turn right or left for dead

stop telling me to watch red dwarf

sci-fi episodes i want:

  • ship’s computer crashes due to virus acquired during a porn download from a lower decks ensign
  • firmware update was pushed out to the fleet, has vital error in the clock program that causes every computer to repeat 2300. translators have to explain to the enemy why everyone is an hour late to peace talks.
  • unintelligble message is sent out into the void because someone’s pet cat walked across their keyboard. message is interpreted as a marriage proposal.
  • universal translators break, everyone is reduced to hand gestures
  • viewscreen has dead pixels in the upper left corner, drives the captain a bit bonkers
  • space gps tells us to take a right where we should take a left. plucky recent academy grad on the graveyard shift realizes that this would take us into the sun and makes the course correction. ship’s computer advises her for two hours to make a u-turn when it is safe to do so
I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Sixteen

Summary: Your mom confronts you in the airport, leading to friction within your new family
Words: 2.2k
Jared x Reader x Gen, Danneel, Jensen, JJ, Tom
Warnings: aggressive confrontations, angst
Beta: @blacksiren

I Know Your Wife - Masterpost

Your name: submit What is this?

“It’s… it’s my mom.”

Keep reading

Living as a Liminal Space

Is this the way things have always been?
The question is always nestled in the back of your mind, smile carefully in place as you nod along with someone’s conversation. You don’t know who they are - their face feels familiar, but the list of remembered names in your mind is very small.
You stare at their cracked lips, trying to commit their words to memory. You wonder if they had ever used chapstick, and just as that thought bubbled to the surface, time slipped sideways. You awake from your dream to find seconds have passed, countless words lost in the haze of existing and you look up at the person speaking.
“I’m sorry,” you say, with that careful smile painted delicately across your face, “Could you repeat that?”
They do, but the words slide like quicksilver in and out of your ears, darting just long enough to hear, but not long enough to understand. You blink, trying to remember, but that moment is gone as if it had never happened. They are already talking about something else, addressing you by name, but their own name remains lost.
Conversations flow like a river around you, snatches of meaning caught here and there, but holding onto conversations is like trying to dam a stream with a bucket. You learn to scoop down as quickly as you can, snatching just enough context to divine meaning.

Is this the way things have always been?
The light bulb needs to be changed.
There are two bulbs, one broken, one not. The room is dim, but not so dim that it is untreadable. You see the light bulb, and it registers as something that Needs To Be Done. You look down to the warm mug in your hands, and consider that to change the bulb, you need to have your hands free.
And the thought is gone, the significance of room dimness lost as your thoughts fizz like static to wrap around the mug’s heat. You find the mug the next day, left on the corner of your desk, drained of coffee. The room’s dimness is remembered, but you should take care of that mug first, right? It could mold.
By the time you place the mug in the sink, your thoughts are already occupied by dish soaps and lipid breakdowns, and the bulb lies forgotten, nestled dead against the ceiling. 

One morning, neither bulb turns on, and you navigate the kitchen by the light of your cell phone before work.
That night, you use your cell phone again, because you’ve forgotten where the bulbs are, and need to get gas to get to the store.
The next night and the night after that, you ate early enough in the day that light bulbs weren’t needed, so the deadness never registered as a problem.
At the end of the week, your hunger draws you to the kitchen late in the evening, but it’s too late in the day to go to the store - they won’t be open.
When the problem of the bulb is not in front of you - is not making an active nuisance of itself, it’s like it doesn’t even exist.  
Nothing in this world exists, when it’s not in front of you. 

Is this the way things have always been?
“You’re so good at traveling!” your coworker said, “Aren’t you homesick?”
Belatedly, you realize that you’ve been away from home for a week and a half. Each day seems like an individual lifetime. They flow back-to-back never quite related, for all their similarities.
Like picking up a new novel every morning, each set of problems is unique to that situation.
Like picking up a new novel every morning, the previous book’s worries shed like water. They’re not here anymore, so they don’t matter.
“Do your parents know you’re in California?”
No, you think to yourself, I haven’t talked to them in months.
It’s not any malice or dislike that stops you from calling, and that’s what frightens you, a little.
You’d be happy talking to them, but you just…. Forgot.
Like all things, when they aren’t in front of you:
They just don’t seem to exist. 

Is this the way things have always been? 

“You know I was only joking!”
I didn’t, you think to yourself, forcing a titter of agreeable laughter.
Every word, unless emphasized deeply with emotive gestures and tonal changes, seems genuine. Flat-faced delivery of falsehoods always rings true to your ears. It takes effort to remember to parse out people’s wording - their delivery - and compare it against their previously stated opinions and choices.
It takes effort to remember to analyze again and again and again and again, until every conversation is a minefield of potential missteps, drawing close a handful of responses that could be interpreted a hundred different ways. At least with those, you can play along.
“How come you’re being so quiet?”
It’s exhausting to dance the dance of smalltalk, when your feet just seem unable to develop that muscle memory. So every conversation becomes mechanical, automatic, words filtering through keyword searches and tonal registers to find the ‘correct’ response that is both situationally appropriate, not emotionally hurtful, and hopefully accurate enough not to elicit guilt.
Like all automations, It doesn’t always work.
Like all machines, it doesn’t feel real.
The people of the world seem like a thousand NPCs, all demanding answers from an endless multiple-choice list of dialogue options. Humans become something like obsticals, and conversations like challenges, fights waged with memorized expressions and rote responses. You become accustomed to spitting back wisdom from books and television shows written by actual people, in the hopes that their words can make your forced empathy seem real.
None of it feels real. 

Is this the way things have always been?
“Do you have a crush on anyone?”
Should I?
Sexual and Romantic relationships burn brightly, all-consuming while they last. Obsessive is a word fit for the hungry hoarding of dragons, and the vicious consuming of ghosts.
It is an accurate adjective for your heart.
While things are here they are all that exist.
While things are elsewhere they may as well have never existed at all.
It applies to tasks,
To objects,
To people,
To relationships.
To your own emotions. 

Existence itself remains a fleeting experience of not-quite-real spaces. Each moment feeling the most important thing you’ve ever done, yet once that moment passed it leaves only the briefest of marks on your heart or memory. Often the memory slides away completely, leaving nothing but the memories of others, and whatever few pictures were taken.
Your self exists eternally on the outskirts of other peoples lives, recollection of what you’re like always reminded by pictures and stories told by friends. That perfect, careful smile painted delicately across your face slips to neutrality when alone.
You simply consume the world, experience it, and let it go again.
An eternal catch-and-release, where there is no fish more important than the one caught in your gaze NOW.

 Is this the way things have always been? 

Yes. 

And will always be. 

Your mind is a Liminal Space, and the world around you can only briefly visit. 

back (niklaus mikaelson drabble)

another short little thing I wanted to get out today. for the purpose of this fic, Kol is dead but can be brought back. this is the first time klaus has his humanity off and let’s say he gets it back this quickly. fluff and slight angst, fyi.

(no gifs are mine!!)

“Niklaus Mikaelson, how many times do I have to tell you this?” You scream, running from the kitchen over to the living room and nearly bumping into Klaus.

Originally posted by fiorenellasfalto

“What is it with all the ruckus, love? What have I done now?” Klaus walks into the hallway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

“What have you done?” You grab his hand and lead him to the kitchen while he clutches the towel.

“Love, if this towel falls, I won’t pick it up,” Klaus presses his face against your head and you pull away, pointing at the mess on the floor.

“Klaus what is this?” You let go of him and cross your arms over your chest.

“Oh, this,” he chuckles, unashamed by the sight before him. “Your little friends will wake up before you know it. Oh, and those others girls are still alive… I think.”

“You THINK?!” You rush over to said girls and press your fingers against their neck. “God damn it, Nik. They’re dead.”

“Oops?” He shrugs and grabs a bottle of water. “This no humanity deal is great.”

“Look, Niklaus. I know that this is the first time you’ve ever turned your humanity off, but you need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen! Please!” You sigh, looking at Klaus with furrowed brows.

“You know this is all your fault, right?” He raises his brows at you and you curse under your breath.

“Yes, I know, Nik, but–”

“No buts! I turned off my humanity because you left me. You turned your back on me when I needed you,” he shrugs and looks at you unapologetically.

“I didn’t have a choice!” You yell, walking over to the man you once loved. “I had to walk away from you. You practically placed Kol on his deathbed. If you can do that to your own flesh and blood, how do I know you wouldn’t do that to me? Kol was trying to make things right! HE DIED FOR YOU, FOR YOUR FAMILY! HE DIED FOR HOPE, NIKLAUS!”

“MY BROTHER WILL BE AVENGED!” Klaus throws the water bottle away, breaking a window in the process. “I will avenge my brother, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You can’t avenge Kol this way. You can’t avenge him if all you do is throw dead people on my kitchen floor. Maybe you need to let me go to avenge Kol. You can plot your revenge on me afterwards, I don’t care Klaus,” you shrug, finally meeting Klaus’s golden specs. “Find a way to bring Kol back and make things right. And then you two can plot ways to get rid of me.”

“What did you just say?” Klaus whispers, eyes narrowed as he walks closer to you.

“I said bring Kol back and plot ways to get rid of me. I’ll work around your killer plans, pun intended,” you let out a light chuckle, unable to meet Klaus’s dark gaze.

“You think I’d kill you? That I’d let Kol kill you or that he’d let me? Are you out of your mind?” His voice is lower than before, sending chills down your spine.

“All I’m saying is I’d rather have that happen than you mope around like this. I’m sorry I left Klaus. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, but I’m not important right now. Kol is–”

“How can you say that?” Klaus curses under his breath and runs a hand down his face. “I love you, Y/N. That’s why I’m so hung up on you! That’s why it hurt me so much when you left. That’s why it hurts when you think I had a hand in Kol’s death. I would never kill my siblings. You know that.”

You stared at him, not knowing what to say or how to react after Klaus’s little confession. He tilts his head to face you, a sea of turmoil in his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers again and you see the humanity switch turn back on, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. “Y/N, I’m so–I’m so sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I prom–”

“Hey, hey,” you whisper and walk up to Klaus, gently cupping his face and forcing him to look into your eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Really?” He whispers, an impish grin forming on his face.

“Really,” you chuckle and press your lips against his briefly. “I love you.”

Work it Out

Bucky x Reader

Summary: after pulling a muscle on a mission, you need to stretch out your leg while working out. But you need help to do so. There’s only one person around to help.

Word Count: 2595 (I got carried away!)

Warnings: language + references to smut + angst

A/N: I have so much unfinished hw and I’m writing a fanfic. honestly I should just drop out I can’t anymore w school. anyway, enjoy 💛


“That bad?” Wanda says, chuckling breathlessly. I shake my head. A familiar pain strikes through my thigh and I wince. Wanda looks at me in concern. “Stop.” she says. I look at her for a moment, almost limping on the treadmill, before pressing the “Stop” button and letting the conveyer belt slow to a halt. She finishes her own as well, wiping the sheet of sweat off her forehead.

“He literally ate his rice with his hands.” I sigh. Wanda raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know when the dating pool shrunk to all the losers.” I shake my head.

“Well, don’t take it out in your workout.” she says. “At least not until your muscle has healed.” I roll my eyes. “Doctor’s orders!” she says impatiently. I stick my tongue out at her and she smiles. “Well, I’m done anyway. Tony organized a dinner.” I tilt my head.

“Tony did something nice? What’s the catch?” I say. She shrugs.

“I think Pepper kinda forced him to. He said something about bonding, and I knew there was no way he had decided to do this on his own account.” I smile, shaking my head. “I’m gonna go clean up. Make sure to be down by seven.” I nod and bid her farewell. “And please take it easy on the workout.” she says, exiting the gym.

I bite my lip and turn around, looking for the next thing to do. After a moment, I decide to work on my combat by the punching bags. I cover my hands first so I don’t hurt myself, then begin punching at the sand bag, grunting with each blow. I use my left leg to kick, keeping use of my right minimal, like my doctor said to. My elbows strike the bag over and over, letting out my pent up anger. My stupid muscle was keeping me from going on the missions. I’m stuck in the compound and the best thing I can do is watch Netflix. I’m dead weight until my leg heals, and there’s no telling when that will be. My mind goes back to the first time I had to sit out on an assignment, five days ago.

We were about to leave for a mission, practically walking out the door as we finished gearing up. It had been a day since my doctor told me I hurt my leg. I was limping slightly, as the pain had turned into a dull ache. I pull on my jacket and look around at my teammates. Everyone is preparing, tucking guns into their jeans, putting in earpieces. I notice Bucky looking at me for a moment, but I don’t give it any notice, because he soon calls Steve over to him. I return to my prep, sliding a small dagger into my boot. I turn around, ready to leave, and nearly crash straight into a chest. My feet stumbled back and my eyes meet Steve’s concerned ones.

“What?” I say, furrowing my eyebrows. He folds his arms and looks down at my leg.

“I think you should maybe sit this one out, Y/N.” he says firmly. I stare at him incredulously.

“What?” I say, shaking my head. “No, I’m fine, Steve. I can handle myself.” He purses his lips.

“And if you can’t?” I tilt my head at him.

“I’m trained, Steve. I can handle a leg.” I say, looking at him stubbornly.

“I can’t risk you getting caught out there. You know they’ll take advantage of any of our weaknesses.” I step back.

“I’m a weakness?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to get hurt.” I exhale sharply, looking around at everyone else. Nat’s lips are pursed, looking at me identically to the way Steve is. Everyone has stopped what they’re doing to tune into the conversation, looking at me like I’m a child. Everyone except Bucky.

“You gotta be kidding me.” I say, setting my gaze on each one of them.

“He’s right, Y/N.” Tony says, his voice muffled by his suit. “It won’t help anyone if your leg acts up and you fall on your ass. That’s bad enough, now add the responsibility of innocents and the threat of HYDRA.” My nose flares, because I know they’re right. I silently throw off my jacket and limp back to the elevator.


“Y/N!” someone yells from behind me. I snap out of my thoughts and stop beating the bag in front of me, turning around. Bucky is standing by the Dumbbells, concern obvious on his face. “Are you alright?” he says. I breathe heavily and look down at my wrapped feet, wondering how long he was calling me for.

“Fine.” I mutter, turning back to the punching bag. I feel his eyes burning into the back of my head and huff. Great, I think, now I can’t concentrate. I straighten my posture and swallow, still knowing that he’s watching me. Ignore, ignore, ignore. I begin punching again, trying to keep from making any grunts of effort. I’m back into a routine, this time not out of anger, but out of genuine focus. I’m in the zone, pretending to deface a HYDRA junkie, making him call for his mom. I get too excited, because I jump up and do a 360, sticking out my leg—my right leg—to kick in midair. My hamstring protests, causing a jolting pierce to run up my leg. I yelp and fall to the ground, landing on my knee. “Shit.” I mutter. From the other side of the gym, I hear something falls and footsteps approach.

“Y/N?” Bucky says. “What’s wrong?” I wince and pull my legs out from underneath me, laying them out,

“Uh, hurt my leg.” I groan. His brows furrow in worry.

“How bad?” he says, his eyes darting around my leg. He sits down on his knees beside me, his hands frozen in the air, unsure of where to go.

“Think I disturbed the healing or something. Doctor kind of expected it to happen, considering I work in combat.” I sigh, the pain not subsiding.

“What can I do?” Bucky says hesitantly. There is already a polite decline leaving my mouth when I cut myself off. Shit. My face visibly shows me cringing at the words I have to say.

“Uh… My doctor said to do an exercise.” I mumble, looking down at my lap.

“What is it?” Bucky says. I sigh and run my hand over my face.

“I have to lie down and keep my legs straight, and, uh, another person has to lift my leg up really slowly and to stop when it starts to hurt. And, um, keep doing that until I can get my leg to a 90 degree angle.“ I breathe. Bucky itches the back of his neck. “You don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not just gonna leave you here.” he says. I keep from gritting my teeth. I kinda wish you would. It would save an incredible amount of awkwardness.

“Um. Ok.” My face turns hot as I lie down on my back with my hands at my sides. Bucky shuffles over, still sitting on the ground.

“Right leg?” he asks. I nod, watching my chest rise and fall. He gets up and leans down, taking my ankle in his hands. My breath nearly hitches at the contrast of his cold metal hand and his humanly warm flesh one. It makes goosebumps rise on my entire body. His eyes meet mine as he stands back up slowly, taking my leg with him. I internally throw profanities at myself for deciding to wear gym shorts. What’s wrong with sweats, huh? “Tell me when it hurts.” Bucky says quietly. I bite down nervously on my bottom lip. He slowly lifts my leg up, the movement of his fingers on my skin making my legs clench, which is infuriating because it makes my thigh hurt. Every move he makes, I can feel it like I’m watching it. But all I can see is my own chest and most of Bucky’s face. He looks right at me, watching for any sign of pain. Once my leg has reached the same height as wear I imagine his belly button would be, I wince and bend my knee for a split second. Bucky re-straightens it, skimming his flesh hand to my kneecap and gently pushing it down. He kneels back to the floor and sets my leg on the ground without letting go of it. He rises again, slowly, making his way back up. My fingers are digging into the mat underneath me, begging for this to be over before I do something stupid. I try to stare up at the ceiling, but it’s so difficult when I know I could be staring to his marble-like eyes instead. And that’s precisely what I do. My leg reaches his chest before the back of my thigh stretches painfully. I narrow my eyes and breathe in sharply.

“Um, it hurts.” I whisper. He stops and proceeds to repeat the protocol, kneeling and rising. The only times my eyes leave his are when they disappear behind my chest, setting my ankle down. The process repeats four more times, dead silence consuming the gym. The only sounds are my erratically beating heart, my murmurs telling him that my leg hurts, and my foot gently touching the floor. On the last time, my leg is nearly there, and when he takes a step closer to me to reach my leg easier, I nearly stop breathing. He’s towering over me, his orbs staring at me softly. He smiles slightly.

“There we go.” he says. I look at my leg and realize that it’s reached the 90 degree angle. I open my mouth, then close it. His hands roam down the back of my shin as he backs up and lays my limb back on the floor, reaching an arm out to help me up. I slowly lift my hand and take his flesh one, letting him haul me off the ground. We’re standing unbearably close, is hand on my forearm.

“Thank you.” I whisper, looking down. He nods his head and slides his hand back the way it came, down my wrist, through my hand, lightly applying pressure on my fingertips before stepping away. I take a long breath in before beginning to walk. I don’t let the breath out until I’ve safely reached my room, locking it and collapsing onto my bed.


I only have about twenty minutes to get ready for dinner, so I take an impossibly quick shower—desperately trying to wash away the tingling on my right leg— and change into a pair of dark skinny jeans and a cream colored blouse. I brush my hair and leave it down to air dry, as I don’t have time to do it. I get out of my room just in time and head down the lounge. It’s modern and sleek with grey couches and smooth wooden floors. On the other end of the room, there’s a mountain of food neatly placed on the board glass dining table. The food is surrounded by empty dinner plates and cutlery. The rest of the team have just made it, talking to one another and taking their seats. I can’t help but smile. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t blame them for keeping me off the missions. I feel grateful that they care about me enough to put my safety before the given assignment. Nat notices me standing at the entrance of the room and smiles, gesturing for me to approach. I do, greeting everyone in a friendly manner as I take a seat between Sam and Clint, breathing in the sweet scent of fresh food and laying a towel out on my lap. Most of it hasn’t been uncovered yet, still blanketed with a silverware dome. Chatter echoes around the table, but I stay silent, watching the plates being uncovered by outstretched hands, taking in the sight. Rice, ribs, steak, pasta. Every dinner food I can think of is stretched out on the table. I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I look over to Sam, whose looking at me mischievously. I narrow my eyes. “What?” I ask testingly. He smiles and props his cheek on his knuckles.

“I saw quite the sight earlier.” he says quietly. My eyebrows knit into a confused frown. “I saw you,” he pauses, “gettin’ all touchy with Barnes in the gym.” My eyes widen. I hear an irritating clink behind and look over to see Barton has dropped his glass of champagne. It leaks all over the glass, but no one seems to notice. He’s staring at Sam with his eyes wide. My head whips back to Sam and I give him a deadly glare. He doesn’t even look at me, but instead smiles at Clint.

“You had a thing with Barnes?” he says. I close my eyes at the volume of his voice and nearly off myself right there. The chatter at the table comes to an abrupt halt at the sentence. I’ve never been happier to not have Bucky at the table.

“No,” I croak, “I didn’t.” Tony giggles like a child. My eyes fly open and I look at him testingly. “I didn’t.”

“Then what the hell did I see?” Sam says. I swallow and look down.

“I hurt my leg. He was helping me stretch.” I say quietly. Tony makes an uh-hu and I grit my teeth.

“Stop.” I say. Sam and Tony have childish smirks on their faces that I wish I could punch clean off. Everyone else looks at me with raised eyebrows or widened eyes. “Nothing happened.” I mumble. Sam shrugs.

“Here he comes. We’ll just ask him ourselves.” Tony says. My breathing pattern disorients as I look behind me to see Bucky coming through the hall, shaking out his wet hair like a dog. I want to sink back into my chair and become one with it, completely out of sight and finished with this situation. “Hey, Barnes, what were you doing with Y/N in the gym?” Tony says. I barely look at him, just enough to see his face. He raises an eyebrow.

“Working out?” he says, like its the only possible thing that could’ve happened. I mean, it is. Of course it is. “That’s not what I saw.” Sam says, tilting his head at Bucky. I feel a lump form in my throat as Bucky looks at me in confusion.

“She hurt her thigh. I was helping her stretch.” he says, squinting.

“Mmhhmm.” Tony says. “I bet you help her stretch all the time.” I stiffen, looking around the table. Clint, Sam, and Tony giggle profusely. Steve is tugging at his lips to keep a smile from reaching them. Wanda and Nat look at me in surprise. I breathe in and look down, suddenly disheartened.

“You know what, guys?” I say quietly, standing up and folding the towel on the table. “Have a great dinner.” I push my chair out with the back of my knees. The boys aren’t laughing anymore. The table’s eyes are on me. I shuffle out of the chair and turn around, walking past Bucky, brushing his shoulder and trying not to stare at his concerned face. My feet thump, carrying me back to my room, locking the door and sitting on the end of my bed, a sigh escaping my lips.

We Have More Time

Ooops.  My hand slipped…

Warnings:  Wonder Woman Spoilers, Extreme Peril?

Rated: M (for non-explicit sexy times and language)  

Fix it that I might be persuaded to continue??? Y’all know what I like.  ;)   There’s a read more down there somewhere.  

779 words

Diana Prince/Steve Trevor

Thank you @bloomsoftly for looking this over for me!  <3  

His finger was on the trigger.  He closed his eyes and thought about Diana.   

Steve Trevor had known he loved her the moment he laid eyes on her.  From the second he’d sputtered alive again, coughing the sea water from his lungs and looking into the eyes of an indescribably beautiful woman. He’d been in love even then.

But of course the only time he could think to tell her was when he’d made up his mind.  Do nothing or do something.  And his ‘something’ had turned him into a dead man walking.    

She couldn’t even hear him.  Her ears were ringing.  He knew that look well.

Maybe it was better this way.  Maybe he’d even done it on purpose.  Sounded like him.  He always got it wrong.  Or maybe he got it just right. Either way, it was typical.  

He pushed all of that out of his mind.  He had seconds left on this earth and he wanted to spend it thinking about her. 

Keep reading

tutoring jungkook (riding his thigh)

summary: JUNGKOOK’S THIGH’S

note: this needs some editing but I just really wanted to get this out there


being good at math is always something that a lot of your friends envied about you. you’d get good grades even if you hadn’t touched your math book. but for some other people that was a big issue. so one day you were sitting in your desk waiting for the bell to go off. once it rang everyone rushed out of the classroom while you were slowly packing you’re books in the backpack.

‘’y/n I have a job for you to do’’ your teacher suddenly said. you’re eyes shot up at here once you packed your last book in the bag. 

‘’jungkook is probably going to fail math if he doesn’t fix his grades soon, so you are going to tutor him, since you’re one of my best students here’’

jungkook…

he was a laid back student and very quiet all the time. you never really talked to him, barely ever said hi but you always found him somewhat hot. like smoking hot. one day you were passing the gym in your town and you saw him working on his leg muscles, you always thought to yourself that he has killer thighs. wearing black skinny jeans that hugged them in every perfect place.

‘’yeah sure’’ you said while looking over to see jungkook packing his stuff up not caring to look at you or the teacher. it felt kinda awkward to be honest, you didn’t know if you should approach him or wait for him to come to you, but since he was about to fail maths you came to him first.

‘’hey’’ you started of slowly waiting for his eyes to look up at you but they didn’t. they were still glued to his bag even though he finished packing minutes ago. the teacher has now left and you two were alone in the classroom, dead silence.

‘’um…you free today? you can come to my house right now and we can start studying’’

he finally decides to look up at you and you meet his gaze. he picks up his bag and goes past you slowly walking away to the door. he turns around looking at you his eyebrow slightly raised.

‘’coming?’’ he says and you quickly rush over to him and lead him to your car.


your room was a mess. books were everywhere, pencils scattered all over the floor while you were trying to teach him a simple math equation. but it just seemed like he doesn’t care at all. he laid back his head on the foot of your bed, the sun shining on his black skinny jeans and there you saw them again. those thighs. how many times you’ve wanted to ride them, push your body against his and kiss his neck. those thoughts never left you head and thinking about it now made you nervous. 

you look up at him, his eyes closed shut, his hands on the side of his legs and you thought he fell asleep. ‘no don’t’ you were trying to convince yourself you wouldn’t do this but you did it. you couldn’t stop yourself something came inside of you that made you say yes.

you slowly set down your math book, crawling to him still not sure if you should do this but it was killing you inside. you put one leg over his leg and sat down on his thigh. his eyes right away look up at you with a shock. you started moving up and down slowly making yourself feel good. afraid to look up at him you hear him say ‘’what are..you-..’’ he starts but you shut him up by pressing your lips onto his. you always wanted to kiss him and now was your chance. since he didn’t move his lips you started first and then he finally started kissing you back. he let out a small moan making you even wetter so you pressed yourself a little bit harder on his thigh. 

his thigh felt amazing since you’ve never done this before, never really thought of sex as well while all the girls in your class were not virgins anymore. you honestly could care less about that what’s the big deal? but how you got so brave to do this to a guy you had been admiring for days and days is beyond what you wanted. he was just something special a very peaceful person never causing any trouble minding his own business. you’ve never seen him with girls or even guys he was always alone. asking yourself how the hell does he not have a girlfriend while he’s so smoking hot. 

jungkook moved his hands to your hips and started rolling you and helping you to grind on his thick thigh. you didn’t care at all if this is right or wrong you just knew this had to be done. “y/n does it feel good?” he moans out and you attach your lips to his neck leaving wet patches all over his neck. stopping then at his jawline you bite it a bit and he hisses back at you. you giggle and continue with your marking. 

“jungkook i’m..” you start off by saying and he just knew you were about to cum, so he tensed his thigh a bit more that way you would come sooner. he puts his forehead against yours while rocking your hips back and forth with now more friction. 

“ahh..” you say before cumming in your pants making you collapse your body onto his, while he put his arms around you holding you close by. 

“was that good?” he asked while his hot breath kissed your ear. you only nodded not being able to progress you actually just cummed on jungkook’s thigh. 

 “how about each time I get a problem right, you get to ride my thigh?“ he says with a slight smirk. 

"but how is that a reward for you?" 

"it is, i like watching you, you have no idea how hot that looked fuck” he says kissing you randomly somewhere on the neck. while you just laughed it off still not being able to move as the sensation was still inside of you.

Originally posted by jungkxook

emily-ily2  asked:

Can you do a Jeff x Reader smut maybe where he like fingers or teases the reader in public or something? ( your blog is amazing btw)

ooooh frisky Jeff 😏 btw this can either be set before Hannah kills herself, or you can be like me and pretend she never did such a thing and CLANNAH is real and everything is fine and dandy ~

598 words, Jeff Atkins/fem!reader

Jeff and you sat in a booth at Rosie’s diner, right across from Clay and Hannah. As cringey as you and Clay thought it was, Jeff had talked Hannah into getting Clay to agree to a double date. Jeff had to do a lot of convincing with you, though, as someone who preferred to be private with their relationship. The fact that it was Clay and Hannah was bearable, knowing that they were decent and good people. 

It all seemed innocent to start with, joking around with each other, teasing the other couple about how embarrassing their partner is, ordering milkshakes and fries. It was innocent, until you felt a strong, cold hand creeping along your upper thigh, eventually diving under the fabric of your skirt. The coolness of the hand made you squirm and twitch, hopefully not noticeably. Even after you got used to it being there, it still felt weird. Sideways glancing Jeff, who was talking to Clay about whatever he was being tutored in, he pretended like he was doing nothing. Out of the blue, or at least seeming so to everyone else, you laughed and blushed when you picked up on where the hand was getting at. The digits picked at the elastic of your underwear that rested between your thighs, eventually getting underneath that, too. Jeff was touching incredibly sensitive areas now, making you dive for your napkin and bring it to your face, pretending to have to wipe your mouth of food. 

“You okay, doll?” you nearly hit him with your napkin, he was so calm while saying that, though he was stroking around the edges of your vag, making you let out small hums and moans into your napkin. Why did he have to do this here? On a fucking double date too. 

God dammit, Jeff Atkins.

“Mmm-hmm, just got some stuff on my face, that’s all.” the three of them bought it, at least Clay and Hannah did. Daring to put the napkin down next to your plastic basket of fries, you started eating them and sipping your drink, as to not moan into the way he was nearly inside of you with his fingers. First one, now trying two. Hiding pleasureful noises as appreciation for good diner food, everyone let your weird behaviour slide. 

Jeff stopped after a good time messing around underneath your skirt, teasing around the insides of your thighs before he pulled out completely, excusing himself to go to the bathroom. You took the opportunity of Clay and Hannah being preoccupied with each other to fix your underwear and skirt positioning, and to try and unflustered your appearance as best you could. By the time Jeff got back, Clay said that he had some work to catch up on, and Hannah was exhausted. After hugging Jeff - and you - goodbye, they left the diner, turning back only to wink at you, giving you a thumbs up each before running happily to the car. 

You. Were. Mortified. 

“Jeff fucking Atkins, you obvious asshole!” you smacked him lightly on the shoulder, not actually that mad. All he did was laugh and tell you that your face was the dead give away. He and you argued playfully until you shut him up mid sentence with a heated kiss, right on the lips, which he returned in surrender. You held him by the wrists and brought them cheekily to where they’d started their escapade of teasing earlier on, your eyes being your words as they begged him to do it again, giving up on wanting privacy in the relationship, 

creideamhgradochas  asked:

Could you do 067: "I came home to a Nerf gun on the front porch and a note that says ‘Here is your weapon. I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good luck. xo’" from the 101 Fluffy prompts with Bucky please?

Why of course I can!!! And I am so fucking sorry this took a century and a half to post. I’m a horrible person. xxx

Originally posted by gliceria

Home Sweet Nerf Gun

Bucky came home to see an offensively bright, neon pink and orange nerf gun on the front porch. Just laying there all innocently on the doormat (the doormat says ‘Welcome! Beware of husband, cat is shady, wife is cool though’). With a curious grin he climbs the three porch steps and halts before the gun that has a small torn piece of scratch paper perched on top of it. It reads in your familiar script: Here is your weapon, I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good fucking luck xo.

Bucky right out cackles when he sees your P.S - ‘p.s you should not have taught me how to snipe baby’

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headcanons about The Martian universe:

-something goes wrong at NASA, or anywhere where Mark Watney frequents, blame it on mars. it started as him mumbling about it, and it spread. coffee maker breaks? “goddamnit mars.” somebody’s computer fucks up? “fuckin’ mars!” another rocket explodes upon being launched? "I BLAME MARS”

-the people in Watney’s household, his students, and the people at NASA when he’s around like to play disco music at increasing volumes. they see how loud they can get it till he notices.

-Mark Watney starts listening to disco music on his own sometimes. nobody’s really sure if its ironically or not.

-everytime someone fucks up at NASA, they are met with a (mostly) joking remark along the lines of, “Mark Watney, space pirate, colonized MARS, and you can’t even transfer files correctly!!!!”

-the above but with the next manned mission to mars. someone’s like “ugh i spilled the dirt sample i just took so now i have to recollect it” and their crewmate is overdramatically like , “ mA RK WATNEY, SPACE PIRATE, COLONIZED THIS GODFORSAKEN PLANET, AND U CANT EVEN COLLECT DIRT ?  U CALL URSELF A GOOD ASTRONAUT”

-”remember this, class, you might need it if NASA leaves you behind on a desolate planet someday”

-the crew with kids, at some point, all go to their kids school during “job day” or whatever where they talk about their jobs. the crews like “i was an astronaut! we accidentally left our friend on mars, but let’s not talk about that.” except Mark Watney and hes like “U WANT A JOB WITH A LOT OF EXCITEMENT? GO BE AN ASTRONAUT. THEY MIGHT LEAVE U ON MARS TOO, THEN PAY U A LOT BECAUSE THEY FELT BAD.”

-right after they found out that Watney was alive on mars, commander Lewis turns to Beck and is like, “uh huh. he’s dead, SUUURE” and cocks her eyebrow and beck is like “o H SHIT” bc hes the one that first plain out said that watney was dead and they had to go fast off the planet

-every year on his birthday NASA/the ares III crew/friends/family/fans send Mark Watney at least 80 different space/mars related things, including a card every year that says “sorry we left you on mars” with another sheet of custom made stickers that say “I SURVIVED MARS” with a lil thumbs-up astronaut

Jerome x reader smut
Word Count: 3501 
Warnings: masturbation, oral, sex, language, breath play, areas of dub/non con for touching, reader is definitely a murderer, threats galore.


I’m hungry for a fix. I’m hungry for the pace of the thrill and chase.

Your first night in Arkham. Still confused, still on edge at the idea of being surrounded by murderers. It’s his hands drifting over the skin of your ankles pulls you from sleep. A scream starts to build in your throat at the sight of him standing above you, but before you can even open your mouth, Jerome is chuckling.

“Whatever noise you make, nobody will come.” You stare at him, your heart pounding to the extent that you think your chest is moving with the force. It takes him a second to register your alarm. Jerome hits his forehead, chiding himself, before returning his gaze to you. “Wait. That made me sound crazy, didn’t it? Scratch that. I mean the guards don’t care about screaming murderers. It doesn’t matter either way. If anybody here is going to hurt you, it’s not me.”  

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fic: Smile Even Though You’re Sad

title: smile even though you’re sad

genre: au/romance

word count: 2700

description: dan is the son of a rich man, unwillingly studying business in London who wanders into a gallery looking for some quiet, and instead finds the happy-go-lucky owner with a camera around his neck, the nicest smile he’s ever seen and a knack for knowing exactly what to say.

a/n: thought i’d post a little mid-week fic to perk you up if you need some, erm, perking…?

read on ao3 here if you prefer.

“They gave me the designer clothes, the trust fund and the private education and they told me to be happy.”

“And are you?”

The steel of Dan’s gaze softens. He ruffles his hair a little and a single curl still manages to dangle across his forehead.

“You know, Phil, you’re the first person to ask me that.”

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Flirt // Chandler Riggs Imagine

Chandler is more slightly more over-confident and cheeky in this one, instead of the aDORABLE CINNAMON ROLL he usually is.

Requested by: @fannyimagines

PROMPT: The reader has a part on twd as Carl’s love interest. Chandler flirts with her during a panel, only making the fans ship them more<3

Hope you enjoy my loves!

-Mads<3

REQUEST HERE!   MASTERLIST


C H A N D L E R // 1 2 4 8

I nervously tugged at my top as I stood behind the stage with the rest of the cast. We were about to go on for a twd panel at ComicCon. I had done panels a million times before but this was the first time I was properly nervous.

The only reason I was so scared was because I noticed I had been getting more attention lately on social media, which worried me because I might be asked more questions than normal. My recent ‘fame’ It was due to the fact that I was beginning to get a bigger part in the show. I had been on The Walking Dead for years, playing Melissa Dixon, Daryl Dixon’s daughter. I had a decently important role, and I loved it.

Now, in season 6, I had lots more screentime due to the fact that I was becoming Carl’s love interest. Chandler was my best friend on set, so naturally, we were both super excited to have more time to work together. Well, I was probably more excited than him because let’s face it, Chandler’s pretty damn cute.

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Imagine you’re a peasant thief

Imagine you’re a peasant thief that’s just been caught by the guards of the rich lord you’ve been trying to steal from. It had been going so well - in the dead of night, no one was supposed to be home, the guards weren’t supposed to be anywhere near there - and yet, when you had gotten right up to the prize, a collection of gold and jewel encrusted eggs, suddenly there were guards all around you and nowhere to hide.

Within moments they had managed to subdue you and drag you into another smaller room, where the master of the house was waiting in his bedclothes. “I see you’ve heard the rumor of my golden eggs,” He said, waving off the guards, one of which turned and left, locking the door behind them. You pretended not to hear and looked away, possibly for an exit, but the master grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Well?”

You continued to ignore him, and he sighed, as though it were just unfortunate. With a snap of his fingers, the remaining guards came forward again and yanked you up, forcing you over to a bed piled high with luxurious fabrics. They pushed you down, your bound hands making it impossible for you to break your fall. You growled deep in your throat before turning yourself over, now only seeing the Lord in the room - you were alone.

“You thought you could just come in here and steal them? without even asking nicely?”

You scoffed and sighed before murmuring sarcastically, “Please, can I have your precious eggs?”

The master smirked, a quick tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “As you wish.”

In a flash he reached out and tore the pieced shirt and leggings from your body, and slapped a hand over your mouth when you cried out in alarm. He then leaned in and you felt the tiniest two pinpricks on your neck, something cool and fast making you lose the ability to struggle.

Nearly paralyzed, you could only watch in horrified shock as the Lord stepped away to discard his robes, his large and erect cock much bigger then your own. “What are you doing?! What have you done to me!” You tried to yell, though it came out more as an angry whisper, and he smiled as he came over again, incisors much sharper then any human’s.

“Why, I’m just giving you what you asked for.”

Unable to fight back, he pressed your legs apart and made himself comfortable between them, amusing himself with exploring your body and taking particular interest in touching your soft cock, playing with it until it was at least semi erect. You couldn’t believe your body was betraying you this way as another man touched you like this, but the worst was still to come.

When he grew bored of playing with your cock he began to move downward, long fingers pressing and probing up and against the rim of your ass, which to your bewilderment seemed to burn at his touch. You struggled to keep back a moan, unsure where it was coming from, because in your head you knew this should be disgusting but feeling it was another thing altogether.

Satisfied, he leaned back a bit to touch himself, a thick pearly substance leaking from his cock that he used to wet the rest of him, making him grow bigger with each swipe and tongue flicking out as he watched the war in your eyes. He was easily the size of your forearm now, so there was no way you wanted this, and yet something in you was suddenly craving it, wanting something you had no name for.

The Lord chuckled as he saw the want win out and shuffled forward, pushing your thighs apart and against your chest to make it easier to press into your fluttering opening, groaning as your body gave one last weak resistance. It should have hurt, but whatever he had done to you was preventing the pain and instead only giving you pleasure as the head popped in, and then he was shoving the rest of it into you, making you gasp as it filled you completely.

He was kind enough to give you a moment to adjust, but only that moment, because the warmth of you felt so good and he was impatient to move, thrusting shallowly until he could work his way up into fucking you properly. It was so vigorous he was forcing you up the bed with each thrust, seemingly lost in the throws of your body as he sought his pleasure and dragged all of it out of you as well - had you had the ability you probably would have been screaming with pleasure, never having experienced such passion as this.

Before long though you felt something shift, his cock seeming to grow at the base where it slammed into you but then travelling along the length of him, pressing into you and making you sob in euphoria as it rolled along your sweet spots. You were sure you were seeing some when the burst of warmth bloomed into the space his cock had fucked into you, a no less warm splash of cum hitting your stomach as you came all over yourself. Gasping for breath, you forced your eyes open and blinked past the sweat and tears to watch as it happened again, actually able to see the bulge travel down his cock and into you, the burst of warmth actually a round sized object you could just make out under your skin.

Groaning and squirming, the Lord seemed to realize what was happening and pulled back just enough to flip you back over on your front, yanking your hips up and thighs apart to keep fucking the thick balls of mind numbing pleasure up into you, making your belly grow hard and full with at least a hundred of the fist sized things, your cock all but spent from cumming yourself dry all over the underside of your belly and the sheets below.

By the time his thrusts began to slow you could almost rest your belly against the bed while still kneeling, almost out of your mind and shaking hard as he pulled away from you. As though trying to keep him inside you felt your ass clench as he slipped free, jostling the things inside you and making you moan.

You almost missed the hands untying your own, but immediately used them to roll onto your side when you almost fell on your belly, unable to believe the size of it as you grasped at it and turned to glare at the Lord. More and more feeling was returning to your body, with it the weight of your now massively huge stomach and your vocal cords.

“What have you done to me!”

The Lord turned from where he was slipping back into his clothes, a more serene smile on his face as he came back to the bed and lay a hand on your belly, causing the things to shift around under his touch. “Just what you asked. Those eggs will take at least a fortnight to mature, and they’ll grow rapidly at random, so we have a little time to get to know one another better. But don’t worry, they aren’t the golden kind. That comes after I’ve fucked each and every one of them out of you.”

It’s been awhile, but gotta write when the inspiration hits!
xxx Soup

Fic: Wait

Prompt: “When was the last time you slept?”

“When was the last time you slept?” Oliver asks, walking into the bunker after a long day at City Hall.

He hadn’t expected Felicity to be here, considering he’d told her to take the day off this morning after they pulled an all nighter following up on a lead that turned out to be another dead end. Since she is still wearing the outfit she had on when he left this morning, he knows she hasn’t left.

“What day is it?” Felicity asks, not looking up from her screen.

“Tuesday,” he says, looking around the room for any sign that she’s at least eaten, but all of the garbage cans are empty, so he knows she hasn’t. The only sign that she’s consumed anything is the coffee cup in front of her and the empty K-Cups on the counter near the kitchen.

“Tuesday, right,” she mutters, clearly distracted by whatever it is she’s doing. “And what day did we go after Valenzuela?”

Oliver looks at her in concern before saying, “Saturday.”

She’s got to be kidding. She can’t have been up that long. How is she even functioning right now?

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A Word to Describe You -Preference-

Originally posted by netflixruinedmylifeimagines


Dean

Dean couldn’t stop grinning. Normally Dean was annoyed when Bobby chose him for gun cleaning duty but he had been more than happy to help when you had been assigned the task. You were both sitting out in the salvage yard. Dean watched as you sang along with the radio, cleaning the pistols and rifles expertly without a second thought. It was supposed to be raining today but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It seemed like no matter what the sun was always shining when you were around. In general, Dean found that everything was always better when you were around. It didn’t matter if it was a hunt, a road trip, or a food run. You just always made everything better. Dean thought you were far better than anything he could ever hope to deserve and he was still confused everyday as to why you had chosen him. He was grateful for whatever it was. It meant that he was able to enjoy moments like this. You looked up at him and gave Dean the smile that was reserved for him. A smile so genuine it physically hurt Dean to look at it. He smiled back, or really just looked back because he hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d returned home to you yesterday. You laughed and went back to work. Dean continued to stare, mesmerized. You were everything he never thought he’d ever get to have. You were happiness.

Sam

Sam shouldn’t be alive. The hunt had took a bad turn and he should be dead. But you were there. Somehow you were in the right place at the right time and Sam was alive. Ever since Sam had met you things always seemed to happen that way. The motel just happened to have one room left and it just happened to be half price. Dean managed to choose the right boxes on his scratch offs to win $500 everytime. The fleeing monster would accidently take a wrong turn that led to a dead end. Nothing bad could happen when you were around. It became statistically impossible. Sam was brought out of his thoughts when you came and sat across his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and tucked your head into his neck and closed your eyes. Before long you had drifted off to sleep. He kissed your forehead and smiled. Because of you he was the luckiest man on earth, in every way imaginable. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to find them showing his favorite movie. He laughed to himself. You really were his lady luck.

Castiel

Cas kept watch as you slept. You both had just finished a hunt that left you exhausted. After you showered you had kissed Cas goodnight and immediately thrown yourself on the lumpy motel bed. You were asleep within seconds. It always surprised Cas how quickly you could fall asleep. Everything about you surprised Cas, really. He couldn’t believe that someone who had been through what you had could manage to stay such a good person. The evidence of your hardships lay all across your sleeping form. You were covered in scars, some old and some fresh. You had bruises all along your knuckles and a few on your ribs. Your bones had been broken numerous times and Cas lost track of how many broken noses he had to heal for you. You’d been to Hell, fought in heaven and ran through purgatory, like the honorary Winchester that you were. You’d seen the worst of humanity, monsters, and heavenly beings (including Castiel himself). Yet somehow through all of that you somehow managed to remain optimistic and happy. You laughed at Dean’s dumb jokes and Sam’s stupid pranks. You tried to see the good in everyone even when there wasn’t a shred of decency in them. No matter what, each day you woke with a smile and told Cas you how much you loved him every night. You rolled over in your sleep and felt around on the bed. When you found his hand you gripped it tight and sighed. Your breathing evened back out and you were fast asleep again. Castiel smiled. You truly were fascinating.

Bonus: Bobby

There was only one thing Bobby could think of to describe you. Trouble. If you weren’t off in some corner making out with Dean you were distracting Sam from his research and work. If Cas was around you ignored all the work Bobby needed you to do to watch cartoons with him instead. You ate all his food, used all his ammo, and refused to help with the dishes. Sure, you helped stop a couple of apocalypses but what did that matter when he couldn’t walk 2 feet in his own house without tripping on one of your bloodied flannels? He could hear you and Dean giggling upstairs. They’re supposed to be translating rituals he thought. Seconds later something hit the ground and shattered. “That wasn’t me!” you called out. Bobby sighed but couldn’t keep from laughing. What was he gonna do with you?

Silently Falling (L.H.)

Originally posted by fivesosgif

A/N: *Nervously laughs* Hey, guys! I know, I suck at uploading. What I’m about to upload isn’t any better but alas, it’s something. I hope you guys like it :)

Masterlist || Ask

*****

“He’s back.”

“Have you seen him? Military school did that boy some good.”

“I know, right? Talk about muscles.”

“He’s hot.”

“Well, he was hot to begin with, but now he’s just oozing sexy.”

I had heard enough and slammed my locker door shut which made the group of girls gossiping a few lockers down from mine stop talking and look at me.

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Stuck In Time (Lafayette x Reader)

Words: 5700

Warnings: Cursing, angst

Prompt: Day One of @helplessforbroadway write-o-thon! (Soulmate AU)

A/N: This was really fun! Glad I’m participating! <3


You broke it.

You stared at the broken glass, the clock forever stuck on four days, three hours, fifty-six seconds. Alexander looked at you, a sorrowful expression on his face. You ran into his arms, clutching the jacket between his fingers.

“What, what did you do?” He whispered, his lips brushing the skin on your neck. You shook your head.

“I, I couldn’t, I can’t lose you. I can’t. I don’t care about the stupid soulmate system, I just want to stay with you. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you,” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks, “I love you, Alexander. And no one else is going to stop me from doing so.”

“But…Y/N,” he started, but you shushed him, pressing your lips against his. He placed his hands on either side of your face, your combined tears making the taste salty.

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Have You Ever Seen a Man Break

Request: “Part 2 of Have you seen a heart shatter please!! It was so beautifully heart breaking oml we need a happy ending;_;” among other sweet reblogs and messages from all of you :)

Word Count: 2,521

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by many. This is the sequel to Have You Ever Seen a Heart Shatter. Here is Part 3 to the series.

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


Wind chimes dance and ring against one another in the slight breeze. You latch the screen door behind you and step onto the front porch, glass of iced tea slipping between your fingers, drips of condensation roll down the side of the glass and burst against the red wood beneath your feet. Songbirds chirp in the nearby bushes, passing news of some new visitor rumbling past the house in a flawless black vehicle.

You fall onto the two-person porch swing and pull your knees up as the world rambles on around you and the lazy birds. The smell of orchids and freshly turned dirt float by as another short gust of wind sends the wind chime tinkling again. The evening summer sun rains down onto you, warming your cold bones, loosening your tense shoulders.

A sigh drifts out of your mouth as you tilt your head back and close your eyes. Who knew the south could be so peaceful?

Cicadas buzz in the fields across the road as another car thunders past and spits pebbles out everywhere. The entire world is at peace here and has been since you arrived eight days before.

The only missing piece is Newt’s laugh. Which, you remind yourself before the tears can nip at your eyelids, you are perfectly okay with never hearing again.

“Get up.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Rosa?”

Your little sister wraps her bony hand around your wrist and tries to jerk you forward. “I’m serious. Get up.”

You pull your arm from her grip and frown. “Are you okay?”

“No. We need to go. Now.”

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where the sun and stars meet

masterlist

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader (oh my word, she’s done it, she’s written a non-Lin fic, holy moly, we never thought this day would come)

Summary: He knew you well enough to know when you were forgetting to breathe.

Note: i fell straight into rafa hell and apparently this is how i decided to handle it lmao. @fragmentofmymind and @alexanderhamllton had to deal with my yelling about this so go give them extra love THEY DESERVE ALL OF IT I LOVE THEM A LOT. 

okay omg i love you guys and i hope you enjoy the garbage, feel free to come yell at me about it <3

Word Count: approx. 4500? (guys it’s a ONE-SHOT ARE YOU PROUD)


Being a twenty-eight year old woman living in Los Angeles could be tough.

In six years of residence in the city of stars, you had realized that sometimes the lights weren’t so much sparkling as they were blinding. Blinding of the goals you’d set out to achieve, the paths to get there, the hope and promise of a state drowning in sunshine and smog. Although you had never expected it to be, the journey wasn’t easy.

Sure, you’d had plenty of dancing gigs during your time there so far, but your heart was in choreography and you were determined to keep working until you made that goal happen. You knew that you were talented, that when you were in your flow you could tell stories and string together phrases and characters with even the most subtle pieces of movement. Every once in awhile, though, you lost your flow.

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