tra guy

black magic [m]

credit: x.

❛❛im one of the brightest witches at this prestigious magic academy and ur a human who somehow got admitted and everyone knows u dont ACTUALLY have magic but cant prove it so they hate u for it but i actually like you??? and have a crush on u??????? our paths have just never crossed until ur class blew up n somehow we became class partners and– hold on what do you mean we fucked up this spell so we wanna fuck each other’s brains out??❜❜ AU

COUNT → 18.430

GENRE → smut 

PAIRING → taehyung | reader

WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | mild cum play | explicit language | female masturbation (male if you squint) | oral sex | penetration | graphic dirty talk

NOTE → this was requested and inspired by @blueagust!!!!!! the idea went thru several stages and yelling over kkt but this is the final product :-D im sorry mom

You hated everyone at this fucking academy.

It wasn’t just that they always smelled like unicorn turds—and that wasn’t a compliment because unicorns had the nastiest smelling shit in the entire universe—but they were so arrogant and had this fucking superiority complex when it came to humans. You were sure if they actually lived with them and in human society instead of hidden away at some prestigious academy they wouldn’t pull this bullshit in the first place, but they still despised them.

Or maybe it was just one human they despised in particular.

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two rotten apples | pt. 4 [preview]

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jungkook grumbled to himself, then pulled his key from the ignition as he shoved the truck’s door open. The dim lighting from inside the convenience store greeted him, but he only saw that guy again. He’d been watching for the past few minutes, waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home, but something was stopping you from that—him.

“Hey,” he loudly said upon walking inside. “You ready to go or what?”

“Jungkook.” He could hear the sigh of relief you gave upon seeing him. “Yeah. Sorry. I just need to go tell my manager I’m going home.”

Jungkook nodded, gesturing for you to go into the backroom with his head.

And that left him alone with some guy who would love nothing more than to get into your pants. Although that was something they had in common, there was no way in hell anyone but Jungkook would be doing that—if he could help it.

“You were here last time too, weren’t you?”

“What?” the guy asked, surprised. “I don’t know.”

To look even more suspicious, he grabbed at his cap and tried to conceal himself. Although, the pants full of holes and greasy hair didn’t help much.

Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, Jungkook stared at the floor with his eyes darting from the man’s worn sneakers to an ant on the tile. He’d let it go last time just because you were watching, but not this time.

“I think you do,” Jungkook said, raising his head. “I saw you fucking here last time. I know I did. And I thought I told you to leave her alone.”

“I think if she wanted me to leave her alone, she’d tell me.”

Jungkook took a step forward at that. “Listen here, you fucking—”

“He just told me to check the register but we can go,” you said upon walking back out of the backroom, then glanced at the two of them. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just trying to explain to this douche here that you don’t like him.”

“Jungkook,” you scolded. “It’s fine. Let’s just go. Please.”

His head snapped in your direction. “You’re okay with this?!”

“Okay with what? I don’t want any trouble. Please. Can we go?”

Jungkook guffawed, then glared at the guy when he snorted. “I don’t care. You leave her alone. You come in here every night she works here and talk to her—”

“I didn’t realize it was a crime to talk to a girl…”

“It’s not but it is if she doesn’t want to talk to you. That’s harassment. You know she would get fired if she said anything, so you take advantage of that and keep talking to her anyway, hoping that she’ll give in. But you don’t know her like I do. She doesn’t care about your microscopic dick or want to fuck you.”

The guy laughed hollowly at that. “No one is harassing anyone, dude.”

“Yeah? If you aren’t, then what the fuck are you doing exactly? You haven’t even bought anything and you’ve been here for, like, twenty minutes. Maybe you don’t know what fucking time it is but for me, it’s almost eleven o’clock at night. If you want to get her number, maybe you should do it during the daytime when there’s other people around. Actually, how about you don’t do that at all and just get your beer and your bag of cheetos and get the fuck out of here.”

“Dude. Calm the fuck down. We were just talking.”

“All right. You call me ‘dude’ one more time—”

“Who the fuck even are you? Her boyfriend or something?”

“I don’t have to be her anything to get you to leave since I have fucking hands, but if I say yes, will that make this easier? And less painful—for you, that is.”


Summary: You and your three-month work crush get stuck in a Target store when a blizzard hits town. Fluff ensues.

Author’s Note: To start off Marvel-ous July, here’s a winter season fanfic, even though it’s the opposite weather right now here in sunny California.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,878

Originally posted by buchanstan

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12x19 Picspam Review (LOUD NOISES)

Paper bag to breathe into? Check.

Espresso? Check.

Gently worn trench in my floor suitable for my inevitable pacing? Check.

I am so ready to start this review.

*presses play*


*immediately jumps up from chair to pace, breathe heavily, and chug espresso*

Yep, this is gonna go just swimmingly

(Trigger warning for the beginning of this review. I was going originally going to skip it as to avoid the triggery content, but then I realized I had shit to say about it. Also a spoiler warning for Dexter in the beginning. If you want to skip that stuff, just… scroll really fast.)

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Imagine this “everything is black/white until you see find your soulmate” AU with Bethyl.

Daryl’s in his 30s and he starts to think he’s just gonna live his whole life in black and white, because a guy like him probably isn’t meant for a soulmate. (Never mind that Merle of all people actually had one, they don’t talk about that. They don’t talk about Carol. They don’t talk about how for two years, everything was in color for Merle and he got off drugs and went on the straight and even got a damn job. They don’t talk about how his past reared it’s ugly head and took her life in the process or how Merle almost overdosed a couple weeks later. He never, ever asks Merle what it was like for those two years to be able to see colors.)

Merle might have found his soulmate, but that was some kind of fluke for the Dixon brothers, and even if it wasn’t, well, look how that turned out. He figures maybe he’s better off seeing in black and white, it ain’t so bad, after all. But then one day he’s driving down the road in his bike and he sees some ratty old car pulled off to the side of the road with steam coming out of the hood. He almost doesn’t stop, but for some dumb reason he does (in his head he can hear his brother telling him that he’s always been the sweet one of the pair). Everything is fine until he comes up alongside the car and looks down into the window and suddenly the whole world tilts beneath his feet and spins like a kaleidoscope and when it rights itself, the colors are so brilliant that it makes his eyes ache and water.

Even through the blur of tears he can’t stop drinking in colors he doesn’t even know the right names for yet: the soft pale color of her hair, the brilliant bright color of her eyes, the pretty sweet shade of her lips that matches the surprised flush across her cheeks. He thinks there’s no way this can be real. Maybe he fell off his bike and hit his head, maybe he’s dreaming. A sudden sense of dread hits him as he questions: is this soul-mate thing ever one-sided? What if he’s looking at her with his eyes all full of color and she’s still staring in black and white, wondering what this rough, strange, dirty man is staring at her like this for? (Cause there’s no way that a girl like her, all sweet and pure and innocent looking, could have him as a soulmate, right?)

But then she rolls down her window and leans out a bit and the prettiest damn smile he’s ever seen curves up her lips as she says simply, “I have no idea what the name of the color of your eyes is, but I think they’re just about the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

He’s still bewildered when she sticks out her hand and offers to shake, but he manages to respond with a gruff ‘Daryl’ when she says her name is Beth. He’s so overwhelmed he almost feels dizzy but somehow, when she ends up on his bike ten minutes later with her arms around her waist, it just seems right.

Just as right as it seems when instead of looking for an auto shop or even trying to take her home, they just spend the day driving, basking in all the colors that neither of them seem to need name for beyond perfect and gorgeous and beautiful.

(Those are all the words he uses for her colors, too.)