this will all change tomorrow though

for @fauvistfly, who wanted something with pining and stiles being a singer

rated T, 2.3k also on AO3 here 

It’s four am and the diner is quiet. Derek finishes wiping down a table; life as usual, he’s alone, he’s at work, everything goes on as it does. He refills coffee for the two tired-looking truckers sitting at the counter and goes back to refilling the salt shakers.

The last time Cora was home, she’d asked if he and Laura ever considered selling the place. “Doesn’t do much business,” she said, trying to be gentle. Say it was okay to let go. But she’d only been a baby when the accident happened that took their parents; she didn’t have memories growing up here the way Derek and Laura did, playing hide-and-seek under the counters, watching their dad bake pies and their mom fill coffee, listening to travelers talk about their lives on the road.

Hale’s is fifty miles from the nearest town in either direction, a blink-and-miss-it diner still stuck in the ‘50s, right off the Pacific Coast Highway. The little town of Beacon Hills is an hour away, so almost all the patrons are travellers, people looking for respite from the road, on their way up to the redwoods or heading down to San Francisco and Los Angeles. There’s a little wall of autographs from famous people who’ve dined here; cowboys and starlets and authors and people Derek’s parents took a shine to. The diner is a historic landmark, not to mention it’s always been home to Derek.

So Laura manages the day shift and Derek does the night. It works out well; he doesn’t have to interact with people much. He and Laura were homeschooled until high school, and Derek had found Beacon Hills High School overwhelming with its crowds.

The radio starts a new song; it’s one of Derek’s favorites. He doesn’t remember the name of the artist, but it makes Derek feel alive. The song lyrics aren’t particularly sensual, but the man’s voice is— Derek shudders, feeling his blood run hot under his skin, and he imagines the warm touch of someone pulling him close, embracing him, kissing him—

“Can I take this coffee to go?”

“Oh. Sure,” Derek says, pouring the trucker’s coffee into a plastic cup.

They leave him a decent tip and are off, the bell jingling as they go.

Derek sighs, watching the moonlight dance across the ocean in the distance. He listens to the rustling of the trees, and occasionally a car will drive past the diner, lights blaring.

He turns off the radio and hums the song to himself as he sweeps up.

There’s longing here, of a love long lost, and Derek is lost to the song, to the memories it drags up.

Nothing but the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the white hot sun burning just beyond Derek’s closed eyes. He can feel the warm body next to him stir awake, and then fingers carding through his hair.

“Derek… hey. You awake?”

“Nope,” Derek says, and he can already picture it: Stiles leaning over him, his hair still wet, eyes bright with laughter.

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MBTI Encouragements


Never lose heart, your circumstances may be tough but you’re tougher!


Gonna reach that goal, write that book, graduate, be completely surrounded by genuine loved ones, and it will be glorious. Maybe not today, not tomorrow, but someday. Just you wait.


Give it your all, and you’ll change the world!


You can do great things! So long as you continue to develop your ability to discern what you can/cannot and should/should not do.


Up. The direction you are headed!


Never quit! Your goals are within reach! Don’t be afraid to give yourself some flex room though!


Gonna be alright. Just take a breather and persevere!


Let it be. Sometimes leaving things alone may be better than constantly trying to fix it.


You are capable. Your intelligence and ambition are far greater than you give yourself credit for!


Down to make this life your best life? Good. With your wit, charm, and innate intelligence nothing could stop you!


Never lose sight of your goals, but don’t overexert yourself in the process.


Gonna be blunt here. Success comes from within, thankfully you have the potential to be successful at whatever you set your mind to. And beyond!


Run forward with caution. Charging headfirst may be effective for the short term, but you can achieve so much more if you persevere with a steadfast mindset!


Around here you’re known for unconventional but practical methods of getting the job done. I can’t think of anyone better suited for the job to help your common man!


And don’t forget to take it easy. Hard work is commendable, but exhaustion will rob you of getting your goals accomplished.


Desert the notion that you’re needlessly soft! It takes courage to be kind, that being said there is a fine line between courage and stupidity.

You all are worthwhile and capable in your own individual ways!

what an amazing thing the teaser is though, so many details, so thoroughly thought through even through, from the sweater saying tomorrow to the direction being back to you and then changing to LT tour 2018, all 7 minutes long with just the beat that’s so catchy everyone’s going to want to listen to it especially with the last 15 seconds, he looks gorgeous, you cn’t look away, you don’t even want to turn the sound off even when it’s repeating because it’s so catchy it’s amazing 

BTS Reacts: their gf walking around in only their shirt

Hyung line / Maknae Line

Requested by infiresmannnnnnn 

A/N: im sorry if it’s not quite what you had in mind 😅😅 i just got a bit carried away since it’s my first request lol. i really wanted to show off my writing style more than anything. hope you dont mind the length (i honestly dont know how some of them got to be so long tbh *cough hoseok cough*)!!! Also I wrote so much that I hit post limit part way through Jimin’s one so I had to split it into Hyung and Maknae lines. Hope that’s okay!

(Gif’s not mine)

(WARNING: got some good ol’ PG13 makeout sessions up in here - not explicit sex obviously, but given the request you can gather its not going to be completely innocent, just wanna give you all a heads up so no one comes complaining to me lol)

Jin/Kim Seokjin:

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Jin had been in your kitchen, cooking both of you dinner before he had to go back to his dorms. He had a relatively early schedule tomorrow with his members, yet he insisted on making you proper food.

“You know how much I like cooking, though, Jagiya.” He insisted. “Go have a shower. I’ll be done by the time you’re out.” He said, chuckling at you as you huffed out a “fine”.

Twenty minutes later, you were done. Upon realising you had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with you to the bathroom, you sighed, pulling on your recently discarded shirt, that barely covered your ass. Scuttling around your apartment, looking for the sweatpants you ‘swear were right there, on the couch’, Jin called you for dinner.

You walked into the kitchen-dining area with a confused frown on your face.

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The Past On Your Doorstep - AU

Dean x Reader

Summary: After more than 4 years Dean knocks on your door, surprising the hell out of you. Then it’s his turn to be surprised when he sees a little girl standing next to you.

A/N: Moving this fic from my side blog @canyonic to my main one.

Word Count: 1900+

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mirajanekpopgirl28  asked:

"I don't want to be alone right now." Ladrien


She really hoped to escape that stuffy ballroom full of people she didn’t know undetected but here he was, catching her practically at the door.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah,” she nervously chuckled, hoping he wouldn’t realize that she wasn’t that thrilled about coming here in the first place but as the hero of Paris she couldn’t refuse the public invitation from Gabriel Agreste himself. “You see- I have this other- another thing- thing to do-”

“Is there any way you can stay?” Adrien asked nevertheless. He rarely was so bold. That caught her off guard. “I don’t want to be alone right now and we both know that all those people in there are here for my father and his celebrity rather than me and my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“It does look like everyone here is either famous or old,” Ladybug sighed. “I wonder, though, why Chat Noir hasn’t shown up. He was invited as well, wasn’t he?” She really need to kill him one of those days for bailing on her without a warning when he knew she hesitated to accept. “I swear, that cat is so irresponsible sometimes!”

“I’m sure he has a good reason to skip such a grand affair,” Adrien chuckled. “Listen, since it’s so boring in there, maybe we should go out to the balcony? I could use some fresh air right about now.”

For a moment, the girl hesitated. On the one hand, Ladybug really wanted to leave so she could stay on track with her determination to get over him, a decision Marinette made about six months ago and was resolute to fulfill. After all, as a twenty-four-year-old who had never been in a romantic relationship (due to her hopeless pining for Adrien that entire time), she had finally decided that enough was enough. She started acting. She took down all the posters, she threw out all the magazines and minimized their meetings. She even moved across the city under the pretense of a new job just so she would see him less, sacrificing her dream of working at Gabriel in the process. She couldn’t say she was successful yet and time alone with Adrien would definitely not help. For all intents and purposes, she should probably refuse…

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Percy and Annabeth were a perfect example of why. You should have to make someone’s heart whole.

I guess this is the colored version of this sketch, I changed a few things though. Yet i still have trouble with it

Thank you @percyyoulittleshit who came armed with Percabeth quotes to help me with this one.

Favourite color: Black II pt. 1

Yoongi x reader

genre: Mafia!Yoongi, angst, violence

contents of violence, heavy words and so on

Thanks to the anon who requested a Mafia/Underground!Yoongi story, I hope you enjoy even though I changed the plot

word count: 11.4k

Does Min Yoongi stand for death or safety?

Right now it definitely was the first word to describe the rather cruel man and his actions who threatened you with your mother’s life if you wouldn’t obey his orders as he wanted you to. His plans for your further cooperation sounding strange. At first.

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It’s Been a While (Richie Tozier x Reader)


Pairing: Richie x reader

Request: Nope

Summary: IT is back and as Y/N heads back to Derry, she meets back up with Richie, the boy who she’d been in love with ever since that summer.

Warnings: None, but this is my first x reader so it might suck

A/N: I think I might make this into like a 2 parter or a series, so hmu if you want some more story

Your chest felt like it was on fire. Mike had called you while you were watching a typical slasher film. “Jesus fucking Christ!,” you exclaimed as the shrill ring of the telephone rang throughout your apartment. You set down your popcorn and paused the movie, getting up to answer the phone and curse the caller who almost gave you a heart attack.

“You scared the shi-”

“Y/N.” a familiar voice spoke over the line. Your face took a confused expression as you twirled the phone’s chord in your fingers.

“Yes? Who is this,” you questioned, getting slightly unnerved by the seriousness in the voice’s tone.

“It’s me. Mike. Mike Hanlon? Listen, we need to talk. About the promise we made.”

You nearly dropped the phone and your face drained of any color. The promise. You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing the conversation that was to come. Bracing yourself as that summer’s events came back to you. The Neibolt house, the bowers gang, your group of friends, Bill, Beverly, Eddie, Stan, Mike, Ben…… Richie.

You and Richie had been dating since April before that summer started. Not a second of it was dull with his cheesy and terrible pick up lines, all the way down to the way he would yell at any other loser for being an ass whipe and staring at his girl. The situation with it had just made your relationship stronger, and by the time the promise was made, Richie pulled you aside from the group and told you, “Y/N, if we ever have to come back to this bum fuck town to fight that fucking clown, I promise to you that I will make sure nothing ever fucking hurts you, do you hear me hot stuff?? Nothing. And after, I swear on my life I will marry you.” To that you giggled and of course agreed, you were in love with the glasses wearing boy. But then in the next month, your mom broke the news that you’d be moving out to Missouri in the next month for her business promotion. The day you left, you said goodbye to all your losers and your Richie, telling him you’d keep that promise even now.

Now you weren’t so sure about it. “W-what about it Mike? I’ve missed you. Is everything okay?” The words just sort of fell out of your mouth all together with a nervous laugh. You went to touch the phone chord again. You were trembling.

“Y/N… you know why I called you. The clown… I-it… it’s back.”

“Oh god… when should I be there? Who all is there now?”

“Probably in the next day or so. Bill, Ben, Eddie, and Richie,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, trying to lighten the mood by telling you that Richie was in Derry. You laughed.

“Shut up Mike,” you said softly in a joking tone, “it is still nice to hear your voice though. I haven’t seen or heard from any of you guys since I moved.”

“I’ve missed you too. Everyone else has I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow it is. Bye Mikey,” you spoke barely above a whisper and shakily hung up the phone.

The plane ride to the one and only Derry, Maine was stressful to say the least. Had everyone forgotten about you? Did they hate you for having to leave them? What if they all hadn’t changed and were uninterested with you because you’d changed so much? You were about ready to pull your hair out from anxiety.

Puberty had done you well. Your h/c hair had gotten a bit longer, your facial features filling out beautifully, you were slightly taller, but still fairly tiny for a woman your age. You were less shy and quiet, more confident and outgoing. You still had the same interests, your e/c eyes still being filled with a sparkle when you talked about them. Different, yet all together the same.

The plane had landed, and your ankle boots clicked against the ground of the place you used to call home. The small town was still the same as how you’d left it, except maybe with a couple more cars and a couple of different buildings. You passed your old house, Richie’s, Bill’s, even Stan’s on the way to the restaurant you guys had agreed to meet at. Your eyes began to gloss over with tears at the sight of what you’d missed this whole time.

You walked up the steps to the restaurant, your heart nearly beating out of your chest and your breath going heavy with anxiety. This was it. You were going to see everyone again. You were going to see Richie again. You pushed open the door, walking through the aisles as people talked and ate and laughed looking for Mike Hanlon and the rest of your losers.

Your eyes searched the dining room, making eye contact with warm brown eyes. “Hey Y/N! Over here,” Mike yelled. You froze in place as each person at the table turned their head to look at you. You could see everybody’s breath hitch. You were as unrecognizable to them as they were to you.

You slowly walked over, standing in front of the table quietly and in a slight shock as Beverly stood up and ran over to give you a hug. “Oh Y/N… I’ve missed you so much. We’ve missed you so much.” She said softly as she buried her face in your shoulder. Your lips curled up into a sweet smile, laughing and hugging her tightly back. “I’ve missed you so much too Bevvy.”

She stepped back and you looked around the table, smiling and waving to each of your old friends. And then your eyes made their way to soft brown spectacled ones.

Richie’s face flushed with color and his breath hitched in his throat. It was you. It was his Y/N, the girl he promised to marry in his later years if they ever met again. It was you.

band-aid solutions

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: smut, angst, humor

warning: slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!jimin, oral

word count: 15k

summary: It’s said that time heals all wounds, but that isn’t exactly true and sometimes band-aids are all you have. You catch your boyfriend cheating on you and Jimin is more than willing to help you forget him.

✩ a/n: inspired by the drama suspicious partner, check it out if you haven’t already!

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Pairing: Sam X Reader

Word count: 1200-ish

Warning: FLUFF (like just too much of it)

Summary: A smitten reader finds herself with drunk Sam. Alone.

A/N: I suck y’all. I know, lately I’ve been only writing Sam, but y’all are just feeding my Sam crises. I’m not naming you, but you know who you are. This fic is a result of just that. @kas-not-cas thought it might be a good idea to distract poor Ana with this GIF. So, my wifey is the reason you’re getting this. Blame her, not me!

Also, there was an anon request a while back, asking for a tall reader paired opposite Sam. Here it is Nonnie ;)

Feedback is really appreciated!

“Dean,” you called, looking over at Sam. Something was obviously out of place with him. “DEAN?” You all but yelled, when the older Winchester didn’t reply. Why, oh why did you decide to step into the motel room without Dean? 

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True Family

Writer - @harry-hook-me (myself)

Request - @woahtatyana

Disclaimer - I do not own any of the Descendants characters or scenes from the movies, all credits goes to the creators and producers of Disney’s descendants.

Summary - Y/n, Harry, Uma and Gil hate it at Auradon and decide to wreak havoc so they can go back to the Isle, in the process Y/n finds out some big news which stresses her out but helps her realize she truly is evil.

Warnings - swearing, bad behaviour (if that it even a warning)

Originally posted by ouatandtlosfanboy

It’s been five weeks since me, Harry, Uma and Gil left the Isle and arrived at Auradon, and every second I’ve hated. This place is just totally the opposite of us. Pastel, pretty and full of perky princesses and dumb princes. Were pirates for god sake, we belong on the sae, not at some school for the goodies.

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Words: 1101

Description: Archie begs the reader to join his and Jugheads road trip, and then ditches last minute.

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

A/N: A part 2 will be coming, I just didn’t want part 1 to be exceedingly long. This might be more than a 2 part fic as well! Hope you enjoy! 

You were friends with Archie first. It was the summer right before third grade, and you had moved into the house right next door to the red head. You had seen him playing outside with another boy whilst you were unpacking, hearing their grunts and yells from your open window. They were covered head to toe in mud, a product from the heavy rainstorms the night prior.

“Why don’t you ask them to go play, (Y/N)?” your mom says, catching you staring outside “It would give you a chance to make some friends before the school year starts.”

You nod, gathering up the courage to make your little legs carry you outside and to the backyard. You nervously walked up to the boys, and cleared your throat.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N)” you said, not knowing how else to start “I just moved in next door.”

The red head nodded, sticking out his muddy hand “I’m Archie” he said. You glanced at his hand, not wanting to shake it, but not wanting to be rude. “Oh, sorry!” he say’s “You don’t have to shake it.”

The other, raven haired boy rolled his eyes “Surely you can’t be afraid of a little mud?” he says, somewhat rudely. Archie punched his arm.

“Jug, knock it off.” He says. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Sorry, what was your name?” you ask the boy. He turns his attention back to you.

“My name is Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third. Or you can just call me Jughead” he said, crossing his arms and smirking at the sophisticated sounding name. You just giggled.

“Jughead?” you asked in between breaths “I’ve never heard that one before.”

His face gets red from behind the layer of mud, and you frown, realizing you struck a nerve. Before you even have a chance to apologize, Jughead grabs a handful of mud and chucks it at your chest. It splatters everywhere, getting on your new baby pink t-shirt. That would definitely leave a stain.

Your eyes fill with tears, and you run back into your house, hearing Archie yelling at Jughead as you were leaving.

It was now the summer before your junior year of high school, and your friendship with Archie was going strong. That being said, ever since the mud incident with Jughead, you two have been at each other’s throats every chance you get.

“I know you want me to go, Archie, but I’m not going if Jughead is.” You say, referring to the road trip that Archie had been begging you to join for weeks.

“But why (Y/N)?” he asks, resting his head on the table at Pop’s Diner. You sigh.

“I’m not going if Jughead is going. You should know this by now. We don’t get along.” You said, taking a sip of your milkshake. He sighs, pulling out the puppy dog eyes he knew you just couldn’t resist.

“Arch, no.” you said, looking away. Looking at anything, really, besides those damn puppy dog eyes. He just kept looking at you though, and you just frowned. “Fine. But I’m not happy about it”

“Awesome! So, you come over to my house tomorrow morning and then Jughead will meet us there, and then we’ll all just go from there.” Archie says, and you nod, sliding out of the booth.

“I’m just going to go before I change my mind.” You explain, and leave the red headed boy alone, smirking.

You sat outside on Archie’s front porch, frowning. He was supposed to meet you and Jughead outside 30 minutes ago, but still is not answering his phone or the door. You stood up, walking around to the garage, to see his car wasn’t even there. You groaned in frustration, getting ready to go back to your house and curl up in bed. The fact that Archie blatantly ditched both of you made your blood boil.4

“This is ridiculous” Jughead said, standing up from the porch. You just stomped past him, your suitcase following close behind you. “Wait, where are you going?” he asked.

“Home.” You snapped “I only agreed to this because Archie wanted us both there. He ditched us, Jughead. And I’m going home to lay down and forget I ever agreed to this.”

“Woah woah wait,” Jughead followed you, grabbing your arm and stopping you. “You do realize he already paid for his share, right?” he asked, and you sighed.

“So? That just makes him an idiot.” You say, starting to turn around.

“No. Well, yes that does make him an idiot. But you know what else that makes him? A sucker. Let’s just ditch and go together!” He exclaimed and you laughed.

“Like hell I’d ever go on vacation with you. We can’t even stand to be in the same 20-mile radius of each other, let alone being in a car for a few days with each other,” you said harshly, and something flashed in Jugheads eyes. Sadness, maybe? Hurt? Before you could even feel sorry for him, you turned back around, ready to just go home.

“Look, I’m just as pissed with Archie as you are, but this isn’t my fault, don’t take it out on me.” He said, and you turned around, ready to rip him a new one. But before you could think of doing that, you realized that he was right, in some odd sense. Jughead really didn’t do anything wrong, and you shouldn’t be upset with him.

“Sorry,” you sighed “I just didn’t get much sleep, and I wasn’t looking forward to this trip that much anyways. So to put in the time and effort just made me feel shitty.”

“Why weren’t you looking forward to it?” he asked, and you shrugged.

“We don’t get along Jughead. You and I both know that. It would’ve been exhausting arguing with you. I don’t understand why Archie had to invite both of us. But I guess it’s a whole moot point now because he’s ditched us.” You said, and sat down on his porch.

“I mean, we can still go,” he said, and you open your mouth to say something but he continues “We can at least pretend we enjoy each other’s company. I don’t know about you, but it’d be a slap in the face to Arch if we went and used his prepaid reservations.”

You sit, thinking quietly. On one hand, Jughead is right. Archie pulled a dick move and you wanted to get back at him. But on the other hand, it meant spending five continuous days with Jughead. Could you do it?

“Let’s go.” You say, sighing “Before I change my mind”.

Benefits and Complications

Quick Info - Reader seizes an opportunity she never thought she’d have
Word Count - 1794
Warning - Smut, language, I realize this is probably not what would happen on the show but this isn’t the show, it’s my story. It could be continued. Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.

Benefits and Complications

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Did some shoulders today and physically feeling amazing 😌

Mentally- it’s been a tough ol’ week for me 👎🏼 Just been down for no reason, really. But my family Thanksgiving dinner is on Monday and I’m really excited to go home and see everyone.
For those who don’t know (not even sure I’ve mentioned it before on this blog?) I have 7 other siblings. 5 sisters and 2 brothers. I love them and they are my entire world ❤️
Because I come from such a big family, I’m used to being around people all the time. Living in the city (2.5 hours away from home)- I love living with my boyfriend (wouldn’t change it for anything) but I do get lonely. I don’t have very many friends here and I work full time managing a bar at nights, while my boyfriend works full time during the days. We only see each other 2-3 times a week. I get lost in my head a lot… especially this week…

I know tomorrow will be better though ☺️ Positivity is key.

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 3426

Request: Anon: Sick of losing soulmates song fic? Sherlock x reader

A/N: First song fic……. Thanks to everyone who helped out and made this story 10x better with all your suggestions, feedback, and proofreading. Requests are open but may take some (a lot) of time.


With a stack of books pressed against your chest, you walked through the empty hallway. The sound of your shoes melodically tapping the floor echoed as you approached your locker. In one swift movement you flung open the door and shoved your books inside. A sudden banging sound flooded your ears and you promptly stopped what you were doing. You looked around the hall and found that you were still alone. You heard the sound once more and assumed it was coming from the storage room next to your locker.

You resolved to investigate the sound, praying you weren’t about to walk in on two hormonal teens going at it. Your fingers grasped the door handle, slowly opening it and flipping on the lights. To your surprise you found that Sherlock Holmes had been sitting all alone in the dark.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked curiously. His arms were resting on his bent knees and his head hung low between them. You had seen him around before, and of course knew who he was, but you’ve never actually spoken to him.

“Some of your classmates thought it would be funny to lock me in here.” He glanced up at you through a mop of dark curls. The way he said ‘your classmates’ made you feel like he was comparing you to his bullies, and you certainly couldn’t have him thinking you were anything like them.

“Why?” You asked, his position not changing.

“Why does anyone do anything?” He retorted sarcastically, you knew exactly why the majority of your classmates hated him and therefore bullied him.

“Ok, well, it’s nearly three o’clock. Do you want to go get a coffee or something?” You asked after glancing at your watch.

“With you?” He asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes…” You answered, confused by his confusion. Had no one ever extended kindness like this to him before?

“Why?” He asked, wondering if you had an ulterior motive. Clearly he wasn’t acclimated to compassion from his classmates.

“Why does anyone do anything?” You smirked, gaining a smile from him.

“Come on, I know the perfect place.” You reached out a hand to help him up and he hesitantly took it.

At a shop down the street you placed a hot cup in front of him. He thanked you but kept his quiet demeanor.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You broke the silence.

“I know who you are, we’ve gone to school together for the last two years.” He answered.

“Funny, I don’t think we’ve ever exchanged a single word.” You observed.

“That’s because the people you hang out with are not fond of me.” He told you.

“I hang out with everyone, I’m told I’m likeable.” You smiled.

“Yes, annoyingly so.” He muttered.

“You’re strange, you know that?” You smiled, you panicked when you noticed the sad, almost disappointed look on Sherlock’s face. “No, no, no, strange is good Sherlock. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

He looked up to you and smiled, a genuine smile, one you’d never seen from him before.

“I’m not like the others Sherlock. I’m not here to poke fun at you or make you feel bad about being different. You can talk to me.” You spoke, trying to make him feel comfortable around you.

“Sometimes I just wish I was normal.” Sherlock spoke, taking a chance and finally opening up to you.

“I promise you, the world will be an infinitely better place precisely because you are not.” You smiled, taking his hand, making sure he knew you were serious.

“How do you know that?” He asked, his hand tensed at your sudden contact.

“I just do.” You stared into his eyes. Had they always been that blue?

That was where it started. In a dark closet of a dusty old high school, a beautiful friendship had formed. A friendship that Sherlock wished could be something more, though he knew it never could. He continued to hide the truth of his feelings, knowing you could never love someone like him.

“Sorry I’m late.” You spoke, walking into Sherlock’s dorm. You still liked to check up on him after all these years.

“How was your date?” Sherlock deduced raising an eyebrow, you were going to ask how he knew but you knew it would be something painfully simple once he laid it out for you.

“Good, fine.” You said, not realizing you were smiling.

“I’d say it went more than fine.” He spoke in his monotone voice, noting your change in mood.

“I don’t want to jinx anything, these sort of things are delicate.” You said.

“So I’m told.” He rolled his eyes, he liked to pretend he knew nothing about human interactions and sentiment was foreign to him. Of course it was foreign to him, in all instances except the ones that involved you.

“Oh, this is for you.” Sherlock grabbed an envelope from his desk and handed it to you. He maintained his uninterested demeanor, even though he secretly was hoping and waiting for your approval.

“For me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well it is your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?” He smiled softly.

You took the envelope from his hand, your fingers brushing his slightly. You felt a jolt of electricity, had that always happened? Did he feel that too? You looked up to him and nothing on his face gave away that he had felt anything. Of course he hadn’t, he was your best friend, he wasn’t capable of being more. Even ‘friend’ was a stretch, him being a high functioning sociopath and all. You pulled yourself from your thoughts and cracked open the envelope to reveal two tickets to your favorite opera.

“Sherlock! You didn’t!” You yelled, donning a smile from ear to ear.

“I did.” He nodded seriously, secretly loving your reaction.

“I didn’t even know it was showing!” You could hardly contain your excitement.

“One night only in London. We can train over tomorrow if you’d like.” He said.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god, thank you! Thank you Sherlock! What would I do without you?” You jumped into his arms, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

He stayed stiff like a statue before taking a deep breath and wrapping his arms around you. Hide the truth.

“Now, movie night?” He asked, clearing his throat and straightening his shirt.

“Movie night.” You nodded, plopping down next to him on the sofa.

By the end of the movie you had unknowingly fallen asleep on his shoulder. He glanced down to your sleeping form, a frown upon his face. He could never be what you needed, you deserved more than him. Why you had stuck around with him this long he would never know.

He thought you deserved someone like Hugh, the man you had a date with tonight. He noticed how your eyes dilated when he mentioned the date, how your mood had changed and you seemed to be walking on air. He could never make you feel that way, or so he thought.

It was two weeks before graduation that your long time boyfriend, Hugh, approached Sherlock after class. They’d only spoken a few times, but Sherlock could tell how serious it was between the two of you.

Despite his better judgement, Sherlock liked Hugh. He had never hurt you and knew he never would. He came from a good, kind family, had no skeletons in his closet, and treated you like a queen. Hugh was everything Sherlock wished he could be.

“Hey Sherlock, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Y/N?” Hugh asked him and Sherlock nodded his head.

“What’s her favorite flower?” He asked.

“Tulips.” Sherlock answered.

“Ok, and what about her favorite song. And her favorite chocolate or does she like chocolate? Is she fond of surprises or of a more intimate gathering?” Hugh began to ramble.

“Why?” Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrow.

“You can’t tell her, but at the graduation party in a few weeks I’m going to propose and I want it to be perfect.” Sherlock gulped but kept a straight face, nodding.

Sherlock wasn’t ready to lose you. When the two of you began dating, he stood by and did nothing. Dating wasn’t permanent, he thought he’d have another chance. He thought when the time came, he would confess his sentiments toward you and that would be it. You would have fallen into his arms and reciprocated all the feelings he’d been holding inside for years.

How did he even get here? He never thought he would be someone capable of feelings like this at all. Then you came along and pulled him out of his misery and became a shining beacon of hope. You had noticed him, and treated him like a human being, not a freak or a machine. You were the only thing that’s keeping him going, keeping him human. And if you’re happy, even if it’s not with him, then he’s happy for you. He’ll continue to hide his feelings, after all, he’s gotten pretty good at it over the last six years. Hide the truth.

The night of the graduation party had finally come. Everything was perfect, and of course you’d said yes. You stood on the balcony, looking out into the dark, your ring sparkling on your finger.

Sherlock had noticed your absence and set out to find you. Once he approached the balcony you turned and smiled at him, now standing at your side.

“Thank you.” You told him.

“For what?” He feigned ignorance.

“You know what. Hugh is great, but only you could have known all those things.” You smiled at him, he had truly made the night perfect.

“He asked for my help, he wanted it to be perfect for you.” Sherlock gave in.

“Well it was, thank you.” You were glowing, he noticed how the moonlight reflected off your eyes.

“I hope you’ll be happy with him.” Sherlock said honestly. You looked up to him and smiled, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. You knew he wasn’t a fan of physical contact, but right now you just needed to be near him. If he was here, you knew everything was going to be okay, he calmed all your anxious fears for the future. You were nervous about marrying Hugh, but you knew if Sherlock was happy for you that you were doing the right thing. You wandered what was going through his mind at this exact moment.

A comfortable silence surrounded the two of you, a true calm as the world turned hectically around you. Hide the truth.

The beautiful, intimate ceremony had come and gone. You were truly happy to be surrounded by your fiance, well, now husband, your families, and your best friend: Sherlock Holmes.

Three years went by in a flash. You were both happy, before the war broke out.

“I can’t sit here and do nothing while men like me fight for this country.” He argued one night, this was one of the few times he raised his voice at you.

“You want to leave everything we’ve built here behind so you can go fight in a war?” You yelled back, not understanding.

“I want to go fight in a war to protect everything we’ve built here Y/N!” How could you argue with that? He wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

He was deployed three months later, and you felt like a piece of you was missing.

“Come back safe.” You begged, placing one final kiss on his lips before he left.

“I promise.” He hugged you again before turning to Sherlock and extending his hand. “Take care of her, mate.”

“I will.”  I always have. Sherlock said, shaking Hugh’s hand.

Two years later a knock at your door interrupted your morning tea. Every time you heard it you prayed it would be him, surprising you and finally coming home.

He would be standing there, a huge goofy smile on his face, and you would leap into his arms. It would be just like those videos that get shared around Youtube and make everyone tear up. His hair would be cut and his uniform would be sharp. He would drop his bags and say something cheesy like “Honey I’m home.”

You pulled the door open with an optimistic smile. You saw two men in uniform standing in front of you with solemn faces. Your mouth dropped open and you left your heart painfully drop.

“Mrs. L/N.” The first man began to speak. Your hand clapped over your mouth.

“No, no, no, no…” You began to cry, your hands shaking, your legs giving away under you.

“The Minister of Defense regrets to inform you that your husband was killed in action three days ago due to an IED. There is an ongoing investigation. Once the investigation is complete, you will have full access to the report.” His voice sounded like it was a mile away. Your ears were ringing and your vision began to blur from your tear.

“Ma’am we advise that you’re not alone at a time like this. Is there someone we can call for you?” He asked.

“Sher-” You attempted but your voice broke, “I’ll call him.”

The next couple minutes were a blur. You’d closed the door and somehow located your phone and dialed Sherlock. Your breathing had stabilized, your heart still beating a thousand times a minute. You were in shock.

“You better not be calling me to cancel our weekly dinner tonight.” You could feel Sherlock smirking through the phone.

“Sher-” You choked out, breaking into a sob.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” You could hear the panic in his voice and the sound of something crashing on his end.

“I need you.” You sobbed.

“I’m on my way.” He said quickly.

Within five minutes your front door flew open. Sherlock stood in your doorway, glancing to the letter and folded flag on the table.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He said genuinely. It killed him to see you like this, in so much pain.

He ran to you and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He held you for what seemed like hours. Physical contact always made him uncomfortable, but in a time of need like this, he could never deny you. You were the exception, you were always the exception. He would do anything for you, and if that meant his shirt becoming stained with your tears, or staying up with you through the night, he would do it. He made his way down onto the couch, realizing after a few hours that you must have cried yourself to sleep on him.

Your eyes were red and puffy and your skin blotchy, but to him he’d never seen something so beautiful, so human. He remembered back to the days of university when you would fall asleep on him during your movie nights. He should have told you then. He should have told you he loved you and spared you all this. Spared you from ever falling for anyone else, but he didn’t, and it would haunt him until the day he died.

After your husband died you buried yourself into your work. You began neglecting your friends and your family. You barely saw Sherlock anymore, due to no fault of his own.

You spent an unhealthy number of hours at your office, just because you couldn’t face coming home to an empty flat. You’d lay awake at night, thinking you’d heard something in the kitchen. Thinking it was your husband up getting a glass of water in the middle of the night like he used to. You’d wake up each morning and cherish those few seconds between consciousness where you’re blissfully ignorant. Before you wake up to an empty bed and are reminded that he’s not coming back. For those precious few moments of ignorance, you pay the unimaginable price of remembrance.

Your world had been turned upside down and you were scared. You were scared to love again because you didn’t want things to end the same way they had with Hugh.

Your phone rang as you sat at your desk with your head in your hands. You didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.

“Y/N? It’s John, I didn’t want to disturb you unless it was an emergency and I think we’ve gotten to that point.” The familiar voice said.

“John?” You asked, not putting the voice to the name.

“Sherlock’s flatmate.” He reminded you.

“Oh, right, sorry. What sort of emergency?” You asked, confused.

“It’s Sherlock, he’s been back on the sauce and well, he needs you. He won’t listen to me and I won’t watch him overdose so can you please come talk some sense into him?” John pleaded.

“I’m on my way.” You said, hanging up. Sherlock was always there for you, and now it was your turn to be there for him.

You pushed open the door of 221B to see Sherlock curled up on the couch, shivering.

“Sherlock!” You rushed to his side, holding him, trying to stop his shaking. “What have you done to yourself?”

“It’s for a case.” He lied.

“This isn’t for a case, Sherlock. You need to stop this, you’re going to kill yourself.” You scolded him.

“Why do you care?” He asked, and you were taken aback. Had you really neglected him that badly?

“How dare you think I don’t care about you, Sherlock. I’ve cared about you since the day I dragged your ass out of that janitor’s closet. I’ve cared about you so much that it hurt knowing you could never reciprocate those feelings. Sherlock I don’t care if this is for a case, I don’t care if this is the most important case of your life. You will stop this right now. I’m sick of losing soulmates. I don’t want to be alone again and I won’t sit here and watch you kill yourself. I won’t lose you too. I love you, so much that it hurts.” You felt a tear slip from your eye as you buried your head into his chest. You’d gone from yelling to crying, and your head was throbbing.

“You’ve got to be pretty fucked up to love me.” He observed. “And I do know how it feels. Do you know how hard it was to watch you fall in love with Hugh, because I knew I could never make you happy even though it was the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Do you know how it killed me when he passed and I had to watch you go through that, knowing if I had only spoken up and been honest with you I could have shielded you from all that pain.”

“Well you’re as fucked up as me then.” You let out a sigh, he would be safe now, because you would make sure of it.

He loved you, and you loved him, no one was hiding the truth this time.

You never thought that by 30 you would have been married not only once, but twice.

You stood at the end of the aisle once again, your hands in his. You thought you were lucky to have one great love in your life, but two was undeserving. You were more than lucky, you were blessed.

“God knows where I would be if you hadn’t found me sitting all alone in the dark. I don’t know what I would be without you, and I never want to find out. You make me the best version of myself, and I vow to always be there for you, as you’ve always been there for me. I love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will.” Sherlock said, slipping the ring on your finger.

You cried into the kiss. This time was different, both filled with love, but different kinds of love. You loved Hugh with a familiar kind of love. Your personalities complemented each other and it felt natural, almost familial. A big brother sort of love, but still true. Sherlock was different, and shouldn’t he be? You love Sherlock because of your differences, it’s an enduring love that has aged and matured. It is beyond the physical, it has transcended the casual, and is a unique harmony that has formed over time.

Like the two of you, your love wasn’t normal. He had never met a woman who understood his odd heart, but she recognized each peculiar beat, for her’s was also unique.

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i’m not the only one (two) - bucky barnes

Originally posted by buckingoffthebed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky knows exactly what he’s done to you, and realizes you deserve a whole heart again. Part Two to “I’m Not The Only One”

Requested: yes (anon)

Warnings: language

Words: 1615

Here’s part two to “I’m Not The Only One”! This is low key sad but I hope you all like:)




You’ve been so unavailable, now sadly I know why. Your heart is unobtainable, even though Lord knows you kept mine. You say I’m crazy, ‘cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done. But when you call me baby, I know I’m not the only one.  

Your eyes stared vacantly at the beige colored wall in front of you, arms folded over one another in front of your chest, knees crossed and lips formed in a thin line. Every feeling you once had, every emotion displayed across your heartbroken features, was all void. Your face showed complete and utter emptiness at the situation occurring around you. Your heart no longer swelled at the thought of him anymore, your stomach no longer filling with butterflies as his blue, piercing eyes gazed into yours. The love you once felt was masked over in complete animosity at your once husband. His blue eyes that stared into yours were now filled with guilt and sorrow at what he had done to you.

The void feeling was taking over immensely second by second as you sat in full silence, while Bucky was weaving in and out of rooms, collecting his belongings as tears escaped his eyes.

“Get out!” you screamed, the tears running in streams down your flushed face. Your heart was tearing each second, no longer wanting to look at the betrayal sprawled across his features.

Bucky reached for you daringly, his hand slightly coming in contact with your arm. You feel the zap hit up your arm at his soft touch, your brain cursing you for feeling that way towards the betrayal, “Y/N..”

“No, Buck! You had your chance and you fucking ruined it!” you cut him off, screaming at the top of your lungs. Your body moved, shoving him weakly. You felt the feelings start to rush out of you an throughout your veins as the conclusion was coming to and. Your mind took over with nasty, aching thoughts of Bucky and some other mistress, him kissing her and holding her the way he used to hold you.

Her lips would suck on his neck and she would get o hear his throaty moan, the energy of his love radiating off of him onto her as they made love to one another. This ignited your fists to bang against his strong chest, tears falling all around you as he repeatedly hit him with all the hurtful memories he’s caused upon you for the past couple of months.

His eyes shut tight, the pain flooding his demeanor, allowing you to take out all of the pain you had allow build up inside of you for such a long time, out on him. As you hit against him numerous times, the pain he was supposed to be enduring was just a facade of memory. His body was built in complete nothingness, he couldn’t feel his own pain anymore, he could only feel yours.

I have loved you for many years, maybe I am just not enough. You’ve made me realize my deepest fear, by lying and tearing us up.  

As your mind carried itself back to your quiet state, you heard Bucky make his way back into the room from behind you. You didn’t know whether to turn around and approach him about what would dare to happen next, or to painfully sit in more continuous silence and watch him walk out the front door, leaving you forever.

“I, uh, I think that’s everything,” you heard Bucky speak behind you, the ache and discomfort laced through his voice ringing in your ears. Your brain rallied the types of options you had to act on for several painful minutes before coming to a conclusion.

You heaved a sigh from between your tight lips before turning around slowly, arms still crossed across your chest, and looked to see Bucky. His arms were holding numerous bags and suitcase on the floor . A black hat adorned his head of soft brown hair, while the jacket with the stench of perfume lied across his suitcase as a drape. You dared to look him in the eyes for a split second, your Y/E/C eyes, cold and unfamiliar gazed into his now dark, saddened blue orbs for a meaningful last time. You felt your blood run cold as realization hit you like a truck.

This was it. Your husband, the once love of your life, was leaving you. Not out of his doing, but because you told him. You couldn’t bare the thought without him, but you had to. He played with your emotions for months on end, sending your once unbreakable vows with the wind. Once broken, they were gone forever.

You didn’t even get up, you just stared at him for what felt like several minutes. The energy between the two of you now dead, nothing flowing excitedly through your bodies anymore. The love, adoration, emotion, was all gone, and never to return.

You ran your stare all around his body and situation before coughing the lump out of your throat and muttering scratchily, “Good,” your voice sounding sour and intense towards him. You felt Bucky tense at your state and you shifted slightly in your position, though your manner not changing for a split second.

Bucky dragged his belongings to the door, stopping to look at your once more, muttering, “I’ll, uh, I’ll call our lawyer tomorrow, get everything sorted out,” he answered, his voice sounding shaky and defeated as the talk of divorce abruptly flew its way into the conversation. You instantly felt your insides shake and your eyes shut tightly as the intention of divorce.

The word sounded so vague and foreign to your mind, never once thinking that it would cross into your path ever in your life. Your eyes still shut, you shook your head slightly, the feeling of him leaving you for forever crawling its way back up and into your heart. The familiar tears slipped through your shut eyelids and dropped themselves on to your flustered, and already damp cheek.

Bucky saw your immediate change of demeanor, his mind debating whether to walk out now and leave you be, or to attempt to soften the situation he’s already caused. He set down his belongings next to his suitcase on the floor, wondering what his next move would be. He carefully watched your painful figure silently sob at his previous statement. He walked behind you sitting on the couch, leaning down, his hands pressed against the back of the couch. His veins pumped with depression and guilt, his features softening as he stared down at your weakened state, regretting every painful, heartbreaking thing he’s ever done to you. He leaned down, hands pushing down on the couch, whispering softly next to your upset figure.

“Shh, please don’t cry. This is what you need. I don’t deserve you anymore, beautiful,” he whispered, reaching over and tucking your hair behind you ear softly.

You opened your eyes at the sound and feelings of his scratchy voice next to your ear. You quickly looked over and stared into his eyes, his pink lips quivering at the sight of your bloodshot orbs gazing into his for what he knows will be the last time. The next thing he did took you by surprise, your breath catching in the back of your throat.

He leaned down above you, placing his chapped and shaky lips against your flushed face, kissing your forehead gently. All the pain and hatred for what he’d done was still evident, the feeling of his now unfamiliar lips against yours causing your mind to rewind back to the times he was yours, and never anyone else’s. After a few seconds of pure pain, he pulled back slowly, the spark of what you once had, was gone.

Bucky’s lips turned up ever so slightly at you before nodding his head in a knowing demeanor at you, eyes down-casting in silence. You watched as he picked his things back up, draping the jacket over his shoulder before turning away from your painful figure and facing towards the one thing that separated you and him from now on. Your eyes scaled his actions, opening the front door, careful not the drop any of the belongings he was holding in his hands.

The dead energy picked up a little as his saddened blue eyes locked with yours, turning around to face you once more. He gazed at your weary state, his mind telling him to leave you for good, to set you free of the heartless emotions he put you through for months, and allow you to live your life without him, and without the heartbreak.

“I hope you find someone who loves you endlessly, and never hurts you the way I did, Y/N,” he said to you, nodding at your figure slightly before giving you one last arduous glance. Your heart slowly pieced itself back together as you followed Bucky’s unfaithful glance out the door and somewhere you would never know.

You could still feel the pain carry its way from him to you countless times as he made his way from you, before latching on to him for good, and leaving you to be set free, and your heart to learn to mend itself back together.

You say I’m crazy, ‘cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done. But when you call me baby, I know I’m not the only one. I know I’m not the only one, I know I’m not the only one. And I know, and I know, and I know, and I know, and I know, and I know, no, I know I’m not the only one.  


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touch of silver

prompt: witch!seokjin 

pairing: kim seokjin | reader
genre: witch au / fluff
word count: 1,715
description: Kim Seokjin only wants the best for you — little does he know that it’s all part of fate’s grand design.

He was like you once.

Magic is like wine—made divine by the greater powers and just as dangerous in excess. Still, there is freedom in the craft.

The mundane world does not understand the camaraderie that takes place between the ground they stand on and their very presence. How easily the elements can be coerced into doing their bidding, how the mind is nothing more than just another portal to explore, and how their bodies are vessels are more than just spaces on Mother Earth. It is nothing more than just self-actualization.

But, for people like you and him, where the very act of listening to the Earth’s calling and coaxing the world around you to listen, it is simple to comprehend. And not everyone can complete such a feat. Some are still learning, some may never know, and some can be stripped of their abilities.

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Tender (NSFW)

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, smut

A/N: Decided to play with some stylistic choices for this one, for no particular reason other than why the fuck not. Hope you guys like it!

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  • Joker: God has smiled upon you this day.
  • The fate of a nation in your hands.
  • And blessed be the children who fight with all our bravery,
  • ‘Til only the righteous stand…
  • You see the distant flames,
  • They bellow in the night,
  • You fight in all our names for what we know is right,
  • And when you all get shot
  • And cannot carry on, Though you die,
  • La Resistance lives on.
  • The Phantom Thieves: You may get stabbed in the head,
  • With a dagger or a sword,
  • You may be burned to death,
  • Or skinned alive, or worse,
  • But when they torture you,
  • You will not feel the need to run
  • For, though you die, La Resistance lives on.
  • Police: Blame Phantom Thieves! Blame Phantom Thieves!
  • Sae: Because the country’s gone awry,
  • Tomorrow night, these freaks will fry!
  • The Public: Tomorrow night,
  • Our lives will change.
  • Tomorrow night, We’ll be entertained.
  • An execution!
  • What a sight!
  • Tomorrow night.
  • Shido: Up there there is so much room,
  • Where babies burp and flowers bloom,
  • Tomorrow night up there is doomed And so I will be going soon!
  • Okumura and Kobayakawa: Shut your fucking face, uncle fucka,
  • You’re a boner-biting bastard, uncle fucka!
  • Kobayakawa: Looks like we may be out of luck!
  • Okumura: Tomorrow night, we’re pretty fucked!
  • Other Confidants: Why did the Thieves start this war?
  • What-the-fuck are they fighting for?
  • When did this song become a marathoooon?
  • Akechi: When Joker is dead and gone, my vengeance shall move on!
  • The Phantom Thieves: They may cut your dick in half,
  • And serve it to a pig,
  • And though it hurts,
  • you’ll laugh And dance a dickless jig,
  • But that’s the way it goes And though we’re shat upon,
  • Though we die, La Resistance lives oooooonnnnn!
  • Police: Blame Phantom Thieves!
  • Blame Phantom Thieves!
  • Blame Phantom Thieves!
  • Ryuji: *marches with the flag of the Phantom Thieves and trips*