was promptly crushed when Ymir said her goodbye….for the last time….

- Ymir’s scene of “it’s not so bad to be a goddess”, I wasn’t sure it would make it into the episode but I’m so glad it did.  Wow wow.  It’s so unfair though, considering everything that happens.  STOP BEING SO KIND YMIR WTF GET OUTTA THERE.  

- Armin and Eren’s shared glance just before the coordinate scene.  It’s small but It was important to me so I’m glad they left it in.  Also, I’m glad they had Armin being the one to bring Eren and Mikasa a horse.  He told them they had to hurry, very matter of fact, but the little tears he had in his eyes betrayed his fear for them.  So sweet….

- I am totally cool (more than cool, actually) with them ending the episode with Zeke.  Holy shit I am so ready.  Because that leads me to….

SEASON 3! IN 2018!!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE! IT FEELS LIKE CHRISTMAS HAS COME EARLY YALL! And it looks like they’re including the RTS arc, if those previews are anything to believe.  Which means two cours is likely.  GOD YES.  I take back my words about WIT studios, you guys are back in my good graces.

Thank you for a great season :’) 

He screamed in frustration, gripping tightly to his golden locks of hair. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He cried out of despair.

The voices in his head ignored his desperate pleading, instead growing louder and louder every second. Hot, flushed tears streamed down his face contorted with pain. “Please,” he gasped, begging dearly as he weakly hit his head against the wall already full of holes from being punched multiple times.

“Get out of my head.

—  m.d. // excerpts from a book i’ll never write #49

I’m a girl that LOVES angst and fights between couples but usually hates how writers choose to depict such scenes on screen. Up until now my only favorite on screen couple fight lines were these: “Were are you going?” “Home, away. I don’t know, I’m having trouble to even looking at you right now.” because it immediately strikes a cord you know? But then tonight’s episode of Riverdale came and Bughead’s fight was everything I could ask for. “To think I was gonna pass moving to Toledo with my family for you.” The line alone, along with Jughead’s hushed “for you” pierces right through the heart; the despair with which he says it, the disappointment in his voice that he had invested his future into somebody that he never thought was going to let him down is trully so deliciously painful to watch. The ground gets pulled from under his feet once again, hope brings him misery once again and this is so obvious in his statement, in his tone of voice, his facial expression, his posture. And then Betty’s teary and surprised “oh” comes, trembling out of her lips, and you can sense the moment she realizes that he’d always put her first and made decisions considering the both of them, a realization that stings at the moment because he seems regretful that he did so considering that her trust to him was easily bended. There’s an intensity in the fight, the same intensity that colors their feelings towards each other, and it went perfectly with the mentallity that is Betty and Jughead. 

Flood my Mornings: Service

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Thanks (Thanksgiving and Bree’s Birthday)

Late November, 1950

[CEBF]

“Bath time, little smudge!”

Bree squealed and, like a shot, went barreling toward the bathroom. Turning two years old seemed to have turned on a tap of perpetual energy from on high: energy to throw tantrums, energy to hate going to bed, energy to form VERY strong opinions about what she did and did not plan to eat, and so on, and so forth for all time. 

However, she had also decided she loved baths, and by the time I arrived at the tub myself, she was already standing on the bathmat, triumphantly nude and brimming with expectation with her toys in hand. I laughed and kissed the top of her head. “One minute, you goofy girl.” 

I poked my head briefly into the living room. “Do you want bath duty or bedtime duty tonight?”

“I’ll take bed, if it’s all the same to you, Sassenach,” Jamie said, looking up from the rolltop. “I’d like to get the rest of the bills paid and ready for tomorrow’s Post.”

“Fine by me,“ I said, taking the chance to stretch my back, already thinking of plopping into bed as soon as humanly possible. “Thank you for handling those, sweetheart.”

“’Course,” he said with feeling, rising and kissing my forehead. “How are ye feeling?” 

“Pretty well, at the moment,” I said, pleasantly surprised, now that I thought about it. “Like death, this morning, but I haven’t vomited once since lunch!” 

“Victory, indeed,” he grinned, kissing me, long and sweetly. 

MaMAAAA?” bellowed Bree, her voice bouncing ghoulishly around the bathroom walls. “Come’on do insee’pyder, please!”

“I’m being summoned,” I murmured against his lips. 

“Go,” he whispered. “Heaven forbid ‘insee’pyder’ have to wait.” 

“Oh,” I called when I was halfway back down the corridor, “I think the electric bill came today. It’s on the counter by the phone with the rest of today’s mail.”

“Thank you, mo ghraidh,” he called back. 

Tub filled, baby inserted, bubbles abundant, I knelt beside the tub and swirled my hands in the warm water. Bree beamed up at me, ready: “GO! Insee’pyder, Mama!”

Alright,” I said dramatically, reaching for the green plastic sandbox bucket and scooping up water as I sang: “Theeeeeeee ITS-Y-bit-sy spiiiiiider went UP the water spout ….”

I raised the bucket theatrically. “Down came the raaaaaain AND—”

The payload released on, “WASHED the spider out,” dousing Bree with warm, soapy water. 

Fizzy giggles emerged through the waterfall pouring down her scrunched-up face as I sang on. “Out came the suuuun and dried up all the rain, and the ITS-Y-bit-sy spiiiiider went UP the spout—?”

“—AGAIN!!!” Bree finished, knowing the drill and LOVING it.

We had just finished washing the shampoo-spider from her hair and ANOTHER rendition was demanded, when Jamie’s voice came from the doorway. “Sassenach?” 

“Yes, darling?” I said absently, reaching for the bar of soap Bree had just knocked into the water. 

“What is the ‘selective service?’”

My blood froze absolutely cold. I whirled on my knees to gape at him, praying that it was a newspaper clipping in his hand, or one of his library books, or—

But it was a letter bearing the words ‘Department of Defense’ across the top. The truth was written on his face, the tightness of his voice, the rigid set of his jaw. “Tis the forced conscription for the war in the east, aye?”

“Jamie—” I staggered to my feet, praying in blind panic. Please, God, no. “Jamie—Please tell me—you haven’t been—?”

To Mr. James Fraser,” he read, 

“According to our records, you have not yet registered with the Selective Service, as is required of all permanent residents of the United States. 

Please report no later than December 15th, 1950 to the enlistment station named below for registration, or risk revocation of your residency status with the Department of Immigration. 

Sincerely…”

Jamie trailed off, his face a mask of control I hadn’t seen in many years. The sight terrified me to my core—his face of duty, of danger, of great burdens to be borne.  

My hands were shaking as I reached for the letter, as I scanned it wildly for some salvation. “But you’re—you’re not even a citizen! They can’t just force you to go off and fight in their wars!”

“Apparently they can,” he said stiffly. “’All permanent residents,’ it says.”

“Jesus…” There was no way out. “Jesus—fucking—”

“FUN-KING!” Bree squeaked from the tub, sounding immensely pleased. Normally, that would have incited riotous laughter, then stern admonishment and promises between Jamie and I to guard our words more carefully. But we barely noticed. 

My blood pounded so loudly in my ears I could barely hear myself blurting, “We could go to Canada." 

He cocked his head in question. “They dinna fight wars there?”

I gave a jerking shrug. “They don’t usually start them, at least.”

“That’s the coward’s way,” he whispered, his face still stone. “I canna just run.”

“And why not?” I demanded, my voice treacherously close to both tears and shouting.

Why can I no’ take the coward’s way?” The mask wavered, showing his scorn. “Christ, Claire, do ye no’ ken me at all?” 

“And do YOU not know me?” I shouted. “Do you not have the faintest idea what it DID to me to—” It took only the cracking of my voice for the panic to overtake me completely in wracking sobs as my hands went feral. “ —to let you go to your death? For a cause you—shouldn’t even have been dragged into in the first place?? I w—” I choked. I was mere inches from his face, but I could barely see him through the tears. I wrenched a breath from my throat. “—WON’T, do it—again—do you—hear m—?”

Jamie suddenly snatched me hard against him, his voice a cracked moan of despair through his own sobs. “I know, mo chridhe…I know….”

I buried my face in his chest, and could only croak, “Jamie—”

He tried to say something, but couldn’t get a word out. 

We clung to one another with every ounce of strength, swaying and weeping for a long time, until —

“I’m scairt of this, Sassenach.” 

His breath was hot and gasping in my hair. “God, I—dinna want any part of it…. The thought of leaving ye….the—” He let out a sob, and I could feel his tears against my temple, the resonance of his words in my chest. “—Christ, the bairns—” 

He buried his face in my shoulder. “I’m so scairt, Claire.”

“What’s you scairt, Daddy?”

We turned to see Bree standing in the tub, still naked as you please, looking up, stricken.

With a small sound that broke my heart, Jamie released me and crossed to the tub. He lifted his daughter up into his arms and pressed her against his chest, not seeming to notice that his shirt was instantly soaked.

“Daddy? What’s you scairt?” she repeated. 

I had to clamp my hand over my mouth. He clutched her tighter, rocking her, focusing his entire being on love of her. 

“Use-r words, Daddy.” 

Despite everything, he choked out a laugh at that. 

“I’m scairt,” he answered hoarsely after a moment, “of having to leave you and Mama, a chuisle.”  

“Oh…” 

I came and wrapped my arms around them both, trying so very hard not to slip into panic. This—this was my home, these three people I held—That it might be ripped from—

“Dinna leave though’kay?” Bree demanded, glaring sternly at him. “Okayyyy, Daddy?”

Okay?” I seconded in a feeble whisper.

He let out another weak, broken laugh and leaned down to kiss us both. I could feel his chest shuddering with the sobs he was suppressing. 

The words were in Gaelic, breathtakingly quiet, and he repeated them over and over.

 "I won’t…I won’t.”

When he drew back a long, long time later, his eyes were dry. “Now,” he said, kissing Bree and wrapping a towel around her shivering back, “let’s get ye ready for bed, wee cub. Which storybook shall we have, tonight?”


[JF]

Jamie resolved never to let Claire or Brianna see his fear of this ever again. 

“I’ll go tomorrow to register my name,” he said firmly to Claire as he held her in their bed that night, “but it willna come to anything, Sassenach.” There are millions of folk they’ll call up before me.” 

“You don’t — ” 

“Dinna fash, mo nighean donn,” he crooned, kissing and soothing away her fears. “I’m staying right here—We’ll no’ be parted—I’m right here—”

But he lay awake far into the night and most nights to follow, praying with all his soul.

Please, God….

Please….

Dinna take me from them.

Please….

Please…..


[more to come]


From the prompts: 

@dlouise2016 said: This may not be appropriate for FMM but in response to your request for Jamie “firsts” & since he is only about 27-28, there was a military draft going on at the time for the Cold War & the Korean War. Since Jamie was certainly a warrior, he must have some strong feelings about war & Claire definitely would with her WWII experience  

@chechzooo suggested: Staying out of the draft

you are the brightest color

- in which Alexander Hamilton has (audio-visual) synesthesia and he sees John Laurens’s voice in a series of yellows


Before John, Alex saw the world in a series of murky colors. The sounds of the world muddled together in colors of  distorted greens and apocalyptic yellows. Every so often he’d experience a slum of mud stained blues, and luckily those would only happen once in a blue moon. Aside from that, those were the colors Alex experience day in and day out. Until he met John.

When he met John, his world went from a series of murkiness, to the brightest of hues, colors he hadn’t experienced since before his mother passed away.

John was a soft, sun-shining, yellow.

Whenever he spoke, hues of both soft and sharp yellows would fill Alexander’s senses. When his voice was soft, and above a whisper, he saw the sweetest of honey yellows; and when his voice was pitched with excitement, Alex saw bursts of yellow. Ranging from the lightest of pastel yellows, to the smoothest of lemony-yellows, Alex loved his sunshine, John Laurens. He especially loved it when John laughed, my god did he love it.

Whenever he did, he’d instantly be blinding with an overwhelming sight of the brightest of yellow’s, instantly reminding him of the sun. His laughter was probably the best sounds he’d ever heard, and the brightest color he’d ever seen.

But of course, with the brightest of colors came the darkest of hues. And they effected Alex the most when John was upset.

Whenever John was upset, Alex saw it before he heard it. But no matter how much he tried to prep himself for the murky, washed out yellows, the colors that came with the broken tone in John’s voice always crushed him.

When John’s voice became laced with a cracking, dark blue, and a black stained yellow, Alexander’s heart shattered. He hated those colors. He hated the colors that reminded him of the shrieks and grieving moans of his people back home. He hated the muddy stained blues, and the pinches of poisoned yellows that John spoke when his voice cracked with despair. He especially hated it when John cried, my god that was the worst. All traces of yellow vanished from John’s voice. Having it replaced with tarnished grays and colors of rusted blues, Alex would make it his mission to do whatever it took to bring back the wide range of yellows he knew that were buried within John’s being.

Sometimes it seemed almost impossible to pull John’s yellows out of him. But more often than not, Alex was successful in clearing John’s palate and helping him repaint it with the different shades of yellow that were almost as beautiful as him.

All in all, Alex loved his sunshine boy, John Laurens. He loved all the yellows that laced perfectly with his voice. He loved how bright his voice could be, he especially loved how blinding his laughter could be. He loved John Laurens; and he loved the color yellow.

3

Whenever you saw Emma and Hook around each other either alone or with a larger group, your mood declined heavily. You could go from an idle conversation with Snow and Hook, to complete silence when Emma showed up. In your mind you couldn’t compare to her ocean blue eyes, lovely blonde locks, and her bright smile that lit up an entire room. No, in your mind you weren’t even on the scale from one to ten compared to Emma Swan.

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I Promise-(Scott McCall)

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Character: Scott McCall and (Y/N)

Word Count: 584

Pairing: Scott x Reader

Warnings: mentions of rape

Summary: Intimacy with Scott turns real sweet reassuring(?)


I moan a little as Scott trails soft kisses down my neck to my collarbone. His tender kisses leave me weak all over. His hands roam my body, one settling on my ass and the other on my neck. My hands tug at his hair, desperately wanting him to go further, but at the same time fearing what will come of it. 

As per usual, this is where the intimacy ends. Scott gently pushes himself off me and leans on his elbow to smile at me. He’d never push me too far, this is where he always stops.

A groan of protest escapes me as I grab him by the collar of his unbuttoned flannel and pull him atop me once again. I kiss him a lot rougher this time round and let my hands roam his toned chest. 

I can feel him wanting to succumb to pleasure and desire, but he’s restraining himself. Like usual, which I’m not necessarily mad about. But he doesn’t.

“W-wait. What are you doing?” Scott pulls away from me and looks down at my ragged form, his eyes pure red. 

I bite my lip a little and shrug. It’s normal to want to have sex with your boyfriend of years, though here it’s a little unusual. 

Scott pulls away and sits up next to me. I do the same.

“I just… I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to be depriving you of something that you probably want a lot.” I mutter and pull my legs towards me to hug them. I look at Scott with a small but unsure smile. 

A year ago, we attended one of the underground parties in order to catch some chimeras. But while Scott was far out of hearing range, I was taken advantage of. And since then, Scott’s been blaming himself for not getting there in time to help me. He’s refused to touch me because he didn’t want to hurt me. But now he’s warming up, and so am I.

“Oh god, don’t feel like you have to have sex with me just because it’s what every teenage boy wants, (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you in any way possible and I couldn’t care less about the sex.” Scott intertwines our fingers together as he speaks, his voice full of despair and regret. He tries to reassure me as best as he can given the circumstance.

I sigh a little and look at him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m just worried about how things will turn out in the long run…” I trail off and give Scott a sad smile. Truth be told, I know he wouldn’t leave me just because of sex, but there’s always that doubt. And that doubt is enough to make me go near enough insane. 

Scott shakes his head a little before pulling me down to lie down. He turns me around so I’m facing him. 

“Listen to me. I love you, okay? We have years and years left together. I want this to be perfect for you, and I seriously don’t mind waiting. We can start of small, taking baby steps. I won’t leave you, ever. I promise.” Scott smiles at me and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls me in closer to him so my head’s in the crook of his neck. His scent alone calms me down. 

A small smile appears on my face, though he can’t see it. 

“I love you too. Thank you for being patient with me.”

Technicolor: Pt 1(?)

So this was inspired by the Black and White to Color Soulmate au by @adriexnette I hope you don’t mind but I really loved the au idea you had and wanted to write something for it.

Might continue this if I get inspired some more (writing and time has been difficult lately)


Color he could suddenly see color and it was beautiful. The world around him was filled…. it was awe inspiring…. He didn’t even know what the names for the colors he saw were he just knew that they were beautiful and the color that Ladybug wore was his favorite… The first battle with her was dizzying, he could hardly focus, there was just too much to look at and more importantly he had her to look at and she looked damn beautiful in color. More exciting then the sudden beauty surrounding him however was the fact that he had finally found her, he had finally found the girl that he was meant to be with and she was more than amazing. He wouldn’t much mind going back to living in black and white as long as she remained in color…


Marinette watched the people around her. As someone who had seen color from such a young age she didn’t quite see the world as everyone else did. She had always seen the colors and to her they didn’t really seem all that remarkable. Yes they were extremely helpful in design but… she would give it al up if she could just know who he (or she) was…. Marinette sighed as she watched a couple from across the street, they talked animatedly and pointed to random things around them like the bright red roses and the horrid orange color of his shirt. They were seeing color for the first time but more exciting than that they had found each other. Marinette shook her head as she looked away from the couple and continued her way to school. The thing about Marinette was she had know way of knowing if she ran into her soulmate again and because of that she had a different way of looking at love. While others didn’t even consider dating until you had them see color Marinette wished just once someone would take her on a date, just for fun because why not? The chances of her ever finding hers again after all this time were damn near impossible so why not go out and have fun and just pretend even if it was for one night. It would be nice to have someone to get dressed up for, to laugh and walk around town arm in arm… but Marinette had resigned herself to knowing she would never have that. Especially not with the boy who made her heart race, the boy who had met his soulmate only a day before he met her… what could she have expected really, she was doomed to end up alone. At least you can see in color,  Marinette thought bitterly to herself.


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Submission: The Gods Have Lost Their Minds (Or: Maui is not a damn BABYSITTER, Moana needs to stop laughing, Obito's hay fever causes copious amounts of destruction, and Kakashi wants to electrocute something. Probably Maui. Possibly the brain-dead chicken.)

“Can you STOP SNEEZING LAVA for TEN MINUTES, please?” Maui tried to keep the edge of despair out of his voice as he watched the bizzare half-demon kid launch himself backwards off the boat from the force of the glob of molten rock that just erupted from his mouth and nose.
Beside him, Moana was trying to stifle laughter as the ocean deposited the now waterlogged boy on the deck once more.
The demigod wanted to bash his head against the nearest hard surface that wasn’t liable to break as a result. “How do you even HAVE allergies this bad right now? We are in the middle of the OCEAN. There are no plants, there is no dust, so unless you are allergic to SEA WATER, there is NO LOGICAL REASON for you to be sneezing like this.”
Obito at least had the grace to look sheepish. “I just have a sensitive nose, the spray off the water has a similar effect to someone sticking a feather up my nose.”
“I will shove Moana’s oar up someone’s ASS if you all don’t shut up!” came the aggravated voice of the last human passenger on their little canoe of miscreants. Or, well, humanoid. Kakashi had been a minor storm god, but Maui stealing his powers had trapped the silver-haired and white-eyed spirit in a mortal, teenage body, much to his annoyance.
Now, they were on their way to Lolotai to confront a certain klepto-crab in an attempt to retrieve Maui’s hook as a first step on their bizarre quest to saving the world. Assuming that Obito’s sneezing or Kakashi’s creative temper didn’t get them all killed first.
Maui wasn’t going to hold his breath.
- - - - - - - -
Okay, maybe it was Moana’s mouth that was going to kill them. In other news, Kakamora are VERY flammable.
- - - - - - - -
Tamatoa was surprisingly easy to trick. A few (admittedly cheesy) lines from Moana and he would not. Shut. Up. Obito started sneezing from the amount of sand kicked up during the giant crab’s fight with Maui, and Tamatoa abandoned his meal in favor of dodging lava, allowing the group to escape with Maui’s hook.
This left them with the last leg of their journey to finish - the voyage to Te'Fiti. He was RESOLUTELY ignoring the two kissing teenage boys sitting by the boat’s rudder, writing it off as the result of adrenaline from nearly getting murdered by Tamatoa. Now if only Moana would stop CACKLING like a CRAZY WOMAN while steering.
- - - - - - - -
Of all the words Maui would associate with Te'Kah, ‘Mother’ was NOT one of them. Seeing Obito launch himself at the lava demon, not to attack but to HUG it (HER, Maui reminded himself, not that he could tell) and start crying tears of joy that looked suspiciously like liquid metal was now VERY HIGH on the list of things Maui never expected to see, but has somehow seen anyway on this clusterfuck of a quest. To then discover that Te'Kah and Te'Fiti were one and the same was somehow LESS of a shock. And then he got to watch the divine version of introducing one’s significant other to one’s parents, and decided that returning to his pebble-pile island where things made sense wasn’t so bad an idea after all.

NEWT SCAMANDER X READER

In Love Again

Request: Can I request a newt x reader where he holds your baby daughter for the first time, and he falls in love with you and her all over again please? Lots of smiles and fluffiness please?

OH BOY IS THERE A LOT OF FLUFF
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You hated that Newt had to see you like this, weak. A thick layer of sweat plastered your hair to your clammy skin as you cried out in absolute anguish, tears rolling down your cheeks, every part of your body screaming with hot fire. You just wanted it to be over, you just wanted it to end. Newt had been more supportive than you could ever thank him for, but until now, a part of him struggled to comprehend that this was his child you were giving birth to, and not just another of his creatures. Watching you now, the lovely smile he once wore was replaced by crippling sadness, crystal tears pouring from his vibrant blue eyes and down his freckle kissed skin. You knew why; Newt was incurably empathetic, which meant that seeing you in any pain would simply overwhelm and distress him to this point. The doctors encouraged you with each push, but their words were easily drowned out by your sobs of despair.

“(Y/N).”

His voice was the most quiet in the room, but the only one you heard.

“N-Newt,” you gasped through your tears, your head rising as he spoke.

“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, alright? Listen to the sound of my voice, I’m right here,” he encouraged softly, entwining his slender fingers through yours.

You gave another push, shaking your head back and forth, “I-I can’t do this.”

Newt squeezed your hand, “Yes darling, you can. Look at me.”

You rolled your head pathetically to the side, catching Newt through your bleary vision. His elbows rested against the table, his ember colored fringe drooped over his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed together in worry.

“You only have a few pushes left,” he promised, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “So when the next one comes, squeeze my hand and know that I’m here, know that I love you, and you can do this. Can you do that for me?”

It was a rare occasion, hearing Newt utter multiple sentences without a single stutter. You gave him a nod, and as you gave your last few pushes, you focused on the sound of his soothing words, your nails digging into his flesh but not causing him to flinch at all. It hurt like hell, but there was not a chance in the world that you could’ve done it without him. Once it was over, you collapsed back into your pillows form exhaustion, your breathing heavy and unstable. The doctors quickly took your baby to get cleaned up, and Newt edged closer to you, using his knuckles to push your stray hairs affectionately behind your ears. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I wanted you to think I was brave, but I’m not.”

Newt bent over you, his lips coming to rest briefly like a whisper on your forehead. He pulled back, caressing your cheek lightly, “I’ve never seen you braver,” he whispered, his cool breath fanning over your skin.

You laughed softly, bringing your hand to cup his, “Thank you.”

Newt opened his mouth, but was cut off by a doctor.

“Here she is,” the doctor smiled warmly, passing your baby girl into your arms.

She was wrapped snugly in a plush pink blanket, her chubby cheeks rosy as she stirred, and you were surprised to see that, unlike most newborns, she wasn’t crying at all now, but instead looking genuinely content to be in this new world. Her warmth spread into your arms, and you stared at her in awe, starting to cry again after just having stopped. She had her father’s eyes, big blue green orbs filled with wonder and charm.

“We made that!” you squealed softly, brushing off a tear and looking at Newt.

Newt pulled his eyes up to yours, a short airy laugh emitting from his chest, “we made that,” he repeated in disbelief. “She’s an absolute b-beauty,” Newt breathed lovingly, “must’ve gotten that from you.”

“Really? I’d say that’s all you,” you glowered.

You raised your fingertips to touch your daughter’s squishy little fingers. “This is a bit different than raising your creatures,” you giggled breathlessly.

“Well, considering you are the only one I have ever trusted to care for them, and considering how much kindness and love you gave to them, I’ll bet you’re going to make the best mother anyone could ever ask for,” Newt grinned.

Even after years with Newt, things like this still caused you to find yourself furiously blushing beet red.

You pecked your daughter on the head and smiled down at her joyus little face, and as carefully as you could, you passed the little bundle into Newt’s arms.

He grasped her tightly against his chest, staring down at her for a good while, his mouth hung open as he searched for the words to say. After a long silence, he raised his head, closing his eyes as he struggled to gain composure, a fresh wave of tears now rolling down his cheeks.

“It’s like-” his voice cracked and he shook his head again, his lips twitching upwards as he cried softly and left his sentence unfinished.

“It’s like what?” you smiled, using the pads of your thumbs to brush the tears from Newt’s soft skin.

Newt brought all his attention to you, his shimmering eyes softening as he gazed dumbfounded at you. “I-It’s like,” he breathed quietly, “It’s like I’m falling in love all over again.”

Your heart practically melted right then and there. “She is pretty easy to fall in love with,” you smiled warmly, looking back down at your child. But Newt continued on staring at you, his fingers crawling under your chin and lifting your face back up to his.

“Not just her,” he sighed, tilting his head. “I’m afraid, my love,” he said, searching your face, “that I am falling for you all over again.”

You shook your head in amazement, “what did I ever do to deserve you, Newt Scamander?”

“Exist,” he said simply, without a moment’s hesitation.

You were going to say something, but a sudden wave of sleepiness crashed over you, and you found yourself unable to suppress your yawns.

“Merlin’s beard,” Newt said, “that was supposed to be romantic, not put you to sleep.”

“Mmm,” you said faintly, “sorry sweetie, I’m just so exhausted.

“Yes of course,” Newt straightened up, “you need lots of rest. But…not to worry, I’m not going anywhere darling, I’ll be right here when you wake up!”

“Don’t worry,” you mumbled, “you have to go and take care of your beasts.”

“They’ll be alright without me for a while. After all, I have a new beast to take care of now,” he giggled to himself, tapping your daughter lightly on the nose.

“Newt! Don’t call her that!” you snorted with laughter.

“A-and once you awake, I will be sure to give you a proper good kiss,” he smiled bashfully.

Your eyelids drooped, but you smiled, “how about you kiss me right now?”

Newt blinked a few times, the corners of his mouth twitching up into that smirk of his you loved, his cheeks flushing, and adorable dimples appearing. You bent cautiously forward, your fingers coming to lightly brush Newt’s velvety golden red hair from his eyes. You sighed contently, tapping your fingers lightly against Newt’s temples as you gazed deep into the pools of his familiar blue eyes.

“I want you to know that, with you…well, I fall in love with you all over again every time I see you. I am so in love with you, Newt Scamander,” you murmured.

Newt’s skin turned hot under your palms.

“A-and I you,” he stuttered softly.

You strung your arms loosely around his neck, Newt’s hands coming to gently cup your cheek. You tilted your head, eyes fluttering closed, your lips finding Newt’s familiar ones with no trouble. It was easy, with Newt. Your lips molded easily together like two puzzle pieces, and every time you kissed, you found your heart springing to a thrum at the sensation of his soft and plump lips against yours. You pushed a little further, your nose pressing into Newt’s skin, your hands coming up to trail through his locks. Newt hummed lightly in content, the vibrations sent through your locked lips. His thumb caressed your cheek gently, every move of his cautious and careful with you, his intensity always soon to mimic yours with ease. Newt smiled radiantly against your mouth, and you could practically taste the happiness on his lips. You briefly bent your head in deeper, Newt quickly dipping his lips forcefully against yours before pulling back, his grin still plastered to his face.

“I needed that,” you sighed, collapsing back against your pillows.

“Rest well, beautiful,” Newt soothed in reply.

He shifted slightly to raise the blanket around your body, tucking you snugly in, the sleep already coaxing you into darkness. As he lifted his hands away, you used your last bit of energy to grab Newt’s wrist midair and hold his hand. You held it like that against the sheets, and a moment later, you were gone.

Newt leaned back, the smile on his face never faltering for even a second. And so he sat like that, admiring his two favorite girls in the world and wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Fic: Little talks late at night

A little 2x08 reaction fic. Because Alec and Magnus need to talk about what happened on that rooftop. (Word count: 2,351)

Read it on the AO3

Magnus kept it together as long as they were busy dealing with the aftermath of Magnus’s fight with Iris. Once he had closed the door behind Jace, Clary, Izzy and Simon, he leaned his head against the wood for a second and took a deep breath. Him and Alec needed to talk.

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Just to show we can

Ok this flu is probably messing with my head. It was supposed to be fun and I wrote a bag full of angst. But it slipped through my fingers and I couldn’t ignore it. Promise I’ll write a smut to compensate. I’m sorry for mistakes and other crazyness, I kinda feel out of myself today.



“Why did you stop?“You cried when Ivar’s delicious cock left you. You tried to grab his ass and pull him back into you but he moved away and sat on the bed, searching for his clothes.

"I heard something."He said in a suspicious tone, putting his pants on.

"It’s probably just the neighbour’s dog."You whimpered when he hid his toned chest with his shirt."Come back to bed."You tried to tugg his pants but he just waved you away and left the bedroom.

You threw your body back on the mattress, adjusting your dress with a frustrated sigh. It was a bad neighbourhood, for sure. Blocks of old houses, most of them occupied by drug addicted and broke people. You and Ivar didn’t fit into this group. Strange as it seemed, you two used the place as a refuge from the perfect lives you had to stage, from the rivalry between both your families and, of course, a hideout to all the things you used to steal.

You used your elbows to support your upper body when Ivar’s shadow casted in the wall. His figure appeared on the door but, before you could say anything, he covered his own mouth with his index finger, signaling for you to stay quiet.

He rushed quietly inside the room and grabbed you by the hand, forcing you stand up. You started to walk out of the room, making a quick stop for him to pick the backpack that was resting on a chair in the corner. As he dragged you through the corridor, you could hear the noises comming from the living room, it seemed like someone was trying to break the door.

Reaching the end of the hallway, Ivar silently opened the back door and pulled you out with him before closing it again. Then both of you started to run, jumping over the backyard’s fence. You reached the aisles surrounded by wooden planks that separetated the houses, forming a sort of labyrinth, and raced through them, Ivar’s hand holding tighly on yours as you both moved as fast as you could.

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Just A Little Help | Part 2 |

Hi! I finally finished it! God, it took me so long to do so. I usually write before I got to bed, but I figured that I should finish it now because I already had the ending planned out. Should I make a part 3 where the tell Gemma and Michal? I need suggestions, so please feel free to drop me an ask! Also, sorry for any mistakes!

Enjoy!

+

The overall seriousness in his voice and Gemma’s despairing facial expression made you extremely concerned about their issue. The small smile on your face faded.

“Yeah, ok… let me go wake Harry. You two can head to the lounge if you want.” You imparted before slipping out.

As you walked up the stairs, you had begun to get more curious about what they wanted to talk about. What could be so important that they had to come over at such short notice?

“H? Love?” You whispered as you reach the inside of your bedroom. “Harry, wake up.” You said slightly louder, walking over to him.

He moaned quietly in response.

“Harry? Gemma and Michal are here.” You cooed and ran your hand threw his soft hair.

“Tell ‘em I’m busy…” Harry groaned sleepily. His eyes were still closed as he tried to snuggle closer into the the blanket.

“I think it’s important.” You said in a hushed voice and stretched your hand out for him to take.

Harry sighed. He took your hand and allowed you to help him up. He quickly slipped into his slippers before following you out of the room, down the stairs, and into the living room.

As soon as you entered the room, you heard sniffling and almost inaudible reassured ‘it’s okay’s.

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter, Gem?” Harry gushed, walking quickly towards his sister. You rushed behind him and rubbed her back as Harry hugged her tightly.

Gemma stayed quiet for a moment as she wiped away a few tears. “Why don’t you two have a seat first?”

You and Harry looked at each other confused. You shrugged at him and afterwards you both sat down.

“There’s really no way to ask this, Y/n. I’ve known you for nearly ten years and you’re one of the very few people I could confide in for this favor.” Gemma paused for a moment before continuing, “A few days ago, we found out that we’re incompatible to conceive together. I have major tube blockage, and our doctor says that we have a few options: we could adopt or we could find someone to carry my egg and his sperm. We just want to know if you’d consider being our surrogate.”

You were dumbfounded to say the least. You had absolutely not been expecting this. At all.

Your blankly confused face had begun to scare Gemma and Michal.

“I… I don’t know.” You managed to get out.

“You don’t have to do it. We understand if you don’t. We just wanted to ask before we look into adoption.”

“I think we should talk about this together thoroughly first. Then, we can give you an answer.” Harry piped in.

You nodded, finally having processed it.

Gemma and Michal had left not long after.

Harry plopped down on your shared king-sized bed after patiently finishing his nightly routine and he successfully tucked all three kids in.

You, on the other hand, had been procrastinating from the moment Gemma and Michal had left, to now. You thought about it immensely, weighing all the pros and cons you could think of. This was a very tough decision to make, but it would determine a couple’s entire future.

Two very important people in your life.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Harry drawled, pulling the duvet over his legs. He sat up with his back against the headboard and his right hand reaching for yours.

“I think so,” you cleared your voice, “I thought about it a lot. I mean, I think I’m getting a little old, don’t you? But she’s much older than me, she’s already reached past the safety limit. Even if she could have children she would not only be putting her baby’s life in danger, but her own.” You looked at him unsure.

Harry nodded. He didn’t quite know what to say, but he wanted to make sure you knew he understood.

“Do you think I should do it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“As her brother, I think it would be amazing if you could give her and her husband the most beautiful gift of life. But as your husband, I don’t necessarily think this is the best idea because we have a daughter and two toddlers to look after, and this would only bring you more stress.” He spoke profoundly. He gave your hand tight squeeze. “This is completely up to you, though. You know I’ll always support your decision.”

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him. “Maybe I should sleep on it for now.”

Harry hummed, agreeing. “I love you.” He said, kissing your lips before fully lying in bed.

“I love you, too.” You replied. Finally turning the lamp on your bedside table off, and crawling in next to Harry.

It was very early in the morning when you woke up. The sun had not yet set, so you decided that you would go downstairs to the front porch and watch it rise with a warm cup of tea.

You sat up carefully in bed, cautious not to wake Harry. Once you got out, you slipped into one of Harry’s jumpers that he left on the floor next to his unclaimed side of the bed. You shook you head and scolded his sleeping frame. You figured you’d yell at him later.

You made slow and quiet steps down the hall to check on Amelia first, then the twins who were all still asleep and well in each of their beds. Afterwards, you set off to the kitchen to make a small cup of tea and bring it outside with you.

It was slightly chilly outside, but the warmth of Harry’s jumper was enough to keep you content for the next few moments. You snuggled closer to it as you sat comfortably on the porch swing and drank your tea. Birds chirping and the wind blowing was nearly all you heard.

You had been out there for a while, sipping on tea and watching the sun finally rise completely. You hadn’t even noticed the sound of the front door opening until it was slowly closing and the cushion you were sitting on had dipped.

You swung your head around to catch Harry settling down beside you. He had a pair of custom made pajama bottoms with “Styles” perfectly knit on the left side, and an old band tee that he had gotten the hang of using to sleep. You noticed he had a baby monitor in one of his hands.

“Thought you’d be out here.” He said while wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “'Woke up just now and you weren’t in bed.”

You hummed in response and snuggled into his warm side.

“It’s a bit cold out here, don’t you think?” He asked, smiling down at you. Harry grazed his hand along your naked arm. It was cold, and goosebumps could be felt. Even though it wasn’t a long while, you had been quiet ever since he had stepped outside. He frowned before asking, “what are you thinking?” You seemed to be really deep in thought.

“I… I think I want to do it.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He began rubbing your arm after placing the baby monitor he had held, in between his legs.

“I think I want to be to be Gem’s surrogate.” You answered a little more confident.

Almost immediately, he stopped his movements. “What? Are you sure?” He stuttered. He seemed to be somewhere between happy and a bit concerned.

“Of course, I am. It’s going to be so wonderful to help them with their dream of being parents. Even if it’s just a little help.” You grinned, holding onto his hand.

“A little help?” He grinned back, “baby, you’re *giving* them their dream of being parents. It’s so amazing of you to do this.” Harry embraced you in his arms and held you tightly. “I think I love you even more, if it’s possible.”

Scribble-Doodle: Good at Breaking Things

Yet another mushy parabatai scene set after the season finale. I just really love writing about them simply talking and being, well, mushy. Sue me.


When Alec opens the door of Jace’s room and stalks in, up to the bed, and just stops there with his hands on his hips, Jace meets his glare with a dead stare - and a swig from the bottle of cheap whiskey that he bought in the liquor store down the street.

Alec huffs and rolls his eyes. He walks around the bed, grabs the bottle out of his parabatai’s hand and sets it down hard on the desk by the wall, well out of Jace’s reach.

Then, much to Jace’s surprise, Alec climbs into the bed, too, and settles down next to him, against the headboard and with his legs outstretched, his shoulder rubbing against Jace’s. And then… he just sits there, in the dark, not saying a word. Waiting.

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Second Chances

Originally posted by magiccastles

warning(s): none :) there’s some fluffy cuteness at the end to lighten the mood (lordie will you be happy about that)

theme: After a night full of drinking, a mistake is made that almost ruins your relationship with Jaebum

word count: 2.1k


“The man standing before you wasn’t the one you fell in love with.”

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  • me: this is a fun blog
  • inner me: what about all of them growing incresingly distressed because every day it gets a little harder to remember what the others look like? even themselves? it gets harder to remember their human faces. cadenza beginning to despair because he's even started to forget his wife's voice, his favorite thing about her, because he hasn't heard it in SO LONG. he can still imagine it, and hear it, but every day the memory grows less and less accurate. lumiere missing the way babette smelled so badly when he holds her and wondering if he'll ever know it again. chip unknowingly forgetting what almost everyone but his mom used to look like. sometimes he tells her he had a dream about her, and her heart breaks a little when she realizes he's describing her in teapot form.