this has been sitting in my drafts for about a month

After Palmetto, Andrew signed on to a good pro team and played there for 3 seasons before he and Neil get married bc they’re in love for legal rights or whatever

  • The fact that Andrew Minyard was married came as a surprise to literally all of his teammates.
  • There hadn’t even been an engagement that the team knew of.
  • Andrew had simply shown up after the off season with a ring on his left hand.
  • One of the new teammates, who’d had the least amount of experience dealing with Andrew was the one to ask if it was a wedding ring.
  • “What the fuck else would it be?” Andrew replies
    • probably the most some of his teammates had heard him say since he’d started playing for them three years ago
    • Everyone sits in the lounge gaping at him until  Andrew sighed and finally confirmed their suspicions, “Yes it’s a wedding ring.”
  • The captain was the first to get her act together and cleared her throat awkwardly. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.  Congrats, though, that’s awesome.”
  • Andrew just like nods in her direction
  • Another young teammate asks “What’s her name?”
  • “Or his,” says the only teammate Andrew doesn’t actually hate
  • Andrew answers “It’s none of your business.”
  • Their coach is like “While I love this enthralling discussion of Minyard’s personal life, we need to focus on what I actually pay you to do.”
  • And then they go back to focusing on exy and Andrew being married isn’t really brought up again but everyone remembers

Keep reading

Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk

Note: Cat!Hybrid Yoongi 💕 😼 You can read the first part HERE and the second part HERE. Thank you for being so patient with me posting all those tiny spoilers ages ago which weren’t really spoilers but just me getting ideas out. POV shifting, clichés, and ridiculous, unrealistic word porn ahoy. I’m guilty of doing that thing where I neglect exposition in favor of smut because I’m tired and this has been SITTING in a drafted state since literally 2016 while it’s fkcinf August 2017. Also I typed this 99% on mobile so I’ll edit formatting later. 

The specialiest thanks to @joondaily and @94hixtape for reading through everything and giving me amazing feedback. 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: smut, hybrid au
Warnings: graphic sexual content (fantasizing, masturbation, oral, penetrative - dear lord holy hell), hybrid smut
Word Count: 10k (over ten thousand fucking words) 
Rating: X, for eXtra graphic (MA/NC-17) 


Yoongi doesn’t get to finish his sentence or his thought because you tilt your head up to lick at the thin stream of milk that runs down his neck. Your tongue meets the soft skin covering his adams apple, and you move up towards his chin. You have officially lost your goddamn mind.


Keep reading

Top 18 Sterek Fics 2017

Hello, our lovely followers!

For the past two years, we’ve been giving you guys a list of our favorite fics that we read and we are back at it again! These are the fics that really stood out to us in 2017. (here are our faves from 2016 and 2015)

Like always, this fandom came through with so many good fics this past year and we hope to see more and more sterek fics posted even with the show done.

We wish you all the best in 2018 <3

Keep reading

When Grantaire asks Enjolras out, he almost says no.

He doesn’t want to date Grantaire. Grantaire is antagonistic, apathetic, annoying, infuriatingly intelligent and nothing that Enjolras is romantically attracted to.

But Grantaire looked up at him with nervous eyes and Enjolras had wanted to go to that exhibit, and Courfeyrac had said he should try to fight with Grantaire less and it’s only one date, what’s the worst that could happen? It will be awkward then they’ll both forget about it.  

Then the date is wonderful. Awkward at first, but they begin to talk about art programs in underfunded schools and they talk and talk and end up at a cafe, eyes wide and bright, listening to each other, trying to understand that other not just dismiss what the other says out of habit. They don’t fight, and when Grantaire quietly asks for a second date at the end of the night Enjolras doesn’t even think about finding a reason to say no.

So it goes week after week, date after date, and at some point they end up holding hands every time they are together, lips pressed to cheeks in greeting and goodbye.

It’s not something Enjolras particularly wants or needs but it is nice, he doesn’t mind. When Grantaire calls him his boyfriend, Enjolras likes the title, even if he doesn’t feel like Grantaire’s boyfriend. Grantaire is still antagonistic, apathetic, annoying, infuriatingly intelligent and nothing that Enjolras is attracted to. He doesn’t want to write sonnets about Grantaire eyes, or that curl right behind his ear, or buy Grantaire flowers.

But Enjolras still wants to go places with Grantaire, and hold his hand, and hear what he has to say about the world. And that’s enough.

And then Grantaire has a dance recital– he comes to ABC meetings right after rehearsal, still in leggings and a loose shirt, smelling like stale sweat, a smile on his face; “today we finally perfected that last pass, it should be ready for Friday, I hope you all can come–”

and oh.

Enjolras goes home avoiding Combeferre, Jehan, Joly eyes filled with concern, “no I’m fine just a little tired.” Avoids Grantaire, “yes, of course, I’ll be there on Friday, I just need to go home right now.”

And then he’s alone at home and he thinks about the smile Grantaire had, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, the way he almost hit Bosset showing how he lifts his partner and how his shirt rode up and


His first reaction is to call Combeferre, call Courfeyrac, but this is something that they can’t help with. This is him and Grantaire. He needs figure this out by himself.

Enjolras sits and he writes. He writes down every single thing about Grantaire, pinning him to paper, no detail left unnoticed, no virtue or vice dismissed. He sits and he writes for hours, turning over the man who had crept into his life without notice.

Finally, at two in the morning, he puts his pen down, leans back and thinks aloud ‘I have a crush on Grantaire’

and chaste, firm, upright, hard, candid, terrible Enjolras, blushes and—

‘I have a crush on Grantaire,’

He picks up the phone and calls him because Enjolras doesn’t waste time or emotion and—

—and Grantaire had, at some point, without him noticing, become the most contacted, most thought about, most important person in his life.

and Grantaire sounds so concerned fuck, Enjolras still hasn’t explained why he left the meeting like that, why he was acting so oddly and it can wait because right now the most important thing is

“Grantaire I have a crush on you”

“Enjolras our year anniversary is coming up in 2 weeks what do you mean you have a crush on me?”

Note: this is a continuation of a post // extremely long

101 reasons why Jikook/Kookmin is my ultimate OTP
or 101 times Jikook made my heart flutter (Part 2)


51) A jikook compilation wouldn’t be a compilation without THE back hugs.

Hands on waist…

Chin on shoulder…

52) Not long after Jimin tweeted a pic of ramen, Jungkook indirectly replied to him by posting FOUR selcas of him along with a message telling him his ramen looked bland. idk about you but i found this interaction cute.

53) The artistic couple.The muscle pig and manggaetteok drawings that were featured in Snow App. They even drew the chicken drawings on the menu at Isac. I can imagine them sitting and drawing random things together. ㅠㅠ 

54) Jimin posted not one but three videos on Jungkook’s birthday, which means he wished Jungkook three times on SNS and made my head spin thrice.

55) Jimin and Jungkook took photos of each other sleeping.

56) When Jungkook thought there was no camera around when they were rounding the corner so he went up to Jimin and slid his hand around his waist. Little did he know they got caught on camera. I’d like to thank Yoongi’s vj for this awesome footage.

57) The many times Jimin has summoned Jungkook for Armys. In simpler words, Jungkook always tweets something after Jimin, and we all know how seldom he appears on Twitter.

58) “hyung has cute toes” Okay but like who lingers around his friend’s photo shoot and randomly blurts out that he has cute..toes????

59) The look! Jungkook’s expression when he’s feeding Jimin earns him a spot on this list haha. Tbh They’re kinda like eyefucking eo when jimin’s being fed. look at Jimin’s eyes. Apart from that I like how Jungkook fed him.

60) Their interactions the whole ISAC. Masterlist 👣

61)  How can I miss this? Jikook in Japan..this one has a special place in my heart. Back in 2016, it had been just a casual discussion between me and my friends on kakao. Never thought jikook would continue displaying PDA every single time they go to Japan. What’s more when they have very strict no-camera policy during concerts.

62) The amount of heart eyes they shoot at each other.

63) When they had a dinner date in the dorm to promote Mala Hot Chicken. What baffled me was that Jungkook mentioned beforehand he wanted to sleep but he still accompanied Jimin. I’m soft.

64) Jimin has made it very apparent, truly obvious that he likes jungkook. Whether it’s liking him as a dongsaeng, or just someone he’s extremely comfortable with, Jimin always, without failing, reminds us who he dotes on. “Why do I like you so much?” Lately, I’ve been crazy because I like Jungkook so much. I think of this as a start of something beautiful, and I am so glad Jimin didn’t even hesitate in expressing his feelings towards the maknae. I think this might have helped jungkook unwind. Look at jungkook now. That’s some character development right there :)

65) Massage. Quoted line from AHL mentor, Tony Jones “They are very touchy feely and to them, it’s nothing. I’d walk into the room and Suga’s massaging V’s neck or Jimin’s giving Jungkook an intimate back massage..”

66) When Jungkook bent down so he would get closer to Jimin and put the rein-kook headband on Jimin’s head. They’re separated a lot of times during fansigns but somehow they managed to get tgt at the end.

67) When Jungkook blows a kiss, then turns to Jimin whose lips are puckered and does the same to him, using the same fingers he used earlier. Okay I’ve been meaning to say this. Realistically speaking, if you pucker your lips and you put your fingers on them, wouldn’t your saliva stick to your fingers? I’m not trying to imply anything here, just genuinely asking haha.
140529 Ameba Studio

68) When a webtoon artist gave Jimin two dolls, but Jimin decided to give one to Jungkook. She even posted a webtoon of them. To be honest who wouldn’t?

69) *screams to the people in the back* ALL-NIGHTER FRIENDS!!! As written by the man himself, “ALL the time, it’s just the two of us doing something at night. I don’t know what we do”

70) Jungkook scribbling hearts all over Jimin’s birthday drawing. He’s one whipped man.

71) Just other instances Jungkook and Jimin flirting on stage. 

//gif above isn’t mine//

72) When Jimin and Jungkook chose each other when asked “if you were a girl, who would you date?”

73) The shocking fact that Jungkook demanded an apartment from Jimin as a graduation gift. Like, apartment? of all things? What kind of domesticity is this?

74) The way Jungkook takes care of Jimin even though he’s the younger one, and how Jimin is there when he’s the one seeking comfort.

75) I will never forget the Gayo Back hug, ever. I’ve mentioned back hug somewhere above, but this is different.This deserves a point of its own.

76) When Jimin took off one of his rings at the airport and gave it to jungkook.

77) When Jungkook stopped in front of Jimin during his part in For You at Osaka concert, and kind of directed the lyrics for Jimin. Jimin just couldn’t stop smiling afterward :(((
The lyrics are:
It smells like you
The road that I walk on
I plug my earphone to my status
My true feelings lie beyond there

78) When Jimin and Jungkook steered away from the bunch and instead opted for some alone on the cruise. people say you smile the brightest when you’re with someone you love, yes?

79) The fact that Jimin wanted to become napa cabbage after seeing Kook dressed up as a bunny, so he could eat him, albeit choosing to be cheese initially. What even is that statement lol 👣 

80) The morph of their dynamic. I kind of miss their old moments, when Jimin was bolder, more carefree, and Jungkook seemed to be too shy to reciprocate. (on camera). Now they have matured. They have grown up well. A wave of nostalgia sweeps over me. The transition of their relationship is extremely beautiful.

81) When Jimin became Jungkook’s makeup artist for a day, hovering around the set, even drawing a pic of a bird that’s used as a prop later.

82) their size difference might be exaggerated at times, but you really can’t deny that it is cute, even if it’s not much.

83) When Jungkook changed the lyrics in Spring Day to Jimin.                      
Like a small piece // Of Jimin // That floats in the air 

84) When Jungkook showed to the world what a sweet boyfriend he is,making jimin laugh, sitting him on his lap, hugging him on his birthday. Sweet sweet jungkookie.

85) Let’s state the obvious- 21CG choreos!!! i love how they evolved, just like their remarkable, legendary nmd lift.

86) Their sensual dance covers.

87) When Jungkook guides and encourages Jimin during games/missions.

88) The many times Jimin has been spotted wearing Jungkook’s clothes, despite the well-known fact that Jungkook doesn’t share clothes. Newsflash: Jungkook wears Jimin’s too!

89) We know Jungkook knows Jimin like the back of his hand, but that doesn’t mean that Jimin knows any less. I think they spend time together way too much.👣

90) How often the word “JIMIN” trips off Jungkook’s tongue- this what fascinates me the most. At one time he even mistook Jin for Jimin.

91) Jimin’s eagerness to kiss Jungkook for his Coming of Age, being the first one to hold out a hand for a game of Rock Paper Scissors. Bon Voyage season 1

92) When Jimin waited over an hour for Kook to finish filming BTS Flower Boy mini drama, even though he’d finished his part. Jimin couldn’t even stay mad at him for not telling, like how fond is he?

93) The fact that Jungkook is more than comfortable speaking in banmal with Jimin.He once said in Idol Party that he prefers talking in jeondaetmal (polite language) with his hyungs but look at the amount of times he’s dropped the honorific and called Jimin by his name. uhm, let’s talk about treating the other as equals?

94) Jimin and Jungkook, the human embodiment of Piske Usagi.

95) When Jungkook’s bro drew Jungkook as Muzi and Jimin as Con, the inseparable duo on Kakao. Bro knows. 👣

96) In Kkul FM 2016, When Jungkook and Jimin nearly intertwined their fingers . Scoffs bh seemed to think it’s okay to abruptly cut off their scene. What intrigues me most is that they weren’t even looking but their hands still somehow managed to find their way around. Also other instances they hold hands. I love how Jungkook’s slightly bigger hands envelop Jimin’s smaller ones. *Jimin’s pinky tho!*

97) How they’re destined to meet. The fact that they’re both from Busan, have matching moles, Jungkook’s bro named Junghyun and Jimin’s bro named Jihyun..imagine what would’ve happened had Jimin not been the last one to enter Bangtan.

98) When Jimin said he’d be looking at the ocean with Jungkook but Jungkook straight up rejected him and chose to go on a trip with his bro instead. It was quite a strong statement but a moment later Jungkook proved it wrong by reaching out and squeezing Jimin’s hand underneath the table, kinda like a reassurance that it’s all part of a joke. He cares. He truly does.

99) During Jin’s birthday prank at MAMA, these two couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The moment they entered the bathroom, they almost shut everything out-talking to themselves, picking on the cake- until the members gave them the signal to stop w/e they’re doing. Months later Mama kindly revealed another footage, this time consisting of just them, in the bathroom, jungkook right in the middle of buttoning up his jacket, wearing nothing underneath. How was I supposed to sit still?

100) When Jungkook and Jimin take skinship to a whole new level, or simply put, the times Jikook makes us question the real intention behind their acts and excessive skinship.

101) Last but not least, Perhaps my all time favorite moment- When Jungkook was caught observing Jimin’s every move, literally had his eyes only on him.

(Mark 1:17 onward)

I super love this video bc the song chosen matched so well with the situation- like they wanted to reach out but couldn’t so they stayed put, could only observe the other from far…

and that’s it!
thank you, you made it to the bottom of this post! In short, everything about jikook makes me feel content. I had thought of doing more  but despite my brain literally screaming at me “Include this! You forgot this!”, I had to stick to 101. Anyway, I hope this mends your longing hearts. Have a lovely day! Thank you for reading!

Bonus because I have to:

when the members revealed on BTS KKul FM 2017 that Jungkook bought a birthday present only for Jimin. Am I your favorite hyung?

When Jungkook, the youngest in the group, called Jimin who is 2 years older than him a baby. 애기야가자 !

Do you know that feeling when you want to be close to someone? When you want to hold their hand or sit next to them. To cuddle and watch a movie, or talk about your thoughts for hours. When you just want to be close but not in a sexual or romantic way. You don’t see yourself wanting to date or kiss them. Being around them, it’s enough. You just want to have their attention.

Root version (x)

anonymous asked:

can you rec some poetry about girls who love girls?

sorry this is took me so long to get to ya! i’ve had a busy month. this is real quick & dirty bc this has been sitting in my drafts 4 ever & if i don’t post it now i never will. love u xoxo!

i also invite u guys to check out glitter tongue which is an online collection of love poems by lgbt poets

Love Is Not Your Friend (Tom Holland x Reader)

*gif not mine*

Author’s note(s): THIS has been sitting in my drafts for three months!! I’m so glad I finished it though. Its definetly the longest piece I’ve ever written (so long that when I emailed it to myself my computer had to cut off the message). I worked so hard on this, so I hope you enjoy it! Lemme know if you want a part 2 :)

Warning(s): S W E A R I N G, mentions of the N A S T Y, major angst, heartache, cheating, basically fuckboy!Tom

Rated: Teen

(lol shirtless!tom is my aesthetic)

Love is that bubbly feeling you get when you fall for someone for the first time. Your heart races whenever they’re near and your palms grow sweaty with nervousness. Love is the soft pink tint that rises on your cheeks as you make eye contact across the room, neither of you daring to look away. Love is alluring, Love is precious but most of all, Love is evil.

Love is sneaky, deluding, much like a fox, capturing your heart unexpectedly. At first, you’re happy, on top of the world at most. You finally feel worth your while, perhaps like you have a purpose. Then at your highest peak, Love sinks it’s venomous fangs into your heart, tears it from its place in your chest… holding it out for you to see.

With a cruel grin, gracing it’s lips, Love rips your heart to pieces, stomps on it, crushing it into the ground before setting it ablaze. Only then does it offer the ashes back to you, in their broken and worn out state. You don’t want it, you never want it back but love is mean, and forces the pieces back into your chest without a question. Now there are no smiles, no blushes, no bubbly feelings. Your only feeling is pain, every time you breathe, blink, think, all you feel is pain.

Love was never made for the faint hearted, if it was, everyone would have found their happy ending. People would not fear love for its outcome. Love is not fair, it never was, it picks its victims like a lion prowling on its prey. You are but a mere pawn, a piece in Love’s game of chess. Love is not your friend, it is your enemy.

Love was not for everyone, especially not (Y/N) (L/N). Unfortunately for her, she had been carefully selected as a victim in Love’s cruel game. It put a target on her heart, making her vulnerable to deception and heartache. Her poor  heart had been stolen, too many times and broken too many times. Its broken form ripped out and shattered before being put on display underneath shimmering lights or on the fronts of glossy gossip magazines.

Blame was her biggest enemy. Guilt being her best friend. To her, it was always her fault. Together they tore down (Y/N) (L/N), stripping her of any human will to love. She avoided love, looked it in the eye and landed her own checkmate. She was no longer going to fall a simple pawn in Love’s game. She built thick walls around her heart and shut down anyone who tried to catch a glimpse of the tattered organ.

She begun to focus on herself, shutting out any ideals of the perfect relationship or future aspirations to have a family, perhaps even settle down. She’d been let down too many times to fall victim again. Love was no longer her friend, but instead, a sworn enemy.

Love was not for everyone, especially not (Y/N) (L/N), granted that was all about to change.

Tom Holland had always been a charming boy. With tousled chocolate hair, falling over his deep hazelnut eyes that could stare into your soul and soft pink lips along with a jawline that could cut diamonds. He smelt like earthy  pinecones and fresh mint, or so they said. He was Lucky, Tom Holland was, born with the silver spoon of love slipped between his perfect lips, his ego fed with the promise that he’d be ‘a good looking lad’ or a ‘lady killer’ when he grew up. He was praised by all, actors he’d worked with, fans of his movies - some might have even called him an angel.

If only they knew

He never fell victim, he never was a chess piece in Love’s game, oh no. He was the player.  Tom knew all the little tricks, how to lure them in. His heart was clouded with the delusional need to see someone in pain. Not physically but emotionally. He was a murderer, killing any last hopes of love.

Everyone wanted him, no matter who they were and even if they didn’t, he would find a way around it. He would break them.

Maybe that would explain Tom’s situation tonight.

Stumbling out of a dark closet, the plastic-y taste of bright red lipstick on his tongue, stains dotting his neck the overwhelming scent of flowers emitting from his skin. He wiped his mouth clean of the lipstick with the back of his hand, grabbing a chalice of bubbling champagne from a passing waiter to rinse the taste of fake from his mouth.

He winked at a group of passing girls, who eyed his slightly dishevelled form. His crisp, previously, ironed white shirt was untucked, his overly expensive silk tie hanging loosely from his neck and his hair, ruffled. A smirk graced his lips as he spotted a cute girl in the crowd, his mind telling him to make her his next victim, he begun prowling edging his way into the crowd, energetic music pumping above their heads before he was grabbed by the wrist and spun around.

A harsh slap collided with his supple, pale cheeks causing him to stumble back, his brown eyes snapped up to meet the infuriated gaze of his girl-I mean previous girlfriend. “So that’s it?” She screeches, eliciting curious stares from the partying crowd. “You’re  just gonna shag me and then break up with me in the same night?!”

A cruel smirk twists on his plump lips, his eyes lighting up with an evil glint. His face quickly shifts, an expression of ‘remorse’ and ‘guilt’ graces of features, whilst in his mind her celebrates his victory, another broken heart. “I’m sorry, baby” Tom murmurs, straightening himself and his clothes out. “It’s not you, it’s me

The grey-eyed girl steps back, mouth agape in shock. “Bullshit!” She cries. “I should have never been with you, I should have listened to them when they said-“

Tom visibly smiled this time, taking her chin between his fingers and tilting it up so they could lock eyes. “But you didn’t darling” he dropped his voice by an octave and leaned into her ear. “And here we are

She swatted him in the chest before letting out a shrill cry. “You’re insufferable, Thomas Stanley Holland!

“That’s not what you were saying just now, when we were-“

That last sentence earned him another harsh slap before she stormed off, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Tom let a sigh of relief,  glad to be over and done with her. Now he could focus on his next item of prey. Tom quickly slinked into the bathroom, fixing his shirt, wiping away any reminisce of lipstick, any traces that he’d been with another girl before sliding over to the bar where he’d seen that cute girl from earlier.

Luckily enough, she was still there, sipping on a freshly made Martini, chatting with some other celebrities. A warm presence behind her back, gently pulled her out of the conversation she was engaged in, she jumped back in shock when she realised Tom was behind her, sipping on his own drink.

So, what brings a pretty lady like you, to a place like this?” Tom questions her lightly, a mischievous smirk painted across his lips, she absentmindedly rolls her eyes at Tom’s attempt of charming her before she sips her drink. She places it on the table that they’re leaning on, swirling it around by the flute of the glass.

“Same reason as you, Thomas” he can tell she’s not impressed by the way she almost growls his name. “I’m here to celebrate Jacob’s birthday but it seems like you had other ways of celebrating”

The British actors brown hues widen in surprise , but the smirk never leaves his face. “You saw that? You know who I am?”

She rolls her eyes again and Tom wonders how they haven’t popped out of her skull yet. “Myself and around 50% of the party, Thomas” she comments, sipping her drink quickly. “And of course I do, it’s me, (Y/N)? We’ve met before?”

Of course Tom doesn’t remember her, he’s met and been with too many girls to count. He assumes she’s a friend of Jacob’s and nods along with her. She frowns at him, picking up her drink and pushing herself off of the table. “Look Tom, I know who you are and I’m not interested. Have fun with the rest of your night” She quips with a monotonous expression, looking him up and down with a raised brow.

Before the young actor can respond, she’s gone and he can only catch a glimpse of her sashaying into the crowd.

If there was one thing Tom Holland liked the most, it was a challenge. It was clear to him that (Y/N) (L/N) wasn’t easy game, and he was prepared to do anything to make her his latest victory. It was now his mission, his mission to find out every single detail about her. Her favourite book, movie, hotel, secret hide out. Anything that would make it easier for him to break her down.

He spoke to cousins, friends, anyone who could give him the information he needed. He’d learned that you’d had your fair share of heartbreaks but he knew how to work his way around it.

There was one day where he walked into a Starbucks before he was due to run over his script for a new movie. He’d ordered his coffee and slinked off to the side to wait for it, when he noticed her. She was sitting by a window, her cute nose buried into a tattered old book that had been tapped at the spine. Tom couldn’t help but watch as her (eye colour) hues slipped over the pages and he was tempted to call out her name. So he did.

He quickly mentioned to the barista that he would be going to sit at her table, before he shuffled over to the window seat and sat opposite her.  The British actor lightly cleared his throat, capturing her attention. He didn’t know what he expect from her, a polite hello? Or a small smile. He was wrong.

“How did you find me?”


“How did you find me?” She questioned again, emphasising every syllable. Tom furrowed his brows, clearly gobsmacked. He wasn’t expecting her to snap at him.

“I swear, I just came in for a coffee, I saw you over here and I wanted to say Hi”

“Oh” she whispered, her cheeks flushing at her outburst. A cool silence swept over the pair as Tom eyed the cover of her book.

Naughts and Crosses” he’d come to learn that it was her favourite book and couldn’t help but let the title slip from his lips. Her eyes visibly widened as Tom recognised the title of her favourite book. She couldn’t help but let an excited smile tug at her lips.

“You know this book?” She gushed sweetly, doggy-earing the page as Tom nodded with a smirk. Of course he didn’t really know the book, not like she did at least but he’d skim read it just in case it ever came up in a conversation, he even remembered her favourite quote. If he was going to play his game, he was going to play it properly.

“Callum McGregor taught me, that it’s worth fighting the world if it means you can protect those you love”

They both recited at the same time, Tom couldn’t help but smile, one that would have appeared endearing to some, but was really dark and decieving on the inside. (Y/N)’s lit up so brightly, you could say the whole room had been lightened, her (eye colour) orbs shone beautifully under the sunlight pouring through the window. The pair sat in silence as (Y/N)’s small fingers traced the many creases on the cover of her old book, a few minutes later Tom was called up to the counter to get his coffee. Two shared a quick goodbye and as (Y/N) watched him go, she shot up from her seat and called his same without a second guess.    

Tom!” She’d called out, rushing over to him, she handed him a napkin with her phone number scribbled across it in bold digits. She smiled at him as she passed him the crumpled tissue, noticing his shocked expression. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all”

And with that she headed back to her table, Tom watching her go with the traces of a smile on his face.

He thought it would be easy after that, getting to her heart. He was in her good books now, that was for sure but it seemed that she had so many walls surrounding her heart, so Tom knew it would take a long time to get there.

Usually he would have given up at this point, it was a year down the line and he still hadn’t budged from the friend zone but it was something about her, that drew him in. It wasn’t Love? He wasn’t catching feelings? Tom wasn’t in this for a relationship, no… he was in  this to watch a heart shatter.

He’d decided a long time ago, that it would be no use trying to ask her out in the early months but instead he tried to make her his friend. The young Brit would invite her for regular coffee dates, ask her to go on walks with himself and Tessa, have regular movie nights with her hoping that she’d eventually break.

One night, the two had been cuddling (platonically much to Tom’s dismay) whilst watching an old Disney movie, blankets wrapped around them her head laying on his chest, when he decided that enough was enough.  “Hey, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t budge, her attention captured by the movie bursting across the screen. Tom shifted as she hummed absentmindedly against his chest, he rolled his eyes before poking her side and pausing the movie. “(Y/N) it’s important

She sat up with a pout, her (hair type) locks splaying across the bare skin of her shoulders. She quirked a brow, as Tom skilfully moved it behind her shoulders, shivering lightly under his touch. He smirked, liking the effect he had on her. “(Y/N), I like you” The actor whispered into the silence, finding it hard to meet her (eye colour eyes). It was quiet, for a long time and Tom couldn’t help but feel nervous. Despite his notorious reputation, he was only human and feared the feeling of rejection too.

(Y/N) let a small smirk paint her lips before she laid back down on Tom’s chest, grabbing the remote and playing the movie. “I know Tommy” she stared blankly, letting the movie steal her attention again. Tom sat dumbfounded, the encounter not being mentioned after that night.

A few days later, the British male found himself spewing out his complaints over a beer with his mate Harrison. The blonde sat across from Tom, an amused smirk playing at his lips as he watched Tom drone on about how he  was getting bored. “Sounds like you like her” Harrison slyly commented, quirking a brow as he sipped his golden liquid from the cool glass.

He watched as Tom almost choked on his drink, using a napkin to mop up the spilled liquid. “That’s impossible” the brunette countered, matter of factly. He could never, he would never.

“Think about it” Harrison stated, tracing the rim of his glass. “The longest relationship you’ve had is six months, right?”


“You’ve been, ‘just friends’, with this girl for over a year…usually you would’ve give up by now” The actor’s friend reasoned, as Tom thought it over in his head.

“She’s different”

“She’s different because you feel something for her” Haz commented, but before Tom could respond, Harrison had headed to the bathroom, leaving his friend to ponder over his thoughts.

A few weeks later and the pair were hanging out again. (Y/N) had invited Tom over, resulting in him spending the night. As the soft orange, pink hues of the sky faded into a deep alluring midnight blue, (Y/N) had begun to get restless, fidgeting under the warmth of Tom’s muscled arms as a musical flashed across the screen. The brunette Male turned to his friend, eyes furrowed in confusion at her sudden movements. “Tommy?” She sighed and the brunette swore he felt a light shiver tickle his spine at the nickname, he brushed it off as he looks to (Y/N) expectantly. “I-“

She cuts herself off, a pout forming on her deliciously pink lips as she tries to think of what to say. Tom shook his head, as if to rid the thoughts of how attractive she looked tonight from his head because he doesn’t like you, he shouldn’t like you and this is all just a game to him.

His eyes ghost over her face for a second, as her lips twitch up into a small smile and before Tom can register what’s happening, she’s kissing him. Her lips melding perfectly against his and his hands weave their way into her hair. (Y/N)’s hands press themselves into Tom’s chest as she moves to straddle his lap and Tom smiles against her lips because she’s finally let her guard down, and now he can weave his way into her heart before he tears it to pieces.

When the two pull away, (Y/N)’s soft (eye colour) orbs are glistening with excitement as her gaze locks with Tom’s. “By the way” she mumbles, moving in for another kiss. “I like you too”

Now that her guard is down,  Tom makes his move, claiming her as his girlfriend as he pulls her into a trance of affection. Cute dates and small kisses to the neck unexpectedly are calculated with such precision to make her, (Y/N) (L/N), fall deeply in love with him.

And for the most part, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt towards the fact, that at the end of this, she’ll be but another broken heart in the jar that he’s collected over the years. Sometimes, it would sneak up on him like a fox, guilt would, and it confused him. Tom had never felt guilt towards what he was doing, he was used to heart breaking, it was almost a second nature to him. Maybe what Harrison had said all those months ago was true? Maybe Tom did have feelings for (Y/N)? His thoughts dissipated as quickly as they appeared with a simple shake of his head and he’d be back to his normal self, making it his mission to break her heart.

It wasn’t until a particular night, that the emotion hit Tom like a tonne of bricks. It’d been around six months into his ‘relationship’ with (Y/N) and they’d moved into an apartment in downtown LA so she could be closer to her music studio. Tom could tell by her sheepish and nervous mannerisms, when she had asked him to move in with her, that she loved him. It was obvious. He had her exactly where he wanted her and he loved it.

But that night, a sick and nauseating feeling lodged itself into the British actor’s chest, making him feel weak and helpless. His brown hues swept over his, ‘girlfriend’s’ form, her face innocent and peaceful as she slept soundly beside him. Tom caught his bottom lip between his pearly whites as he looked on. She didn’t deserve this. She had walls up for a reason.

His mind started to wander into an abyss of thoughts. Maybe he didn’t have to end things with her or break her heart? Maybe he could stay with her and be happy for once? Suddenly disgusted at his sappy and romantic thoughts, Tom slid out of bed and had a quick shower before heading out.

He didn’t want to feel for (Y/N), than wasn’t his goal or his mission. Instead, Tom called up Harrison and  went clubbing into the early hours of the morning. He didn’t come back until late afternoon, when he did he knew he smelt like a different woman, after spending the night with her.

Tommy?” (Y/N) asked when said actor tried to sneak into the house unheard. Her eyes were bloodshot as she rubbed the sleep out of them, a tired pout painting her lips as she gazed over at her boyfriend. “Where did you go? I stayed up waiting for you to come home”

There it was again, that pang of guilt that hit Tom in the chest unexpectedly. He ran a hand through his chestnut locks, approaching his fake lover with a forced apologetic smile. “I’m sorry love” the young actor whispered with all the emotion he could muster. “Haz needed me, an emergency”

He pulled her in for a hug and smirked over her shoulder as she inhaled. The British man, knew that (Y/N) could smell the scent of another woman on his cotton shirt, but she chose to say nothing, staying close to Tom despite the haunting fact. Tom grinned deviously to himself, today it had begun.

A year of friendship and a year of dating. He didn’t know how he pulled it off, but Tom’s plan had been going on just fine. On every date he sent a lingering glance at female waitresses, Actresses and singers alike that stole his attention from her on red carpet events. Every touch and glance and whisper in another girl’s ear was computed to ebb away at her very being and at her heart.

Confessions of love came easily, they were sitting together on the couch when the three words had slipped past her lips after Tom had made her laugh. All sounds were silenced after that, as they watched each other with curious eyes. Tom smiled, allowing himself to say ‘I love you too’.

Tom knew he had gotten to her, when he came home from work on set the other night. Desperate yelling sounding throughout the house, shaking the building to its very core. The brunette with the charming smile and alluring eyes moved silently through his apartment, listening in on the conversation, although it wasn’t hard to miss.

“You shouldn’t be with him, he’s bad for you!” A voice which he identified to be (Y/N)’s best friend snarled with such ferocity. He heard a crash, presumably from a vase before her voice interjected into the tense atmosphere.

“Bullshit!” (Y/N)’’ snapped back with a hiccup, Tom knew she was crying. “He said he loved me and I believe him, he wouldn’t do that to me”

“You’re fucking delusional!” Her friend countered, clearly angry. “Look at the pictures (Y/N), he’s kissing another woman and she ain’t no celebrity. Everything you’ve told me, it adds up!”

The was a silence, a pause and Tom stood tensely by the doorway, waiting for the reaction of the girl who was his latest pawn. “No!” She sobbed desperately. “He wouldn’t”

It was a weak defence, but it was enough to send her friend into a fit of rage. “Fucks sake (Y/N)” her friend growled. “You’ve been in a position like this before, had your heartbroken before and here you are again. Call me when you get some sense knocked into you”

Tom pressed himself against the wall as his girlfriend’s guest stormed out, slamming the door to the apartment as she did so. Frowning, moved towards the entrance of the bedroom, finding (Y/N) curled up on the bed in tears. “Baby…” he whispered from his place in the doorway, she didn’t look up, continuing to let her tears flow freely.

“You’re not cheating on me, are you?” Her question in bold and Tom has to fight down the urge to smile. He knows he’s winning his game, by the broken and defeated look on her face.

He shakes his head, moving over to her so he can pull her into his chest. She hiccups as the brunette gently hushes her. “I’d never”

She nods, her sobs almost completely silent now. “You’d never, you love me right?”

Tom smiles down at her, and to anyone outside of their relationship it would seem that he was smiling cruelly. “I love you”

When you pictured a relationship with Tom, you never expected to see yourself like this. Broken, tired, worn out from the countless nights you stayed up, waiting for him to come home. You knew where he was, what he was doing. It was obvious to anyone with a nose and a pair of eyes. When he came home, he always smelled different to how he did when he left you. The pungent smell of sex and other women etched into every stitch and fibre of his clothing.

You felt sick, horrified and stupid all at once, all the time. How could you stay with him? Knowing what he was doing. It was breaking you, breaking your heart, leaving you empty and soulless but you stayed. Why? because you loved him. That much was obvious. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him. Tom knew that and yet he still wanted to hurt you.

You should’ve known, he had a reputation and you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall for guys like him anymore. You’re hurting and the pain is endless and you just want it to stop because, fuck, you should have known.

You’re not angry at Tom, you’re disappointed. You’re angry at yourself for giving him every piece of you. For letting yourself love him and thinking that he loved you too. You knew that love was never on your side, so why was it that you could never take your own advice?

The house is eerily quiet when Tom comes home, for most, their house would be quiet at 3 AM but he knew different. He knew (Y/N)  would be waiting for him, wide awake and huddled in one of his sweaters, listening along to the gentle hum of the movie she watched. There was no hum of the TV tonight but in his gut Tom knew something was wrong.

“You’re home” a voice sounded from the couch as Tom flicked on the living room lights. His brown eyes widen at the sight of his girlfriend sitting there, staring blankly at the wall ahead of her. Her (eye colour) eyes are dull and tired, her hair is messy and her skin paled. It’s the first time that Tom gets a good look at you, what he’s done to you. He should feel proud, he’s wrecked another heart so why not? but instead a crash of guilt consumes him to the point where he’s almost suffocating.

Baby?” He croaks out, confused towards his feelings as he advances towards her. He lets a hand touch her shoulder and she flinches under his touch. Tom quickly retracts his hands, never had she reacted to him in such a way before. “What are you doing up?”

(Y/N) sighs, shaking her head with a bitter laugh before catching herself and biting her bottom lip. She chews on the dry skin there, looking up at her boyfriend with piercing (eye colour) hues. “I know where you go Tom, every night. There’s no need to lie anymore.”

“W-what are you talking about?” The actor stutters, he knows what (Y/N)’s talking about, but all of a sudden, he doesn’t want to break she’s  heart. Realisation dawns on him that his little game is coming to an end, but this time he doesn’t want it to.

A shaky breath tumbles past her pink lips as she grabs a duffle bag that she had resting on the sofa. Looking at Tom with heart broken eyes, she inhales deeply as if she’s pondering over her words. “You’re cheating on me Thomas” he flinched at the name she uses, it’s not endearing like Tommy or babe. Instead it reminds him of the time that he decided he wanted to play his game with her. “You have been for months and I don’t want to hurt anymore. I’m leaving you”

The words come out as a broken whisper and Tom wants to beg her, plead for her to stay. “I gave you everything I had to offer, every piece of me and it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you enough but I’m broken and tired and I don’t want this anymore”

Tom knows he’s fucked up, he knew it all along because he never wanted to break her heart. Fuck, no. He wanted it, he wanted to be able to call her his. But love is cruel, making his realise these things a little too late. Tom loved her, he knew he did deep down but he was too blinded by love’s game to realise that he had been a pawn in it  all along.

“Just know Tom” she adds as she moves to the front door. “That I loved you, and I’m sorry that we couldn’t make this work and that I couldn’t give you what you wanted”

He wants to reach out and tell her that he didn’t mean it, that he really did love her but he stays planted in his position by the couch. His dark hues flicker up to meet her tired and empty ones and she stares at him so intensely, it’s as if she’s looking for something. (Y/N) sighs when she doesn’t find it, whatever it was, offering Tom a small and genuine smile. “ I know I couldn’t give you a what you needed, but I hope you find it” She looks down again. “I forgive you by the way”

And with that; she slips out of front door, gone like the wind. She doesn’t come back and Tom knows that she won’t. He stands in the middle of their, once shared apartment, chest heaving and heart  clenched. He feels numb, like a part of him has gone missing and for the first time in his life, Tom realises something


Love is not your friend, it is your enemy.

part 2?

Okay, so after reading @sir-scandalous ‘s Abuse AU (or something like that, I believe?) I have feelings and thought god dammit, so lets get down to it. I’ve mixed it with an AU I’ve been drafting for a fic as well, which is Mute!Lance/Highschooler!Lance and Cafe owner!Shiro. (Lance is 17, Shiro is 19)

Lance has an abusive father with anger issues, and at the age of 9, Lance suffered severe damage to his vocal chords after a bad bout with his father strangling him. So he is no longer able to talk, which makes it even worse for him because he can no longer voice for help when he needs to, which his father fully knows and abuses this fact. 

Lance is taking the long way hope one day, wanting as much alone time to himself before facing whats at home, and he discovers a new cafe opened just several blocks away from his neighborhood. The big banner over it reading The Noir Lion, and the smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins made his stomach growl painfully.So, he decides to head in and take a seat at a semi closed off booth area. 

Because his other employees are busy cooking and tending to others, Shiro himself dusts himself off and grabs a black waiter apron to wrap around his waist to go and get Lance’s order. He asks the usual way and waits for an answer, to which Lance starts to get nervous and anxious over because damn, it was too crowded today and this handsome gentleman was expecting an answer and oh damn, his phone almost slipped from his fingers. Good job. Shiro notices the boys growing anxiety and holds out a hand, telling him to take it easy and go slow, with whatever he was doing. Lance nodded, smiling small, and took a deep breath, before typing out his reply on his phones notepad. 

Shiro wondered why the boy couldn’t talk, but he wouldn’t pry, instead giving him a nod and gentle smile before going to get Lance  a muffin and a cup of coco on the house because the boy looked so sad and stressed. So when Lance is about to leave he tries to pay for the coco too, but Shiro refuses it and tells him to come back anytime. Later on when Shiro goes to clean the table, he sees ten dollars, to which he simply pockets to save and give back. 

This continues on for a whole month, Shiro learning of Lance’s inability to speak, and always saving Lance’s money he leaves behind rather then putting it in the register. Lance starts developing a crush on Shiro after two months and starting to actually flirt with gestures, brush of finger tips and cheesy as hell pick up lines on his phone. Shiro always makes time to sit with Lances on each of his visits now, and even invites him to a private back room where the employees go for lunch, when Lances come in overly stressed, breathing hard or crying. Lances never outright admits his abusive household, but Shiro already has strong suspicions, but doesn’t force anything yet. 

Just imagine Lance, instead of going home right away, he goes to Shiro’s cafe and shows him his progress in grades and trophies in swimming and track competitions, and Shiro always smiling brightly and occasionally giving Lance a hug when the boy was ready for such contact. 

Then imagine Lance’s father finding out where Lance has been going and getting upset at not knowing, so he goes over one time and publicly humiliates Lance in front of a half filled cafe and Shiro, but Shiro is having none of that and despite Lance’s dad being somewhat bigger than him, Shiro is still hella strong enough to grab the man by the arm and manhandle him out of there and away from Lance, defending his dignity all the while. Lance is in tears for both Shiro defending him and because he was now scared to go home. Shiro invites Lance to stay the night at his place, and until closing time teaches Lance how to make buttercream roses on cakes and how to make his favorite blueberry muffin as distraction.

The first year was absolutely unbearable. Every time I saw or heard your name, I fell apart. I couldn’t listen to music without my throat swelling up. The aching pain in my heart was constant. Everything reminded me of you. I thought drinking heavily with my anti-anxiety medication would help me cope. It didn’t. I don’t remember much. It was all a blur of careless laughter followed by intense moments of sobbing and self-harm.

The second year, it started getting slightly better. I taught myself how to play our favorite song even though I knew you’d never hear me play it. I quit using anti-anxiety meds and hard liquor. I still had days when I refused to believe I would never see or touch you again, but I was starting to grow accustomed to letting go. I had a lot of dreams about you. They began turning into nightmares as my brain finally allowed itself to process and accept how toxic we were for each other in the end.

The third year, I still have dreams about you. I forget most of them, but the ones I remember make me think and dream about you for a week straight. I’ll think of an inside joke sometimes and just laugh while shaking my head. I don’t feel like dying anymore when I hear your name, our songs, or when I see our favorite movies on TV. I still wish you a happy birthday even though you’ll never hear it or realize I even remembered or cared.
I’m finally accepting you’ll always be a part of me, so I’d better stop hurting myself over it and move on.

—  My healing process
Touch Starved Tony

This is the first draft, I might so a full rewrite of it eventually and post it on AO3, but for now have some Ironhawk fluffiness.

Tony Stark was a genius practically from birth, put in the spotlight by both association and skill. Nobody was surprised when the rich boy started sleeping around with college kids years older than he was.

Tony remembers being 4 years old, circuit board grasped in tiny fingers. He remembers his father’s arm around his shoulder.

He remembers being 6 an engine on the counter, and his father’s hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face. He remembers Jarvis, and a lot of hugs.

Then he remembers boarding school. Remembers kids’ years older than him who only ever reached out to remind him that he was weakest among them. He remembers teachers who sneered when he corrected them.

He remembers Christmas break and the first hug he’d had in months. He remembers every Christmas break after that and the warmth of Jarvis arms.

He remembers Obie’s hand on his shoulder the day his parents died. He remembers thinking that he would never get a hug from Jarvis again.

He remembers having sex for the first time, he didn’t know her name, heck he barely knew his own name. But he remembered the feel of her skin against his.

He remembers the day he realized people only touched him when they wanted something. With women it was either sex or money, with Obie it was new weapons, and more professional behavior. He remembers realizing that he didn’t particularly care what they wanted if he got even a second of contact.

He remembers the day he realized that Rhodey didn’t hug him with intent. He remembers the day Rhodey shipped out for the first time.

He remembers a string of one night stands and the feeling of flesh on flesh. The feeling of warmth.

He remembers the day he returned from Afghanistan and realized that with the open vulnerability sitting in his chest sex wasn’t an option anymore.

He remembers dancing with Pepper. Remembers holding her in his arms. He remembers letting her go when she asked him to.

He remembers killing Obie, remembers knowing the man had tried to kill him. He remembers mourning the side hugs, and encouraging pats on the shoulder.

He remembers the day the Avengers agreed to move in.

“Jarvis, Jarvis, are all of their rooms ready? The passive surveillance is all set up so they don’t get uncomfortable? And Steve’s is all retro? Natasha has the memory foam bed right? She said she liked memory foam. Do you think they’ll like it?” Tony babbles, he hasn’t slept in three days, ever since they agreed to move in. He had to get everything ready.

“Of course, Sir. All of that has been completed. I am sure they will love it.” Jarvis assures him. Tony nods, trying to settle, hands flying up to fix the mess his hair has become. “Good, good, do I need to shave? I should shave.” He heads for the elevator, fingers tracing over the messy ages of his beard.

“Sir, this is not a date I do not believe shaving is necessary.” Jarvis cuts in, halting Tony on his path to the elevator. “Also, your guests are here.”

“They’re here! Jarvis why didn’t you tell me? Take me down to the lobby to get them.” He spends the elevator ride trying to fix his hair, it doesn’t seem to have done much good.

“Hello Mr. Stark, thank you for inviting us.” Steve says, hefting his duffle bag up on his shoulder.

“It’s no problem, and please Cap, call me Tony.” He says, gesturing for them to board the elevator.

“Still, nice of you to open your home to us.” Natasha says, smiling at him. Her eyes are searching though. Most likely for a motive.

“It’s not just my home now, it’s yours too.” He says, shrugging. Natasha elbows Clint in the least subtle way possible, and Tony watches, mildly impressed as he manages to keep hold of his boxes.

“Oh yeah, thanks dude.” Clint says, peeking out from behind a stack of boxes with Natasha’s careful script on them. “Okay, Natasha, you’re on floor 74. Clint you get 75, they do connect at multiple points and you can feel free to share space.” Tony says, hitting the necessary buttons and gesturing to the eye scanner. “Steve, you’re on 76, and I’m saving 77 for your friend.”

“Tony, we don’t need whole floors.” Steve protests. Looking at his duffle bag Tony suspects that is true, he’ll need to buy the man some clothes and things.

“Speak for yourself Rogers.” Clint says, elbowing the super soldier in the side. It probably hurt his elbow more than it did Steve, but it gets his point across. Tony elects to ignore both of them.

“Brucie-bear, you have 78, although the hulk room expands into 79. I put your lab on your floor because I figured it would be more comfortable.

“Thor gets 79, since he’ll be here the least he shouldn’t mind the loss of space. Common areas are on floor 80, and the penthouse is obviously mine. 81 through 84 are set up for Sam Wilson, guests, more guests, and Rhodey respectively.” Tony explains. “If you need anything from Jarvis you will have to enter the elevator or a common area, as I have set your rooms to passive surveillance only to avoid any discomfort you may feel.” The elevator stops and the doors slide open to reveal Natasha’s floor.

“No Jarvis beyond this point, but there is a top of the line security system so please try not to break any windows.” Tony says, stepping aside, Clint gets off the elevator while Natasha picks up her own stack of boxes and follows him.

It takes an hour to get everyone settled in. Steve thanks him profusely, and talks about how his floor is too much. Bruce thanks him quietly and disappears into his rooms. Natasha calls him kitten in Russian and smiles at him before disappearing into her rooms with a comment about dress shopping.

“Stark!” Clint is bouncing on the balls of his feet when Tony knocks on his door to check on him. “Stark! You built me an archery range on my floor? You are the absolute best!” For a moment, it looks like he’s going to hug him, and then there’s a warm weight of Clint’s hand on his shoulder for half a second. “God, I am never leaving this tower.”

“Glad you like it.” Tony says, trying to ignore how warm his shoulder feels. Trying to ignore how his heart is beating against his ribs. It’s been almost three months since he’s seen Rhodey, and therefore three months since someone has touched him in a friendly way. It feels better than flying in the suit ever does.

He’s not surprised with the lack of physical contact from the others. They were busy moving in, and he knows they all have their own hang-ups. It’s really not a big deal. He’s working on new armor for Steve now anyways, so maybe he can get a hug or something after.

“Stop kidding yourself Stark.” He grumbles, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, it’s probably time he actually gets some sleep. “They won’t want you. Not a team player, remember? Fucking talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror, no wonder you only have three friends.” He sleeps until well into the next afternoon, and then disappears into his lab.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is asking for you. He says the team wants to do dinner tonight in the common room.” Jarvis informs him.

“They want me to come?” He asks, there’s no one here but Jarvis and still the caution creeps into his voice. He can’t help but hide hope behind an air of nonchalance.  

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis says. Steve had asked him to tell Tony to come, they clearly wanted him there.

“Tell Cap I’ll be there.” He says, hiding a smile in his work.

He goes to team dinner, and the next one, and training. He tries to live off of awkward brushes of hands, and sharp kicks for practice. He reminds himself that just because they are here, doesn’t mean they’ll like him. They don’t owe him hugs.

Tony was fine, really. Completely, and totally fine.

He finishes the first round of upgrade and eagerly calls them to the lab.

“I made things!” He says, a new quiver clutched in his hands. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, hugs are a relatively normal part of gratitude he could get a hug.

“Is that a quiver?” Clint asks, Tony hits the button on the side there’s a noise as the arrow head is attached. “Shit automated, what a beaut.” Tony blushes, handing it over. Clint snatches up his bow, practically running for the range. No hug. Tony turns to Natasha.

“Upgraded widow bites with stun, knock out, kill, and Thor settings.” He offers, holding them out to her, she grins at him, taking them from his hands.

“Thanks Stark.” She winks at him as she stalks out of the room. “These will be so useful.” She doesn’t hug him on the way out.

“Steve, new body armor. Less ab plating more protection.” He explains, holding up the new and improved suit. “Also, less zippers, that look was so nineties Steve you don’t understand.” Steve smiles at him.

“No, I don’t, but I appreciate the new suit all the same.” He says, Tony beams at him. Steve claps a hand on his shoulder as he leaves. Tony tries to pretend the warmth is enough. Revels in the feeling from that small touch. It’s not enough, maybe if he makes them more gear.

“You look tired Tones, maybe you should get some rest, you can show me Hulk’s gift tomorrow.” Bruce offers, he’s so kind. If Tony looked bad enough he might help him to bed, hold onto him. It would be nice.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to bed.” He mumbles, the pattern continues. Tony remains cold, and untouched.  They fight bad guys, they eat dinner, and nobody hugs Tony.

The suit was gone, ripped off in the battle. He was beaten up, a little bloody but still standing when the witch landed in front of him, lobbing a ball of what he presumed was magic at his chest.

“Let’s see how the world likes you when your deepest desires spill from your lips. How will they feel knowing how perverted you are?” They asked, Tony’s jaw ticks as he clenches it shut. The witch disappears.

“Your darkest desire, huh Stark?” Clint teases. “Can’t be too bad. Want to sleep with a man? Want to kill someone on the team? Want to kill one of the villains we fight?” Tony’s vibrating with frustration, desperately trying to remain silent.

“Clint, stop.” Natasha scolds. “Your desires aren’t you as a person, no matter how dark we won’t blame you.” She assures him, standing on the rubble strewn street. Tony turns wide eyes to Steve and Bruce.

“We won’t.” They assure him. He relaxes his shoulders slightly, his mouth parting against his will.

“I want a hug. Please, I just, I just want a hug.” He begs, face flushing with embarrassment. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Tony’s head drops, eyes tearing up. “I understand. I know it’s weak, I’m sorry.”

“A freaking hug is your darkest desire?” Clint blurts out, taking a step towards him. Tony nods miserably. “A goddamn hug? How are you so good?” Tony finds himself wrapped in strong arms a moment later. “A goddamn hug.” Clint grumbles.

“I know it’s weak, and stupid. I’m sorry.” Tony whispers, he knows he should pull back, but he lets himself slump against Clint’s shoulder. Let’s himself be held.

“Shut up. You’re goddamn perfect. Your darkest desire is a hug Tony. That’s so ridiculously pleasant.” Clint grumbles, nuzzling into Tony’s hair.  

“It’s so dumb, you guys don’t owe me anything, I can’t expect hugs. I shouldn’t have. Got my hopes up, cause I’m dumb.” Tony mumbles, hands clenched in the back of Clint’s shirt. “You can let go now, I won’t be a bother.”

“Nope, we’re going back to the tower, and cuddling.” He’s surprised the others haven’t gotten over their shock and come to join the hug yet. “God, how did I not know you wanted hugs, I could have offered non-stop cuddles.” Clint laments. Natasha seems to have gotten over her shock, and she practically sprints over, leaping at them. Tony flinches just before she makes contact wrapping them both in a hug.

“Do not be afraid.” She grumbles. He doesn’t look at her, face still buried in Clint’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to hug me. Shouldn’t have asked. Don’t deserve it.” Tony mumbles. “Can’t expect hugs as payment. No buying people’s love.” The words come out like a mantra. She whacks the back of his head.

“You assumed I wouldn’t want to hug you idiot, not that I would. There is no harm in asking.” She scolds. Clint nods, puffing a breath of air into Tony’s hair.

“Didn’t want any of you to feel obligated.” He mumbles. Clint’s grip tightens, and he feels Steve and Bruce joining the fray, a warm line of skin across his shoulders and lower back.

“No, Tony. We don’t feel obligated.” Clint assures him. “Just guilty that we missed out on giving you something you need.”

“Don’t need hugs, I’m fine.” Tony grumbles, but he still hasn’t made any move to pull away.

“Shut up.” Natasha grumbles, Bruce nods in agreement, half asleep from the Hulk out. “You need hugs. Don’t worry, we’re happy to provide.” She steps on Steve’s foot when he doesn’t say anything in agreement.

“Of course, Tony, you’re our teammate, and our friend.” Steve says, pulling back slightly. The hug starts to pull apart then, leaving only Clint with Tony wrapped around him like a koala.

“I should let go now.” Tony mumbles, releasing his grip on Clint’s shirt. Clint frowns, they need to get back to the tower, but how to best do that without letting go, he slides his hand around Tony’s waist, hand resting on his hip.

“This okay?” He asks, squeezing gently. Tony nods with such ferocity Clint worries he’ll get whiplash. “Good, let’s get you home for some more cuddles.” Tony nods agreeably.

“Thanks Clint.” He mumbles. “You’re my favorite.” He’s not sure Clint heard, words buried in the archer’s shoulder. The walk home is warm, pleasant, and absolutely terrifying.

They’re almost to the tower before the panic starts to set in, fears arising that this was all just a show, and that once they get inside he’ll be back to feeling cold and alone in a crowded house. Even if it wasn’t a show, he’s clingy, he knows it. They’ll get sick of him.

“To the couch.” Clint announces, pushing Tony down on the cushions, and lying on top of him. The panic recedes. He’s warm, he’s safe he can enjoy this.

Tony is worried that they’ll get tired of how clingy he is, so he has a plan. He gets one hour with them every day and then he needs to either work or sleep. As long as he leaves the room before they get tired of him. It’s a good plan.

“Tony, won’t you hang out for a movie after breakfast?” Clint asks, sliding an arm around his shoulder. Movies are normally at least 2 hours long, which puts him over the hour limit on snuggle time.

“I’d love to.” He admits, “But, I need to work on the suit.” He leans into Clint’s grasp anyways. “I really should work.”

“Yeah.” Clint says. “You can do that after we watch a movie though, right?” Watching movies and cuddling is normal, so maybe he can do two hours a day, and it will be okay.

“Right.” Tony agrees. “I can do that.” Clint might not even want to cuddle anyways. Which would mean it wouldn’t count as part of his hour, it only counts if there’s cuddling, right?

“Awesome, I could use a couple hours of snuggling.” Clint cheers, dragging Tony into the den. Well, if it’s Clint’s idea then he can’t accuse Tony of being clingy right. “You’re so warm, perfect for snuggling.” Tony nods absently.

“You sure?” Tony asks.


He doesn’t make it back to the lab after the movie, Clint slides in another disc and they stay curled up on the couch for hours. As much as Tony wants to say no, wants to make sure Clint doesn’t get tired of his clinginess, he can’t. He can’t say no, not when Clint’s arms are warm around him. He just holds on, waiting for the touching to die down.

He spends months waiting for Natasha to stop hugging him every time she sees him, or Steve to stop awkwardly hugging him when he makes new things. He waits for Bruce to stop inviting him to yoga, and helping him with positions. He waits for Thor to stop greeting him with tight hugs that lift his feet off the ground. He waits for Clint to stop inviting him to cuddle.

He waits for months until he realizes he’s not waiting anymore. He waits until he realizes they aren’t going anywhere.

@ifdragonscouldtalk and @dont-hurt-tony-stark I know you like these, <3

How to Motivate Yourself When You Just Don’t Feel Like it

I was feeling particularly unmotivated lately—unwilling to take my own advice, tired from work and cleaning at home, and wanting to use my weekend simply to relax. So, I decided to do Camp NaNoWriMo the night before it started. Now we are on day #2 and I’m hoping I can keep up with my daily goals.

I’m sure a lot of you are in the same boat OR you just want to get back into writing full-force. Here are a few ways to motivate yourself when you’re just not feeling it:

Why did you originally start writing?

Ask yourself what you like about writing a novel. I used to turn to writing as a form of relaxation, so I need to remind myself of that from time to time. It’s exciting to get lost in your own world and it’s good to put other responsibilities aside for an hour or two. Try to rediscover your love of writing or remind yourself why it makes you so happy. Keep it fun!

What are your goals?

I know my goal is to finish this novel by the end of the month (first draft). I try to visualize myself at the end of the month sitting on top of something I can be proud of. I know it will need a lot of work, but I’ll have something I can mess with. I’ll have some fully formed ideas. I try to keep that in mind when I become unmotivated. I want to finish this story and I want to have another novel under my belt. Try to remind yourself of your goals.

You can always move on to something else

If you’re not feeling your story and you’ve been at it for a long time, you don’t have to continue! A lot of people don’t have that option when working on a NaNoWriMo project, but you do have the option to take your story in a new direction. Don’t get stuck on a scene that’s not exciting for you, move on to something else.

Figure out why you’re not excited about your story

Most of the time, I realize that I haven’t fleshed out a scene enough OR I’m just not interested in writing that scene at all. There will be highs and lows in your novel, but you should be excited about almost all of the scenes you write. If you’re not, your readers won’t be either. Pinpoint why a particular scene or character, etc. is not motivating you in any way and try to find a way to fix it. Change the setting or consider cutting a character.

Dream cast your novel

This has helped me immensely with my new project. Before Camp NaNoWriMo started, I casted each character in my head and that’s helped me flesh out a lot of my story so far. It might sound like a silly idea, but it can really help you visualize scenes in a clearer way.

-Kris Noel

Imagination Lane // “Imagine This” Scenario #2: Bill Skarsgard

Originally posted by thebeautyandthatbass

(Warning: This is slightly long for an imagine scenario, but I couldn’t help but write this out. I’m also in a sappy Bill mood, and I needed this as soon as the idea struck me last night as I laid in bed trying to get to sleep. Shame on me lol.)

If you want to know what The First Fight Box is and what it entails, click here.

Imagine This: 

You and Bill have entered into your first serious argument as a married couple. A few months back, on your wedding day, you both created what you called “The First Fight Box,” and slipped letters inside for you both to read – when the time came. 

Today, the two of you have agreed to a small cease-fire within your heated argument and decided to open the box…

Keep reading