they always come out looking shitty sigh

Rest

Uhh so this was in my drafts which I havent checked in weeks and totally forgot about? Anyway seeing as the fic I was supposed to be posting today got deleted,,, yall can have this one from like 5 months ago instead lmao.


Tony really should have noticed sooner.


On the surface, nothing seemed wrong. Steve was fine. A little ragged, maybe, but fine. He acted in the same way, smiled at Tony no differently, scolded Clint no less.

Fine.

(Beware the read more, mobile users!)

Keep reading

High Five, Kid, We’re Dating Now.

Jaylos Week Day 1 - Real World

Apparently, Mal’s dares fuel Jay’s love life. (or the Jaylos High School AU where this happened and shit spiraled into a dorky game of Seven Minutes in Heaven.)

< AO3 >

Jay wasn’t sure when he started glancing at the tiny silver-haired freshman when he and his blue-haired friend walked by. On welcoming day, he high-fived the kid as a dare from Mal before tangling his fingers with the younger’s and proclaiming him as Jay’s boyfriend. It was meant to be a joke, but three weeks into the year and the tiny freshman greets him with a cheerful “Hey, bae.” when he walks by.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i'm so sorry for this but. i don't know what else to do (just know im really really sorry for rambling on your askbox...). i try to write and ok. some pages come out of it. and then it just gets stuck. and all i can think is. this idea is so silly. you know? like there are such great fics out there and then mine is. just that shitty thing. why bother. why. the fic idea is so stupid. why write it. my story ideas are literally never good enough. idk what to do. sigh.

nooo don’t feel bad about rambling! i’m always down to chat, whether it’s about fic or whatever! :)

look, i’m not gonna lie and tell you that writing is easy. writing is one of the fucking hardest things to do. it’s putting into words feelings and emotions. it’s literally concretizing something abstract, describing something that you’re not supposed to be able to describe. it’s hard. so the fact that you even tried is commendable.

and let me tell you that every single fic author has had that same feeling, the “why am i doing this”, “why am i spending so much time on this”, “this idea is so fucking dumb and shitty no one will like it”, “i’m wasting so much time.” believe me. i cannot even begin to tell you the number of times i went “fuck it, i’m going to abandon my fic and never write again.” it’s disappointing. it takes so much time and effort, discipline and motivation, especially for since we’re doing all this for free. even now, i’m not motivated to finish my own fic at all.

but the thing is. i know it sounds cliche, but no matter how many fics are already out there, no one else will be able to write your story. The way you feel things is yours and yours alone, and the way you’ll put all these experiences into words is going to be so, so different from the way your favorite author will write it. stories are special–why do you think there are still so many fiction books even though literally everything under the sun has been written about? there will always be something new, something different; your story will always have your own personal twist.

i think, what you need right now, is someone to tell you not to give up. so i’m telling you, don’t give up. there will be a million stories out there on the internet, yes, but there will never be yours. the story you told. the story you hold close to your heart. the story with your feelings and experiences in it. your own personal touch. 

if you had a good idea for something, there must be a reason why you had that idea. you must’ve seen something in it that’ll work. which is why i believe you should pursue that idea. and don’t worry if you feel after three pages your fic is dumb/stupid–it’s a mental thing. i promise. you know how when you look at a word for so long you become convinced it’s not a word anymore, even though it clearly is? i’m pretty sure it’s the same with the fic. you get so engrossed in it that minor things become glaring to you, but they’re miniscule in the grand scheme of things. i suggest leaving your fic alone for a while. letting it “ferment” (that’s what i call it haha). like wine, it will age, and you’ll forget about it and when you look it over, you’ll be looking over it with a fresh eye. and you’ll be able to see the things you should work on and the things that don’t matter.

and if you think your story is shitty, then go back and read through it, again and again and again. keep writing. practice. i know people like my fics, but i didn’t just sit down in front of the computer one random day and typed out a whole fic and got 1000 kudos on it. i’ve been writing since i was 12. i’m pretty sure the first fic i wrote was absolutely horrible, but there were people who commented and pointed out what they liked about it, and it motivated me to write more and practice some more. i’ve written and abandoned a lot over the last few years, but the thing is, i never stopped writing. so, i’m telling you. don’t stop writing.

if you need anyone to talk to/discuss fic with, i’m always here! ❤️ having someone else look over it always helps loads.

good luck anon, and i love you. thank you for writing.

anonymous asked:

Hi) Please, can you do imagine Tate x fem! reader. She never laughs and never smiles. Tate is worried and he wants to help and figure out what was wrong, why his gf so serious, sad (not depressive just very serious and sad)

My eyes were shut as I tried losing myself into my music. I don’t know how long I was jamming silently to myself, but I was pulled out of it by Tate. He was hovering over me, smiling as he looked at me. He pulled out both of my earbuds, “I’ve been calling you for the past couple minutes. Everything cool?” he asked. I simply nodded my head. He took a seat next to me on my bed, pulling me in to cuddle. “How was school babe?” he asked me. “Same as always. Shitty, but fine.” I responded. I sighed and got out of bed. “I’m going to the kitchen.” “I’ll come with you.” Tate said to me. “Whatever.” I said back.

He followed me from behind and eventually got close enough to wrap his arms around my waist. “Are you sure everything is fine?” he asked again. “Of course? Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked. “Well I mean…you don’t smile. Like ever.” he pointed out. “You look sad all the time and I just worry. If someone’s hurting you, I’ll want to know to make it better. I want to help you.” Tate said. “We’ve known each other for two years now, ever since you moved in. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you Kyle, but that doesn’t mean I need you in my business.” I said back to him. I was going through my fridge, looking for a snack and settling on yogurt. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer and leaned against the counter.I started eating in front of him. “Well then, what can I do to make you happy?” he asked me. “I don’t do happy Tate.” I said to him. “Everyone does happy.” he retorted.

I rolled my eyes at him and walked back upstairs to my room. “Babe, come on why can’t you talk to me about this?” Tate asked following me up the stairs. I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked him in the eyes. “Fine. You want to know why I don’t smile? It’s because I don’t have anything to smile about anymore. My mom is a neglectful bitch, my father is an abusive drunk, and my sister is a deranged psychopath. My family went to shit ever since my little brother died and they blamed me for it.” I stormed into my room and slammed the door in his face.

I curled into myself and started crying. Moments later I felt Tate hugging me. He didn’t have to say anything before I started pouring out everything. “We were at the pool at our apartment complex. Me and Andrew didn’t know how to swim yet, so we were careful. I accidentally got knocked in and Andrew being a nice person went in after me to try and get me out. Everyone saw the splashing and got us both out. We go back to the apartment after that to try and forget. Andrew started acting funny a few hours later. He was tired all of a sudden, wasn’t breathing well, throwing up. We take him to the emergency room when he passed out. By the end of the night the doctors tell my parents he died from dry drowning. They never said anything, but they all knew if I hadn’t fell in Andrew would be alive.”

“Shit, babe I’m so sorry that that happened to you.” Tate said, he held me close to him as I cried into his shirt. “I know what it’s like to live in a shit family, I do, but I can’t imagine what you went through. I’m so sorry.” I kept crying as he tried to console me. It was sweet, he was the only one to every try to do something like that for me. “You might not feel love from your family, but you can feel it from me. I can love you enough to make up for those assholes. I promise I will.” Tate said. I finally calmed myself down enough. I looked up at him and stared into those gorgeous brown eyes of his. I weakly smiled at him. “Hey, look at that. I always knew you were a pretty smiler.” he said flashing a grin of his own. “You’re a fucking dork Tate. Keep it that way.” I said to him burying my face into his chest. “Sure thing hot stuff.” he responded.

anonymous asked:

ok so i was thinking that Tango s/o is in the army and only has half of their right arm. so on night every one is kinda just hanging and someone knocks on the door and says they are here for Tango and bitty calls him down when he comes down with his computer and mug of coffee in his hands, dropping both of them, he runs up and hugs his s/o and cute stuff

Two days.

That’s how long he had to wait until Gabriel came home, he’d already cleared a 3 day absence with his coaches and his professors. He’d go home and plan a surprise party for Gabriel with his family as well as Gabriel’s.

It had been four years since he’d last touched Gabe - he always hated being called that, but Tango was special - since he’d last seen Gabe, properly, not through a laptop screen. Gabe had gone off to the marines as soon as he’d turned 17, it had been his dream ever since he was a kid. His dad had served as a marine and so had his grandfather, it made sense to Gabe. 

His mind was on Gabe, he was supposed to be revising for the test he had tomorrow with Whiskey but he was in his own world. They were in the attic with Nursey and Dex, who were both currently cuddled up on Dex’s bed, watching a movie on Putlocker. Whiskey was texting someone and Bitty was downstairs making shortbread, which he was planning on sending them to Holster.

He wondered what Gabe looked like now, it had been a couple of months since he had skyped him. Did he still have that slight stubble or was he barefaced again? He definitely had a lot more muscles now, and his hair was no longer grazing his shoulders or in a bun, it was an undercut now. Tango wasn’t sure about the look when Gabe first got it and he still kind of thought it was shitty, if he was honest.

“Tango?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Bitty’s voice.”

“Yeah, Bits?”

“Someone’s here to see you.”

Tango sighed, it was probably his mom - she always got her dates wrong, so it would be no surprise to him if she turned up two days earlier to take him home.

“I’m coming, Bits.” He got up and picked up his empty coffee mug from the bedside table and made his way down the stairs. He rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs before looking up to see whoever was at the door - and it wasn’t his mom.

It was Gabe.

Gabe was standing there, with his shitty undercut and his torn jeans and the band shirt that Tango had given him when he’d left for the marines and his military boots that didn’t even match the rest of his outfit. He had the same smirk on his face, as if this wasn’t four years later and he was still a 17 year old going of to the marines.

Tango didn’t even register the coffee mug smashing as he ran down the stairs and into Gabe’s arms. He wrapped his arms around Gabe’s neck, Gabe bringing his own around Tango’s waist and just breathed in Gabe’s scent. He didn’t smell like gingerbread and 99 cent store spray anymore, he smelled like Lynx and breath mints. Gabe pushed Tango up so he could wrap his legs around Gabe’s waist before pulling away and pressing his forehead to Tango’s.

“Gabe, it’s really you,” Tango whispered before leaning forward and kissing Gabe gently.

When he pulled away from the kiss, he suddenly became aware of the tears running down his face.

Gabe laughed and said, “Yeah, baby. It’s me.”

Tango pressed his face to the crook of Gabe’s face and clutched him even more tightly, “I missed you,” his voice broke, “so much.”

Gabe pressed a kiss to Tango’s unruly hair, “I missed you too, baby.”

(Y/n) POV

“This party is banging!!” You shouted loudly, hammered to no end. You stumbled in your black heels across the patio with a bottle of Captain in your clutches. You took a swig bumping into someone. He had short brownish hair and he was tall. He began to dance with you, and you forgot all about your boyfriend Cam.
You grinded against him roughly before gulping down another mouthful. He snatched the bottle from you and chugged the rest of the bottle. He began to speak “Hi I’m Sam and you look like you’d be good in bed” you broke out into hysterical laughter before pushing him against the wall. Your lips crashed together and you both struggled to keep you balance.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty room of your house as you both tripped over your own feet. Sam shut the door quietly and walked over to you. He pushed you down on the bed and his hands roamed your body all over. You giggled quietly and and tugged at the bottom of Sam’s shirt, and he pulled it over his head messing up his hair. He kissed down your jaw and on to your neck sucking at your sweet spot. You moaned and he started to unzip your dress.
You and Sam both heard the door creak open and standing there was your current boyfriend Cameron. “Come on Cam you wanna join it’ll be fun!” You slurred your words with a smirk on you perfectly shaped cheekbones. Anger filled his eyes and the he slammed the door shut.

~The Next morning~

Your eyes fluttered open, and your head pounded like a drum from a heavy metal song. It was absolutely horrific. You noticed you were in you and Cams bed, and you rolled over hoping to see his messy hair, tanned skin, and muscular arm, but to your surprise he wasn’t there. The soft snores were coming from a pale boy who looked to he shirtless. Your eyes widen as the thoughts of the night before flood your mind. You sit up quickly clutching your throbbing head. You walked down into the living room. The see red plastic cups and pizza and liquor bottle scatter all over the floor.
You stared in horror at the mess and saw your boyfriend sleeping in the middle of it all. You frowned slightly before cringing. You grabbed a bottle if aspirin from the medicine cabnit and swallowed it dry hoping your headache would go away soon. You walked back to the living room and Cameron was now awake. He looked at you before standing up and he started to walk out of the door.
You held his shoulder stopping him from going anywhere. “Please listen, I was drunk and it was a mistake.” I exclaimed. “You know how I am it’s my fault I understand if it’s over between us but I’m sincerely sorry.” He let out a loud sigh. “I know but I really love you and it hurt.” I looked down at the floor for a few seconds until I realized what he had said. It was the first “I love you” of our relationship and I always thought I knew what true love was but i actually didn’t, until now. “I love you too” he smiled and giggled “Now what are we going to do about Sam?”!


(Sorry about the oh so shitty ending I needed to end it somehow. Come send in requests!! I have no problem writing for you lovely people! Once again I’m very sorry!)