u guys have no idea of how much i love this woman

the timing is all wrong- h.s imagine

Originally posted by irinagudronchik


You chuckled softly and excused yourself from the conversation you were having with one of your friends.

Harry drunkenly plopped his body next to yours, his body almost on top of yours. He buried his face into your neck and smiled.

As if your hands had a mind of their own, they started to rub his back in a soothing matter. “How are you doing, birthday boy?”

Harry hummed and pulled his body back so he could look at you properly. He had a stupid, drunk, smile on his face. “I’m having the time of my life!”

You laughed, heart swelling at your best friend. “Good! You deserve the world.”

Even in Harry’s drunken state, his stomach did backflips hearing your words.

“Harry! Come on, let’s dance!” a female voice shouted from the middle of the dance floor.

You cleared your throat and nodded your head towards her, “Your girlfriend is calling you.”

Harry looked back between Brooklyn and you. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by Brooklyn calling him once again.

You tapped on his cheek, “Go! We’ll talk later!” Harry gave you a peck on your cheek and promised to meet up again later and proceeded to dance with Brooklyn.

You stared as he wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a hard kiss to which she returned, her arms wrapping around his neck. You cleared your throat and looked down at the beer bottle in your hands before taking a long chug from it.

Louis came over and sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “I saw that.”

You looked at Louis and smirked, “What? Saw Harry acting like a proper drunk idiot?”

Louis shook his head and returned a smirk back to you, “No. Saw you drooling over the drunk idiot.”

You smacked Louis hard on his chest. “I told you that in secrecy!”

Louis rubbed where you hit him and gave you a look, “Oi! I haven’t told anyone!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m surprised you haven’t with that giant mouth of yours.”

Louis held his hands up in defense, “To be honest with you, I am too.”

You gave him one more look before the two of you burst out into laughter. You shook your head and looked back to Harry and Brooklyn dancing to a slower song, arms wrapped around each other. Still looking at him, you told Louis, “Doesn’t matter. He would never feel the same anyways.”

The next morning, you woke up to a slight headache. Damn it. Should have drank more water last night. You picked up your phone to see several messages from Harry, no doubt he texted it to you when he was drunk; the thought making you smile softly.

Y/N love! Miss you!

We should totally rent a boat.

Promised you a dance! Where r u

Did u leave u dick

LOL you don’t have a dick

Wait do u




You laughed at Harry’s texts, wondering how in the world could he ever get these kind of ideas in his head. You glanced at the time at the top of your phone and figured you should make sure he got home alright.

“Hello?” Harry groggily answered.

“Morning sunshine.” You smiled getting up from your bed, heading over to the kitchen.

“I am anything from being in a sunshine mood this morning” Harry said, eyes closed, snuggling into his covers. “Can you bring me breakfast?”

You shut your fridge door and balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder, twisting a water bottle open, “Pass.”

Harry groaned loudly into the phone, “But it’s my birthday!”

You gulped down your swig of water, “It was last night, idiot!” Harry pouted, “But I’m hungry. And you love me.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. Harry whined, “Please Y/N.”

You sighed and smiled, shaking your head. “Fine.”

Harry cheered before wincing from the sudden movement, very hung over. “Maybe bring some aspirin as well.”

You were humming to yourself softly, holding a bag filled with Harry’s favorite breakfast: Avocado toast. Yours: A chocolate croissant.

You walked up to George, Harry’s doorman and dropped a bag in front of him. You smiled, “Hey George.”

George looked up at you and smiled before reaching into the bag. “Morning Miss Y/L/N.”

“I grabbed you a breakfast sandwich this time. George put his hand over his heart, “A woman that knows my heart.”

You laughed and walked away, “See ya, George!”

After taking the elevator to Harry’s apartment, you finally got to his door. You pulled his spare key out of your pocket and unlocked the door. You shut the door quietly, careful not to make too much noise. You placed your purse and bad with food on the counter. You began to walk to Harry’s bedroom but froze instantly. You heard a very loud moan come out of his room. You peeked your head from behind the hallway and were met with a rather disgusting sight. Brooklyn was on her knees in front of Harry. You quickly turned around and walked away, picking up the food and purse on your way out. Once you finally exited his apartment, you leaned against the door and sighed. She must of came over as soon as we hung up. Not wanting to let the food go to waste, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone.


Louis sat at his dining room table, hand on his chin, pouting, “If I knew you were going to give me this, I wouldn’t have answered your text.” You shrugged your shoulders, finishing the rest of your croissant. “Harry loves that.”

Louis crossed his arms and mumbled, “Harry also likes sardines.”

You wiped your mouth before Louis spoke up again, “Why didn’t you just give him this then?”

You picked at the button on the top of your shirt, “I was but decided not to.”

Louis stared at you, “Brooklyn was there wasn’t she?”

You sighed and shook your head yes. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Brooklyn. She was a very sweet girl. You tried to look for something small to dislike her but unfortunately, you couldn’t. Brooklyn was lovely. She was someone Harry needed.

Louis bit his lip, a look of sympathy on his face. He didn’t understand how Harry could be so blind. Y/N was perfect in his eyes. She was funny, the right amount of sassy, and beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have the honor to call her their girlfriend. Wanting to change your mood, he asked, “Let me show you something.”

“Louis! That was awesome!” You shouted. The two of you were sat in Louis’s mini studio inside his apartment. He just played back a song that he was recently working on, planning for it to be his next hit.

Louis pressed the stop button and smiled brightly at you, “You liked it?”

“Loved it! So proud of you!” You smiled, giving him a hug. Louis smiled and hugged you back a little tighter, “I’m glad.”

Harry was sat on the couch in your living room apartment, feet on the coffee table. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.” You came back into the living room, popcorn in your hands. You sat next to him, getting into the same comfortable position as well. You shrugged your shoulders and grabbed the remote, going through the DVR. You clicked on the episode of Game of Thrones you were looking for and nestled into the couch a little more. “Wait, you skipped an episode. We didn’t watch that one yet.” Harry interrupted you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I watched that episode with Louis the other night” you said, grabbing the remote again. “I’ll watch it again if you’ll like.”

Harry turned his body so it was facing you, “Since when have you and Louis started hanging out?”

You shrugged your shoulders once more, “We’ve always hung out.” Harry scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah..but never alone..”

You gave him a confused look, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Harry sighed, “It doesn’t but I didn’t know you guys were on that friendship level..”

You gave him one more look before laughing, “Louis is great company, what’s the big deal?”

Harry got back into his position and rested his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, a sense of worry going through his body. “I’m being silly, sorry love. Can we watch the episode?”

You were holding your chest, trying to gain your breath back. Louis stood next to you, tapping his foot, hands on his hips. “Y/N-” You held up your finger, still trying to catch your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N it was only a block!”

You and Louis started to grab some takeout. While you guys were walking back to his apartment, it started to rain. Not wanting the food to get ruined, Louis suggested the two of you to run the short distance. Finally, you were able to breathe. You narrowed your eyes at him, “I could have slipped on the rain and died.”

The two of you stepped into the elevator, he smirked at you. “That would be an unfortunate way to die. ‘Girl defeated by rain.’ Now that’s a buzzfeed article I would read.”

Ever since Harry’s birthday party, you and Louis became insanely close. At first you saw Louis as a distraction from your feelings for Harry but eventually you grew to really enjoy his company. Louis always admired you and hanging out with you lately has made his feelings for you grow more.

After the two of you finished the food, you really wanted to hear Louis’s new song again. Louis pretended to be annoyed but his heart warmed at the thought of you loving his song. As Louis played back the song, you began dancing like a mad woman. Louis was watching you, laughing at your horrid dance moves. As you were dancing, your foot caught on one of the wires that was on the floor. Louis quickly grabbed you before you fell to the floor. You placed your hands on his arms and looked up at him. You don’t know who kissed who first but you soon found yourself sitting on Louis’s lap, hands tangled in his hair. The two of you kissing as his song was playing quietly in the background, repeating itself.

You were walking to your door, hand in your hand, smiling at Louis’s latest text to you. You quickly sent him a text, arranging to meet up later. As soon as you opened the door, Harry was on the other side. His hand was up, looking like he was going to knock before you opened the door. “Hey. what are you doing here?” you asked, putting your phone into your back pocket.

“I broke up with Brooklyn.”

part 2?

anonymous asked:

Hi there :) I love your take on andreil and I wondered if you would write something about Andrew being jealous/possessive of Neil? I always read fics where it's Neil in this situation.. thank u!! :)

i come bearing gifts, my wonderful anon. this was way too much fun to write. thank you for your request! also on AO3

send me prompts :)

“Kevin called today just to say that he’s emailing me extra drills to add to my training regimen. Because apparently I’m getting slower? Whatever. I told him to fuck off, but like that’s ever worked before,” Neil concludes. Andrew makes a vague sound of agreement, but since they’re on the phone, Neil has a hard time judging just how uninterested Andrew really is.

“Anyway,” Neil says, “I met up with Travis after practice to work on plays. He actually knows his shit, you know? He has this idea to keep Wilson back so that Singh can have better control of the line, and it’s genius. Singh is obviously superior when it comes to—”

“Travis?” Andrew interrupts him, suddenly sounding a good bit more attentive.

“Yeah, Travis Patterson. The one from the University of Texas?” Neil waits for some kind of acknowledgement but continues anyway when he gets none. “He’s easily our best backliner, aggressive as hell but knows where to draw the line. And he’s smart too, like he actually thinks before he makes a move. Which is rare.” Neil rolls his eyes at the general state of talent in the Professional Exy League, even though Andrew can’t see him. If he could, he would probably just glare and call Neil a junkie, so maybe it’s for the best. “I think we’re meeting up again on Thursday to go over specifics, make sure everything will really click before I try to implement the switch at practice,” Neil says, almost to himself. He gets up from the couch and makes his way into his bedroom, opening the top drawer on his nightstand and reaching for the stack of orange sticky notes in the back corner. He jots down “Travis - Thursday @ 7:00” and heads to the kitchen to press it to the refrigerator until it holds.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Andrew asks out of nowhere.

“I have a home game on Saturday afternoon, and then that charity event thing on Sunday…” Neil says, and it almost comes out as a question. Andrew knows this already. His team is off this weekend, but Neil’s schedule is so booked that they agreed it wasn’t worth the five hour plane ride.

“I’m coming. I can be there Saturday morning. 9:35,” Andrew states.

“Uh,” Neil blanks a bit out of shock but decides not to question it. Like he would ever complain. “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, disinterested tone back in full force.

“Hey, are you—” Neil begins, but Andrew has already hung up.

It isn’t abnormal for them to hang up without a proper goodbye, but there is usually at least a bit more ceremony to it. Neil shrugs to himself, chalking it up to Andrew being Andrew.

Andrew fucking hates flying.

This is news to no one. So this spontaneous five hour flight with only two days of mental preparation may seem ill-advised. And it is. Andrew knows that it is. But he hits “confirm” to book it anyway, cursing himself every step of the way. But he could only listen to Neil go on and on about Travis for so long before he cracked.

Andrew knows exactly who Travis is. Travis William Patterson, 27 years old, 6’3” backliner from middle of nowhere, Texas, current starter for the Boston Hurricanes, #9. As a matter of fact, Andrew is looking at him right now. ESPN is showing Exy highlights from last weekend, and Neil’s team just happens to be up at this very moment.

The Neil on screen has just performed some ridiculous move that absolutely should not have ended with a goal but somehow did, and he is immediately met with high-fives from his teammates and an affectionate-looking hug from Travis. Andrew can most certainly be objective, and this exchange looks pretty platonic. But Andrew is also a man attracted to men, and he has to admit that Travis is good looking. Really good looking. He’s got that whole good ol’ boy, yes ma’am/no sir, homegrown Southern cowboy appeal. If you’re into that. Which Andrew definitely isn’t, and he doesn’t think Neil is either.

Andrew knows that Neil isn’t the cheating type, but that doesn’t stop Andrew from feeling just a little possessive over him. He and Neil have been together for eight years now, so Andrew probably has nothing to worry about. And yet here he is, watching several hundred dollars drain from his bank account thanks to this impromptu flight.

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anonymous asked:

Viktor is a barista at a coffee shop near where Yuuri works. Yuuri stops in each morning and they obviously notice each other -- there are jokes about spelling Yuuri's name wrong etc. But one morning Yuuri walks up to order and Viktor already knows his standard order and that makes Yuuri super anxious because he doesn't like people remembering him since it feels like a lot of attention so he stops going to the coffee shop in the morning... take it away :D

Yuri or Yuuri?

length: 1.6k; rating: all ages;

“So the barista is…”

Attractive, Yuuri’s mind finishes automatically. The barista is off-putting in simultaneously the best and worst possible ways. He’s off-putting in the best way because he’s gorgeous, silver-haired and blue-eyed and everything that Yuuri’s wildest dreams couldn’t even come up with. But he’s also off-putting in the worst way because the barista’s aforementioned attractiveness makes Yuuri’s words come out in awkward, pieced-together chunks that make him appear to be an idiot.

“…nice,” Phichit finishes his phrase, smiling knowingly at Yuuri.

“He’s nice,” Yuuri agrees, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. He takes another sip of his drink.

Phichit takes the cup out of his hand, and Yuuri tries to grab it back, but his friend is squinting at the name written on it. Yuri. “He spells your name wrong.”

“Plenty of people do.”

“There’s no line right now. Why don’t I go correct him?”

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Just Between Us (Jungkook angst/fluff)

Request: “You and Jungkook are secretly dating and there’s a scandal telling that he’s hiding his relationship" - from mymisstina

Originally posted by jung-koook

Word count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst/fluff

You pulled back the curtain and peered out, squinting against the sunlight. Your neighbor was taking out the trash and a woman was jogging past. You scanned the street for anything suspicious, then pulled the curtain closed.

“Can we just have the curtains open, please,” your dad called from the couch, not turning away from the TV.

“No,” you said. “Not yet.”

“What are you expecting to see, exactly?” your mom asked. You turned and watched her fold laundry on the dining table.

“I don’t know,” you said. “People taking pictures of the house. People throwing eggs.”

She laughed.

“Honey, no one’s looking for you.”

You opened the curtain again and looked around. You knew that she was right, and you weren’t sure why you were struggling to relax. They couldn’t exactly track you down based on a dumb cutesy nickname. But you were worried that your anonymity might make the whole thing more intriguing. They didn’t know who you were, so finding your identity might seem like a challenge to some of them.

You glanced down at your phone, wishing that Jungkook would hurry up with his rehearsal and text you. He always knew how to sooth your anxiety. Even when the pictures came out, he knew exactly what to say.

It was two days earlier. You were in his dorm, on a date. Your dates were almost always confined to either his place or yours, as going out together would cause too much of a stir. He had left the room to take a call, and reentered looking worried.

“What?” you asked.

“Don’t be mad,” he said. He sat close beside you and held your hand. “I did something dumb.”

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Diabolik Lovers Tweets (170303)

It’s Girl’s day~ Kou started a chain of tweets….along the way the Sakamaki brothers started blackmailing each other aaaaand we ended with Kino (/)u(\)

(Translation under the cut - Do not use/repost)

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Muse - “Crazy Hypotheticals”

oh my god!!!!!!!!!!!! an update!!!!!!! finally!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i’m so sorry this took forever it’s almost 5am as i’m writing this and i love u and i really hope u like it because if you don’t or do, pls let me know bc my heart grows when you do and if u hate it i still wanna hear from ya bc i love a good roast !!!!
also: i hit 200 followers and i know it may not seem like much to some of you but i’m so new here and your support as been OVERWHELMING i absolutely adore all of you thank you thank you thank you thank you
this !! is !! 4 !! u !! og bitches !!!!


summary: *to the tune of ‘what’s this’ from a nightmare b4 christmas* first date? first date!! there’s magic in the air! first date, firs- wait!!!! Karen, what should i wear!!!!!!!!!!
word count: 5600+ lmao kill me 
warnings: swearing !! as per usual i’m sorry yall i cannot help myself - also drinking, bad dancing, some terrible spanglish!!! lots of stuttering !!!! terribly formatted texting + facetime, lots of dopey smiles + way too many commas

part one / part two / part three 


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anonymous asked:

Can I have a scenario where tendo has an s/o who's friends don't really understand why she likes him and he over hears them asking her why his s/o is even dating him in the first place and she starts to list the multitude of reasons she has for liking Tendo and at the end she's like "and that's why I love him" but this is the first time she's ever admitted it out loud? Idk how it would end but I guess you could end it however you want, my only request is that u make it really fluffy? Thanks ILY!

He knew her friends didn’t like him.

He could see it in their eyes when they first met. Frowns were casted upon their faces and out of the corner of his eye he saw them mouth, ‘why him?’ At the time he just ignored it, he knew the way girls were. His older sister had always complained that guys in her class were good-for-nothing, backstabbing, sonuvabitches who, to quote her directly, “were an abomination to female kind.” Girls were supposed to despise guys at first sight, weren’t they? He was honest they would call him a ‘fuckboy’ or ‘douche bag’ or whatever else behind his back once he walked away. He was sure it was just their natural instinct to protect their friend. He was sure they would get used to him eventually. Although, he soon learned to never trust his instincts.

He should’ve known after four months of them dating, their petty little hate parade on him wasn’t just a feeble attempt to protect their friend. It was elementary school all over again when he heard, ‘monster’ slip past gloss caked lips for the first time. Half of him wanted to die, right then, right there, because the people that meant most to the person that meant most to him, loathed him. He knew he shouldn’t let them bother him, because his girlfriend would always assure them they were just being ‘girls’. Although, after the fifteenth time one of them had passed by him and coughed, ‘freakshow’ under her breath, he knew they weren’t just being girls. They were being bullies, and it seemed like such a childish thing to say. They were tormenting him to break up with her, and god knows what they say to her, but in that moment, Tendou knew somebody was out to get him.

His obsession with finding out the truth came crawling up on him one month later. The mocking never ceased to end, and with all his power did he try to suppress the pettiness they produced. She had started growing a bit more distant, he noticed. Late night conversations were cut short by nine o’clock, greetings in the hallway were becoming shorter and shorter, soon they were just small waves in his general direction before she was pulled away by a menacing hand. He didn’t want their relationship to end, not like this at least. He wished she would just stand up for herself, or something, but she never did. Unless someone did something, anything, their relationship was going to be an endless cycle of ‘dump him’ and ‘stay with me’ until all came down in shambles.

It was the Friday night before mocks week, and Tendou knew he had a million and one things he should be doing. Although, like an idiot, he found himself wandering around campus at eight o’clock at night, doing nothing in particular except letting the steady raindrops fall onto his now matted hair. The entirety of this scenario was miserable, hell, he probably looked like an Andy Biersack stan to anyone who dare caught him wandering around like this. The rain started pouring down harder, claps of thunder and lightning illuminating the sky. His shoes began to get sloshy and drops of rain began to fall into his eyes, and he began to thank whatever god he prayed to for the library just twenty feet away from him. With a slightly awkward jog he darted into the facility, the old woman behind the front desk giving him a curt nod upon his arrival, muttering something about closing in an hour, but he didn’t really care. He didn’t find himself in the library much, not since volleyball practices became more and more extensive. Although, he remembered there was a nice pod up on the second floor, a reading corner, as it was called, with bean bag chairs and fairy lights and he was sure he would destroy the place with his soaking wet being, but nothing was stopping his from going up there anyways. The old lady could kiss his ass if she told him otherwise. Although, all his plans had backfired the moment he stepped foot on the top floor, catching a glimpse of an all too familiar, acrylic nailed hand, and the chime of a giggle he loved so much. His heart was in his throat, then, as he darted behind a bookshelf barrier. Curiously, carefully, he peeked out, only to find his girlfriend, and the entirety of her friend group, huddled around in a circle. He wasn’t sure if it was sweat dripping down his forehead, or rain, but he knew he was nervous, and really had no clue why. He could abolish each and every one of them if he wanted to, in every way, shape and form they were weaker than him, but even then, he was nervous, and he had no idea how to escape his refuge from behind the bookshelf.

Twenty minutes past and he sufficed to sitting down, carefully pulling a book out from the wall up behind him and skimming through its pages. He was in no way interested, just passing the time as the girls conversation droned on, the occasional mentioning of a boys name or a giggle catching his interest, though. Although, it wasn’t until he heard his name being choked out with such malice did he put the book down, all attention gravitating towards the conversation happening behind him.
“I still don’t get why you’re with Tendou.” Came the remark, quick and fast and out of nowhere. “If you could have anyone on that team besides Tendou, who would you go for?”
There was an elongated pause, the only noise to be heard was the rapid beating of his heart.
“I’d still go for Tendou.” His girlfriend sighed. “I’d find a way to get him.”
“You wouldn’t go for Ushijima-kun?”
“What about that Semi guy? I hear his casual attire is atrocious, though.”
Comments kept spilling out everywhere, but Tendou couldn’t quite catch them all. He had to suppress a giddy giggle upon the words she had said. He knew it was pathetic of him to get so excited over such a thing, but after a month of doubt, to hear that he was still wanted was just music to his ears.
“I really don’t get what you see in him, still.” Came a sigh, and the clatter of something being set down.
“What isn’t there to get?”
“I mean, doesn’t he just seem… standoffish? You’ve seen him play, we’ve all seen him play, he’s a freak. He doesn’t get along with anyone except Ushijima-Kun, who I’m sure is just tolerating him for his reputation…”
The insults just kept pouring on, and on, and on, until Tendou could feel himself on the verge of tears. The last thing he needed on this godforsaken night was his insecurities to be dug up and laid out in front of him after three years of digging a hole and laying them down six feet under. The last thing he needed was for his girlfriend, the one person he trusted above all else, to just sit there and take it, embarrass him while they just kept talking.
“Are you done yet?” Came a sudden peep, through the ruckus of calamity. All went quiet and a throat was cleared, and Tendou physically braced himself for what was to come.
“What you said isn’t false, Satori is the weirdest guy in the school, or whatever.” She began, and Tendou could feel his heart drop from its former place in his throat. “Although, have you ever stopped to consider maybe that’s why I like him? Maybe I’m sick and tired of the status quo, tired of a photocopied generation with limited options to choose from. He’s different, and I love that, and if that makes him a freak, so be it.”
There was another elongated pause, Tendou, his girlfriend, all the girls in the circle, and even the old lady sitting at the front desk downstairs, were dead silent.
“I’m done with you guys bashing on my boyfriend like this. Every single time I see him you have to say something. Why do you always have to be so negative? Can your sad little pea brains even articulate that he makes me happy? That ‘freak show’ has been a better friend to me than all of you since the day I met him, and if you’re just going to sit around and disrespect him all the goddamn time, I’m not going to sit here and respect you.”
There were whines, protests, feeble attempts at apologising, but Tendou didn’t hear them. There were tears dripping from his eyes and he didn’t even attempt at wiping them away. There was shuffling, the dramatic zipping of a bag, and aggravated footsteps. She barked something t him again, and he wasn’t sure if the pounding he heard was his heart beat or her footsteps getting closer. Suddenly, she stormed through the set of bookshelves he cowered behind, and she didn’t even notice him. She didn’t notice him until he swung out an arm and grabbed her ankle, causing her to jerk backwards and gasp.
“Satori?” She whispered, her voice nearly broken. He stood up from him place on the floor and smiled, her worried expression something he didn’t like to see. Her face was red and fuming, eyebrows scrunched up in a concerned manner.
“You’ve been crying.” She muttered, her fingers quick to wipe his cheeks. Tendou just kept smiling, his eyes desperate to meet hers. “How long have you been here for?”
Without saying anything, he kissed her, his hands desperate in her hair and his mouth, voracious. She let a giggle slip in between them, and boldly shuffled out of the protection of the bookshelves. A chorus of gasps erupted, and Tendou couldn’t help but feel like he was in some cheesy, American high school rom-com. Confidently, he flicked the group of girls off, beginning to kiss his her in a way that was far too lewd to even be considered kissing. He didn’t care, though, because she seemed just as into it, tongue and teeth and all, tugging at his damp hair and lower lip. Suddenly, she broke the kiss, grabbed his hand, and darted towards the exit of the library, laughing the entire way.
“I love you, Satori.” She announced, once they were dancing in the open rain. “More than I can articulate out loud.”

He knew her friends didn’t like him, but all that mattered was that she did.

The Joker x Reader - “Auntie D”

All villains get paired up by the Dark Shadows World - “Match Made in Hell (MMIH)” Division. It’s always such a challenge to find a suitable match for The Joker. Good thing you’re still around.

“What about her?” one of the entities points out and the others attending the meeting are fast to disagree.

“No way, he’ll kill her in a week!”

“She’s not strong enough to keep up with him!” another one vociferates.

“He’ll eat her for breakfast and burry the leftovers,” the leader concludes and the contendent is dismissed.

“Oh, what about that one?” someone points out towards the woman and nobody’s happy with the new choice.

“Are you kidding me?! She’s such a wimp; no way she can handle The Clown Prince of Crime!”

“Wouldn’t last two days,” another committee member complains.

“Bad choice!” more and more object.

“I’m so sick of this, we have the hardest time finding him a girlfriend,” the youngest entity sighs and suddenly you are seen on the board.

“What about Y/N?”

“Didn’t we try before and it didn’t work?” one recalls, intrigued.

“Yeah, but it’s been a while. I always thought they should have stayed together, they can handle each other. How did they break up?”

“Something about him being selfish and her not paying attention to him,” the boss remembers.

“That’s it?! We can fix this, I see she has no match yet either. We’re running out of options so I think we should make it happen again and go with the flow. No better choice. Y/N is in the same building with The Joker as we speak and we’ll have to force things a bit but it could work. All in favor, raise your hands. Oh, right, we don’t have any.”

Just a bunch of shapeless Dark Shadows.

“Yes, yes, might as well, it’s frustrating to keep on meeting about this problem.”

“Agree, I’m sick of it myself. Let’s do it!” the youngest entity impatiently speaks.

“They are so close to one another, we need to act NOW.”

“Proceed,” the leader gives its blessing and…


You and The Joker almost - kind of- sort of –nearly…well … definitely had a thing going about a year ago. You are actually thinking about that at the present moment as you crawl through the vents of “Diamond Emporium” store so you can get to the goodies.

Mister J is there on a heist with his men and you have no clue about each other’s presence…yet.

MMIH Division is taking care of it.

You suddenly hear the cracking sounds under you and before you can move another inch the ceiling gives out and you land right in front of your ex, almost killing Panda in the process.

“I’ll be damned, Frost, a fallen angel ! Is it Christmas already?” J grins, instantly recognizing you. “What are you doing here, Doll?”

You gather yourself from the floor, dusting debris off your clothes, grateful you didn’t break anything.

“Same thing as you, J: making sure the air ducts are clean.”

“Ha!” he snorts, signaling his guys to spread around so they can collect as many items as possible.

“Sir, the seif is over there,” Frost announces and you turn around to look.

“Want me to open it for you?” you offer, this way you can get a few things as payment instead of The Joker getting everything. You know how he operates: too bad he had the same wretched idea of robbing the place in the same time with you.

J debates and decides after a few seconds:

“Are you as fast as you used to be?”

“Faster,” you smile, fixing your hair.

“OK then, go for it,” your former boyfriend pouts, watching you head over the seif. A very sparkly necklace gets your attention so you break the small glass case and get it out, tossing it to the ground after analyzing it.

“Too shiny,” you answer J’s soundless question when he looks your way with an intrigued expression on his face.

“Too shiny?!” he repeats. “Since when a woman complains about diamonds being too shiny?! Never heard of it before,” he grinds his teeth, puzzled.

You just lift your shoulders up, you don’t need to explain your taste in sparkly stones – he should know that by now.

Jonny is waiting by the seif and you just have to say it:

“My, my, Frost, you always look so sharp in your perfect tailored suits. I love men that dress fancy for every occasion.”

Frost straightens his back, pleased at your compliment:

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Oh, please, don’t let me interrupt your flirting,” The Joker shouts. “Can we finish this faster? We need to move out !”

Ahhhh, he’s getting annoyed, one of his “qualities” you like so much.

You start your work and J is messing around with his cane. He doesn’t want to bring it up but when does he ever know how to control himself?

“What’s wrong with my outfit, hmm?”

“Huh?” you stop what you’re doing so you can hear him.

“What’s wrong with my outfit? Since …ummm…apparently you like guys in suits. I wasn’t aware.”

You stare at his attire: no shirt -  just the purple coat, Batsy shorts and boots. About 4 heavy gold chains around his neck, a handful of bracelets on his wrists and a bunch of rings on his fingers.

“Nothing, it looks…good,” you smirk, getting back to your stuff and…done.
“My God, you are faster!” The Joker exclaims, forgetting he was irritated about your earlier statement.

“I just want a few things; you know me: I’m not greedy.”

“Go ahead,” he agrees as you open the seif.

“I want this one…and this one…” you pick what strikes your fancy, excited at the excellent quality.

“What is this?” he frowns, pulling out a chocolate bar from a small drawer inside the seif.

“Weird, why would you keep chocolate with diamonds?” you inquire, surprised.

“Maybe one of those sentimental souvenirs for someone working here?” J tries to guess, disgusted at the thought.

“How dumb, you think so?”

“Maybe,” he glares at the bar, scoffing.

“Is it expired?” you bite your cheek, in mood for sweets.

“Nope, still good.”

“Can I have it?” you reach your hand and he gives it to you.

“Suit yourself, Doll.”

“I think that’s all I want. I’m done,” and you rip the plastic foil, beginning to munch on the chocolate.

The Joker’s henchmen stashed a lot of diamonds in bags and you linger around for a bit.

“I heard you have a kid,” J sniffles, puckering his lips.

“Yes, I’m taking care of my niece. My sister died last year, shortly after we…e-hem…went our separate ways,” you bring him up to date since he’s gazing at you with those hypnotizing blue eyes, expecting a briefing.

“She died?” he replies, not really giving a crap and you are aware of it.

“Car accident,” you mumble and your eyes get teary, saddened at the memory.

“That sucks.”

That’s the best he can say for “I’m Sorry” in Joker language. Thank goodness you speak that language.

“It does…” you whimper, trying to keep it together.

“We finished, sir!” Frost announces and you are glad for the interruption.

“I’m going then,” you back out, holding tight to your backpack.

“I might need you again, Y/N. Your skills have improved even more. I have a heist in 2 days, 3 seifs inside Gotham Bank. Interested?”

“Yes, of course,” you mumble, wanting to hurry up and run before the cops show up.

“Want me to pick you up?” J offers.

“Sure, I’ll text you the address.”

“You don’t have my new phone number,” he yells before you disappear behind the stairs.

“I’m an excellent hacker, I’ll figure it out!” you scream back before sneaking through the gap in the wall J’s henchmen opened for themselves to get in.


You managed to get J’s phone number and text him your address ; it was a piece of cake. Yummm, cake…you love sweets. Anyway…

He came to pick you up for the robbery, wearing… a suit. Dark green. Looks ravishing on him, not that you pay attention to such details.

You are going to take a shower and get ready. In the meantime, he’s left alone in the living room with Mikah, your niece.

She’s 7, going on 40.

MMIH Division’s strongest ally and she’s not even aware.

“I know who you are, I saw you on TV,” the girl inspects J, curious to hear him speak.

“Did you now?”

“Yes, plus Auntie D has pictures of you on her cell.”
“You don’t say!” J grins, suddenly more interested in the conversation.

“Are you a bad man, mister?” Mikah wants to know right from the source.

“Yeah,” the short answer confirms it.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“NO!” J growls, hoping you’re coming back soon.

“My aunt says she has the biggest crush on you,” the kid reports, not understanding why.

“Does she now?”

“U-hum, she talks about you quite a lot.” The little girl tightens her pony tails. “Hey, mister, are you single?”

“Supposedly,” he rolls his eyes, wishing she would shut up.

“Auntie D too. You should take her on a date.”

This feels like an interrogation: The Joker is the one that likes to ask questions, not the other way around.

Mikah just ignores his earlier reply and places herself in his lap. J doesn’t know how to react. She touches his face and he tils his head backwards because surely doesn’t like to be touched by strangers.

“Are you shy?” she bounces her legs, giggling.

“No, kid, I’m not.”

“Why do you have tattoos on your face?”

“Because I wanted them there, that’s why.”

“Auntie D says you are very handsome. I guess you are…in a strange way. Why do you look different? Auntie says we shouldn’t judge people for being different.”

Why can’t she quit talking?! J thinks. Is there a turn off button somewhere?

“Do you dye your hair?” she caresses the green locks, smitten with the wild color.

“No, it grows like this.”

“I think that’s cool. What happened to your teeth? Why are they silver?”

“Do you ever shut up?!” your ex snaps, fed up with the questionnaire.

“No, only when I sleep, ” your niece innocently blurs out. Mikah notices the numerous tattoos under the almost unbutton shirt. “Untie D loves guys with tattoos. She told me once you are a stud and then she covered my ears, but I heard it. I asked what it means because you don’t look like a horse in pictures. Auntie said to forget about it, it’s not for children.”

J snorts, finally amused.

“Did Y/N say that?”

“U-hum,” she nods. “Why do you have a cane? It doesn’t look like you’re limping.”

“So I can spank people that don’t behave,” J winks, entertained.

“Are you gonna spank Auntie D with it?!”
“Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!” he laughs. “Maybe, if she doesn’t behave.”

Interesting kid, he never had a dialogue with one before.

“Do you have children mister?”


“Why not?”

The Joker lifts his shoulders up, not replying. Mikah continues her tirade:

“Auntie D says you’re the Daddy type. So how come you don’t have any kids yet?”

J is getting quite immersed in this crazy spiral consisting of the little girl spitting out things he shouldn’t know about.

“You should have a baby with Auntie D, I would loveeee a sibling,” she continues yammering and J wants to cover her mouth.

He finally has to seek for an answer to the burning question:

“Why do you call her Auntie D? Her name doesn’t start with a D.”

Mikah places her index finger on her lips, getting secretive.

“It’s girl stuff, I can’t tell you if you’re not part of the girl club.”

“I can be,” The Joker grins, hoping to trick Mikah into telling him.

“You’re a boy, can’t be part of our club.”

“Ohhh, that’s too bad, little Doll. But if you tell me, I’ll take your aunt on a date.”

She gasps.

“Oh my God, for reals?!”
“A-ha,” The Clown Prince of Crime is fast to utter.

“You promise?”


She gets close to his ear, whispering:
“My auntie’s bra size is a D-cup, that’s why I call her Auntie D.”

The Joker doesn’t remember hearing anything funnier than this for the past few months. He snickers, closing his eyes and Mikah giggles, happy the bad man is laughing at something she said.

“I’m ready,” you finally step in the living room, gathering your wet hair in a messy bun. You are intrigued seeing your little niece in J’s lap, both laughing, accomplices on a secret for sure; you can tell.

Before you can express your curiosity regarding the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, J gets up, leaving the kid on the chair he sat and cracks his neck, approaching.

“Change of plans, Princess, we’re going on a date. Go put something nice on.”

“We’re going on a what?!” you crinkle your nose, watching Mikah’s mouth opening in amazement - she seems delighted.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all night,” he pushes you back towards the bedroom.

“I don’t want to go on a date with you,” you protest, displeased and baffled.

“Shut up, woman, don’t talk back to me! Be grateful you have the honor of having a date with The King of Gotham,” he snarls, shoving you in the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “And hurry up…Auntie D!!!!” and you hear him laugh as he distances himself from the door.

What the hell is going on? You debate, perplexed about tonight’s twist, digging in your closet for a dress. But you have to admit you don’t really hate the present situation. After all, you still have the biggest crush on your ex, too bad he doesn’t know.


Match Made in Hell Division is absolutely, utterly and indisputably more than happy to close two difficult cases in the same time: The Joker and Y/N aka Auntie D.

You took enough of their precious time, even if they have an eternity to their disposal.

Plus, J is the first male villain to be part of a girls’ club, another legendary skill he will forever be praised for in The Shadow World.

It all started with a bra size.



All members raji 3/24 (two mails)

Ruki (reading mail): “Ruki-san, Uruha-san, Aoi-san, Reita-san, Kai-san, good evening. I listen to the radio every week. This isn’t related to the theme –” They’re never related to the theme!!

Reita: Ye pretty much

(Kai giggling or some shit)

Ruki: “I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

Aoi: Hm.

Uruha: Awwww!

Ruki: “I know it’s probably not good to compare him with other people I’ve dated, but he really made me happier than I’ve ever felt before. I just can’t accept it, so I’m going to become a better woman and get him back. That’s all.”

Reita: Oh, so she was dumped?

Kai: Wait, that’s all? (giggling)

Ruki: It says “that’s all.”

Reita: Huh?

Kai: That’s all?

Ruki: Huh? – Oh, uh, “I have a question for you,”

Reita: (giggling) Okay…

Kai: Mhhuhu

Ruki: “What is your idea of a ‘good woman?’ I’m curious because I feel like men and women would have different answers……uhhh…..I’m really looking forward to Gudon no Sakura.”


Kai: Okay.

Ruki: You know even thought I read it I didn’t get any of that


Reita: That’s cause you’re bad at reading!

Ruki: What was it…

Uruha: What’s a good woman?

Kai: What’s a good woman?

(everyone is talking and then Aoi says something that makes everyone laugh but I didn’t get it :c)

Ruki (whining): But we’ve talked about girls so many times alreadyyyyy…

Uruha: We get asked every week!

Reita: It’s fiiiine!!

(everyone starts talking and laughing again)

Reita: We have to speak one by one!

Aoi: Do we have to start raising our hands?

Reita and Kai: No no it’s fine its fine (laughing)

Reita: We’ll do it with our faces

Kai: Yeah, ur face like “K IM GOING NOW”

Reita: Yep! Okay, so please answer one by one!

Uruha: But isn’t a good woman, you know, someone who doesn’t ask this kinda stuff?

Reita: Well said.

(Kai doing the Kai Laugh)

Reita: K NEXT

Kai: “What makes a good woman…”

(everyone laughing)

Aoi: But who’s going next!?

(everyone laughing)


Uruha: (laughing) “I’m going”

Aoi: I think you’re wonderful just the way you are~

Reita: I see.

Aoi: Thank yoooooou~

Reita: That’s not the kind of answer she wants fam

(everyone laughing)

Reita: Hai, Reita desu~ Well, like Uruha-kun said, I don’t think that’s something you should ask so blatantly. Just leave the guy alone.

Kai: Like, that’s a sign of a good woman?

Reita: Make him swim. Make him swim until he’s about to drown. Then once he’s about to drown, go help him.

Kai: AhhHHH

Uruha: AhhHHH

Reita: That’s it.

Kai: Ahhhh I see

Reita: Yes.

Kai: So, what about Ruki-kun?



Ruki: ……….. –Yep! Uhh, “Good evening, everyone~”

(everyone laughing)

Aoi: Good evening~

Ruki: “This happened to me recently at work” (HE SKIPPED THE QUESTION LMFAOOO) “But I’m not sure if you would call this a Dark Side Story, so please evaluate it!”

Everyone: Okay.

Ruki: It’s Dark Side Mail, I see. “At work, my superior was saying stuff like ‘I lost weight recently! Even though I was already thin…’ I smiled and said, ‘yeah, you were always thin!’ and then she smiled too and was laughing, so I thought she was happy. But then later that day my coworker was like, ‘hey, did you do something to [the superior]?’ and I’m like, ‘uh, no??’ and then my coworker showed me texts between the two of them, and the superior was saying stuff like ‘[the gazefan] said something rude to me today’, ‘i think she’s trying to start a fight with me,’ ‘she was laughing at me isn’t that awful?’ I was like, what!? Since that day I’ve decided not to make any more casual comments to my superior anymore.”


Ruki: “I’m sorry this was so long.”

(everyone bursts out laughing)

Kai: That’s it!?

Reita: That’s your fault! You’re so bad at reading!! [Ruck probably left a bunch of shit out lol]

Uruha: Wow, what a shitty person

Ruki and Aoi: Hmmmmm, yeh

Kai: Wait, who? The superior?

Ruki and Uruha: Yeah the superior


Kai: …Wait why? What?

Uruha: What do you mean what?

Ruki: Hm. 

Reita: Well she was thin, and you know some people have a complex about being thin, right?

Uruha: What!? Oh really….

Reita: Yeah I’m pretty sure.

Kai: Oh so that’s it?

Uruha: So what, she wanted to be told she was a little chubby?

Reita: Or that she just didn’t think she was that thin so when someone told her she was thin it actually felt like they were teasing her – yeah idk shit about women.

(Kai laughing)

Uruha: Women……

Kai: Maybe she was thinking that the other girl [the fan who wrote in] was thinner?

Reita: Oh I get it! So being told she was thin by someone even thinner than her…

Kai: Right, right, like it felt like maybe she was being made fun of

Uruha: Ahhh….

Ruki: I see…

Aoi: Then you can’t really talk to her can you?

Kai (laughing): Yeah, for sure!

Reita: Yeah, you can’t~

Aoi: I feel like that too. With the Gazemen

Reita and Kai: Hehe, what? h-huh? ur jokin…

Aoi: I just

Uruha: But you know

Aoi: I just love u guys……

Uruha: But do you really have to tell them [that you’re mad]?

Kai: No but she didn’t, she heard it from another friend. Like, this girl said this about you.

Ruki: Ahhh…

Kai: Yeah I don’t think she told her herself.

Aoi: Hmmmm….

(Everyone goes ah yes hmmmmm for like 5 seconds or so)

Ruki: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……………….

Reita: u ok?

(everyone gigglin)

Ruki: I’m just wondering what they want from us sending this mail. Like they’re not even like, what do you think – well whatever, her superior did that.

Kai: Do you want to read Abe-chan now? (laughs)

Ruki: Huhu, how many times have we read Abe-chan now?

Reita: We’ve read a lot.

Ruki: That much, huh! Then we don’t have to read Abe-chan, do we? It’s always the same thing.

(Everyone laughing)

(Ruki reads Abe-chan anyway tbc)

anonymous asked:

Ooooo I love your writing! How about 12 for rebelcaptain?

A kiss that shouldn’t have happened 

Jyn was going to get them all killed, and it was all because of her inability to walk away from a challenge.

Exactly how much has she had?” Bodhi’s anxious voice chimed in down the comm unit in his ear.

“Enough that I lost count,” Cassian had to admit.

Daxton is at least a hundred pounds heavier than her, she has to have some kind of plan here, right?

“I don’t know, she’s still on her feet,” Cassian tried not to sound too impressed. Anything Jyn Erso did these days made him sound like that and he didn’t need Bodhi getting any more ammunition than he already had. Across the cantina, Jyn was incredibly still keeping up with their mark. A crowd had started gathering somewhere around drink number five and K-2SO had made it more than clear even before drink number one that he thought their original plan of just knocking Daxton out would suffice. 

(Unfortunately, anyone who tried to get Jyn Erso to simply walk away from anything was likely to get decked, and K-2 had apparently rather liked having all his parts inside him). 

It wasn’t until she accidentally missed the edge of the table when Cassian finally felt it was safe to step in. Daxton looked fairly out of it himself anyway. Jyn hit the floor of the cantina accompanied by a collective groan from the crowd. Everyone had wanted to see this barely 100 pound woman drink a high ranking Imperial officer under a table. “That’s it – out of the way!” Cassian shoved his way forward.

“No, no, Cassian – stop, put me down –” Jyn whined.

He ignored her completely as he reached down and practically hauled her into his arms. “C’mon, mate, at least let us buy her a drink for effort!” one of the cantina’s patrons tried.

Cassiaaaaan,” Jyn pleaded.

“You have had enough. Sorry, she’s out,” Cassian answered gruffly. He had to practically drag Jyn out of the cantina and didn’t let her go, even to mutter into the comms unit, “Daxton is down, operation can go ahead–”

“Did I win?” Jyn suddenly asked next to him.

They stumbled out of the front doors and into the dark street. There wasn’t much to accompany them except for the smell of several other regretful nights in the gutter and a bored looking bouncer. Honestly, Cassian had no idea how they’d ended up here. Jyn was a woman who rarely let go like this. Trying to hold her was often like trying to hold together a tightly coiled spring. However the Jyn with him right now felt … warm. At ease. Or maybe that was her sowly slinking down his side to the ground. He hastily bent and heaved her back upright, bringing her wrists up around his neck. “Hold on,” he murmured and she did as he quickly coordinated with Bodhi down the other end of the comms.

“I think I won,” Jyn had apparently decided for herself who had drunk whom under a table.

“I am surprised you’re still conscious, honestly.”

“Tell Bodhi I won!”

Cassian sighed and added reluctantly, “Bodhi, she wants you to know she won.”

I’ll take her word for it,” he heard the pilot chuckle.

“C’mon,” Cassian tugged at her waist again, determined to get this woman lying down. However, Jyn didn’t move. She was still clinging to his neck but was looking at him now in that way he only ever caught out of the corner of his eye. It was the look he sometimes got across the mess hall in the mornings, or whenever they were reunited again after separate missions. She would look at him like that and he would look at her, but nothing ever happened and she was drunk, she wasn’t doing this now

But evidently, she was. Before he could say anything, her mouth was suddenly pressed against his. It was hot and dizzying, clumsy and awkward, and quite possibly the worst timing they could have ever come up with. The temptation to throw every caution to the wind and just wind his arms even tighter around her was almost frightening, but he held it together. Not like this. “Jyn,” he whispered against her. “Jyn.”


Stop, you need to stop.”

Jyn didn’t often take no for an answer, but her lips suddenly stilled against his at that. For a long moment, neither moved. Cassian didn’t know when his eyes had shut, but they had and now he couldn’t quite bring himself to open them again. Force forbid what he might see in her face. He didn’t dare loosen his grip for fear that she may fall, but then she moved. In fact, she was suddenly jerking away and doubling over, retching. All he could do was hold her as she threw up into the street.

“I’m … I’m sorry …” she eventually gasped.

Cassian just shook his head. “We’ll get it right next time.”

He tried not to smile too much as he dragged her back to their transport. 

(kiss meme

so i wrote my reply to that thing while laying in bed the other night, jsyk. im now on my computer so here comes the chatter about SIGYN and Angrboda and mothers and wives and first wives and second wives and everything in between.

things to consider:

1. the pure LACK of solid, 1000 percent “this is exactly how they said these figures were” evidence for either goddess.
2. the small amount of what we know being told through various translations by various people with various biases and cultural norms that might be reflected in their work (the big one: snorri mcchristian u dig?)
3. that a lot of what i am about to say is wholly MY UPG but it is based on my belief that gods are bigger than the boxes we put them in.

So the person either changed their post or deactivated but they wrote:

“ I would rather be like Angerboda than Sigyn.  I want passion, and justice, and emotion to keep me with my love.  Not duty.  Mistresses are remembered by history, not the wives. “

which, ok, feel free to totally dig a few things: not being married! having passion and justice and emotion!

feel free to NOT dig these things: the really grossly misogynistic idea that a woman who’s (limited and not fully fleshed out/discovered) story revolves around the act of physically kneeling forever at her husband’s side to protect him from dripping venom… is in fact ALL ABOUT HIM and has nothing more to do with anything else at all. like way to put sigyn in the smallest fucking box possible my dude.

let’s have some fun thinking about the mindset of sigyn falling to her knees.

firstly, sigyn herself is hardly spoken of heavily enough to say for sure what she is the goddess OF besides being a LOYAL wife because she sticks with loki through his torture, DESPITE him being the root cause of their own children’s death. the assumption here is an easy one to make, sure. most people would at first glance say “wow, this woman is devoted to her husband.”

except she’s not listed in kennings about loki in ways that would make you think she’s happy with him about this. he is called the BURDEN of her arms, and simply “husband of sigyn” and “galdr’s hapt”. the last bit, i’ll be HONEST AS FUCK… the theories about this i can find are still people’s upg for the most part. but sure, let’s say this assumes sigyn has some magical power related to binding or warding.. this further opens up a lot of ideas about her that are easily tied to loki only OR….

you might think of something BIGGER than that tiny box of a story.

if sigyn is a magician she is more than likely, as with most female magicians, using a form of magic that connects heavily with being a seer. a wild god like loki married to someone calm, collected, and consistently the weight on his chain is a pretty obvious trope to go for here. it’s what most people would want to assume but what if sigyn wasn’t these things?

what if she was just as wild? just as OTHER? a volva who traveled as much as volva were known to do? someone who, like other goddesses with the gift of seidr (whether taught to her or learned by nurture/nature if she was a fertility vanir), knew of ragnarok?

and knew that one day her sons would die.

and one day her husband would lead the final battle against the gods.

and one day everything would END.

what would YOU do if you were this woman? bend a knee to protect your husband? or are you bending a knee to let the cycle play out a little longer because you also know the more the venom drips the more loki shakes the quicker he escapes.

the quicker comes final death and rebirth and you KNOW cycles, you are a woman who has been through them before as all women have before you. you are intimate with the idea of seasons and a time for everything, even death.

so no, i don’t think sigyn is LOYAL and CONSISTENT when it comes to LOKI. I think she loves him and that includes all the chaos in him too but she is loyal to the way things must pass, to how all things must end, to how sometimes a wildfire must purge the brush before a forest can grow healthy and strong once more.

and saying she’s only loki’s wife and that’s just her story just feels narrow minded to me.

not to mention pitting her against boda feels even more gross because if anything, if sigyn IS other then she likely accepts that loki has had his fill of others. i don’t see people putting frigga in the same place against all the lovers odin has ever had, why sigyn against boda?

ALSO, the coolest fucking post i have ever seen from an excellent source on language is this one, talking about the possibilities of sigyn’s name being something BESIDES victory girlfriend. rope joy? ROPE JOY? a goddess who finds she may be filled with sorrow and anguish for having to play the part she does, for having to give up sons for the greater cycle of things, but who loves and embraces the binding nature of these things??????

anyway remember: this is a LOT of UPG but god, how can we really put her into such a small box when there is so much room out there for her mystery to bloom?

edit to add: yes this does mean i’m way irked by every single version of sigyn dreamt of making her soft and kind and full of mercy, as if she does everything she does for a MAN. this doesn’t mean she can’t HAVE those traits but it does mean that as a woman who lost TWO children and went to her knees to “protect” the man who’s fault that was… you gotta be shitting me if you god damn think her love for loki is so pure and perfect that she does that for HIM and not for some cosmic and bigger picture.

so many of you guys claim she is a strong brave goddess and then make her out to be weak in such a way that makes me want to scream. if she is strong it’s because she’s willing to stay there and willing to put off her own possible death and the end of all things, including her grief, for the sake of others… all nine realms worth of people. i love loki and sigyn as a pair as much as the next person but fuck THAT noise right there.

Just friends, Right? pt-1

Originally posted by wendytran07

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, mentions of nightmares

Word count: 1,518

Summary: Bucky and the reader are madly in love but they are both unaware of the other’s feelings

Part2    Part3    Part4

Your POV

          Bucky and you have been best friends ever since you joined the avengers. You were a highly trained assassin and a science whiz. Half your time was spent in the lab and the other half, on the field. Immediately after joining the avengers over 2 years ago, you were drawn to Bucky and he was drawn to you. Soon enough he had opened up to you about all of the horrors that Hydra had put him through and you comforted him and assured him that you would always be there when he needed you.

        Walking the hallways of Stark Tower always helped you relax after a nightmare. Sure, you had them but nothing near as bad as Bucky’s. They still left you staring at your ceiling until the sun peeked through your blinds. Last night was a particularly bad one and all you wanted to do was crawl next to Bucky and have his arm around you like you did for him so often when you heard his screams from across the hall. 

       It didn’t take you long after meeting Bucky to realize that you had feelings for him. You never acted on them because you knew he didn’t feel the same way about you. To him, you were just a friend. He was constantly flirting with other girls, having his one night stands run through the common areas in his clothes, going on dates and sharing all of the details during game night in the tower.

“Hey Y/N” you heard as you turned the corner into the kitchen.

“Hey Buck, why are you up so early?” you asked. The sun had just barely come up and you had been walking around the tower aimlessly for hours.

“Probably the same reason that you are” he smiled at you softly. You nodded in response and frowned at him a little. Your hand found its way onto his shoulder and you rubbed it softly, even the smallest touch between the two of you helping you relax.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was just the usual, nothing new.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to wake you” you said with a frown.

“You worry too much about me. I’m fine, I promise”

Bucky POV

     I was not okay. I had been in love with her ever since I first saw her. She was kind and compassionate. She was everything I’ve ever wanted. When she smiles it seems like everything that haunts my past, disappears for just a moment. She cares about me more than I thought anyone would ever be able to. I just can’t tell her how I feel. I don’t want to risk losing the friendship that we have. Anyway, she is always getting hit on and taken out on dates. I just take home random girls to mask my pain of seeing her with men who aren’t me.
Whenever I bring girls back to the tower Y/N hardly even looks in my direction so she really must not feel anything other than friendly love towards me.

“I’m always going to worry about you Buck, you know that” Y/N said and rested her head on my shoulder.

“Yeah I guess there’s no getting rid of you, huh?” I wrapped my arm around her and she smiled into my chest. I could stay like this forever.

Your POV

“So pancakes or waffles?” you said and slowly pulled away from Bucky.

“Hmm I’m thinking pancakes and maybe some bacon”

“I’m on it” you chuckled and reached up to ruffle his hair. He glared at you playfully as you walked toward the pantry to get all the ingredients you needed for breakfast.

The pancake batter sizzled as it met the pan and you could hear Bucky shuffling behind you as you cooked. Soon enough you heard soft music floating through the kitchen and turned quickly to smile at Bucky. The music was timeless and the piano melody is what you imagined Bucky would listen to as a child. Your hips began to sway back and forth to the beat as you placed the bacon in the skillet.

As the first song ended and the next began Bucky came up behind you and placed his chin on the top of your head. His soft humming vibrated in your stomach and chest. Gosh, everything this man did made you fall farther in love with him. He had no idea what he did to you. You flipped over the bacon with your right hand and Bucky took your left in his.

He spun you around to face him and his metal hand sat gently on your hip while his right grasped your hand. Buck led you around the room in slow circles and gazed just above your eyes the whole time; never meeting them. The next song started and it was a tune that you recognized. You hummed along just as Bucky was a few minutes ago. Bucky’s eyes met yours and he grinned. He rested his chin on top of your head once again and hummed with you.

A sudden beeping alerted both of you to the smoke rising from the stove. You both jogged to the bacon and you quickly removed the pan from the heat. Bucky burst out laughing and after overcoming your shock, you joined him.

“Oh my God Y/N” he wheezed between chuckles. His hand was still clutching yours from when you were dancing and he was bent over at the waist nearly in tears from laughing so hard.

“Buck, you good?” you joked with him while also being bent over trying to catch your breath.

“I don’t know. Did the bacon survive?” he smirked at you.

“Only if you like it extra crispy which I know you do.”

“Doll, you know me too well” Bucky smiled and grabbed a slice off the pan.

You both got yourselves settled with some breakfast and the music still played in the background. It was around 8 am now and you could hear some of the other avengers shuffling around their rooms. Your phone alerted you to a text with a loud ding and you reached for it with a mouth full of pancakes.

* Hey there gorgeous. What are u up to today? :)*

It was from that security guy downstairs, Kevin, who had asked for your number last week. He constantly tried to make conversation with you whenever you left or entered the building. Sometimes you humored him but you were never really interested. Obviously, you were too in love with Bucky to be interested in anyone except for Bucky.

*Not much*

You decided to go with a short response in hopes of him taking your hint and leaving you alone to pine after a man who didn’t love you.

“Who was it?” Buck questioned.

“Oh that security guard, Kevin. He just asked what I was up to today and called me pretty” you chuckled at him and rolled your eyes when you told him the part about Kevin calling you pretty. Bucky didn’t chuckle along with you, in fact his smile faded all together. It was replaced with a scowl and his eyebrows scrunched together. If you were being honest, he looked a little jealous. But that must’ve just been your imagination letting you see what you wish was real.

“I don’t like that guy much. You shouldn’t be hanging out with him if you ask me”, Bucky grumbled out.

“Well, I didn’t ask you but I’ll take your opinion into consideration”, you joked with him. His stoney looked faded away to be replaced with a small smile.

“But if you really don’t want me hanging out with him that much, I won’t”, you stated matter of factly and plucked your phone back out of your pocket.

*On second thought, I have plans today*

“There it’s settled. Now, what do you want to do today?”, You beamed down at Bucky from where you were standing.

“Wait, you’re serious? Just like that, no more Kevin?”, he grinned.

“Yup, no more Kevin”

Bucky’s POV

This woman was maddening.

“Didn’t you like him at all? You did give him your number” I asked trying to contain my joy that she would rather spend time with me than that douchebag of a security guard. I saw the way that he looked her up and down when her back was turned. It made me want to poke his eyes out so he wouldn’t have anything left to objectify her with.

“Nah I wasn’t really all that fond of him. I could tell he was kind of a sleaze ball. And besides you know you are just about my favorite person on the planet, so I’d much rather hang out with you” I could hardly contain my smile. There was something strange in the expression on her face. It was like she didn’t mean to be saying these things out loud. As if she was sharing a secret. This sparked a hope in me that I haven’t felt in a long time. A hope that maybe she loved me back.

Love-Hate || MURPHY x READER - Modern!AU, NSFW

Heeeeey guys! So here I am again, trying to post more frequently… :) This one became an alternative, modern-day, university universe, though the last bit is not that important. It is to be noted, however, that this one is a smut, meaning +18 content, although… Well, you know me. I’m not that graphic, I guess.

Based on these requests:

Anonymous said:
“[text]: You thought you could get away with that, didn’t you?” Prompt with Murphy please?


Anonymous asked: 94 John Murphy


Anonymous said:
“I could kiss you right now” with Murphy whenever you have the time would be great


Anonymous said:
“We can’t keep doing this.” And “Eat me” fro John Murphy I’ve been obsessed with him Recently


Anonymous said:
“It’s not a double date, we are just third and fourth wheeling” is awesome, with Murphy please?

Yeah, I may have included a lot of requests in this one, but they worked together so well…

Word count: almost 3,800
Warnings: sexual themes, bad language

Have fun reading! :D

Jasper and Maya were the cutest thing ever.

Like, literally. Their photos would be sent to a baby seal by a baby doggy, squeaking over their cuteness. Both of them were sweet to the bone, getting all flushed and giggly and awkward around each other. Personally, I wasn’t very fond of relationships, not a ‘shipper’ as some would say but even I thought that Maya’s honeyed caring completed Jasper’s funny goofiness heavenly.

The only problem was – neither of them dared to make the first step, and they were driving us mad. I’ve known Jasper since Elementary, he was my best friend, and now as we were at university, we were renting an apartment together, which meant I was bombarded with his rambling about how pretty and smart and cute and fantastic Maya was, and how utterly frightened Jasper felt about asking her out on a date.

“If you’re so afraid, then cover it up with something,” I sighed one night, getting more and more annoyed. I loved Jasper, I really did, but I was trying to do something on my laptop and he just wouldn’t stop talking.

“What do you mean?” he looked up from biting his nails anxiously, his thumb still in his mouth.

“Dunno. If you’re afraid of her saying no…”

“No, I’m afraid she’ll say yes!”


“I mean… What if I’ll go out with her to a restaurant or something, and I’ll get nervous and do something really awkward and mess it all up?”

“Then ask someone to go with you as well. You know, if there are more people, it’ll seem like a friendly gathering, and maybe you won’t screw up, either.”

So this is how I ended up in front of the cinema, out there, shivering in the cold, and giving my death-glare to Jonathan Murphy. The bastard smirked at me and took his cigarette into his mouth.

Keep reading


PROMPT LIST — send me a character and a #!

  • “PLEASE put your shirt back on. please don’t make me laugh at you.”
  • “THIS place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kill myself with.”
  • “YOU like me? you like my personality?”
  • “YOU my boo. you my boo and i’ve been missin’ you. i’ve been missin you so long.”
  • “YOU know what’s weird? i don’t find this weird anymore.”
  • “GOD, you’re about to say something stupid, aren’t you?”
  • “GIRL, imma marry you.”
  • “I see him and my heart explodes.”
  • “WE all…need to meet new people.”
  • “IT’S kinda stupid how much i’m in love with you.”
  • “SO if any of you have anything else to say to my boo, i will drag you outside and we will handle this la style!”
  • “I’M sorry about the whole kissing thing.”
  • “OH, you don’t have to apologize. i did…kiss you back, a little.”
  • “I hope that you don’t remember that i said any of these things tomorrow.”
  • “YOU’VE been taking care of me my entire life.”
  • “WHEN you’re going through ‘a taylor swift-like range of emotions,’ i should come over, right?”
  • “YOU were the only one that i could talk to. being brown, you have the wisdom of a thousand white women.”
  • “I’D really like to start calling you shawty in public.”
  • “THEY’VE made me weak in my stupid knees.”
  • “I want to spend the rest of my life hearing all your stories.”
  • “IF you hurt her, i will let myself die. and then i will haunt you.”
  • “I am a grown woman that is in love with her ex that has a girlfriend. and i’ve been stealing my neighbor’s wi-fi.”
  • “I’VE made out with half of the guys in this room.”
  • “THEY are not exactly what my mom had imagined for me. you know, she wanted someone maybe not so…white?”
  • “YOU look like a prostitute for wizards.”
  • “YOU look like a homeless pencil.”
  • “YEAH, i’m nervous. yeah, i’m really nervous. i mean, she’s beautiful and she’s super cool…”
  • “YOU know i have a boyfriend, right?”
  • “I hate your ideas. i hate them almost as much as i love you, which is so much.”
  • “NOTHING is more important to me than your future.”
  • “I’M never gonna stop trying to make you happy.”
  • “SHE’S never gonna be happy with someone like me.”
  • “CAN we just take a moment to appreciate them? i mean, the effect they have on people…it’s really incredible. i can’t believe…they’re dating me. i mean, like, whaaaat?”
  • “IF you tell anyone we held hands, i have two people on my phone who will kill you.“
  • “I may be an idiot, but i’m smart enough to know what i lost.”
  • “YOU and i not being together does not make sense to me.”
  • “I’M really gonna need you to step it up tonight, okay? when i see you, i wanna be thinking, ‘who let the dirty slut out of the slut house?’”
  • “I simply want a demographic breakdown of all the guys that hit on you.”
  • “AS my best friend, i expect you to be willing to sacrifice everything for me at a moment’s notice.”
  • “WATCH it, buddy! ‘cause i will calcutta bitch up in here. i will cal. cut. a. bitch.”
  • “YOU’RE not the only one that’s hurting.”
  • “YOU’RE the smartest, ballsiest, bitchiest, truly terrifying woman that i have enjoyed in a really long time.”
  • “YOU don’t deserve to be treated like that.”
  • “YOU don’t know my pain.”
  • “IF i was doing something stupid, you would definitely be involved.”
  • “AND those shoelaces must be tied together ‘cause you are straight trippin’, yo.”
  • “DO i regret it? yes. would i do it again? probably.”
  • “SHE makes you weak and penis dumb.”
  • “I don’t think i can even look at him without getting pregnant.“
  • "I’M gonna ask you to get out of my girlfriend’s bed, man.”
  • “I think i’m getting my period.”
  • “I don’t want nobody to eat me! i got thick thighs! i got a fat ass!”
  • “THEY love me so much, and to be honest, it scares me. i don’t think i deserve all of that love.”

anonymous asked:

I saw your headcanons about MC suggesting a threesome, and I saw in the bottom notes that you would want to write whole different head canons if it was because MC was questioning if she might be bi, so I just wanted to ask if you would be willing to write that? I'm super interested in their reactions if that was the case.

I was really interested in writing about this. As a bisexual girl who still has a lot of questions, this feels really personal, also this is about the support I never had from family and from some past relationships. Anyway, shout out to all the bis here, you’re not confused, you’re not going through a phase, you deserve love and you’re not alone

RFA boys with MC coming out as bi

Jaehee won’t be included here because I assume her and MC are openly bisexuals. These girls are bi and happy together, so let them have fun.

Common: Okay, so MC suggested a threesome with another girl, they already declined. And as much as you apologized for suggesting this and making them feel comfortable, they can tell that there’s something else going on…


  • He already told you that’s fine, he wasn’t uncomfortable, he would even consider the idea if it wasn’t for his career.
  • I mean, of course he would love to satisfy two sweet ladies at once, and watching you two interact would be… interesting.
  • As he embarrassedly admitted that, he noticed you gulping and getting nervous all of a sudden. Hum…
  • “Or… unless you wouldn’t like to touch the other lady…” “N-No! I would! I mean, I… I… ugh, forget it.”
  • “Come on babe, tell me what’s in your mind.” “Zen… would you still love me if I tell you I might be bi?” Whoa… so that is what you had in mind?
  • “Of course I would, MC! I love you, no matter what! But uhm… are you… are you considering leave me to experience your… feelings?” “Oh god, Zen! No! Of course not! I just… I love you! I just… want to know if you’re comfortable…”
  • “I am comfortable as long as you are, my princess. I keep telling you I want you to be everything you want to be, right? So be happy about who you are, and I’ll be happy too.” No need to say you cried a lot and he held you sweetly the whole night.
  • He hums to you, and you definitely know the chorus of this one: “Is that ‘Girls/Girls/Boys’ by Panic! At the Disco?”  he blushes when you giggle and give him a little smooch.



  • He’s as flustered as you are, apologizing for not being able to do this, he wants to do everything you want, but… that’s a boundary he can’t cross.
  • Of course it’s a idea that arouses him a lot, but… sometimes he feels you’re too much for him to handle, just imagine two girls.
  •  And… he feels pathetic for saying that, but… he’s scared you might toss him aside and focus only in the girl. What if you fall for her and decide to leave him?
  • You widen your eyes when he says this, he notices and giggles nervously. “I’m just kidding… hahah, can you imagine?”
  • “Yes, I… I can, Yoosung.” “What?” “I mean, I wouldn’t leave you, never! But I… the idea of falling for a girl isn’t… impossible.”
  • “Oh… so you’re saying you… are…” “Bisexual? Yes, I… think I am, Yoosung.” You two stare at each other, both of you wondering “what now?”, or maybe he isn’t, as he chuckles sweetly and give you the sweetest look he ever gave you.
  • “I’ll support you in whatever you decide to do from now on.” Wow, you’ve never seen him like that, so calm, so secure… not even him can believe in his coolness, but he just knows he has to be like this for you right now.
  • And as he hugs you and tells you everything will be alright, he realizes he can get used to being this cool confident guy if it makes you happy.


  • He’s not angry, ok? He is just… surprised by your… request.
  • He doesn’t know any other woman who could make him feel like you do, and, truth be told, he doesn’t even want to.
  • And he’s pretty confident on the fact that you wouldn’t know a woman who can make you feel like he does… would you?
  •  “I… why do you ask that?” hmmm, not the answer he was waiting for. “It was more like a rhetorical question, but apparently you have an answer.” You look at him reluctantly .
  •  “Tell me what you’re thinking, my love.” “I might be bi, Jumin.” Again, not what he was waiting for…
  • “I see… how long have you been thinking about that?” “My whole life?” he widens his eyes a little, you never fail to impress him, do you?
  • “I understand. You’re the one that keeps encouraging me on never holding back how I feel, I suppose I should give you reciprocity.” “What does that mean?” “That I’ll support you in everything this pure heart of yours might want even if is not what I want.”
  • Was this about a threesome? Well, that to. But you know he meant that he would let you go if you need him too. He came a long way ever since that possessive guy, and you could never leave somebody who changed so much for you.


  • He’s down for the threesome if you’re doing for the right reason.
  •  Are you doing this because you’ve been questioning yourself on this? Then we can think this through.
  • He knows you pretty well by now, and he’s been there himself, so… he understands you.
  • “U-Understand what?” you ask him nervously, oh… you’re still very confused, aren’t you?
  • ”No need to hide from me, MC. I know what you’re thinking, okay?” “Did you finally hack into me?” he chuckles “I don’t need to. You know I’m bi too, right?”
  • “Yes, sure.” “And you support me and love me no matter what, right?” “Yes.” “And you know I love you and support you too, right?” “Yes, but… Saeyoung, I… I’m scared…”
  • He hugs you and makes you nuzzle in his chest. “It’s okay to be scared, sometimes I’m scared too.”
  • So yeah, the threesome? Not happening. At least not for now, you still have a few things to process, but he’s here to help you through … oh, but he can’t wait for you to be comfortable about bisexuality puns. “Let’s just chill and be on stand bi, okay?” “Oh my god, Saeyoung!” you laugh through your tears.


  • Okay, now that you calmed him down and made sure he understands he is enough for you, he is… curious.
  • Where did you even get that idea from? Why did you think he would like that? Would you even like that?
  • “I… wouldn’t hate it.” “What the hell does that mean?”
  • Oh, this look in your eyes, so much fear, he hates when you don’t tell him things because you fear his reaction. Is he that scary? He doesn’t mind being intimidating to most people, but not you, he doesn’t want to intimidate you. He wants you to be comfortable around him as much as he is around you. “Come on, you can spit it out, I… promise I won’t get mad.”
  • “Saeran… don’t hate me for being bi, please…” Oh! So that’s it? Well, he kinda knew about that, he remembers a few things from your browse history when he was considering you to be his bait… are you still struggling with that? Oh… that… sucks!
  •  He scoffs and pulls you for a hug. “How can I hate you, you cute little dork?” “Aren’t you mad?” “I told you I wouldn’t get mad, didn’t I? When did I ever break a promise I made to you?” “N-never, but…” your voice is breaking, shit, he can’t handle you crying.
  • “So here’s another promise, I will always support you on being comfortable with who you are, just as you do with me. And I’ll punch everybody that ever makes you feel you’re not normal, okay? And… stop crying, for fuck’s sake! I… I don’t like seeing you cry…” he was blushing, and you smiled widely.
  • When did he turn into this understanding mature guy? Who cares? You just hug him again and smile, he’s growing, so are you, and it’s good to grow together.



  • Well, he doesn’t hate the idea of a threesome, but…
  • He’s not that interested in something that would be too much about his own pleasure, unless this is for your own too…
  • “Well, I… could take a lot of pleasure from this too…” hummm, he knows where this is going
  • “How come, my love?” but he’s asking just to be sure, a sweet smile and interested eyes looking at you.
  • “I think I’m bi, V.” did he listen? He’s not giving any reaction right now…
  • “I understand…” he pulls you for a hug. “Thank you for sharing this with me, it’s such an important part of you and I’m honored that you’re comfortable to share this with me.”
  • “Uhm… you’re welcome?” he chuckles “I’ll do whatever you need me to do in order to make you comfortable, okay?”
  • This is also about the threesome, but you know he’s talking about an open relationship… it’s a possibility, but you need time to figure things out, you have no doubt he’ll give you all the time you want.

auction | tommy shelby

SO i’ve just had a brain wave. Pretty please could I request an imagine where there’s an auction on at the garrison for charity and the crowd are bidding on the selected few people stood on the bar to take on a date, Tommy makes the reader get up thinking he will easily outbid anyone for her but another guy starts bidding loads of money n he gets jealous OR reader makes Tommy get up as a joke and another girl starts bidding and a bit of a cat fight starts hehe u choose which way! thank YOU

send requests here

Keep reading

Cause You're My Favorite Hue

Masterpost: {x}

 Part: 11/90

 Pairing: Jamilton 

 Inspiration: this post and this song 

 Summary: Black and white was all anyone saw until they touched their soulmate. For some people, color quickly rushed into world and for others, all they ever saw was black and white. Two businessmen, who absolutely hated each other, managed to bump into each other on their way up to their office. Little did either know that their world would erupt in a staccato of color. 

Warning: cussing, mentions of divorce 

 Word Count: 3,770 

 Dedication: @semoka for the hella adorable Angelica and @midnigtartist because jamilton trash. But in a great way. 

 Tags: @randomcakes410, @midnigtartist, @kneel-to-maria, @halpdevon, @wildlittleman, @exadorlion, @lukassgoggles, @closestfriendivegot, @celestialqueerfeminist, @schokoobananaa, @cometviolet, @justsmilingandnodding, @lapiamedots, @semoka, @jayceemayy, @kyller-biis, @focusofthememes, @sarcastic-swl-dragon, @starspeckled, @yourapplepiebetterbeworthit, @saturn-sails 

 A/N: this was a really emotional chapter for me TBH. Ps don’t read this if you haven’t read the other parts (all linked above)   

It was nearing the end of the work day, and, well, Alexander didn’t want to go home. After all, everyone he cared about was in the building, so why face his problems?

Okay, he knew he needed to talk to Eliza, but he was worried sick. Literally.

Keep reading

choose your battles iii

a/n: ooooo steve. also reader is mother hen af and i love it. 
word count: 2.6k
warnings: none

pairing: do u SEE IT

pt 1 here

pt 2 here

tag list: @bobbdylan, @tomorraw @marvel-music-books @deeper-in-my-mind

When you woke up, Becca was still asleep. You knew it would be a weird day for her as part of the team was going out on a mission today so you decided to let her sleep a little longer as you went down to the kitchen.

“You look a bit worse for wear.” you said as you encountered Tony, sitting on the counter with his head in his hands. “Wanna talk about it?” you offered, pulling two bottles of water from the fridge, setting one on the counter next to Tony and pulling yourself up onto the counter across from him.

Keep reading

More Than Kind and Less Than Kind, Chapter Two

A/n: Wow, this chapter is much longer than the first. C’est la vie. Please send in plot ideas if you guys have any bunnies jumping around in your head. I know the adlock fam is much smaller than some of my other fandoms, but I love you guys and I love writing for this fandom because we get so little on screen. I hope you all enjoy. I love writing Sherlock and Irene. Their banter is my favourite. All I’ve got say is…beware the East Wind.

Find all my stories at https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3738156/PixieKindOfCrazy if you care.

Chapter 2:

“You do realize, at one point, you will have to leave this room?”

One would assume that this question was directed at Irene by Sherlock, hoping to avoid his blogger seeing the Woman. Incorrect.

Irene was leaning in the doorway, attempting to repress the urge to put her hand on her hip and scold the man lazing in bed.

“That poses a rather brilliant existential question, my love-if I stay in this exact spot forever, and the furnishings around me change, am I still in my bedroom?”

Irene rolled her eyes starkly, pushing off the wall in frustration and stalking away to the kitchen. She couldn’t help that her body portrayed her emotions with him sometimes. His presence had a way of stripping off her veneer without her noticing. It was rather irritating.

A few moments later, she heard the distinct sounds of his sluggish foot steps.  She was too busy making herself a cup of coffee to bother to turn around and face him.

“I feel sorry for your mother,” she remarked as she felt him enter the room, “You must have been a hellishly difficult child.”

“Hmm, I feel sorry for you actually,” he smirked, pausing a moment to simply watch the way her hands moved as she stirred the cream into her coffee.

“And why is that?” she finally turned to look at him, blinking twice as she tests her patience to indulge him just this once.

“Because,” he chuckled, a deep timber, “I was a difficult child. And I still am,” he finished, taking the mug of caffeine from her hands smoothly.

He sipped it in appreciation and held back the full smile that often wanted to break out on his face whenever he teased her, “Mmm. Quite good.”

Her stare became icy and her eyes resembled those of a feline, hunting and planning its next move.  

“Oh stop,” he mumbled, handing her the mug back and giving a quick, amused snort as he walked to the refrigerator. He opened the door, looking around for the experiment he started the day before. Where are those eyeballs??

“Excuse me?” she bantered back, “Stop what?”

“The look on your face,” he gestured vaguely to her expression, not bothering to actually look at her.

“The annoyed look? I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that may stay on my face for the majority of the time we spend together, darling.”

He grimaced at the pet name and leaned against the counter, nibbling on the biscuit he’d gotten out of the fridge John kept telling him that biscuits go in the cupboard, but he liked them better cold.

“No-the murder-plotting look. As you stated previously, you can’t kill me and hide the evidence before John gets here.”

She scoffs, “Please, I don’t have a-“

“It’s the same look you get whenever I stop moving right before you orgasm or if I wake you up before your alarm goes off. When I leave a plate out on the table after dinner-that look,” he points at her face, matter of fact, “And when you find one of my experiments on top of your bag, I can tell the murder would be quite creative. Call it what you will, but I know what you’re thinking when that look is on your face-you’re imaging creative ways to maim me.”

“Hmm. He’s learning,” she cooed and carefully pressed her body close up against his, loving to feel how his heartbeat sped up as he squirmed. She smiled up at him, fake sweetness and eyelashes, as she slid her hand expertly up the collar of his robe. His eyes flickered down to follow the movement of her hand, for once, unaware of his actions.

“However….” She breathed softly, her face tilting up towards his.

“However…?” his gaze is trapped on her lips now, smeared lipstick still there from the night previous and he wondered if she has left the same mark on him. Most likely.

She deftly grabbed the biscuit out of his hand and stepped back from his body, leaving him cold. She hopped up to sit on the kitchen table behind him and grinned. It is the only time Sherlock could remember having ever seen her resemble a child and a mischievous one at that.

“However, I’m the master.”

His expression automatically fell into Pout Number Three, as she liked to call it. Or ‘the one where Irene beats me and I don’t get to feel like the cool one.’
She forces herself not to admit that the frown looks a little bit charming on his daft face as he mutters, “Biscuit thief, more like.”

He grumbled slightly as he pulled up a chair at the island and sat next to her, picking up the newspaper whose origin of appearance had had no idea of. He hadn’t picked one up yesterday and he didn’t remember seeing Irene with one. Quite a small, unimportant detail, but it perturbed him; he hated not noticing things. She distracted him.

“Sherlock!” the two strange creatures inhabiting the flat heard a voice call out as marked, familiar footsteps approached, “You better still be in here of sound mind or I’ll be having a talk with Greg to get guards at this door,” John Watson walked into the flat quite casually, like he was still living there, and hung his coat on the rack. His back was towards them so he had yet to glimpse the woman, sitting on the kitchen table in his best friend’s dress shirt.

Sherlock smiled ever so slightly, the tiniest bit amused, and nodded at Irene. It was a silent gesture for her to hide. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want his trusted friend to know that he…kept in contact, so to speak, with the Woman.  But he had an idea in mind.

Sherlock didn’t say a word, but Irene knew that he wanted to play a game on his blogger. Their similar world-view lends the couple several advantages; the gift of silent, efficient communication is probably the most useful.

Before the good doctor could even turn around, Irene had slipped from the kitchen to hide in the bathroom alongside. She briefly wondered what Sherlock was playing at and how long it would take John to notice her signature Louis Vitton heels on the floor by Sherlock’s chair.

“Oh calm down, John. I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself. You lot seem to forget, but I am not actually an infant.”

John fixes his friend with a potent glare, “No, actually-my infant is easier to watch after. At least she doesn’t shoot up heroine when she’s upset.”

Sherlock held back the first acrid thought that came to his bitter mind- ‘that you know of’ probably wasn’t the best joke to tell a man about his daughter soon after his wife had died.

Instead, he lightly rolled his eyes and went to sit down in his chair in the living room, still reading the paper, “It was cocaine this time, actually.”

John walked further into the flat and heaved a sigh, nodding, “Of course it was. You don’t-“

“No, Watson. I don’t still have any; Lestrade made sure to confiscate every last piece of contraband I own.  Well, of the drug variety.”

John frowned slightly in response, wondering about that last remark for a split second before he cut his thought process off, “Nope. Don’t need to know the particulars. Don’t live here anymore. And I am not your babysitter, Sherlock.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”

The shorter man paused, a little thrown by the change in his friend’s attitude. He seemed…less down than the night before. His tone was distinctly less pained than yesterday. Almost playful. When john looked at his eyes, he could tell the pain and guilt were still there. But there was something else.
“Are you…high right now? Or perhaps a little drunk…”

“Wha-“ Sherlock scoffed and put the paper down dramatically, “I just told you that I don’t have any drugs in the flat. I know you’re not dumb, John, so maybe you’re going deaf?”

A comment that should have stung simply bounced off John’s jacket; he was too used to Sherlock’s verbal antics and deflections.

“No, you just seem….” He scanned the room for clues- something he learned from the man he was currently analyzing- and his eyes fell on a distinctive pair of high heels with red bottoms, “distracted….better, maybe. Than yesterday.”
“Hmm,” Sherlock hummed neutrally, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, as he watched John’s eyes to see the gears grind in his head, “Well I am certainly not high, unfortunately. I can assure you that.”

The room is dead silent for a minute before the sound of Sherlock groan of pleasure cut through the air. Which was quite confusing for John considering Sherlock’s mouth had not opened or moved. The man looked rather bored, really.

“Sherlock??” John raised an eyebrow in a slightly disturbed, confused expression, “Was that-“

He sighed as he hears a woman’s voice cursing quietly from the hall, “No…well, not live,” he rolled his eyes as Irene walked out from the bathroom and came to stand behind him, “It was Irene’s text-tone,” he sensed her behind him and turned slightly to give her a brief, annoyed stare, “I still don’t understand how you recorded that without my knowing. Or why.”

Irene Adler laughed softly to herself in a way a woman does when a man asks a very dumb question. She moved to position herself in front of the chair, sitting on the arm of it and draping her legs across Sherlock’s lap. She smiled briefly at John, enjoying his bewilderment.

“Do use that beautiful brain, Sherl. You know you don’t notice much when I’m getting you to make those sounds.”

Sherlock’s eyes flare at her in annoyance as John’s widen in shock.
“Irene…” John says her name, almost to himself, as he stares at her and tries to ascertain if she’s real or not, “I knew you weren’t dead, but-“ he blinks, stopping as something suddenly catches up with him, “Hold on, did she just call you, Sherl?”

Sherlock sighed in exasperation-he had hoped his friend wouldn’t notice that part- and reluctantly bit out, “Apparently, it’s her new method of torture. I’m trying to get her to stop.”

“Right,” he nodded to himself continually, too shocked to process all of his thoughts, “Okay…..” he stared at the previously dead woman lounging on the detective’s lap and can’t seem to accept the visual in front of him. This was worse than the time Sherlock had pretended to date what’s her name, “Why is she sitting on your lap? There is another chair.”

“She,” Irene suddenly spoke up, with a slight spike to her voice, “is sitting right here and can speak for herself, Dr. Watson. I’m in this chair because the other one is yours. Obviously.”

John froze, taken aback at the respect that she had automatically showed him, “Oh…but I’m not using it.”

“No, but you always come back to that chair. And argue with Sherlock. He needs that. If I sit there, I might eventually get in the way.”

Sherlock looked out the window and shoved the smirk he waned to let out back down into his pocket, “Plus it is easier for her to manhandle me this way.”

“Hush, you love how I handle you.”

Sherlock did not blush. He does not blush. Ever.

He may have blushed, “Woman…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, impatient with her, “Would you please refrain?”

“Of course,” she stood up gracefully and leaned over to kiss his lips- a short, surprisingly loving touch, “I have to go shortly, anyway. Business to attend to.”
She headed to his room to get changed, but not before giving one last sharp remark, “The cinnamon roll in the fridge is mine and if you eat it while I’m gone, I will bake your microscope in the oven until it’s just as gooey.”



The two men sat in silence in the small, shabby living room. One casually flipped through the newspaper, pretending to be interested in it to avoid the other man’s gaze. The other man, for his part, waited until the woman had shut the door of the bedroom before he exploded on his friend.

“Sherlock!” he almost shouted, sputtering, “I can’t believe…actually I can,” he took a deep breath and shook his head, calming himself down. “Explain,” he demanded.

“What exactly do you want me to tell you? I thought the situation was self-explanatory.” Sherlock was genuinely confused.

“Don’t give me that! Until the other day, I thought she was dead! Then I have to piece together by myself that you saved her. And now she shows up in the flat. I knew you kept in touch with her occasionally, but…she’s wearing your shirt Sherlock and I know what that means.”

“I don’t think you do-“

“I’m a grown man. I know how sex works.”

Sherlock held his tongue in his cheek for a second before explaining, “She’s not wearing it because of some sexy cliché. I ripped her dress. She has nothing else to wear.”


“Yes,” he nodded, pretending not to be proud of himself for that.

“That still explains nothing!” he snapped, “I’m your friend, Sherlock….this sort of stuff-major life stuff…well, I kind of thought you would tell me about it.”

He wanted to tell him not to be a girl about this, but he could sense that that would be indelicate at the moment. As Irene said, he was learning; his emotional intelligence was growing.

Sherlock groaned, unsure of how to be proceed, and feeling a slight stab of guilt. He had already caused John too much pain, “John…you are my only friend. Really,” he shrugs, “And I wasn’t hiding her. It’s not as if I don’t trust you.”
“Then why did I have no idea?”

He broke, “Because I don’t know how to do it, John! It wasn’t a plan. I didn’t come up with an elaborate secret and purposely keep it from everyone. I just didn’t talk about it…about her. Because I don’t know how to. Not knowing makes me uncomfortable, you know that. So I avoid the topic. Until she shows up.”

John nodded in understanding. Sherlock really wasn’t as complicated of a man as he would have liked everyone to think. He was a brilliant mind guided by the soul of a confused child that only ever wanted adventures. Interpersonal relationships were not his forte. Most children learned to navigate their way through relationships, romantic or otherwise, as they grew up and became adults. Sherlock skipped that stage. He went straight from child to adult; the empathy, the stage that links childhood to adulthood, was thrown out in his upbringing. And the reason for that dismissal of empathy was erased, replaced by a macabre nursery rhyme.

“So…” John leaned forward, elbows on his knees, ready to listen, “Why did she show up?”

Sherlock didn’t answer, glancing to his phone before he could control the impulse.

“Ah,” John smiled, proud that Sherlock had taken his advice, “You texted her.”
“Yes,” Sherlock assented, “…We talked about cake.”

John threw a disbelieving quirked brow at his former flat mate, “Is that all you talked about?”

Sherlock did not move. His body stayed still as his mind whirled, debating how much to tell John. It is still a sensitive subject for them both.

“No,” he hesitated before continuing, “Of course not.”

“Then what-“

Sherlock ran a hand over his face, rubbing his forehead in distress, “Mary. We talked about Mary.”

John’s eyes widened for a second, a little worried that Sherlock was sharing such personal details to a woman that was technically a criminal.

Sherlock shook his head, reading the thought off of John’s face, “I didn’t tell her. She already knew. I just…elaborated. On my part of the story.”

“There’s still something I don’t understand, though. Why? Why did you message her in the first place? I thought you didn’t text her back.”

Sherlock chuckled at his friend’s see-through lie, “No, you didn’t. You didn’t believe me when I said that.”

John smiled, happy to see his friend more at ease now than he had been the last couple of weeks, “No, I didn’t. You’re not as good a liar as you think.”

“I know,” he said, “I…wanted to talk to someone that I didn’t have to explain things to.”

John frowned again, offended just a tad, “Just because I’m not as intelligent as you, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t understand what you were feeling.”

“No!” he explained, “I didn’t mean it like….I’m honestly not sure how to explain this, but Irene knows what I’m thinking. You know I don’t like to voice my feelings out loud. Especially the really difficult ones. If I talk to her about everything, I don’t have to say what’s bothering me. I deflect her questions too, when she probes too deep, but she reads between the lines of my words and…she knows what I’m refusing to say.”

The way John was looking at him at that moment made Sherlock want to take back everything he just said and throw himself into a black hole. Why does everyone have to look at him like that green Christmas monster that grew a heart whenever he talks about what he feels? It’s not a conducive reaction if they’re trying to get him to open up more often.

John looked at Sherlock like he finally realized his friend was capable of real human emotion. And, admittedly, it made John feel good that there was finally something he knew more about than Sherlock.

“So you wanted to talk to her so you could feel like someone was sympathizing with you, without having to do any work?”

Sherlock glanced down at the paper again, supremely uncomfortable and uninterested in the daily news, “I guess it was just easier,” he said, “She understood. Didn’t think I was crazy, or going soft. And it helps that she doesn’t look at me like a baby learning to speak when I announce that I ,in fact, do have emotions.”

John felt a little bit bad for that part, so he gave in, “Fair point.”


The restaurant she was supposed to meet her next client at was filled with pretension. The overly ornate curtains covering the glass windows had fleur de lis carefully stitched onto them. The hand folded napkin at each place setting was an origami swan. The entire décor screamed for attention, but Irene was not intimidated. She knew how to make herself appear as if she belonged anywhere. She was the ultimate chameleon and her sleek dark blue dress was all the camouflage she would need today.

For the man she was meeting, however, she could not say the same. As she walked in, she saw him sat at one of the front tables by himself. He was meeting the dress code of the restaurant, yes. But only technically. His sport coat was a size too small-obviously borrowed from a much fitter man whom could afford fancy dress. His face was freshly shaven, but littered with tiny razor nicks, as if he didn’t groom himself often enough to know how to do so properly. The little hair he had was combed over into the only decent style he knew. As much as she hated crediting Sherlock’s ego, she had to admit that spending time around him seemed to have given her powers of observations a tune up.

The man did not fit in in this place, but he was trying hard to disguise himself. That fact put Irene off just a little bit. Usually, if a client is unkempt, they don’t ask to meet in a place like this, knowing they wouldn’t blend in. But she sat down across from the man regardless.

“Your associate said you had some information I might find useful…” she let her red-painted lips naturally curve into the sinister smirk that never failed to ensnare every one of her clients.

He swallowed and used the pristine napkin to wipe the slight sweat that had accumulated off his forehead. Nerves. Why is he so scared? She wondered as she slightly narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Yes,” he managed to stutter out, eyes darting from side to side once, checking if he was being watched? “And I will tell you, I swear. But I believe my associate mentioned something about your methods of compensation?”

She rolled her eyes elegantly, picking up the menu to scan it for her favourite cocktail-dealing with this man may require booze, “Recreational scolding. The rough stuff,” she flicked her eyes back up from the menu to meet his in order to gauge his reaction, “If I deem the information you give me to be valuable, then I will pay for it.”

“Wait, you mean…if I tell you first, right here, then you will…punish me?”

She sighed and nodded nonchalantly, bored, “Yes. But only if the information is worth it.”

“No!” he frowned at her, fear in his eyes, “I want a guarantee that I will be paid. This information…it isn’t safe for me to be giving.”

“Not safe for you or not safe for me?” she lifted an eyebrow curiously.

The man suddenly became serious and a cold look came into his eyes, as if a chill had invaded his bones, “Not safe for either of us.”

“Oh, I’m intrigued,” she grinned, refusing to allow this man’s fear to rub off on her, “Do explain, sir.”

“Guarantee my payment. I guarantee you it’s worth it…if you value your life.”
In Irene’s line of work, threats to her life were not uncommon. She refrained from another eyeroll, “Of course I do. But how can I be sure that you aren’t simply pulling my leg?”

“I know who you are, Ms. Adler. You’re supposed to be able to tell when a man is lying to you. That’s what they say, at least. Look at my face, look in my eyes….I’m not faking.”

Irene paused, briefly admiring the hit at her ego as an attempt to persuade her. She examined the man’s expression, the thoughts behind his eyes, and something there shook her a little, “You really are scared…But, of who?”

Most people would ask ‘Of what?’, but it’s quite obvious what he is afraid of-whoever he got this information from will kill him if he relays it to her. Ergo….who?

“Someone that is very interested in you, that you better pray you never meet.”
“Is that all you can give me?” She pretended to not be affected, as was her method.

“I can tell you that the man I got this information from checked himself into an asylum the next day, muttering ‘Don’t let her in.’”

“So it’s a woman that’s in control, huh? Refreshing,” she quipped, looking the man up and down for a second, “And what is this information you’re lording over me?”

The man’s face went pale, all life drained away as he looked towards the door for a second then back at her, “Leave England. She’s after you. The man I spoke of…he gave me this, stole it from one of her guards.”

As he handed over an old crumpled note, she frowned in interest, “She has body guards?”

“No…cell guards. My informant worked as a janitor at her prison.”

She took the note from him carefully, a dubious expression etched onto her face, “She’s coming to get me…from jail?”

“Oh yes, Miss. Read the note.”

The woman looked down at the faded piece of parchment in her hands as was barely able to discern ‘Irene Adler-221 B Baker Street.’

The man nodded at the aghast look that came over her face; Irene hid it well, but the fact that this crazy woman knew she would be at Sherlock’s place worried her, “She was scribbling that over and over again on the walls of her cell.”

“But this isn’t even the current address of my hotel in London.”

“No,” the man smiled, darkly amused despite himself, “But it’s where you were last, isn’t it?”

A silence fell across the table as Irene considered this pathetic, little man, and whether to trust his story. When she got up from the table, she still hadn’t decided, “This meeting is over. Consider my payment nullified.”

She drowned out the man’s indignant complaining as she walked out of the restaurant, her heart beating in her ears.


She honestly wasn’t going to concern Sherlock with this worry. She could take care of it herself; this type of thing has happened to her before. And she certainly wasn’t running from London because of a sad, horny man’s anonymous tip.

But she had gone back to 221 B, as the note had predicted she would. Her desire to be unpredictable lost to her stubbornness to admit she was afraid. She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea when she received a text from an unknown number and dropped the cup to the floor, the pieces shattering as her skin went icy.

Contact: Unknown, received 2:05 p.m:

As the east wind blows to beautiful Calypso
So approaches his test
The sea has grown treacherous, the waves don’t love him
They will give him no rest
When the waters turn against, his body fully spent
He might give up his quest
If I wreck his ship and he still doesn’t quit
Should I take the pirate’s treasure from his chest?
His spoils mean nothing, his gold is rusted
These things hold no value for this man
But if I wreck the siren, calling to be trusted,
He will swim where no one can
After all, If you take a man’s heart from his breast,
Really, truly, what will be left?
-Much love.

“Eurus…” she said the name on an exhale of breath, feeling like a ghost had entered the room and was now watching her. She had been begrudgingly worried before; no matter how used to danger you are, it’s still a little concerning. But now…

Normally once she figured out who was after her, the process became easier, but not this time. This time, knowing only terrified her. Her sources had informed her about Sherlock’s sister before, obviously. She was not someone to challenge. She had to admit, from what she had heard, Eurus was smarter than her. Smarter than Sherlock. And Irene had learned a long time ago to never challenge someone smarter than yourself. Muscles really didn’t intimidate her; they weren’t the biggest sign that a person was dangerous. The weakest, scrawniest person could burn down the entire world if they knew how. And Eurus, despite being locked up on her own personal island, had managed to make men oceans away tremble with fear. Sherlock told her that her guards’ time in her cell was always carefully monitored because she could essentially brainwash people into doing whatever she wanted.

Sherlock’s head ticked up immediately when Irene muttered the name. He took in the broken tea cup on the floor and the fear on her face as she stared at her phone. From that, it took his mind less than two seconds to realize that Irene was looking at a message from his sister. Or rather, a threat.

“Show me the phone.” His voice was modulated and in control. It was a tone that says ‘don’t argue’. Usually, his demanding anything of her would not end pleasantly for him. But Irene was in a state where all she could do was lift her arm and hold the phone out for him to take as she thought about the message, replaying it in her head.

He took the device from her, keeping the hand he took it from in his larger one, squeezing her fingers. He may not be good at vocalizing feelings, but he can express himself very well physically.

He quickly read over the text and the old lyrics that Mycroft used to sing to him, out of key, floated into his head, I that am lost, oh who will find me? Deep down below the old beach tree…

Sherlock’s mind jumped back to the first time he had learned what terror felt like. A picture of Redbeard flashed through his mind, first the imaginary dog, then the little boy he had lost. For a minute, he was a curly-headed child in the long grass, running to save his best friend. He remembered how the cold wind whipped his nose until it was red, how the air smelled faintly of honeysuckles from his mother’s garden. But all he could taste was the bitter tang of dread as saliva gathered in his mouth. That was when he learned that fear had a taste.
He remembered looking down into the well and seeing the last light of the day reflecting against the top of the water. His friend’s triton hat floated to the surface, soggy and tired. He picked it up and sat by that well, staring at the sun going down.

Mycroft had found him still sitting there the next day, barefoot and shivering, and refusing to speak. His eyes were empty. He supposed that was why Mycroft decided to make him forget the event. And her. He had to fill his eyes again; he couldn’t grow up knowing what had happened. Mycroft knew that his little brother wouldn’t have been able to live with it.

Never again. She will not destroy someone I love again.

He came back from his reverie and felt something squeezing his heart, “Irene…”
The way he said her name, with such sincerity, broke through her shock and caused her to meet his gaze, “Sherlock?”

His voice was steel as he vowed to her, and himself. “She will not take you from me.”

Originally posted by gardenofelegance

Blessings Part Four (Thomas Jefferson x Reader)


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A/N-(So I wrote down a good portion of this in a notebook while wifiless in Colorado AND THEN I LOST THAT NOTEBOOK which is also the notebook that had my epic poly fic in it ugh, but anyway I wasn’t gonna post this until I got that work back, but fuck imma just re write it



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