this is so old and i am emptying out my drafts

Hurry Home (Smut)

 A/N: This is kinda procrastination because I’m having a hard time finishing Redemption, but it’s coming along. I found this is my drafts so this is my “please don’t kill me Redemption is coming” phone sex. Also, I’d like to dedicate this to my lovely friend @sippingchai . Thank you for being as thirsty as I am lol. Enjoy ;)

You stretch your legs out as you sprawl across the bed making the most obnoxious noise. Opening your eyes, you look over and see an empty place in the bed where Shawn should be. The studio maybe? Who knows. You stand up and make your way downstairs to the living room to sit on the couch. You turn on Netflix to watch the next season of Dexter. You and Shawn usually watch it together, but you just can’t help yourself.

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Heat Stroke

Originally posted by bringmeblacksirens1

IT’S FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED WOO!

Prompt: Imagine working as a P.A. for Black Veil Brides on the set of Legion of the Black and having to take care of Andy when he passes out from heat stroke.

THIS IS PURE FLUFF BTW


“Cut!” Patrick shouted, and the music stopped. The director sighed and made inaudible gestures to the various crew surrounding him. I just shook my head, pushed the hair from my eyes, and pulled open the cheap cooler by my feet.

Ashley smiled, whooping in glee as he rest the neck of his guitar on the stage, running over to me. Everyone else soon followed suit.

“I honestly have no idea how you guys do this all day,” I said, astonished, as I handed a refreshing bottle of water to Jake and CC, “I mean, I checked on my phone, it’s a hundred and ten degrees.”

“Hah!” C.C. jabbed an accusing finger at Andy, “I called it! Over a hundred, pay up, Biersack!”

The singer rolled his eyes, “Yeah, fine, you win, I’ll give you the money later.”

Soon I had given all the band members a bottle, and an extra one for Jinxx. I was the official P.A. of the illustrious Black Veil Brides. When I got into the job I only did it because it sounded better than working at Wendy’s or some shit just to pay off student loans. I did not, however, think that it would involve going to the middle of the goddamn Sahara to film. I thought I would just have to run and get smoothies for arrogant douchebags. Instead I’m trapped in the southern part of hell, hoping I don’t burst into flames.

“Uuugh… Andy, you dick, why’d you say desert?” Ashley grumbled, running a hand through his sweaty hair, “we could be filming anywhere else and you chose the desert?”

“Shut up, it’ll look amazing,” Andy muttered a quick thanks to me before taking the bottle from my hand, his fingertips brushing against the side of my hand, “anyway, at least you’re not Alicia. You know how many scenes she’s gotta do tomorrow?”

Jinxx pitched in, “But Alicia’s makeup is just a bunch of smeared oil. I saw her pour some water on her hair earlier and wanted to punch something I was so jealous,” he added, “We get any water on our stuff and we’re screwed.”

I chuckled, nudging Jinxx’s side, “Why don’t you just boycott the makeup forever?”

“I’ll toast to that,” C.C. raised his almost empty water bottle like a champagne glass, “to never wearing makeup again!”

Eventually everyone was clinking their plastic bottles to a makeup-less future. Andy grinned, “At least we only have an hour left.”

Ashley choked on his water, his eyes wide with surprise, “At least an hour! At least!”

I rolled my eyes at Ashley’s shock, “Hey, keep in mind that the crew has to be out here till nightfall so you can both your mouths.” I said jokingly. Andy laughed, taking another sip of his drink. Although, it wasn’t as clear cut as I put it. Hence the title of the movie, ‘Legion of the Black’, the boys were clad in nothing but shiny black leather and cloth. I would take the white shorts and short sleeved t-shirt I had on over that any day. Overall, Andy probably had it the worst. He was up an extra hour before everyone else to do his scenes with Alicia, where they finished up Resurrect The Sun.

“All right everyone, we shoot in five!” Patrick called, and the boys groaned, throwing away their bottles into the spare bin near the tent.

Andy waved to me before running up to his stand and I flashed him a quick smile in return. I’ll admit, one of the best parts about this job was the boys. I’ve been working as a P.A. for about three years now and when I got drafted to work for an obscure, punk rock, heavy metal band called Black Veil Brides It almost made all the other countless jobs for assholes like Gene Hackman and Taylor Swift worth it. They didn’t treat me like trash, they smiled and talked to me before doing takes, and, when my boyfriend of three years dumped me, they comforted me, told me that he didn’t deserve me and overall made the whole experience hurt a lot less. I had no idea why, after a year of working with them on tour and during video shoots I still had no idea why I hadn’t been relocated to another movie shoot but Jesus, I’m thankful to work with people like them.

Just then I felt a buzz in my back pocket. I took out my phone and saw that it was Lisa. Usually I would stay and watch the boys preform but… Lisa hadn’t been able to call for a while and I did need to check up on her. The song they were shooting for, Abeyance, came on over the old boom box and they started to preform, so while I brought the phone to my ear, I walked away from the set and behind a tent.

“Hey, Y/N! Sorry I haven’t been able to call for a while. My asshat of a boss made me do overtime yesterday and I forgot to ring you up,” Lisa, my roommate back in Chicago, apologized profusely.

I snickered, “Forget it, it’s okay. Hopefully you’ll get the promotion soon and then you can make his life hell.”

“Ah, yes. Vengeance and spite. The two motivations that get me up in the morning,” I laughed, and began not paying attention to the music playing from the set.

“So how’s the desert been?” I gave her an exasperated groan. “…That bad, huh?”

“Lisa, it feels like I am in Satan’s anus it’s so hot, I feel like I’m going to combust into flames.” I heard her lowly whistle over the tone.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, that bitch Lindsey Lohan you filmed with a year ago just got arrested,” I gasped. Lindsey Lohan. Two years ago I was filming something with her and on the second day of the shoot she hadn’t turned up on set. The director, a nice girl if I remember right, asked Y/N, the brand new P.A., to go to Lindsey’s trailer and wake her up. When I knocked on the door she shouted at whoever was there to get out. I insisted that she was missing from the set and the director asked me to come get her. In response, she threw open the door of the trailer, poured half a bottle of scotch on my head, spit at me, and told me to fuck off. Needless to say, that was one of, if not the worst day of my life. So by now I was too deep in the conversation to notice that the music had stopped. “Yeah. Cops down in San Francisco had a hunch, you know? They thoughts they’d find some weed or something in her flat. Guess what they found?”

“What?” Distantly, I could hear something off in the direction of the set.

I could practically hear the malicious grin in her voice. “You name it. PCP, crack, LSD, everything under the sun.” I was bending over laughing I was so happy, and only stopped when I heard distressed shouting from the set.

“I know, right? She’ll be away for a long ti-“

The jokes forgotten, I was starting to feel panicked, “Listen, Lisa, something’s gone wrong on set. I’ll call you back,” and I promptly disconnected the call, stuffed my phone in my pocket and sprinted over to the set.

When the set came into view, a small crowd had gathered around the center of it. Brief panic turned to fear as I tried to push through the sea of people.

“Hey! What happened?” I asked one person, and I distinctively heard someone shout my name.

“There she is- Y/N! It’s Andy he… shit, he just…” I heard Ashley say and my worry spiked. Once I pushed through the crowd my eyes landed on the dusty desert ground and I felt my stomach drop. Andy had collapsed on the ground, face down on the sandy terra.

My breathing escalated and I crouched down beside Andy, my hand reaching to search for his pulse and inevitably located the steady beat of his heart somewhere down his neck. I looked up at Ashley questioningly, “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know! Everything was normal and suddenly Andy just dropped.” I was about to try and wake him up when I heard Patrick’s angry shouts from across the scattered crowd.

“Heat stroke! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Biersack. Of all the days to beauty sleep you chose today of all days!” He ranted and I felt my blood boil.

Sir,” I growled with an edge of bitterness, “Andy has just passed out. And it’s not unbelievable with this sun. Therefore, I will be taking him to his trailer to be sure that he is alright. And if you have any complaints you can take it up with the medic you surely hired just in case something like this would happen.” The director’s face paled. He knew just what I was implying. I had strongly urged as an experienced P.A, that going to film in the desert and not hire a medic because of funds was incredibly risky and incredibly illegal, which worked well in my favor.

Jinxx snickered at Patrick’s face and C.C. had to suppress laughter. I slipped an arm around Andy’s shoulder and tried to lift him. Ashley noticed and helped me get him upright. Despite his slim frame, he was surprisingly heavy.

“Hey, Y/N?” Ashley asked as I pulled open the door to the band’s trailer. I hummed in response, the majority of my attention devoted to helping Andy and making sure he was okay. “Thanks for sticking up for Andy back there. Patrick is seriously a huge hard-ass and needs to let up on him.”

I shook my head, “You better be fucking grateful, I probably just lost my job over you jerks,”

Ashley beamed, “Come on, you know you can always find a job with us. Personal butler sounds quite fitting.” Resisting the urge to shove the guitarist was almost too great.

“Oh shut up and help me get this idiot into bed.”


Ashley went back to the set to smooth things over with Patrick, leaving me alone with the barely conscious Andy. He hadn’t exactly awoken but had taken to mumbling, his eyelids shut tightly. His skin was suspiciously dry but flushed red and burning. Jinxx called me earlier and said that Patrick, being the cheap prick he is, wouldn’t waste hundreds of dollars for a doctor to inspect what he called ‘a fever’ and said that I had to get Andy back on his feet by tomorrow. That bastard… I’m working off of symptoms that I googled on fucking WebMD, how am I supposed to deal with this?

“Mmm… M’it hurts…” Andy mumbled.

I hummed, “I know, just hold on…” Finally, I found what I was looking for on the shitty website.

Heatstroke treatment centers on cooling your body to a normal temperature to prevent or reduce damage to your brain and vital organs. To do this, your doctor may take these steps: Immerse you in cold water. A bath of cold or ice water can quickly lower your temperature.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” There weren’t any baths in the trailer, or showers for that matter. It wasn’t an RV, just a rental trailer.

An idea popped into my head. Maybe not as effective as a bath but it might do the trick. I grabbed a spare rag from the drawer, dipped it in water and ringed it out until it was cool and damp.

“Okay, this might sting,” I mumbled to myself, seeing as how Andy probably couldn’t even hear me. I gently pressed the towel to Andy’s forehead and he instantly recoiled with a wince.

“Yeah, I get it hurts but please just stay still.” He twitched here and there but after a while he kept still and let me work. Everything was going perfectly well until his mumbling got more prominent. Originally, it was just funny, as he started talking about cats and batman, some strange dream he must’ve been having, but then everything went downhill when I started hearing my name fall from his lips.

“Y/N…” He muttered, and I spun around from my spot in the kitchen. I shook my head, thinking I must’ve just misheard him or something. But it happened again, this time sounding more like plea.

Cautiously, I walked over to him, setting the thermostat on the end table beside the couch. “Andy, you awake?” But he gave no response. He just repeated my name again. By now I had begun to notice a small bead of sweat forming on his temple, despite the fact that I had managed to get his temperature to a normal balance half an hour ago.

“Please… no…” He started turning from side to side, his hands twitching and clenching in his hand.

What the hell? “Andy, it’s okay, I’m right here,” I said softly, trying to wrestle his hands to be still. He didn’t slow, only becoming more and more anxious.

“Can’t… hurt her,” and now even his shoulders were spazzing out, “get… out…”

Now, as it was probably easy to guess, trying to hold down a convulsing, 6’4 heat stoke patient who was at least a foot taller than you is pretty difficult and I ended up with my legs trying to pin down his torso and my hands holding down his arms.

“Andy, please calm down!” I shouted, trying to wake up the singer.

“Love…her…can’t hurt…her…”

My heart skipped a beat when his words reached my ears. Realization hit me, a baseball bat swung to my chest and Jesus, it hit a home run. Andy, my best friend for over a year, was having a nightmare about me.

“Andy, come on, it’s just a dream, wake up!” His words were rattling in my head. In his tired voice was genuine concern. And there were those few syllables that I couldn’t ignore. Just two, though. ‘Love her’

What did that mean? He surely didn’t mean any more than a friend, right?

He didn’t wake up at all. His twitching only increased to painful thrashing. I couldn’t hold his legs down anymore and I could only barely hold his arms down to the couch. It felt like I was riding a bull it was so difficult. If I let him go he would surely have a stroke.

“Andy, please stop it!” I shouted, and still nothing. So I did all I could do. Without actually thinking things through, I leaned my head down and quickly pressed my lips to his, praying that it might calm him down.

His limbs stilled, the only tremor remaining was a small twinge in his fingertips. Kissing him felt… nice. His lips were surprisingly smooth, and I forgot to pull away. Then, after a few more extended seconds of chaste kisses, I felt a small pressure on the back of my neck, creeping up and tangling itself in my hair. My eyes went wide and I pulled away to see Andy’s bright blue eyes staring back at me, a victorious sparkle within the hue. He was smiling widely, and I grasped the compromising position the two of us were in.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” I shouted as I sprung off of him like a startled cat, scrambling back to the kitchen, blushing furiously.

He laughed, “How else is it supposed to look? Y/N, I knew you liked me but in my sleep, I never would’ve guessed!”

Thoughts ran through my head madly and I had no idea what to do. I mean, how the hell do you even respond to that? “Andy, please-“

The singer stood up, still chuckling mildly, “Last thing I remembered was passing out on set and then someone kissing me? I half expected it to be C.C. giving me mouth to mouth or some shit, so you can see how I was pleasantly surprised.” He droned on, walking over to me as I grew more and more embarrassed. I just kiss my boss when he was sleeping. That was a fucking line I really shouldn’t have crossed.

“I’m sorry, please just let me explain-“ My hands gipped at the edges of the kitchen sink as he approached me.

“I mean, Jake and Ashley said that there’s no way she would make the first move, C.C. said that you did. Guess I owe him ten bucks, huh?” My head was lowered as I came to terms with what was about to happen.

“I’ll get my shit in the after the shoot,” I forced the words out of my clogged throat, my hands shaking.

He raised an eyebrow, “Wait, what?”

I turned around to look at him slowly, “I’m fired, right? I just fucking kissed my boss while he was sleeping…”

He shook his head, “Y/N-“

“Even though I only did it because you got heat stroke and were having a nightmare and some kind of seizure and you were just spazzing on the couch and there really wasn’t anything I could do because Patrick was too cheap to hire a goddamn medic and I-“

“Y/N, listen-”

“Well I did all that I could do but I’m just a P.A. and it was stupid of me to think we were friends and even when I may have thought it was more I just tried to help you so I got on top of you because your legs were shaking and I-“ That was when he grabbed my arm and leaned down in front of me.

“Please, just calm down. I’m not going to fire you, that’s stupid.” He spoke slowly, like he understood the boiling point I was falling over.

I stood, bewildered and backed up against the kitchen sink, registering the space, or lack thereof, between us. “Y/N, what I wanted to say is that I really enjoyed that, okay?”

“What… are you saying…” The very concept of someone else ever enjoying kissing with me was so foreign I couldn’t even fathom it.

“Jesus, you’re dense,” Andy whispered, before pressing his lips against mine. Even though I had done the exact same thing moments before, I still felt utterly taken aback when he initiated it, though. The fireworks were more prominent, they were brighter than before. Electricity sparked though my skin as his hands slipped down to my side to rest on my hips. The taste of the hot sun of his still-warm lips was addictive and I couldn’t get enough of it. The only thing that made me pull away was the burning need for oxygen in my lungs.

“Wow,” I gasped out, taking deep breaths of air.

He grinned, “Yeah… wow.”

After a moment of awkward silence, he said, “So, maybe after we get out of the goddamn Sahara desert, think maybe we could get a coffee or something?”


I fucking loved/hated writing this. I mean, I was considering turning this into smut but I honestly have no idea how to actually write smut. I mean I read it plenty, who doesn’t, but really I have no blues clues how to do this shit.

Anybody got any tips for me?

@corruptedkid @mcrxreader @pink-samurai-glitter @vawkwardme @blackveilbridesfanfiction-com @heymoonrydenwasreal @maddiemoo16602

Bucky Imagine #5 | Girls

Originally posted by elaacreditava


God, the sweetness of daddy Bucky is just tooth rotting, isn’t it? That man was born to be a father. <3 

Warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of smutty themes

Side note, this has been sitting in my drafts for like… 4 weeks 


The sound of little feet pattered in the hallway just outside the bedroom door. Hushed whispers made Bucky grin to himself but kept his eyes shut, feigning sleep. The old hinges creaked when cherub hands pushed them open and three new little bodies scaled the comforter like expert rock climbers. They weren’t as stealthy as they believed themselves to be but Bucky played along with their game, staying as still as possible. 

“Daddy?” The youngest of the girls asked, poking directly over one of his closed eyelids. He chuckled, popping open his eyes and scooping them up in his arms. 

“Gotcha!” 

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Auston Matthews #2 - Game Six

@memz-elizabeth- asked: Hi can i get an imagine please? Can i get an Auston Matthews one about the loss of the Stanley cup? a lot of fluff and cuteness please! thanks

So sorry this came out much later than expected. I think I caught a cold from a friend of mine who neglected to tell me she was sick and that I shared a drink with. This was super fun to write because who doesn’t love fluff? I know I do. I hope you enjoy this! 


The great thing about game six of the playoffs taking place at home was that you got to see your boyfriend Auston play live. What wasn’t so great was them losing and you having to watch first hand as they skated heartbroken off of the ice. When all of the parents and significant others gathered to meet them outside of the locker room you went as well but hung towards the back. You wanted Auston to see his parents first since he would likely be riding back with you. It had been Mitch’s turn to drive the carpool and by you bringing your car it gave Auston the room to decide if he wanted to be alone or not.

Your phone buzzed with condolences for Auston from your friends and you answered a few as you waited for your boyfriend to emerge. Auston was one of the last ones out likely because the media wanted to pester him with questions and he made a beeline for his parents, not noticing you. Though usually towering over people with his broad shoulders and 6’3” frame, the way he hunched in on himself gave the impression he was much smaller. You made no attempt to move from your spot against the wall. This was a private moment for Auston and his family and you didn’t want to interrupt.

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Storms (Chapter Six)

One of my favorite chapters. Couldn’t wait to share it with you guys. The healing is wonderful and the sweetness is wonderful. Love these two.

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)

***************

So it still wasn’t easy, not even close, but things were getting better, finally.

Thor made three meals a day, and true to his word, Tony ate a little bit each time. Sometimes he was sick almost immediately after, and other times, he would rub his stomach with a sort of pleased look on his face and Thor would grin so broadly he thought his face would split.

Thor made him go outside, taking walks to get fresh air and sunshine on his face until Tony’s cheeks were red and his hair was windblown. Tony even started coming along on grocery trips, picking out what he wanted to eat, even going so far as to pick out things he could cook, and every once in awhile Tony would make a meal just for Thor.

He smiled more, never those heart stopping, full on charming grins from before, but small private smiles just for Thor in little moments of humour or when Thor was being especially sweet.

They kissed most days, when Tony would tug on Thor’s hand shyly and tilt his head up for one. Most times he wouldn’t kiss back, just smile a little and pull away. But sometimes, something would spark between them, and Thor was helpless against it, when Tony would suddenly kiss him back eagerly and make that soft little noise like he was desperate. Those were the moments it took a large amount of Thors self control to pull away, those moments when Tony was pressing against him for more, scratching his nails down Thor’s chest and nipping at Thor’s lips to deepen the embrace.

Thor stayed with him almost every night now, too, as long as Tony was sober. He refused to sleep in the bed if Tony was drunk, not willing to put either of them in a position to go too far and give Tony a reason to be upset in the morning. The bad days were coming fewer and farther in between, and Thor counted each good day as a victory.

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Hello Neighbour

Characters: Tony x Reader

Summary: Living next door to Tony Stark is, unsurprisingly, a little bit of a nightmare but how much could you take before you are seriously planning to sneak in and murder the inconsiderate ass in his sleep?

Word Count: 2041 words

Prompt “You’re my new neighbor, but I know you’re stealing my wifi to watch porn. Can you not?”

A/N:  This is for @bionic-buckyb and her fabulous challenge.  Thanks for the prompt sweetie. xx

You weren’t usually a passive aggressive note kinda person and as you found yourself scribbling yet another post-it note for the inconsiderate asshole who had moved into the apartment next door you let out a frustrated growl.  It had started innocently enough.  The wonderful, amazing gay couple that you adored moved out into a gorgeous, much larger condo and you had waited the arrival of your new neighbour with a little trepidation but general hope.  You had been at work when they moved in and upon entering the hall you’d had to climb over several boxes just strewn about the place with a frown.  It was okay though, perhaps they were moving in by themselves and with the parking restrictions had to get everything in the building as quickly as possible.  You got how stressful moving was so you let it slide.  When the thumping bass caused your bed to vibrate so much it woke you at 3am you had simply taken a steadying breath and tried to focus on the fact that your new neighbour was still unpacking at this hour and deserved your pity, the music was probably just to keep them awake to finish what they could.

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orange coloured sky (1/?)

summary: when magnus hired a new gardener for the summer, he didn’t expect his new employee to be accompanied by cold drinks, long talks, and sunsets, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain - aka. the gardener / summer job au no one asked for
pairing: magnus bane/alec lightwood
tags: pre-relationship, summer jobs flirting, gardens & gardening

for the beautiful birthday girl @magnusbaene <3

can also be read on ao3

There’s a light knock on the front door, making Magnus look up from his laptop where he’s been emerged in work for the last couple of hours.

It’s a little past noon and the sun is shining brightly through the windows and into Magnus’ office. He’d decided to work from home today, wanting to be here to meet his new gardener.

As he makes his way through the house to greet his guest, he’s mentally preparing himself to be met by some lanky teenager with greasy hair and bad posture.

Simon had called a few weeks ago to let him know that he wasn’t able to work as Magnus’ gardener this summer, like he had for the past three years, due to pre-college activities. He’d immediately promised to find someone else to do it, and Magnus had automatically thought it’d be one of Simon’s high school buddies.

The reality, as he opens the door, is much different, but Magnus is definitely not about to complain.

The man in front of him is far from a lanky teenager. Sure, he’s tall, but the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretches over his muscular chest, defined arms showing underneath the cuffed sleeves, makes it clear that he didn’t graduate high school yesterday.

“Hi, I’m Alec,” the man says, a lopsided smile on his face as he offers Magnus his hand.

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Fuck You;  Bill Skarsgard

bill x female reader


“If you want me, you will never speak to her or see her again. If you want to do those things, you will never speak to me or see me again. Still sure about you choice?”

“Of course, yes, she’s gone. I swear.”

“Do it now.”

He swallowed hard and grabbed his phone, his hands shaking the entire time.

“Bill, do you have feelings for her?”

“No, no I could never.”

“Now is the time to admit it. You need to tell me the absolute truth right now.”

“I know that I love you..” he trailed off and averted his gaze from mine, “but I just feel really close to her for some reason. She’s like my best friend, I feel like a part of me would be missing if I were to just completely close her off.”

“You’ve made your choice then,” I closed my eyes tightly to keep the tears from escaping without my consent.

“No,” he grabbed my hand before I could turn to leave the room, “I can’t lose you. Please understand how hard this is for me.”

“It’s easy, Bill. If you love me and want this to work, you’ll get rid of anything that stands in the way of our relationship. This isn’t just a crush, someone you’ve randomly fantasized about in your bunk when you’re lonely. You’ve slept with her more than once. There is a connection between the two of you.”

“That’s why it’s hard.”

“Because there’s a connection? That’s because you have feelings. If you have feelings for someone while you’re in a relationship you aren’t fully committed and you aren’t really in love with that person.”

“That isn’t true, I am in love with you. It’s different with her.”

“No, Bill, it isn’t. Tell me right now, can you erase her from your life?”

“That’s not fair.”

“So the answer is no?”

“I can’t just toss her to the curb like that.”

“So you cannot erase her from your life completely?”

“No.”

He couldn’t look at me. His green eyes were glued to the ground and I wanted nothing more than for him to say it was just a stupid mistake and that he loved me and that she was nothing. He couldn’t though. Despite whatever he said, whatever feelings he had for me, he had them for her too. They were different, they were probably stronger. The tears threatened to fall again.

“I really thought you were the love of my life and I don’t even think that’s a thing. I never bought into the idea of soulmates until I met you. I knew going into this would be hard because you’re fucking famous,” my voice wavered slightly, “but I thought we could make it work because you were the one.”

Bill’s cheeks reddened and he couldn’t make direct eye contact with me. I knew it was over and I knew that I would spend who knows how long trying to get over the fact that I had lost him because I wasn’t able to travel the world by his side.

“You were the one. Not now though, now your feelings are for someone else and I can’t do anything about it. I love you so much and I wish it was enough but it just isn’t.”

“I never meant for this happen. I never wanted to hurt you.”

It was an admission of guilt. Bill had fallen in love with someone else while I was on the other side of the world and there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do was let him go and try to put myself back together, post Bill Skarsgard.

“I love you so much, please don’t forget that. I have loved you since that stupid party we met at. You spilled your beer on my shoes and I was so pissed but you were so wonderful and kind. I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”

“I-i’m so sorry.”

The words themselves seemed to tremble as they left his lips. Tears didn’t escape past his eyes, though. His mouth didn’t curve into a frown that was so desperately trying not to cry.

He didn’t want to hurt me, but he was happy it was over. He was happy it was over because he was ready to move on.

And that, he did.

*

“BILL SKARSGARD AND STYLE ICON GIRLFRIEND SPLIT AFTER THREE YEARS OF ROMANCE.”

The headline was splashed across the pages of all of the pathetic tabloids.

“FAHSION DESIGNER LEAVES ACTOR IN FIT OF RAGE AND JEALOUSY.”

“BILL SKARSGARD CHEATS! THE STAR HAS MULTIPLE SECRET RELATIONSHIPS.”

“HE NEVER LOVED ME! FASHIONISTA TELLS ALL!”

I had tried my hardest to completely forget him, but it was difficult when he was so ridiculously famous. In the three years since we had broken up, his acting career had skyrocketed, and so had the career of his stylist. She had become one of the most prominent designers in the fashion world.

At first they were lovely and smiles, but photos of them looking incredibly unhappy had recently graced the covers of magazines and there were constant rumors of the both of them being unfaithful.

The emails had started about a month ago and I had ignored every single one of them. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to speak to him, it was that I couldn’t. Bill had done a number on me and I wasn’t going to let him do it again.

Not only had he cheated on me, which led to him falling love with someone else and breaking my heart, he did it so the world could see. They were a confirmed couple to the media just days after our own break up. Bill had always claimed our relationship was important and special and that was why he didn’t want to share it with anyone.

His fans praised them, saying they were adorable and a perfect fit and it was “finally time for Bill to settle down.”  He had already settled down though. We had lived together for quite some time and it was incredibly painful watching him move out and returning home to an empty apartment.

I backed out of the lease a month later, luckily my landlord understood and let me go without paying extra fees. It was too hard living in a place with all of our memories. It was too hard scrolling through Twitter while laying in OUR bed and seeing photos of them together acting like newlyweds.

The newlywed phase was over now though. Scrolling through my inbox, I opened Bill’s latest email.

“I wish you would just talk to me. You changed your number, you moved out of our apartment. It’s like you’re trying to make it seem like I was never here. I was though, I still am. I love you.”

I spent the next two days debating whether I should respond to him, maybe just to let him know that i’m still alive. Sitting down at my laptop, I typed up a quick draft of what I would send.

It was the typical “don’t worry” type of email and I may have allowed my feelings to get the best of me by telling him that I missed him and there was a part of me that would always love him.

A week or so passed with no response. He was in the middle of a world tour, so it made sense. Logging into Twitter, I saw that his name was a trending topic. What I saw when I opened the first article nearly caused me to have a heart attack.

“THEY’RE BACK ON! BILL SKARSGARD ENGAGED TO FASHION MOGUL! TRUE LOVE NEVER DIES!”

He had spent months sending me emails of things he had written, which he claimed were about me. He had attached photos of himself and his friends goofing around and all of the beautiful parts of the world he had captured. All this time, never being able to speak to me or even getting the satisfaction of a response but he kept doing it.

It reminded me of when we first met, how at first he was so caring and tried his hardest to make sure I didn’t feel alone when he was on set. The recent emails were just like the texts and phone calls he had sent on his first movie after we moved in together. They were hopeful. They were probably bullshit then, and definitely bullshit now.

What got me the most were all of the apologies he had sent. Always saying that he made a mistake by leaving and made an even bigger mistake by outing their relationship so now he couldn’t get away without the media scrutiny and that he grown to hate her but he had to pretend he didn’t. He said he loved how it was never like that with me, it was never about paparazzi photos or red carpets. It was just about us and he would do anything to get that back if I would just give him a chance. He claimed what we had was “real” and what they had was fabricated and so much different behind closed doors.

Here he was now, pictured in Times fucking Square, one of the busiest, most visible places in the goddamn world, down on one knee giving a giant diamond to someone he “completely loathed.”

Bill had grown to love the attention. The Bill I knew was gone and had been replaced by this spotlight loving asshole. The traces of the old him only left in my memories and in some of the emails I would never respond to again. He had learned to manipulate everyone around him and it made me wonder how much of what he had been saying to me was just a lie to get me back on his side.

Probably all of it.

Trying to collect my scattered thoughts and slow my racing heart, I fired off one last email to Bill.

“Fuck you.”

get real | isaiah/reader

i had anon requests for isaiah fluff and sneaking around/getting caught

“I need a place to stay”

Isaiah stepped aside in the doorway, letting you in the house.

“What happened?”

“Ughhh…me and Polly had a fight” you waved your hand “let’s not”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need some space. Your dad home?”

“Nah, won’t be back tonight. We’re safe” He pecked a kiss to your temple, moving behind you to set the kettle going. He can’t have been home long, his coat draped over the chair, his pockets half emptied onto the table top. He was down to his shirt with his sleeves rolled up. He looked at home.

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Promise

You guys. I am absolutely excited and extremely elated to share Athelas’ Post Trespasser story. The brainchild of my imagination and @solverne‘s genius ways of translating them into words and thus, creating this magnificent piece about Athelas and Solas’ experiences post Trespasser. 

It has always been a dream for me to have her full story written out and @solverne, the gorgeous and lovely @solverne offered to take on this and write them out for me, after I shared the rough draft of the story with her. She was magnificent and she captured Athelas so perfectly it made me cried so much, and having it completed, right in front of my eyes after a week of discussions.. I’m just so overwhelmed with emotions, it’s a dream come true and this just made me fell more and more in love with my girl and Solas. 

I really do hope they get their happy ending down the road.

Please enjoy it. :’)


Athelas Lavellan x Solas | Post-Trespasser | Angst central, Mild fluff | 20K Words

Original story by me, the lovely writing by @solverne




“My love… I will never forget you.”

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To The Trenches

starblissuniverse submitted:

     Henry sat alone at his desk. Papers cluttered his drawing board and the trash bin next to his desk was over filled with pieces of crumpled up paper. Worst of all, his coffee mug was empty. It was a Friday night, soon to be an early Saturday morning. The silence around him made this overwhelming feeling of sadness much worse. 

How was he going to tell Joey?

    The paper in Henry’s hands had just turned his world upside down, but the words on the page spoke very clear. So clear in fact, he thought it couldn’t be true. Henry was being drafted into the war. So many questions zoomed through his head as he read the letter over and over again. Why was he being drafted? How long would he be serving the army? Would be a soldier or a pilot? What would happen to the studio during his absence? Nothing too bad…right? With a heavy sigh, Henry gripped the paper even tighter, and re-read the words on the page. 

“To whom it may concern;

Greetings, 

       Having submitted yourself to a local board composed of your neighbors for the purpose of determining your availability for training and service in the land or naval forces of the United States, you are hereby notified that you have now been selected for training and service therein.

      You will, therefore, report to the local board named above: Heartford Railroad Station, at 8:30 AM, on April 17th, 19XX. 

      We thank you for submitting yourself to your local board in the name of the United States of America. Upon arrival to your induction station, you will medically examined. If you pass, you will be inducted into the land forces of the United States Army.

Thank you for your cooperation.”

     Henry shut his eyes. Joey was going to be enraged! Henry himself was angry…he was being taken away from his passion. Why now? He had so much to gain from working in the animation industry. Now he was being drafted to go fight in the trenches. It was…overwhelming. His biggest fear was letting Joey find out. He was going to have to tell him in person. He’d have to hope for the best that Joey wouldn’t blow it out of proportion. Henry glanced his wall clock. It was 11:52 PM. He should be home by now…but he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways. April 17th is just a week away. Henry knew that this draft meant he would be leaving everything behind. He couldn’t just leave that quickly. His life’s work laid here, on his drawing board. His life’s work…was put into that little Dancing Demon.. 

    Henry pulled out a drawing or two he had been working on earlier that day, before he received the letter. Both of the drawings were drawings of Bendy. They were some fun doodles he decided to do for the new short; A Dance with the Devil’. Henry was excited to be releasing another short so soon, it seemed liked the kids really enjoyed Bendy and his friends. A faint smile grew on Henry’s face. Maybe the draft wouldn’t be so bad? He could easily mail his drawings to Joey. He could still enjoy drawing in general in his free time. The hardest part of the draft would just be…leaving home. With a heavy sigh, he began to clean up his work area. After straightening his drawings and cleaning out his trash bin, he gathered his paperwork and set it all in his briefcase. 

Suddenly there was a knock on his door.

     Henry looked up, and raised an eyebrow. Who is here at this late hour? The door slowly opened, and a friendly face peeked in. None other than Joey Drew. The long silence was broke. “Evenin’ Henry, you’re still here this late again I see?” Joey asked in a playful tone. Henry gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, just been gettin’ some of the old ideas out onto some hard paper. You know me.” Henry said. Joey smiled, walking into the room. “That’s all good…mind if I see some?” he asked. Henry walked away from his brief case and over to his drawing board. He picked up a few sheets of paper and handed them to Joey. “Nothin’ special really. Just some doodles for the new short. I’ll have more by the…end of the week.” Henry said, his tone softening as he finished his sentence. Joey glanced over them. “I like all of these, they’ll make good material for the animation.” Joey said, handing the papers back. “Thanks.” Henry said, setting them back down. 

    Joey looked over at Henry’s briefcase and gave a small playful smirk. “C’mon now Henry, we all know you keep the good drawings and story boards in your world famous brief case.” Joey said as he walked over. Henry’s entire body froze, and he felt his blood run ice cold. He quickly walked over. “Haha..yep. Here let me get them for you.. its a mess in there..-” Henry stated as he tried to take the brief case. Joey raised a brow. “What’s with the pale look Henry? It’s not like you’ve got anything like bomb codes in here right?” Joey stated in a joking tone. Joey opened the briefcase and pulled out  a handful of paperwork. The drafting letter must’ve been somewhere in the middle, because he started shuffling through papers as he glanced over them. “C’mon now Joey, quit peeking in on my drawings would ya’?” Henry said as he tried to grab them from across the desk. “It’s not like I haven’t seen any of your other drawings befo-”. Joey was suddenly stopped. His eyes were caught to a certain paper, like a moth to a light. As his eyes darted from one side of the page to another, his pupils shrunk, and his eyes were wide. He had found it. 


    Henry gulped. Joey’s expression turned from playfulness, to anger. He took a moment before slamming the rest of Henry’s papers onto his desk, and he held one single paper in his hands as he held it up to Henry. Henry didn’t know what to say. But Joey already beat him to it. 

 “You’ve been…drafted? And you didn’t tell ME?”


    The anger in Joey’s voice made it clear that he was not happy with this turn of events. Henry had to speak, he had to defend himself. “Now listen here Joey, I just received that letter today! I’m just as angry and surprised as you are! I was planning to tell you but not tonight! Its late.” Henry said as he took the paper. Joey scoffed. “Right, cause that’s always an excuse! Are you seriously going to go?” Joey asked. Henry gave a confused look. “What do you mean am I going to go? Joey, I have to! They’ve drafted me! I can’t just ignore that! I could go to jail!” Henry said, stuffing the letter back into his briefcase. Joey walked up to him. “How can you just leave everything behind?! I’ve put everything into his company, you can’t just leave!” Joey said. Henry glared at him. “WE’VE put everything into this company Joey, you weren’t the only one who used hard cash out of his pocket to help pay for this studio! I’m just as upset as you about having to go.” Henry said looking at him as he gathered his coat. Joey’s glare narrowed. 



    “You seem to forget Henry that I’m the boss around here, I call the shots! If you up and leave here because of some ridiculous draft, I won’t wait up for you, Neither will Sammy or Susie!” Joey stated in a angry tone. Henry looked at Joey, processing his words. Henry stopped buttoning his coat and spoke. “Are you tellin’ me that because I’ve been pulled into something which I had no control over, that you’re gonna fire me?” he asked. Joey clapped. “Congrats! You figured the riddle out! Yes that’s what I mean Henry!! Don’t you dare think for a minute that I’ll keep a needed seat open for someone who may not come back alive!” Joey exclaimed. Henry felt himself begin to boil. He shoved by Joey and grabbed his briefcase. “Fine, if you’re gonna get your man-panties in a twist, than go ahead and fire me! See if I care! They’re plenty of other animation studios out there I can work for Joey!” Henry said as he threw his hat on. Joey snorted angrily. “Fine. Whatever Henry. You’re done. And don’t you dare think about coming back, that is if you even come back alive!” Joey yelled as Henry walked out of the building. 



    Henry continued walking, further and further away from his dreams. He felt so guilty, raising his voice as Joey, his long time best friend. But what’s done is done. Henry felt in the back of his mind that nothing would go wrong since he’s gone. Maybe he can revisit Joey once he returns from the war…nothing big should’ve changed by then, right? Just an old animation studio and his friend. Nothing drastic will happen, and nothing will change while he’s gone. Nothing.



And that’s what Henry told himself until the day he returned. 

___

[Pssst Hey its Starbliss again, I wrote this short story up about Henry getting drafted and how it pretty much ended his friendship with Joey? I hope you enjoy!]

Yo daaaaang this is pretty brutal dude!!  Poor Henry, yikes…

miss jesus | michael gray

anon wanted isaiah’s sister and michael

Michael was desperately trying to finish these books before the meeting on Thursday. He’d be three pages ahead if everyone outside would just shut up already. After three glares at the closed office door, he pushed up from the desk, abandoning the jumbled accounts spread across the desk.

He wrenched the door open, stepping out into the huddle. He was ready to start his tirade when the crowd burst into laughter once again.

“And then this one-“there was a pause as he pushed through the barrier of men between him and the cause of the noise. When he broke though he saw Isaiah with his head dipped, shaking off his embarrassment with a lopsided grin. There was a woman perched on the edge of the counting desk, pointing right at him with a beam on her face.

“This one goes arse over tit, straight into the cut, and the horse goes bolting off”

The circle burst into hysterics once more and Michael scowled, looking around as if everyone had lost their senses. He turned to catch Tommy’s eye, chuckling to himself as he leaned on a support beam across the gathering.

“Alright everyone. Storytime’s over. Back to work” he untucked his hands from his pockets and gestured for everyone to move away. He clipped Isaiah’s shoulder as he passed, giving it a reassuring shake “Alright, Michael?”

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anonymous asked:

I find you as a very important part of Obitine fandom (your art keeps this ship alive!!) and I'm thankful for that. Also i have a question: how do you imagine Obi-Wan after Satine's death? I think he could live with this, he is a Jedi after all. But i believe he had one huge break down when he cried so much he couldn't breathe (and maybe drunk some alcohol??? idk man) and Anakin did comfort him. These are my thoughts I wanna hear yours! And sorry for this ask being so long, hope you don't mind!

Aw, sweet anon, you make me blush, but everybody in the fandom is important! I’m glad you like the art, but your liking it is keeping the ship shipping along too, otherwise I‘d just be tossing sketches into the abyss of the internet.  <3<3<3  And there are lots of lovely artists in this corner of fandom, most of whom have been here longer than me.

Your (sad) question:

I’m not sure I think that Obi-Wan has much time to grieve for a while after Satine’s death? It’s unclear what the timeline is between The Lawless and Sabotage, but it seems close to me.

In general, I think after Satine’s death might be when Obi-Wan’s friendship with Padmé grows (they seem closer in RotS than they were during Clone Wars), since she was friends with Satine as well. I’m not sure he’d ever say much about it, just quietly enjoy Padmé’s company, knowing that she’s thinking of Satine and missing her too.

Anyway, I wrote you a little scene set during the Sabotage/The Wrong Jedi arc, but it’s pretty depressing.

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Multitudes - Part 3

1 / 2

*Read on AO3*

Oh my goodness, I am SO sorry it’s taken me so long to update this, guys. I actually started a new fic and put all of my attention into that for a while, to then decide I wasn’t as in love with it as I initially thought. I never wanted to abandon Multitudes, I was just waiting for inspiration to strike and, finally, it did! So, I really hope that you enjoy this chapter, and I promise this story now has my undivided attention again. I’m self conscious of my writing as always, so please go easy on me. I just don’t think I can bear to stare at it sat in my drafts and pick it apart for a second longer, haha! Thanks for all the love, and I promise part 4 will be very soon. <3 

——————————————————

“Dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

“I’m so sorry, B,” Veronica exclaimed, handing Betty a hot chocolate topped with an excessive amount of marshmallows and cream, despite her initial objections. “I should’ve been there with you.”

“Veronica,” she insisted, “stop apologising. It’s ok. Really.”

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Once Upon A Time [Pt. 1]

Summary: In a universe very different from the one Charles is used to, you’re a bartender. But just because you live in a world filled with princesses and magic and singing chipmunks doesn’t mean life’s a fairytale - a lesson Charles is soon to figure out for himself. (A Charles Xavier Enchanted!AU)

Warnings: A couple swears, Charles is probably pretty ooc, my bad :3

Word count: 1500

A/N: I’m writing this for @hunters-from-stark-tower ’s AU challenge, and I’m so so sorry it took so long!!!! I have like five drafts of this first chapter because I couldn’t find a good way to write it, but I think I’ve got a handle on it now :D I hope you guys like it!!

Originally posted by maryanne-spears-timberlake

In hindsight, Charles really should have expected something like this to happen.

Well, maybe that was asking too much of himself, but when had any X-men fight not included a curve ball? He probably should have noticed that it was too easy from the start, and that something extraordinary and/or disastrous was on its way.

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anonymous asked:

Hi. Not to creep u put but I found your blog and was scrolling through like heaps and was wondering if you could post more stuff about house hunting. -your new anonymous follower

hi! not creepy at all although i am about to disappoint you: i don’t really have the right temperament to watch ‘house hunters’ or any other reality show by myself. conflict makes me nervous and i have an extraordinarily low threshold for second-hand embarrassment.

the only conditions under which i can make it through an evening of house hunters are if i’m watching with friends who are bothered by the same things i am, alcohol is involved, and if we all agree it’s ok to spend the whole time yelling at the screen (”PLEASE PLEASE STOP SAYING YOU WANT ‘PLANTATION CHARM’ WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “SORRY ABOUT YOUR DOOMED RELATIONSHIP” “GHIRARDELLI IS NOT ‘THE MOST ICONIC PART’ OF SAN FRANCISCO, FUCK YOU!”)

the post about the wife who wants a castle and the husband who wants a floating orb was, in my own way, an attempt to work through my lingering discomfort. i had to leave out the most bonkers stuff that actually happened during the like six episodes we watched, including:

  • a couple who works out their conflict by talking in cartoony stereotypical italian accents, complete with fake italian names. the empty look on the realtor’s face when she explained to the camera, ‘uh so i’ve met lucenzo and luchenza…’ was a piece of very sad modern art
  • a dude who wanted to live so far out in the middle of nowhere that we got real concerned the episode was gonna turn into a murder mystery
  • a woman who believes in ghosts to the point where she wouldn’t move into a ten year old house without conducting a sage ceremony
  • seriously more than one person on this show (and it’s always the wife or girlfriend, it’s never the dude) who just wants that “plantation charm.” listen, you were born in the eighties, how nostalgic can you possibly be for an era where it was legal to own human beings like property? one of these plantation enthusiasts was looking for a house in montana, which wasn’t even a fucking state during the civil war. IF YOU WANT BIG WINDOWS OR SOMETHING JUST SAY YOU WANT BIG WINDOWS YOU DON’T HAVE TO FUCKING BRING ONE OF THE WORST EVILS THIS COUNTRY HAS EVER COMMITTED INTO YOUR FUCKING DESIGN AESTHETIC, BRITTANY, HOW DOES THIS POSSIBLY FEEL LIKE A THING IT IS OKAY TO SAY

if i get invited to another house hunters party, i may post more about it. otherwise, probably not. i don’t really like how that show makes me feel inside.

A Needed Night of Romance Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You come home frustrated with your editor, and discover a surprise guest.

Notes: Straight Fluff!!! // This is my first Real Person fic, so I would LOVE feedback from you guys. I may even consider making another part to this. I’m not using my usual tag list since this is a different pairing than I have ever used, so if you want to also be on my RP tags, let me know!! (I will tag @moreinfinite because she always wants tagged and the lovely @tsfrce)

Word Count: 2,199

In the silence of the plane, Chris anxiously scratched at his full beard. In only another two hours, he’d be strutting into Sweet Thing’s house to surprise her with his early arrival. Y/N had been so good about Chris’ time away for press and filming. Honestly, it gave her time to work too. She was in her final phase of writing her first novel. She was able to schedule her writing around his less malleable schedule. That way, she had more available time to spend with him when he was home. Chris was over the moon with how disciplined she had been to keep her schedule. He knew that she was now ahead of schedule, much to his excitement, so he planned out a long evening for the two of them. He actually found himself discussing it with the kind woman next to him. Her heavy lidded and wrinkled eyes seemed to shine more and more as Chris swooned over Y/N.

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Title: 髪がもし白くなろうとも
Summary: They say, I bet, They’ll never make it. - Shania Twain. Sasuke, Sakura and living the rest of their lives. [31 sentences]
Series and Pairing: Naruto, Sasusaku
Notes: a) The inspiration and title were taken from this song. It’s one of my favorite OTP songs hahaha. b) I haven’t made a fic for SS month last year. So I’ll post one during the SS canon anniversary? Besides this fic was in my drafts since last year. d) There’s one prompt that I’ve cheated with…Sorry? (thanks to @peonydee for the help on some prompts too)

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