under the kitchen sink

list of weird shit keith kogane did before joining voltron
  • ate an entire tangerine without breaking it into pieces or peeling it, just to see if he could make matt cry
  • got drunk for the first time at the age of 16 when a girl kept buying him drinks and he didn’t know how to mention he wasn’t into women so he just drank and let the girl talk until he shouted “I LIKE MEN” at threw up
  • was out with shiro and found an electric car charger and pretended to electrocute himself by touching the socket and going “ZZZZZ” which sent shiro into DadMode
  • found an empty bleach bottle, cleaned it, filled it with paint and left it under the kitchen sink. 6 months later shiro discovered and keith denied it was him-he’d honestly forgotten
  • was using a knife to cut his toe nails and accidentally lost his pinky
  • switched out the coffee in the staff room at this secondary school for decaf and watched as the students were all sent home for the day
  • accidentally threw a piece of paper that bounced off the bin and hit a student in the eye-lance mcclain never forgave him
  • held his breath for long enough to convice a kid he could live without breathing, was actually breathing the entire time
  • ran a deviantart where he just drew art of naruto/sasuke and sonic ocs
  • cried at the ending of muriel’s wedding
  • got kicked out the garrison because his teacher said “i’m sorry would you like the teach this class?” and did a better job explaining the thermodynaics of a rocket propelled vehicle breaching the planet’s atmosphere than he did
  • built a shack by hand in the middle of a desert and realised that there was a less crappy shack just a couple miles away that didn’t drip and was bigger than a box
  • managed to get electricity in the middle of a desert just so he could play guitar hero
  • shrunk his jacket in the wash but continued to wear it because shiro laughed at him
  • spent 12 months alone without any friends or family desperately searching for shiro with only the faint feeling of the blue lion for comfort
  • cried at night knowing that maybe if he’d acted different someone alive would still love him
  • built a rad rocket motorbike and painted it his jacket’s colour for the aesthetic
  • blew up a mountainside to distract a group of scientists from a random ufo crash he saw
  • met four people at said ufo crash site he would come to love as family

Someone: “Hey where do keep your garbage can?”

Me: *presses play on an old cassette tape of The Little Mermaid*

Under the sink! 
Under the sink! 
If you want to trash it, that’s where we stash it 
Under the sink!

Someone: “…”

Someone: *sigh* “I can never un-hear that, you know…”

Another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Ten: “If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”

Stiles needed to take a good long look at his life, he decided as he dug the emergency plastic seat covers out of the trunk of the Camaro.

Reason number one: he and all of his friends kept emergency plastic seat covers in their trunks so in the event of a big bad monster exploding all over them, they wouldn’t have to explain massive blood stains to the guy at the auto detailing shop.


They only made that mistake once, and Lydia spent the night in jail three counties over.

Stiles shook out the plastic with a spiteful flourish at the universe, and laid it out over the leather passenger seat, while Derek did the same for the driver’s before sliding in.

Stiles hesitated, bracing himself.

Reason number two: Stiles was far too young to always be this sore.

He groaned as he lowered himself into the car and the plastic crinkled underneath him. His knee was messed up, he knew that much without professional opinion, but he was going to hold off on an official diagnosis unless it got to the point where he couldn’t walk on it. And he was pretty sure that none of the blood soaking his khakis was actually his, so compared to the last few big faceoffs, he was doing pretty well.

But it was the soreness, the constant aches when he got up in the morning—his shoulder actually ached with the weather. His grandfather had that problem, and even his dad didn’t have as many back problems.

Stiles was twenty-eight and there were days when a bad enough thunderstorm rolled through, and all he could do was lie on the couch and pop Tylenol like candy.

At this rate he’d be using a cane at thirty.

He yawned as Derek put the car in gear and drove towards home, letting himself drift off.

Reason number three: he was always, always exhausted.

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{PART 12} I Won’t Stop You (M) // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; After the best and worst day of your life to date, you find yourself back at Jungkook’s Manor. You hope your first night there will be a quiet and uneventful one; but Jungkook has other ideas in mind.

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

Warning: This chapter contains scenes of a sexual nature.

{Part 1}// {Part 11} {Part 12} {Part 13}

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Unfaithful: Drunken Desires (Bill Skarsgård)


He had more than enough to drink.

His vision switched between normal and disoriented, he walked with a slight wobble in his step and he could not keep the drunken smile off his face.

Alex had just left with a redhead he had met that night. He said goodbye to Bill and checked to make sure his brother would be able to get home safely, to which the younger Skarsgård assured him was no issue; his shared apartment was only three blocks away.

“Double whiskey.” He said to the bartender.

The bald man nodded and began to fix his drink.

It was then that a woman around his age slid into the seat beside him. She was tall for a female, had sterling grey eyes, champagne blonde hair and wore a dark smokey eye.

Bill looked at the woman and gave her a small smile, causing her to smirk in response.

“You’re here alone?” She wondered.

He nodded, “My brother just left.”

The barman set the glass of whiskey in front of Bill before turning to fix someone else’s drinks.

She twirled the ends of her wavy, long locks and stared into his eyes, giving him the sexy smolder she had perfected over the years. “What do you say to heading somewhere too?” She pressed.

“Like?” He asked stupidly; completely wasted.

His ignorance only made her smile grow wider, “Let’s start with the bathroom.”

She stood and took his large hand in hers, pulled him off his chair and led him to the single stall restroom. He stumbled along behind her, long legs unable to function like usual.

The blonde took him into the nearest bathroom and quickly shut the door behind them. She pushed him against the wall and captured his lips roughly. He kissed her back with the same amount of passion.

Then he straightened, becoming taller than her, and lost her lips. She gave him an annoyed look, one he could not fully comprehend due to his intoxicated state.

“I have a girlfriend.” He slurred.

She quirked a brow before putting a hand on him, rubbing her smooth fingers over fabric of his black trousers. “She can’t fuck you like I can.” She promised.

The image of his lover slowly disappeared from his mind, it took too much effort to even see it in the first place. He caved.

“And how would you?” He countered, breathing beginning to rise by her actions.

She pretended to think, he was just really too easy to play with.

“I’m going to give you a blow job. Then, I’ll let you fuck me from behind against this wall.” She slapped her hand against the cold tile near his face, holding it there and leaning closer to him. “I want you to be as rough as you can be. Does she let you fuck her roughly? Would she let you take her mercilessly?” She wondered, gaze fixed nowhere but his pale eyes which darkened by the second.

“No, not always anyways. She’s not like that.” He answered, almost groaning at the way she was touching him.

She smirked, “Then let me help you.”

His gaze did not leave hers as she unzipped his pants and knelt down in front of him. Her eyes were gleaming as she took him in her mouth, causing his head to loll back against the subway tiled wall.

“Fuck.” He swore, taking a hold of her hair and guiding her deeper.

It felt good; he was enjoying her pleasuring him.

He shut his eyes and gave himself to her.

She did not want to tell her friend about what had happened, she would only begin to cry if she did.

She did not want to cry, especially not over him.

So after greeting and thanking her friend for letting her stay for however long she needed, she let herself into the guest bedroom.

She was tired, so very tired. Exhaustion took over her whole body, causing her to flop down on the bed the second she peeled off all of her clothes. Today, she was going to have a nice, deep sleep; one that was not disturbed by wondering where her boyfriend was, if he was safe and when he would be coming home.

No, she was not going to deal with that.

The moment she let her lids fall shut, sleep overcame her welcomingly.

The hot water fell from the rainfall shower head, fogging up the usually transparent glass. The air was thick with humidity, which did not relieve her breathing one bit as her boyfriend went down on her.

Her back was pressed up against the once cool glass, now coated in a sheen of mist, and her free hand desperately attempted to grasp the wall.

She glanced down at him, eyes hazy yet lustful, and found that his eyes met hers, dark and passionate as he pleasured her. He wanted to watch her as she writhed under his touch, moaned his name and fought to keep standing even though her legs were on their way to shaking violently.

He slung her left leg over his shoulder, giving himself better access to her heat as he knelt in front of her. She clutched onto his shoulder for dear life, waiting a few moments to get used to the new and far more compromising position she stood in, then finally let go; leaning her head back against the warm glass and closing her eyes.

“Bill…” She moaned, melting in his touch.

He pleasured her for a few moments longer before pulling out, placing a kiss on her and then standing; hands running up her body as he did. Those large hands stopped at her breasts, cupping them, and her eyes dazed open. They were still cloudy with desire and exhaustion, which turned him on even more. Her eyes met is and they stood like that for a second, staring at each other, neither saying a single word. Her heart pounded at his closeness, breasts heaving more quickly, which he felt and smiled at; he could make her feel this way.

“I- I love you.” She said breathlessly, looking up at his towering figure.

He slid his hands from her breasts to her neck, up until he cradled her jaw with both hands. Her eyes watched him as he went, landing on his lips before he pressed them against hers.

“I love you.” He echoed back.

Suddenly, he bent down slightly, picked her up by her thighs, and moved to the other end of the large shower; water cascaded over their bodies.

The two lovers kissed feverishly under the hot water, hair slicked back and her hands holding onto his upper back tightly for support. They were in their own world entirely, nothing mattered but them, and they kissed as if it was their last night alive.

“I want you. All of you.” She moaned in between kisses.

“Mm. You’re all I need.” He responded, entering her immediately.

Her cries were muffled by his lips.

“All I need.” He swore to her, hips rolling against hers rapidly.

A particularly hard trust had her leaning into his chest, forehead resting against his and he took a hold of her hair, pulling her back. They looked into each other’s eyes while he took her deeply.

I know.“

She woke with a start.

The memory filled her with bitterness. Clearly, she did not know.

The ring of his mobile swept him from his thoughts.

It was ‘Dad’ as the screen indicated. Shit.

He reached for his phone and pressed ACCEPT. "Hey.” He answered quietly.

“Bill! Where are you both? Is the traffic bad?” Stellan asked enthusiastically, excited to see his son and his son’s partner at the party.

It was painful to hear someone sound so delighted to hear his voice. He felt like he deserved no love, no one to care for him. He surely did not care about her whilst the blonde was on the verge of making him come.

“No, Dad we uh- won’t be making it.” He said dejectedly.

His father caught onto his son’s depressed tone.

“What happened? Are things not well between you two?” He pressed lightly.

Bill’s breath hitched in his throat, emitting a strangled sound. No, things are very unwell, and it’s all my fault.

“I messed up, Dad. I really messed up.” He cried, tears welling in his pale eyes.

“Bill… what happened?” Stellan asked, heart breaking listening to his son’s voice. No father ever wanted their child to sound so upset and troubled.

It became clear to Bill that not only was he devastated that he had lost her, he was embarrassed; embarrassed that he could not treat her in the way she deserved to be treated. He had promised to love her forever.

He hiccuped before speaking:  "I cheated on her last night.“

He looked at the ashtray on the table to his right as he waited for his father to say something and saw the cigarette remains, another reminder of how he had failed her. It was all too much for him to handle.


“She started smoking again, Dad! She stopped a year ago and she was so goddamn happy about it. I drove her to do this again. I fucking did this to her!” He grieved.

It was in that moment he realized he could not stand to look at the cigarettes beside him. It was almost as if he could picture her: alone in the dark, rain pounding against the window, the cloud of grey smoke drifting through the room. He saw her eyes, hollow and lifeless, and her fingers, loosely holding the cigarette as she lifted it to her lips, devoid of all emotion. She did this over and over again until she grew too tired to even stand.

He grabbed the ashtray and strode to the kitchen, opened the cabinet under the sink and threw the tray into the garbage bin.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Bill. I am disappointed in you.” His father scolded, yet he sounded softer than he could have been.

He sunk to the floor, hand gripping his cellphone fiercely, and sniffed.

“I know.”

“Let her be for some while… I know this will be hard on you both. Give it time.” The older and much wiser Skarsgård told him.

Bill nodded, even though his father could not see him.

After ending the call, he ambled to their bedroom- her bedroom as it had just become again, and started to pack some clothes. He decided he would listen to his father and give her the space she needed, the space she deserved.

Inheritance | Pt.4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader
hybrid!au, fluff (is it even there? who knows), smut (later later),
none?? a surprising lack of tears in this one
We get to know a bit more about dear sweet Yoongi in this next sad installment. What a time to be alive. I forgot to mention when I first posted this that this is for those anons that requested a hybrid!Yoongi !!! Here you go babies 💖

After your grandmother passed she left everything to you. Her house, her fortune, and apparently… her cat? The grumpy male hybrid you encounter at her house is anything but the tame housecat you’d expected to find. Fulfilling your grandmother’s last request to look after him becomes a lot harder when he seems to be avoiding you, and your dissatisfied relatives start stirring up trouble.

Originally posted by nevermindmyg

Masterlist || Prev. | Next

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The First Time // Lee Seokmin

the prompt: (abridged) seokmin is your new neighbor, and after a bit of bonding, the two of you carry not only romantic, but domestic feelings for each other.

words: 3375

category: fluff on fluff

author note: you had me at seokmin and domestic feel like ever time I look at dk I think of how much of a husband/boyfriend vibe he gives off and to write a whole scenario based off of that??? i am blessed. also i suck at summaries but the request was rlly long so i tried to shorten it. i also changed the ending from dinner and tv to dancing bc i had more inspiration for the latter.

- destinee

Originally posted by jongindiaries

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birthday grays?

Alright, so in honor of Tyler Hoechlin’s birthday and my headcanon that Derek’s birthday is the same day, here’s a Derek birthday fic! (also on ao3)

Stiles had originally planned to wake Derek up with a nice, long blow job. But seeing as Derek was nowhere in sight when he woke up, he had to scramble to come up with a new plan.

Rays of pale sunlight were filtering in through the blinds of Derek’s bedroom window, warming the sheets left cold by the early autumn chill and Derek’s premature departure. The sky outside was still dark, only a slender band of pale pink rising over the horizon with the sun.

A smattering of stars still lingered overhead, twinkling in the early morning light like a herald of the dawn. Soon they would be swallowed up by the sunlight but at the moment they were shining as brightly as they would in the pitch black of midnight.

The moon, nearly full, had long since set, disappearing behind the wisps of cloud hanging in the sky. The coo of a mourning dove sounded from outside, a soothing aubade to welcome the rise of the sun.

Stiles raised a hand to block out the bright sunlight as he slowly drifted into consciousness, luxuriously stretching out with a content sigh. A smirk spread over his face as he mentally patted himself on the back for his wonderful plan.

Derek would only turn thirty once and Stiles had every intention of making his boyfriend’s birthday the best he had ever had. Of course, that meant he would wake up his sourwolf with a nice blow job to start the day.

Afterwards, following some cuddling and slow, lingering kisses, Stiles would slip out of bed while Derek continued basking in his afterglow and wander downstairs to the kitchen. There, he would whip up Derek a breakfast feast fit for a king, or rather an alpha, complete with pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, and hashbrowns.

Like the wonderful boyfriend he was, he would gather up all the food and carry it upstairs to his handsome half-asleep boyfriend along with a cup of Derek’s favorite silver needle white tea. And, like the romantic sap that he was, he would also bring Derek the bouquet of flowers he had gotten him the night before; a beautiful arrangement of red roses, dahlia, and ranunculus.

Following breakfast, he would draw Derek a warm bath filled with as many bubbles as possible. He had a pack of lightly scented vanilla tealight candles tucked away under the kitchen sink so he could set the mood for Derek’s bath.

While Derek soaked in the tub, Stiles would sit on the edge of the tub and wash his hair. For whatever reason, whether it had to do with Derek being a werewolf or Derek being Derek, the alpha absolutely adored it when Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, sometimes letting out an almost feline purr low in his chest.

He would let Derek linger in the bath tub for as long as he wanted, neither of them having any other obligations to worry about until much later that evening. When Derek finally decided to leave the tub, Stiles would wrap him up in a fluffy towel warm from the dryer and lead him back to bed where they would spend the rest of the day snuggled up together doing whatever Derek wanted whether it was watch one of his nature documentaries or read one of his books or do something a little less innocent.

Both of them were off work, Derek by chance and Stiles because he had requested off so he could celebrate with Derek properly, so they had the whole day to themselves up until eight o’clock. Because at eight, they would be heading over to Stiles’ house for dinner with the pack and a few others who had been honored with invitations.

There they would gorge themselves on a nice homemade meal courtesy of Stiles and Melissa’s joint effort to make enough food to satisfy a pack of ravenous werewolves with the metabolism of hummingbirds. And after dinner, Stiles had a decadent chocolate brownie cake drizzled with a thick chocolate ganache for dessert.

He figured that over cake and glasses of Derek’s favorite red wine, Derek could open his gifts. That would inevitably take a while, mostly because of the pack’s penchant for overindulging where gift giving was concerned.

Hell, just a month ago on his own birthday, Stiles had left his dad’s house an entirely new wardrobe, various little trinkets, movies and CDs, and a wallet full of myriad gift cards. Oddly enough, Peter was the worst offender. He had a strange affinity for showing his affection through weird, though strangely very meaningful, gifts.

After that, Stiles had plans that strayed as far from innocent and family friendly as possible. He had a bowl of fresh strawberries along with some melted chocolate and a tub of whipped cream hidden in the back of the refrigerator at the loft.

He didn’t plan on leaving their bed for days, until they had finished the chocolate and whipped cream he intended to lick off of Derek’s unfairly toned abs, until neither of them could get it up again, werewolf stamina be damned.

He had spent weeks carefully formulating his plan, debating whether or not he should try for something more adventurous like a short road trip or a sex-nic in the preserve or stick to something more domestic. He had asked Boyd and Erica and his dad for their input and wound up with more questions than answers: Boyd had suggested he do something subtly romantic, Erica had frankly urged him to break out some sex toys and try something kinkier than usual, and his dad had simply told him to follow his gut.

So, with the help of the internet and his own extensive knowledge of what Derek enjoyed on his days off, Stiles had carefully constructed his plan. Hell, he had even jotted it all down in one of his notebooks so he wouldn’t forget anything.

All in all, he thought his plan was a rather good one. But it was pretty hard to put it into action when Derek wasn’t in bed.

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anonymous asked:

Are you looking for a little?

Why…. did you lose one?

Activate the gps chip in her stuffie. She’s probably in the cabinet under the kitchen sink eating Oreos

For Day 1 of @voltronwhumpweek2017

Prompt: Fever

Ship: Pre-Klance 

Setting: College AU 

Exhaustion is a heavy weight around Keith’s shoulders. Between classes, work and baseball, sleep is a luxury he can’t seem to afford often. At most, he gets around four hours of sleep a night. He can hear Shiro’s clipped, worried tone grating in the back of his mind and telling him how unhealthy and dangerous that is, but what’s a guy to do? 

Professional baseball is his goal, has always been since Shiro first gave him a baseball when he was eight. But, staying on the team means keeping his grades up; plus, some scouts don’t only look at his playing. Some will dive deeper into the world of academics to see which players can properly balance school work and sports. 

Keith is determined to be that player; he’s determined to be the athlete that every scout desires. So, if he loses sleep because of this, then so be it. He’ll manage. 

At least, he thought he would manage. 

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Things Can Only Get Better Part 2 - Dirge

Slow Burn! Steve Harrington/Reader                                                                                     Word Count: 1416


A/N - this chapter is slightly more rushed than I’d prefer, but the fic is so far ahead of this that I just rolled with it. Requests are still open, here *and* on AO3, under the same username.

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Lingerie On Hold

Alo! Based on this post: https://illesty.tumblr.com/post/159294806401/klance-sickfic-prompt-spicy-night (And yes I still suck in linking stuff and shit and shut up, let me live) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand….that’s it. 

Content: Lance in lingerie? Klance. Modern Au. They are fiances bc I say so. Sick fic. Sick Lance. 

This is for you, so like take it, burn it, I dunno @kaxpha​ hope you like it tho!! 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. Prompt doesn’t belong to me. 

Three days.

Lance has three days to prepare the most romantic evening until Keith gets back from his business trip and celebrate their anniversary.

He has everything planned out and the brunet is quite pleased with it, the plan being creative and romantic at the same time, the perfect combination if he say so himself.

Spicy. He forgot spicy. That’s the bonus.

Lance hums happily along the song in the background as he taps his foot against the floor and keeps writing on the small notebook on the coffee table.

He writes something and then erases. He re-writes over some of the already written words and even add some more at the end of a few sentences with another pen with a different color.

The list is a mess, but it’s so detailed that Lance can’t wait to try it out and bring it to life.

With one last hum, Lance spares a quick glance to the clock in his cellphone screen and grins excitedly as he realizes that his video call with Keith is about to begin.

He opens his laptop and not two second later, his webcam light comes to life and he has an incoming call.

Lance smile widens as he accepts the call.

“Hi, mi amor!”

Two days.

That’s how long he has to put his plan in place.

Lance makes a small excited dance when he thinks about it as he walks down the aisle of tin cans, reaching for the tomato sauce before walking further down.

He grips his notebook tight as he reads through it. The list Hunk gave him for grocery shopping was simple enough, and his best friend knew him well enough to know what brand he would like and still be the tastier one out there.

Lance puts a small cross at the end of the Tomato Sauce’s section on the notebook before he moves towards the pasta aisle.

He taps his fingers in thought as he stares at the two options before him.

There’s the spaghetti, penne, fusilli and farfalle pasta. The names make him frown in confusion and he pouts when he realizes Hunk didn’t specified what kind of pasta was better for the recipe.

With a shrug, Lance picks a box of each of them.

One day.

One day until Keith comes home and Lance has everything ready.

‘Well’, He thinks as he looks down at the check list on his notebook, ‘Almost everything.’

The only thing remaining unchecked was the Spicy Clothes 4 The Night (side note: make it purple.)

Lance grins to himself as he sees his own note before he tucks in the small paper into his pants and grabs his keys, ready to hit the mall.

He knows just the store to buy what he needs.

Today is the day.

Lance groans against his pillow as the pounding in his head increases when he tries to open his eyes and the sun’s rays hit him straight in the face.

His shirt is wet and sticky against his chest, his nose is stuffed, his eyes won’t open entirely and his muscles feel like jelly. His bones ache, his stomach is rolling unpleasantly at the slightest touch and his breath is hoarse and shallow.

A shower, he decides. He just needs a shower and he will be new as good.

After a one hour shower Lance realizes he was not good as new.

He wasn’t even good as ‘used’ merchandise.

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Play With Me (Vernon/Hansol Smut)

Summary: It’s not your fault that he was just so pretty. And that he begged so prettily. And that he looked so damn pretty with a piece of leather wrapped around his throat. Why did being Seventeen’s stylist mean he was off limits? And to think, this all started on a boring night with a gifted bottle of wine a pile of jenga blocks. Smut.

(A/N: I must say that I got a little carried away. The original request from @ciels-parents did not entail anywhere near as much shit as this. But I’m pleased with the outcome. I guess the reason I added all the other stuff is because one of my favourite things about dom/sub relationships is all the pretty things, like the toys and the lingerie and shit. I could be a little just for that. But that’s waaay off topic. There’s so many warnings here; anal play, rimming mention, noona kink, sex toy(s), collaring, lingerie, subspace, praise kink, if that even counts as a warning?? but okay this is ten thousand words of impure filth so please back down if you’re not ready. I would also like to put forth now that I’m not responsible for any of the after effects of this fic, and happy valentine’s day, this is my present to you. -Tanisha<3)

You were, at best, a glorified babysitter. It was the only way to describe the current state of your job without leaving out any of the details. Somehow, you had started out as what you fully intended to be - a stylist. Straight out of high school you jumped head first into a fashion program, gaining all the sewing, finance, pattern making, fabric skills and whatever else you could have ever dreamed of.

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Of Course I Believe in Magic (Newt x Muggle!Reader)

Originally posted by teacup-occamy

Request:  Hello! I’m a big fan from Portugal and I want to do a request! Could you please do a Newt X Muggle!Reader? Like, she believes in magic and she’s investigating (She’s a detective) the Goldenstein sisters, and when Newt appears, she starts being a little less careful and Newt notice her. And he watches her while she watches him. Then he ask her to go out with him, and the date is super cute and he tells her he’s a wizard and she tells him she’s a detective. - @cecesunshine-fanfictions

This was a suuuper cool and original idea and I apologize it took me a while to write


L/N: Last name

When you were ten years old, you witnessed what appeared to be an average woman pull what looked like a twig out of her pocket, mutter something under her breath, and before you could process what happened, she had vanished into thin air.  Of course you had heard stories when you were younger about wizards and fairies and dragons.  Most kids stopped believing in that kind of stuff as they got older, but you weren’t ‘most kids’.  Deep down you felt that magic was all around you, but you just couldn’t see it with your own two eyes.  But when you saw that woman disappear in an abandoned alleyway, it was enough to confirm your suspicion that wizards and witches did exist, and looked just like your average person.  You were curious as to how wizards and witches got their powers.  Can anybody become a wizard?  Or did you have to be born one?  Is there some magic wizarding school hidden from average human eyes?  Whatever it was, you were determined to find out.

**Fourteen years later, age 24**

Fourteen years later, here you are.  A detective living in New York City, one of the busiest and most crowded places in America.  Not your stereotypical detective that wore a trenchcoat, totally not-suspicious sunglasses, and a fedora or deerstalker hat.  You preferred to blend in with everyone else.  You figured that there just had to be some wizards living in America.  About a month ago, you had become curious with a pair of sisters.  After a few days of what some would consider stalking, you had discovered that their names were Tina and Queenie Goldstein.  Queenie was the bubbly blonde-haired sister, you would usually always find her wearing some shade of pink.  Tina was the more stern dark-haired sister.  Using your context clues you had determined that Tina must be the eldest.  Aside from their physical appearance, what really fueled your suspicion was one morning you made the bold decision to follow the sisters wherever they were going.  You stayed about twenty feet behind them as to not stir up any suspicion from them.  Eventually you saw them enter the Woolworth Building on Broadway.  You followed behind them; but when you entered the building, they were nowhere to be seen.  

You went home that night and thought about it.  Maybe the building acts as an entirely different place for wizards if they use some sort of spell, you thought.  

**Two weeks later**

You hadn’t really made any groundbreaking discoveries on the Goldstein sisters the past two weeks, but today got you a little curious.  While standing near a lamppost on the street the Goldstein’s apartment building is on, you saw the two of them enter the building with two men.  You found this to be very out of the ordinary, as the Goldstein’s apartment building was females-only. One was shorter in stature, with dark hair and a mustache.  The other was more tall and lanky and appeared to be in his twenties.  He had cinnamon colored, curly hair and was wearing a bright blue coat.  You didn’t have that great of a view, but you could tell his face seemed to be littered with freckles.  In his hand he was gripping a brown leather case.  

He was the last to go in, and you, not realizing you were staring, caught him looking straight at you for a brief moment before following the others inside.  You were sort of embarrassed that he had caught you staring, but you had to admit:  he was pretty cute.


Over the next few weeks, you kept seeing the blue-coated curly-haired man around the city.  You never got too close to him, as you feared that there was a possibility he was catching onto your spying habits on the Goldsteins.  Yet you also wanted to talk to him and get to know who exactly he was.  (Oh, and french kiss him.  He looks like he tastes like pastries or somethin like that).  Next Friday, however, was different.


You weren’t doing anything involving the Goldsteins today.  You’ve been taking a break all week.  You were walking down the busy street holding a steaming cup of coffee, when the Gods decided to make it rain.  Hard.  You didn’t have an umbrella to use, so instead you tightly wrapped your coat around your body and began to walk as fast as you could in your heeled boots to get back to your apartment.  

You sharply turned a corner only to bump right into a man.  You looked up and was shocked to see who it was.  It was the attractive curly-haired man.

“Oh–uh–I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment before I get soaked–” you rambled on.

The man chuckled, before opening an umbrella over the two of you.  (It’s your average muggle umbrella).  “I see that.  I’ve been seeing you around the city lately, but I haven’t gotten the chance to speak with you.  Can I walk you back to your apartment?  It’s freezing and wet out here, I don’t want you to get drenched and catch a cold,  I could imagine you’d like some company.”

He was British!  That just made you attracted to him even more.  You were grateful for his kind offer, and especially for the umbrella that protected you from the ungodly weather.  You were pretty positive that he wasn’t a rapist or some shit.  He was just too adorable.  “I’d appreciate that very much, thank you.  Oh!  I’m Y/N, by the way.  Y/N L/N.”

He smiled.  “I’m Newton Scamander, but everyone calls me Newt.”

The trek back to your apartment took about fifteen minutes.  You and Newt made small talk, about little things, like hobbies, why Newt was visiting America, stuff like that.  You never brought up the Goldsteins so you didn’t sound creepy, you actually wanted to get to know this guy.  However, you found out that Newt was actually in the middle of writing a book, but he didn’t tell you what exactly it was about.  He said he was visiting America because there was something here that he needed to study for his book.  It sounded a bit suspicious, but hey, for all you know he could actually be an undercover agent.  

Or a wizard.


You arrived at the door to your apartment.  

“Thank you, Newt, for walking me home on such short notice.”  You smiled to show your gratitude.

“It was my pleasure.  I’m glad I finally got to talk to you, I’ve been too shy to actually approach you,” Newt responded, a cute smile appearing on his freckled face.

“I guess me running into you was fate, huh?”

He chuckled.  “Well, I should probably get back to where I’m staying.”

You frowned.  “At least come in for a cup of tea before you leave, in return for walking me home.”

Newt seemed very happy with the idea.  “I’d love to.”

At the end of your little two-person tea party, Newt had something important to ask you.

“Y/N, I know we’ve only really known each other for about an hour, but you’re more intriguing than any girl I’ve met the past ten years.  So I have to ask, would you care to go on a date with me tomorrow at Central Park?”

You nodded happily.  “Yes, of course I would!”

“Perfect.  I’ll be here tomorrow at six?”  Newt’s huge smile remained on his face.

“Sounds lovely.  Now you should really be getting home, it’s getting really dark.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine.”


All throughout the next day you were giddy with excitement for your date with Newt.  You were grateful that Central Park wasn’t a particularly fancy place, thus making it a lot easier for you to choose your outfit.  

You glanced at the clock.  It was 5:58PM.  Newt should be here any minute.  You pulled on your heeled boots (you had basically mastered walking in them) and your warm winter coat.  You looked at the clock one more time just as the hand turned from 5:59PM to 6:00PM.  There was a knock at the door.  Man’s got impressive timing.  

You checked your hair one last time in the mirror next to the door and coat rack before opening the door to see a handsome Newt standing there with a single rose in hand.  He was dressed in his usual attire, but damn did he look sexy in it.  “Good evening, Miss L/N,” Newt said in his beautiful British accent before handing you the rose.  

You carefully took the rose as to not get blood on your coat and inhaled it’s sweet scent.  “Why thank you, Mister Scamander.  Come in for a minute, I’ll find somewhere to put this rose.”  

Newt stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him.  You bustled around in the small kitchen and found an unused vase under the sink.  You put some water in it and placed the rose inside before setting it in the middle of the coffee table in your sitting room.  

As you were doing this, Newt spoke up.  “Y/N, you look beautiful.”

You looked up at him and felt your cheeks heat up.  “Aw thank you, Newt.  You look quite handsome yourself.”  Newt blushed as well.  “Shall we get going?”

“I believe we shall,” answered Newt as you linked your hands together and left your apartment.


Central Park wasn’t too far from your apartment, maybe two blocks over.  It was cold outside, but when you were with Newt the weather didn’t seem to bother you that much anymore.  You both walked down the paths and admired the icicles hanging from the bare trees and the frozen fountain.  You talked mainly about life and past relationships, which it turned out that neither of you had had many.  

When it started to get darker, you could see the beautiful colored lights that lit up the whole of New York City.  Your legs were starting to get weak from doing so much walking in your boots, so you pulled Newt over to the nearest bench that happened to overlook the trees and gave you a perfect view of the setting Sun.  You pressed yourself against Newt’s side and lay your head on his shoulder, much to his surprise.  Not that he was complaining, he loved the affection.  

“Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Newt nodded.  “Absolutely.  I’ve heard stories of this city, but getting to actually be here is incredible.”  

“I’ve always wanted to go to England.  It sounds amazing,” you said.  

Newt chuckled.  “If you like clouds and rain at least half of the week. You’ll definitely love it.”  

You two sit there, in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence as you watch the Sun set behind the skyscrapers and the silver Moon rise.  

Suddenly, Newt broke the silence with his soft and beautiful™ voice.  “Y/N… I know this is completely out of context, but… do you believe in magic?”

You took your head off his shoulder to look him in the eyes.  You scoffed.  “Of course I believe in magic.  It makes living in this cruel world a whole lot easier if you believe that wizards exist and unicorns live.”

“Alright, that’s a relief.  But you might think I’m insane after I tell you this-”

You cut him off.  “That you’re a wizard?”

Newt stared at you blankly, eyes growing large.  “What?  How on EARTH did you know?  Are you a witch too?”

You looked taken aback.  “I was right!?  I knew I had a fifty-fifty chance oh wow this is amazing!  Are Tina and Queenie Goldstein also witches?  Please tell me they are.”

Newt looked even more surprised.  “Yes, they are.  You know them?”

You shrugged.  “Eh… not really.  I’m a detective, you see.  I’ve dedicated the past decade to try and find proof that there is in fact a wizarding world out there.  When I was ten I could’ve sworn I saw a woman use a wand or something and then suddenly she disappeared.”

“What you saw was an apparation spell.  It’s what wizards and witches use to get around quickly,”  Newt replied, still in shock.

“So wands are real, too!?” you sounded like an excited child on Christmas morning.

Newt reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick.  More accurately, a wand.  “Lumos,” he said, and the tip of the wand illuminated.  You stared at it in awe.

“Are wizards even allowed to tell regular people that they’re magical?”  you asked.

“The wizarding laws in the United States are different than in the United Kingdom.  In the United States it’s forbidden to be in a relationship with someone non-magical, but in the United Kingdom it’s legal.  There’s an obliviation spell, it makes a non-magical person such as yourself forget anything they ever saw that was magical.”

The color drained from your face.  Newt noticed.  “Oh, love, don’t worry!  I’m not going to use it on you.”

“Oh thank God.  This is all so incredible to me.  It’s so much to take in…”

Newt smiled.  “I’ll tell you everything soon, I promise.  And do you remember the rose I gave you?”

You nodded, confused as to how it was significant in this conversation.

“I enchanted it.  It will never die.”

“You just keep amazing me, Newt,” you replied and kissed his cheek.  “Did you really trust me enough to tell me that you’re a wizard?  Especially since it’s illegal here apparently.”

You could see Newt’s blush through the light of his wand tip.  “Y/N, I know we just formally met yesterday, but I feel more attracted to you than I have been to anybody, ever.  I don’t usually care for people that much, I mainly spend time with my magical creatures and beasts-” he noticed that you were about to interrupt and cut you off- “we’ll talk about them later.  There’s something about you that I’ve never seen in a human before.  I could sense you were very close to the magical world.  Not to mention your beauty and kindness…” he trailed off.

“Good lord you are just a complete sweetheart, aren’t you?”  you exclaimed.  Newt’s cheeks were blazing red.  You leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a sweet and chaste kiss.  Suddenly you felt something twig-like brush your neck, causing you to pull away in fear and confusion.

Newt groaned.  “Pickett!  You little bugger!  I thought I told you to stay in the workshop!”  Newt pulled a green stick-looking creature out of his breast pocket and placed it on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Y/N.  This is Pickett, he’s a Bowtruckle with some attachment issues, he basically lives in my pocket.

“Is this one of your magical creatures you mentioned?  He’s very cute,” you said, admiring Pickett with curiosity.  

Newt nodded.  “Yes.  I have so many more… I think they’ll all really like you.  But there’s no way they could love you as much as I do.”  Newt leaned in for another kiss, hand on your waist.

This was sure to be the start of something a m a z i n g.

Please let me know what you thought of it!

Tags: @just-a-bit-odd @allyadarth @namelesslosers @amazing-fandom-freak @tomthestuntmanfelton

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When You Are Close, I Am Gone
The Saddest Landscape & My Fictions
When You Are Close, I Am Gone

The Saddest Landscape & My Fictions - When You Are Close, I Am Gone

We are all scared. We are all stuck. Dreaming of better days that will never come.

We will always find new ways to let each other down. New ways to scare ourselves. So if this is what you hold onto I will protect it. We burn with friendly fire. 

I Don’t Know What I’d Do Without You (Avengers X Fem!Reader)

Characters: Avengers X Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Self conscious reader, teasing


Request: Can you do a female reader, where she feels as if she isn’t worthy enough to be in the avengers, she feels as if she’s the odd one out. Nat overhears her talking to her friend on the phone about thinking about leaving and she gets the others to convince her she is worthy?

Originally posted by netflixruinedmylifeimagines

Originally posted by ranrightintomyheart

Originally posted by fangirl-porn

Originally posted by superwholockpotterhead

Looking at the team known as the Avengers, you had: Two Super soldiers from the second world war, one of which has a metal arm, a Brainiac who makes metallic suits which can withstand a beating, and even made one for his friend, artificial intelligence made by the Brainiac, an assassin trained since birth, another assassin who never misses his shot, a man with mechanical wings a doctor who can turn into a giant green monster who can probably throw a plane when he gets pissed off, a twin pair of super enhanced twins which can move things with her mind and her brother who has super speed, and a literal God… oh, and you, a simple agent.

Keep reading


Credence Barebone ~ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Originally posted by perryskeet

You love Credence and want him to have a better life.

Requested by: My soul

Written by: Head Honcho

Warning: Long, mentions of abuse

AN: My bb boi needs love


You let out a deep breath as you take a seat on the sofa in your living room. After a long day, it’s good to snuggle up with a book to forget about all the problems or rude people you’ve encountered in the last twenty-four or fewer hours.

Right when you’re getting to the part in the book where the main character meets her prince charming, there is a knock at your apartment’s door. A normal person would question why someone would be at their door at this ungodly hour while you let out a sigh of relief.

You rush towards the door, tieing your silk robe shut knowing how easily flustered he gets at the simplest of sleepwear. You open it and there he is, Credence Barebone, in all his… glory.

“(Y/N)…” His voice is weak as he keeps his head low.

“Credence.” You keep your own voice soft. “Would you like to come in?” You step aside and gesture him in.

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A/N: Some sexual themes

Originally posted by spderman

Matt Murdock x Reader

You spent a few minutes stirring to fully awaken yourself. The soft sheets are tangled up in your legs and around your bare body. It’s too quiet for someone to be laying beside you. 

With a small groan, you stretch out your legs and your arms, wincing in discomfort. You could feel the soreness between your legs before even sitting up and despite the little blossoms of pain the feeling is rather fun. 

Fun because you know where that pain came from and who so lovingly bestowed it. You slowly pull yourself out of bed. Looking down at your self, you see the hicky marks trailing down your chest and on your hip bones. You know there are probably more that you can’t see like this. 

You pull the door open with a creak and step out to the living room. There is rain thundering down outside and the neon sign is just barely glowing under the cloudy, dark sky. 

Matt is in the kitchen with the sink running. He turns it off and cocks his head. “Good morning,” he smiles. He isn’t wearing his glasses. 

“Good morning,” you say through a half smile. “Something funny?” he asks, though he’s still smiling, running his hands through a dish towel. 

“Nothing. It’s just that this is a nice thing to be waking up to.”

“Miss [Y/n], are you flirting with me?”

You pluck up a folded white shirt from the sofa. You can tell he cleaned up and set clothes out before you woke up. Because when you stumbled in last night, you made a huge mess; falling over furniture, ferociously tearing clothes off. You slip it over your head and laugh. “Yes, Murdock, I am.” 

You cross over the room and meet his open arms. He kisses you swifly, his fingers grazing your chin and your jaw. “You know how to kiss,” you breathe against his mouth. 

“So do you,” he says. Matt kisses the corner of your mouth. “I hope that you like French toast,” he adds. You ruffle your hair. “Yeah, I love it. Did you make all of this?” you ask with awe. There’s plates set out and stacked with warm French toast and powdered sugar, a mug of cocoa piled high with whipped cream and shaved chocolate, and the world’s sexiest lawyer standing beside you in sweats that are hanging dangerously low on his hips. 

“No, Foggy picked it up for me,” Matt admitted. You both laugh. “Lunch on the couch?” he offers. 


“Oh, yeah, it’s around 2 in the afternoon.”

You rub your forehead. “I don’t usually sleep this late. But then again I don’t stay up all night having…”

You trail off. Matt smiles and shakes his head. “Please feel free to go on,” he teases. You elbow him in the ribs. “Having the best sex I ever have,” you continue. You can feel the bashful heat bubble in your cheeks. “Come on,” you quickly say, “I’ll take these.”

After carrying the delicious looking brunch platter to the living room, you and Matt plop down on the sofa. 

“Was it really?” Matt asks you a few minutes later.

“Mmm, really what?” You wipe whipped cream off of your lip. 

“The best sex you’ve had.” 

You can’t help but laugh a bit too loud in embarrassment. “I mean-yeah. Yeah it was. If I’m being totally honest, that is.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Matt chuckles. “I am flattered that you say that.”

You take another drink of your hot chocolate. “And what about you? Was it good for you?”

Matt touches your thigh with a calloused hand. He rubs his thumb in circles along your inner thigh, curling his fingers into the hem of your shirt. “I felt like I was looking at stars. I felt like galaxies were exploding in my blood. Like the sun was putting all of its energy into my heart. And I held your beautiful, beautiful body in my hands and it felt like I was holding the sun.”

You let out a small huff of air, a breath you were holding in as you awaited his reply. It was by far the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you. 

Matt moved his hand away and carefully drew his plate towards his lap to eat. 

“I’ve never had a better time,” he elaborates for you after comfortable silence passes. “And I’m…I’m glad it was with you.”

The corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile. “I’m glad it was with you, too.”