whatever i still don't know what to call it. leave me

The Guest House

Originally posted by beui


Description: Yoongi the hostel owner slowly develops a rapport with a girl and her friends that keep visiting.  Maybe a bit of a flirtatious one.  Maybe even a little crush.  One night he gets protective on a date gone bad and it leads to smut.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: So, basically, this is based off an experience I had last week. Not the smut part (ughhhhh), but the whole hostel owner coming to save the day when this dude just wouldn’t get the hint and leave. I relayed the experience to @ellieljade , because I needed her to die with me, and we both decided it should be used for smut fuel. Like grown adults. 

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Mi Amor

 Daveed Diggs x Latina!Reader

Requested by anon: Hi. It’s the anon who asked about the Latina reader here. I was wondering if you’d do like where Daveed and the reader are really good friends but Lin knows she has a crush on him and he’s teasing her about it but daveed overhears them mention him and doesn’t understand them cause they’re talking in Spanish. He asked her about it or something and then fluff or smut! I don’t know…. Your other fics are amazing so I know this one will be to die for no matter what! Gracias!! ❤❤

Words: 3,675

Warnings: Swearing and SMUTTT. A LOT OF IT idk what else you want from me ahahaha

A/N: This was SO FUN to write but Idk I’m sorry if this was so bad lol I THINK I’VE OFFICIALLY MADE THE SINNERS CLUB LOLOL OKOKOK

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When You Fail To Be

I blame you entirely @kaxpha I take no responsibility.

…. Y u hurt me dude.

Anyways. Here it is, chapter 1. Lance and Shiro angst + broganes angst + KLANCE angst + ….Just angst all around, yo.

Um…So yeah, hope you like??? It’s also on Ao3 on my same name. It’s the second part of the Human Healing Pod Au.

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. Human Healing Pod Au doesn’t belong to me.

——————————

Shiro frowns exasperated as he catches Lance’s blue glowing light from the corner of his eye.

It’s been a few weeks since their last group training took place with Lance’s new healing powers. The brunet insisted that he had the hang of it, being able to work through the process on small injuries without getting dizzy after it.

Lance had reassure Shiro that he will continue training on his own but Shiro had just pursed his lips, not convinced in the least. After a few minutes arguing, Shiro finally agreed to Lance’s plan but only if the brunet had someone with him during his training sessions, something that Lance had grudgingly agreed to along with a few more conditions.

One week later and Lance was already breaking one of their conditions.

“That boy, I swear.” Shiro mumbles, making his way towards Lance as the brunet places his hands over the alien refugee they just saved in today’s mission, his blue eyes falling into a vivid glow entirely in less than a tick, “Hey, I said no more healing today, Lance. You –“

It was just a light pull. Shiro placed his Galra arm over the brunet’s shoulder and pull just enough break apart the contact between him and the alien’s wound and suddenly there was screaming.

Agonized and pained screaming echoes around them and Shiro just stares in horror as Lance shakes and continues to scream in his arms, his glowing eyes getting brighter before losing their light and then being bright once again.

“Lance!” Shiro shouts startled, “Lance, buddy, what’s wrong¡?” He yells in panic, making sure to hold the teen tight against him as he continues to scream and then –

Then Lance sighs, eyes rolling to the back of his head, losing their blue glow, and he goes limp on Shiro’s arms, mouth hanging open in a silent scream and Shiro’s heart skips a beat at the sight.

“L-Lance?” He whispers softly, voice cracking, “Buddy?”

“LANCE!” Keith’s voice echoes in panic and urgency, “Lance¡? Shiro, what happened¡? LANCE!”

“H-He’s not breathing.” Shiro gasps, a cold shiver running through his spine, “H-he’s not –“

Lance’s suddenly taken away from him by a pair of red armored hands. Shiro blinks in panic and confusion for a moment before he raises his head and stares at Keith as the black haired teen cradles Lance’s body against his.

“Lance, baby, hey, come on, come on, this is not funny, Lance, please.” Keith mumbles, his free hand gently patting Lance’s cheek in hopes of getting a reaction, “L-Lance, baby, please, please, no. Hey! Come on, you promised! Lance!”

Everything’s a blur for Shiro after that. Keith’s screams and pleads echo inside him, mixing themselves with Lance’s screams along with Hunk’s sobs and the image of Pidge’s scared face. Barely noticing when Coran makes his way towards them and takes Lance from Keith’s arms, followed by the blurry image of Hunk holding Keith back as he trashes and screams wildly when Lance is taken away from him.

He doesn’t even notice Allura’s presence until she whispers his name against his ear and he snaps out of it. He blinks hard and takes the surroundings around him. He’s in Allura’s room, lying down on her bed, facing the ceiling in disorientation and confusion.

“Wha –“ Shiro mumbles softly, “What.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Take it easy.” Allura whispers gently, stroking his hair, “It’s alright.”

“What happened?” Shiro asks in a daze, eyes groggy and tired before they snap wide open as he remembers Lance’s limp weight on his arms, “Lance. What happened to Lance? Allura?”

“You killed him, that’s what happened.” Shiro freezes at the cold harsh voice that answers him and slowly turns his head to the side to meet his little brother’s glare.

“Keith!” Allura snaps, sighing in exasperation as if it wasn’t the first time she has scolded the teen.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” Keith snaps back, frowning and glaring angrily.

Allura stays quiet and Shiro’s blood turns cold.

“Allura?” He asks in a small voice and Allura shakes her head.

“He died for a few ticks but we were able to get him back.” Allura answers, her shoulders tense and her voice tired, “But it wasn’t anyone’s fau –“

“No. It was Shiro’s. It was Shiro who made Lance push himself in every training session knowing the danger. It was Shiro who made Lance feel like he needed to push and push and push himself more every time. It’s because of Shiro that Lance has dark bags and swollen red eyes and is tired all the time. It was Shiro –It was Shiro who broke the connection and caused Lance’s heart to stop.”

One, two, three beats and then –

“What?” Shiro breaths out, slowly sitting up on the bed and waving away Allura’s complaints, “What? What does that – What?

“Keith.” Allura says calmly but with an edge of warning in her tone, “Stand down.”

“Whatever.” Keith mumbles, scoffing and sending Shiro a dark glare before turning around and walking towards the exit, leaving behind a frozen Shiro.

“What.” Shiro whispers, “What?”

“Shiro –“

“Keith, no, wait!” Shiro ignores Allura’s words as he climbs down the bed and follows his brother with wobbly but fast steps, “Keith Kogane Shirogane, come back her –!”

Keith turns around sharply and Shiro takes a surprised step back at the furious snarl on his kid brother’s face.

“Don’t call me that.” Keith whispers with menace, “I want nothing to do with you, you hear me? Nothing.”

“Keith –“ Shiro stops as Keith suddenly crashes against him, barely dodging the fist that was aimed for his face, “Keith!” He repeats, grabbing Keith by the arms and keeping him still.

“You damn son of a –! It was your fault! You and your stupid rules! You and – and – God, I hate you, Ifucking hate you!” Keith screams, fist hitting the young adult on the chest, “You fucking – I fucking hate –“

“Buddy –“

“You didn’t protect him!” Keith screams, still trashing and kicking against Shiro’s hold on his arms, “You didn’t protect him! You promised and you didn’t –! You just let him die in your arms! You just stood there as he died and –! Fuck!”

“Keith, please –“ Shiro rasps out brokenly but Keith shakes his head, taking a step back from his older brother, shrugging his hold.

“No. No. He died, Shiro. My – Lance died and I – I couldn’t – And –“ A sudden abrupt sob escapes his mouth and suddenly Keith falls to the ground, sobs shaking his entire body, “I –I –I didn’t know what – And you were – You looked so hopeless as you held him and I couldn’t – I fucking lost it –“

“Keith.” Shiro mumbles, his heart breaking for his little brother but the teen just continues to sob on the ground in the middle of the hallway.

“I-I’m sorry, fuck – I’m sorry, Shiro – I know it wasn’t – wasn’t your fault but –“ Keith presses the palm of his hands hard against his eyes in hopes to stop the flowing tears, “It was mine. It was my fault – And I slash out at you and I’m – He was dead, god , he wasDEAD, SHIRO!”

Shiro doesn’t hesitates and then he’s on the floor, wrapping his arms around his little brother as the teen shakes with sobs, still mumbling incoherently against his brother’s chest and Shiro takes no mind as snot and tears mix themselves on his shirt.

He just holds his brother, tight and strong, and sucks in a deep breath to stop his own tears from falling.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs under his breath against Keith’s wild hair, “I’m so sorry, little brother.”

Allura just stands quietly on the corner, watching with sad eyes as the brothers sit on the floor, holding each other. She turns then, giving them their privacy before she enters the first room down the opposite hall.

Her footsteps are soft as she walks towards the bed on the corner of the room. The room is dark and quiet, for the exception of the hard panting breathing coming from the bed.

Allura takes a seat on the start of the bed, near Lance’s face, and watches sadly as the brunet rasps out harsh breaths through his mouth, unable to fill his lungs properly.

“Hush, now, it’s okay, Lance. It’s okay.” She mumbles gently, brushing Lance’s wet hair back as the the brunet whimpers inconsolably, “Sh, asteráki. You’re alright.”

She stays there for a while, humming under her voice to calm the brunet down and whispering comfort words as he whimpers and whines unconsciously.

Allura losses track of the time but suddenly, the door opens once again and she meets Shiro’s wide scared eyes at the edge of the door.

“Shiro.” She calls softly and frowns when the leader of Voltron doesn’t knowledge her calling, his gray eyes solemnly placed on the shivering brunet on the bed, “Shiro, love.”

One, two, three steps back out of shock and then Shiro’s running out of the room. 

anonymous asked:

PROMPT: D & P somehow get into a debate over who is kinkier in bed. Phil says something like 'Just because you have 5 vibrators doesn't make you more kinky. And yes. I know you have them. I hear the buzzing at two am bc I'm a heavy sleeper but you don't know how to be quiet' then cue rough sex

Warning!! Smut: Top! Phil, daddy kink, degradation, dirty talk, vocal Dan, bantz, dom! Phil, coming untouched (twice), coming in pants (once), etc.


~Thinking about it, Dan was almost positive him and Phil had rarely ever had a proper, real argument. It was usually about silly things when they did; anime, editing, memes, etc. Then when they did have an actual fight, it always resulted in them both crying and saying sorry. This time it was different, this wasn’t a real argument, this was leading into territory that hadn’t ever really gone too before.

~Dan and Phil had been joking around, sat in their lounge talking mindlessly about something, tossing back and forth a small bouncy ball they found and laughing. Dan was a lousy throw, missed, and hit Phil in the eye. To which, Phil replied with, “Kinky.”

~Dan snorted slightly and shrugged. “Nah kinky would be if I had called you daddy and threw it at you acting like a pissed off toddler.” He said pointedly, catching the ball and throwing it back. “I guess you’re right. I guess you aren’t as kinky as me then.” He said mostly to joke, throwing the ball back before seeing Dan raise an eyebrow.

~Dan gave him a questioning look, shaking his head before throwing the ball back to him. “Yeah I highly doubt that you’re kinkier than me, Lester.” He challenged, to which Phil smirked in response. “Just because you have like five vibrators doesn’t mean you’re kinkier than me.”

~Dan felt his ears turn red, looking away and blushing, not commenting back. “Yes I know you have them. I’m no idiot, I can hear the buzzing at like two AM. Or at least I would be able too if you knew how to stay quiet.” He chuckled softly, seeing Dan turn even more red.

~Dan finally looked up, shrugging. “I’ve always been vocal. I just figured you’d be asleep by then..” He trailed off, looking away again and blushing once more. “Dan, I’ve been your best friend for years and you still don’t know I’m never asleep at 2 am?” Phil laughed softly.

~Dan shrugged again, trying to brush it all off and play it cool. “I’m still kinkier than you fuck off.” He attempted to change the subject. “I don’t believe that for a second. Just because you moan like  bitch in heat doesn’t mean you’re kinky, or good in bed.” He smirked.

~Dan gave him an offended look, glaring a bit. “Shut up!” He threw a pillow at him from the couch. “Im plenty good in bed, and far kinkier than you could even dream of being.” He said, to which Phil instant denied. “Yeah no. I would ask for proof, but I don’t feel like being disappointed.” He teased, knowing Dan would get more riled up the more he went on like this.

~Phil chuckled deeply when Dan didn’t reply. “I guess I’m right. Dan Howell isn’t kinkier than me, and he’s shit in bed.” He declared, mostly to himself, seeing Dan’s face turn red from a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I’m great in bed. Maybe you’re the one who sucks in bed, that’s why you’re harping on me so much.” He accused, seeing Phil raise an eyebrow at him.

~Phil brushed off the accusation, leaning back on the couch and putting his hands behind his head. “Sorry, I don’t get affected by very wrong accusations like you.” He hummed. “Are you saying yours against me was false then?” Dan smirked. “No I still think you suck in bed.” Phil laughed, looking over at him with that damn smirk still plastered on his face.

~Dan huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at him. “And what makes you think you’re so damn good in bed?” He asked. “Mhm?”

~Phil laughed, giving him a small shrug and closing his eyes. “I’d bet money I could make you cum untouched before i was even close.” He said casually. “Hell, I’d bet money I could have you begging me for it within 10 minutes.”

~Dan chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah right. You couldn’t get into my pants even if you took me to dinner and a movie first.” He snorted.

~Phil looked over at him once more, pushing his hair off his face and sitting up, chuckling deeply. “You say that because you know it’s true. You know easily I could have you begging for my cock, whimpering and whining for me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk the next day.”

~Dan swallowed visibly at his words, trying to push them away and shaking his head. “Oh whatever.” He denied. “Don’t lie to yourself Danny. I know damn well you want me. All those cries of my name and daddy over and over again in the middle of the night. You always sound so pretty, almost like you’re purposely putting on a show knowing I’m awake. I bet you look even better.”

~Dan was blushing furiously again, shaking his head but not speaking. “Awe..” Phil smirked, moving a hand on Dan’s thigh and squeezing gently. “Getting all worked up, Dan?” He cooed, leaning over and biting his earlobe gently. “Thinking about how nicely I’d stretch you open, how much better it’d be than all your toys, having me fucking into you, holding you down and marking up your neck and chest, making you my property?” He hummed.

~Dan didn’t even try to shake his head in denial, letting a small whimper pass his lips as Phil spoke. He felt himself being pushed back, Phil crawling between his legs in a swift motion and ghosting his lips over Dan’s neck. “You’d like that wouldn’t you baby? My thick cock ruining your pretty hole, teeth sinking into your neck and leaving dark bruises, my cum filling you up nicely..” He started placing small kisses down Dan’s neck.

~Phil moved down the side of his neck, kissing gently, occasionally taking the smooth skin between his teeth and nipping quickly. Dan was squirming under him, quickly becoming a mess. “Fuck..Phil..” Dan whimpered out, hands gripping the older male’s shirt tightly. “What baby boy?” Phil smirked gently.

~Dan whimpered loudly, his head thrown back as Phil bit down roughly and sucked a few proper marks against his throat. “Fuck me!” He cried out without thinking, gasping when Phil’s lips detached from his beck and moved to his mouth.

~Phil kissed him for a while, his hands moving under his shirt and rubbing circles into his hip bones. Dan was whimpering into his mouth, kissing back messily as he wiggled under him. “Please Phil.” He whined when Phil pulled back from the kiss, watching the older male tug off his shirt quickly. Dan did the same, looking at him with desperate eyes.

~Phil chuckled and leaned back down, feeling Dan’s hands fumbling with his belt, the metal clinking and Dan’s moaning the only sound in the room. Dan’s hands moved back, his arms around Phil and his nails dragging down his back once Phil started grinding into him, hips rutting together roughly.

~Dan was coming undone too soon, he felt like a horny teenager all over again as Phil’s hips rolled into his own, the friction of his jeans and boxers against the head of his cock almost enough to send him over the edge already, just needing a little more. He moaned loudly, feeling Phil nip his bottom lip and tug it back, attacking his mouth again for another heated kiss.

~Phil moved his hand down quickly, starting to palm Dan through his jeans firmly. Dan was getting louder, his moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls and drowning out all other sound. He cried out, starting to cum hard, blushing a deep red as he did.

~Phil chuckled softly, smirking. “I guess I was wrong..” He hummed. “About..?” Dan panted slightly, feeling Phil’s hips still pressing into his own. “You are good in bed. So far.” He smirked, his lips reattaching to Dan’s quickly, his hips still rolling into his.

~Dan didn’t take long to get hard again, Phil having some surreal effect on his libido he had never seen before, not that he was complaining. He felt Phil’s fingers hook under his jeans, tugging them down with force until they were on the ground.

~Phil did the same, slowly stripping with him until there was a pile on the ground of all their clothes. Phil reached down, wrapping his hand around the younger male’s cock and starting to stroke slowly, his thumb rubbing over the tip and over his slit repeatedly, Dan bucking his hips up in response each time, desperate for the touch.

~Dan wasn’t quiet, he never was, but in the sexual aspect he was a vocal guy. He liked to moan, he liked to put on a show for whoever was fucking him, and Phil would be lying if he said it wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. “Should we go to the bed?” Dan asked between kissing, whining and pouting when he felt Phil’s hand pull away from his aching cock.

~Phil gripped his ass, pulling him into his lap and lifting him up with surprising ease, carrying him to the bedroom with his lips attached to his neck. Dan felt his back hit the bed, Phil between his legs again and his hand fumbling to the side for his top drawer, finding the small blue bottle of lube and handing it to Phil.

~Phil chuckled, popping the cap and pouring a thick layer over three of his fingers, moving his hand between Dan’s legs and circling his rim. Dan shivered, his thighs shaking in anticipation before letting out a loud, strained moan when Phil slipped two fingers into him with ease.

~Phil worked his fingers in and out of the whimpering, writhing man under him, curling them slowly to try and find his spot. He smirked, hearing Dan cry out, his back arching off the mattress once he found it. He added a third digit, scissoring his fingers slowly for a moment before deciding he was stretched enough, spending a few moments rubbing against Dan’s prostate.

~Dan was whining at the top of his lungs, breathless, covered in a thin layer of sweat and his hair curling against his forehead as he was worked open. Phil was in awe, drinking in the sight and sound of Dan. “You sound so good baby..such a slut for me already.” He breathed, pulling his fingers out slowly.

~Dan whimpered, his legs wrapping around Phil’s hips and trying to pull him closer. Phil chuckled, smacking his thigh as a warning. “Don’t be a greedy slut or I’ll leave you here with a vibrator in as punishment. I could get off on my own, come back later when I’, ready to use your hole for my pleasure, just leave you hear unable to cum with a toy against your spot for a few hours.” He threatened, watching Dan shake his head.

~Phil chuckled softly, smirking. “That’s what I thought baby..” he said, stroking over himself and coating his length with the leftover lube, moaning lowly. He positioned at his entrance, pushing in his tip before pulling out, smirking when Dan whined and started clenching around nothing, his head thrashing back in frustration. “Beg.” Phil smirked.

~Dan pouted, looking up at him and whining loudly, no longer caring. “Please daddy just fuck me! I’ve been so good, I’ve been such a good slut for you. Please just fuck me, use me, ruin me, make me yours.” He begged, gasping and arching his back when he felt Phil push in suddenly.

~Dan’s whole body shook, feeling more full than ever, his hands grasping at nothing for something, anything to grip as Phil started to fuck him quickly, barely giving him time to adjust. It hurt, but in all the best ays. The burning, Phil hitting his prostate dead on over and over again as if he had done this a thousand times, his nails digging into Dan;s hips as he gripped them for leverage. Dan was in bliss, tears in the corner of his eyes from the intense pleasure.

~Phil was breathless, thrusting harder and harder into Dan, their hips slamming together each time he pushed back in. Dan was unbelievably tight, warm, swallowing his cock perfectly, screaming his name. He felt Dan move up, his arms around him again and his nails dragging down his back probably hard enough to draw blood.

~Phil groaned loudly, trying to keep quiet and enjoy the beautiful noises pouring from Dan’s swollen and pink parted lips. “God fucking dammit..” Phil muttered, leaning down and resting his forehead against Dan’s as he thrusted hard. “You’re so good baby..so good for me. Taking my cock like you were made too, all these pretty moans and curses all for me.”

~Dan nodded, rocking his hips into him as he was slammed into over and over again. “All for you daddy fuck!” He was almost screaming, unable to stay quiet for more than a moment, the build of his orgasm tightening in his stomach. Only a few short moments later he was coming again, white ribbons along both of their chests, loud shouts of Phil’s name and various obscenities pouring from his mouth at high enough volume he was sure everyone on their floor could hear him, but he didn’t care.

~Phil started breathing heavy, Dan tightening around him as he came for the second time that night, the feeling sending him over the edge. His thrusts became less rhythmic as he grew closer, Dan clenching tightly around him until he came himself, deep inside the younger male, gasping and groaning, his hips moving erratically as he rode out his orgasm.

~Phil collapsed onto him, rolling over and pulling out, hearing Dan whimper quietly as his cum dripped out of him slightly. Dan moved over to lean on him, looking at him and smiling a little. “Wanna nap and then we’ll talk about this?” He offered, seeing Phil nod before they both passed out. 



A/N: Can I just with the fact that I still always listen to Often by The Weeknd whenever I write lmao. This is 2.3 k, so t’s seriously official, I can’t write a short hc. 

anonymous asked:

I have a small favor to ask as I am v confused rn but could you post a brief description of the various gravity falls aus cus I know the names but I don't know what they're about so if you could inform me I'd be grateful please and thanks love~

Okay, this might take a bit.

Transcendence AU 

Essentially, when Bill fails the apocalypse and is dying, he makes one last desperate attempt to survive by trying to posses Dipper without his permission. Dipper fights back and by a hair’s chance manages to push the weakened Bill from his mind, killing the demon. Only, Bill has already rooted himself too deeply into Dipper and all of Bill’s power remains in Dipper, turning him into a demon and forcing him out of the physical plain. Because of his human origin, Dipper is the only demon capable of becoming physical without a rift, although it takes a while for him to figure out how. Now, while Bill was stopped from destroying the world, it was at the cost of the Transcendence. Pretty much the entire world becomes as magical as Gravity Falls and even more dangerous. Dipper becomes known as the demon Alcor and Mabel is his partner in cult bashing partner Mizar. There’s a lot of world building (reincarnation, prejudice against non-humans, monsters in everyday life, thousands of years as Alcor, Uncle Dipper, angels, other demons, awesome new characters, etc…) and overall, the blog is its own fandom that is constantly contributed to. TAU is the largest, most organized, and highest quality AU that I have ever seen. It’s huge. And fantastic. 

Here’s a longer summary.   This is its wiki.    Its TVtropes page.

Demonic Guardians AU -

Here’s the main comic behind it. Demons’ can have one human that if they bond with and protect, will make the demon stronger. There’s a catch though. If the human dies, a part of the demon does too. The stronger the bond between demon and human, the more damage will be inflicted on the demon when the human dies. Not all humans have a demon, and not all demons have a human. A bunch of the cast of GF have demonic guardians, each character having a different level of bond. Bill Cipher is Dipper’s guardian. Mabel’s is Dot Matrix (used to be named Tad Strange; might recognize him as the square with the bowler hat). Gideon’s is Kryptos (the star on top his tent). Stanley has Pi Mo (looks kinda like a coin). Pacifica’s is the Lumberjack Ghost. There’s a whole lot of fan made demons too. The creator is really cool. Outside of Demonic Guardians AU, she’s made the Danny Phantom crossover: You Smell Like Death, the Over the Garden Wall crossover: Garden Falls, and her own really good comic: The Boy Who Fell.

Monster Falls -

Dipper finds a magic stream called Fluvius Cantatis, some stuff happens, and everyone in the town gets turned into monsters. Dipper’s a Deertaur, Mabel’s a mermaid, Wendy’s a werewolf, Stanley’s a Gargoyle, Stanford’s a sphinx, Gideon’s a vampire, Robbie’s a zombie, Soos is a clay homonculus/golem, Pacifica’s a gorgon, Bill’s…human like, etc… This AU is mostly fan art and fanfiction. Sometimes the monster that a character is turned into is different, but this list is what they’re most commonly depicted as.

Reverse Falls -

I have no idea where this AU came from??? All the characters in this have swapped rolls and personalities. Gideon Pines is a kid visiting Gravity Falls with his cousin/best friend Pacifica Pines(or Southeast). While there, they meet the psychic twins Mabel and Dipper Gleeful who run the Tent of Telepathy. The twins are much darker and more powerful than Gideon from Gravity Falls. Will Cipher is an easily terrified Demon who just wants the twins to leave him alone. All the other character’s changes depend on the artist/writer. Robbie and Wendy usually swap. 

Relativity Falls -

This is essentially an age/generation swap. Twins Stanley and Stanford go to spend the summer with their Grauntie Mabel. The main switches are Mabel with Stanley, Dipper with Stanford, Wendy with Dan, Gideon with Bud, Pacifica with Preston, Abuelita(Maria) with Soos, etc… Most of the show is the same, with a few twists and the added personality of having a different character in whatever situation.

Anti-Gravity AU -

Though not to be mistaken for Relativity Falls, Anti-Gravity is also an age swap. Wendy and Soos are young kids who find Journal 3. Mabel and Dipper are teenagers who work for Grunkle Stan at the Mystery Shack. Pacifica has Robbie’s role (dating Dipper, to Wendy’s jealousy). Bud Gleeful takes Gideon’s place as Wendy and Soos’s enemy. Robbie is Soos’s bully. Other than that, all characters stay the same.

Reunion Falls -

Dipper and Mabel are separated at birth: Mabel growing up with their parents in California and Dipper being raised by Grunkle Stan. Eventually, Mabel finds out about Dipper and runs off to Gravity Falls to meet him. Without a twin, Mabel, while still bright and cheerful, is less out going while Dipper, growing up with Wendy and Stan as role  models, is more confident. The AU is the twins getting to know each other and bonding.

Only Child AU -

Mabel is stillborn, making Dipper an only child. Because of his parent’s ever growing grief over losing a child, Dipper is often neglected. Dipper has the same personality as cannon, but it’s buried under self-worth issues, survivor’s guilt, need to be loved, and shyness. He’s a sad child who really just needs a hug. He also knits sweaters; he always wears the red one he made (it looks a bit like Ford’s). The AU is Dipper’s stay at Gravity Falls with Stan and eventually reaches to him growing up and gaining a little sister, baby Mabel (who both he and his parent’s adore). The AU is all art right now, but the creator is eventually going to make a fic for it.

Fright Falls -

Mabel gets turned into a vampire. Dipper gets turned into a werewolf. The AU is their adventures as creatures of the supernatural. There’s a lot of cool art for the AU.

Immortal Pines AU -

Immortal Pines is a comic where Bill kills Mabel and Dipper, only to realize that it wasn’t what he wanted. He brings the twins back to life and makes them immortal by infusing them with his power. This means that they only exist in the dreamscape. The AU is them trying to get back to normal before they become too much like Bill.  The artist is cool.

Twin Demons AU -

Mabel and Dipper are the Demons, while Bill ‘Billi’ is the 12 year old human. Billi is an innocent, if lacking common sense, kid who’s come to Gravity Falls to stay with his Grunkle Stan. The twins are demons with big plans that involve Billi, much to his horror.

Blinded AU 

The Society of the Blind Eye doesn’t wipe Dipper’s memories of the supernatural, they wipe all his memory.  The Society takes him in, indoctrinating him into their ways. Bill visits and uses Dipper as a spy. The AU is an amnesic Dipper living with only the Society and Bill as company.

Apocalypse Falls 

Mabel’s decision in Not What He Seems has catastrophic damage on Gravity Falls. The Shack is destroyed and many people undergo….changes: physical, mental, even death. Dipper gains wings while Mabel’s mind spirals into madness. The AU just got rebooted, so the story-line is unknown at the moment.

  Gravity Rises -

Another swap AU, this time between personality and symbols. Mabel is Pine Tree, the intellectual and mystery obsessed twin. Dipper is Shooting Star, the laid back and creative one. Stan and Ford switch. Pacifica takes Gideon’s role as Crescent Moon, the leader of the Order of the Crescent Eye (Bill’s cult). She’s a sociopath and the main antagonist. Gideon takes Pacifica’s role as Lone Wolf, the rich kid turned anti-hero. Terrifying with his magic, even Bill is wary of Gideon. It’s a cool AU that’s very different from the show even though it’s partially a personality swap.

Joseon AU -

An AU where Gravity Falls takes place in the Joseon Kingdom in Korea. Everyone wears traditional clothing of the time period and place of the Joseon Kingdom. The AU is mostly fan art.

Coven AU -

Mabel and Dipper are the apprentices of Grunkle Stan in a wold where magic is common. Bill’s a magic cat.

Gravity Keys  -

In this AU, Gravity Falls is set in Key West, Florida. Mabel has a chicken instead of a pig, but other than that, most things stay the same.

Church AU -

It’s Gravity Falls, but in a church. Bill is a demon. Bill is in the Church. Dipper is just so angry at Bill. Things don’t go well.

Kitten Dipper AU -

Dipper finds a comb that has a cat shaped handle. When he brushes his hair with it, he gets turned into a kitten! The AU is Dipper the cat.

Carnivàle Falls 

It’s the 1930s. Mabel and Dipper go to stay with their Grunkle Stan at his traveling freak show. Gideon is a faith healer. The Dust Bowl is a problem.

Spy AU -

Stan and Ford are spys with Fiddleford building their gadgets. They’re trying to take down the Cipher Organization.

Camp Cipher -

Gravity Falls, but as a summer camp. The teens are counselors while all the kids are campers. Nice art.

Never Human AU 

Stanley Pines was stillborn, replaced with a Fae or Changeling. When in Fae mode, Stan had six glowing green eyes. There’s some angst of Stan learning to deal with the fact that he’s a monster and not actually related to his family. It’s later revealed that Dipper is also Fae, which really freaks him out. Mabel is super accepting, so everything turns out fine. It’s a really great AU with fantastic fics and art.

Ghost Stan AU -

Stan is a level 10 ghost. It’s awesome, and Stanley makes a great ghost. There’s a lot of sad. Stan’s dead. The AU has a whole bunch of fanfiction and fanart.

Joml AU/Grim AU -

Stanley befriends the Grim, omen of death. As soon as Ford finds out what Stan’s done he freaks out because, well, Stanley has the omen of death as his pet. Really cute and funny AU. Got some angst too though. Also, Stan makes his own journal.

Frankenstan AU -

Stanley dies pre-portal opening. Ford, being the idiot that he is, bring Stan back to life Frankenstein style with the help of Fiddleford. This includes digging up Stan’s body. It’s also got a mystery trio vibe going for it. 

anonymous asked:

Do you have any just happy fluffy (I don't mind if smutty or nah) established relationship sterek just nice and derek is happy yay pls

AND

Anonymous said:Hey so I just had a really crappy prom experience so I could use some fics, can you give me some established fics with sterek? An update maybe? Thank you you guys really helped me get through this.

I’m sorry about your prom. But hopefully this fluffy list will help. And here’s the tag for more. 

Originally posted by girlmeetssterek

Ephemeral by thegirlgrey

(1/1 I 2,100 I Teen)

Stiles has a weird reaction to his anesthesia. He wakes up with temporary amnesia. The resulting video gets 1 million hits on YouTube in 6 hours. (Beyoncé can suck it.)

Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller

(1/1 I 2,699 I Teen)

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone’s tried to burn down his home with his son inside.

“I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes,” John can’t even call that a whimper, it’s clearly a whine as Derek’s hands tighten against Stile’s hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek’s hands can hold him into one piece, “and that thought was worse than dying.”

boys will be boys by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 1,309 I General)

Schedule a parent-teacher conference with the Hales at your own risk.

Let me take care of you by LillianDeLooney

(1/1 I 3,434 I Mature)

Stiles is six months pregnant with Derek’s babies when his mate gets home as a teenager, somehow having gotten de-aged again. Their mate bond is still strong, however, and all Derek wants to do is take care of Stiles…

When the Sky Fills With Rain by BarlowGirl

(1/1 I 5,205 I Explicit)

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You know I can shop for myself, right?”

“I know you can,” Stiles said. “But I don’t think you will. So we’re gonna go to Walmart and get you a couple packs of tank tops ’cause you look really hot in those and some more t-shirts and Henleys and basically whatever you need, and I’m going to stare at you and maybe drool a little while you try them on. And then we can go to wherever you usually buy jeans and I’m going to stare at your ass while you try those on.”

“Good to know,” Derek said dryly.

Stiles grinned. “Yup. And then you can wash them in my washing machine and leave them on my couch until they stop smelling like strangers and smell like us.”

Derek absolutely did not turn red.

Or: 5 Times Stiles Took Care of Derek and One Time Derek Took Care of Stiles.

When Nothing Else Works by hannah_baker

(1/1 I 5,915 I Teen)

Sheriff Stilinski is slowly and begrudgingly accepting the fact that werewolves exist, regular bad things still do happen sometimes, and his son may or may not be dating Derek Hale behind his back.

Or, the one where having Derek Hale in his bed is the only way Stiles can get to sleep. Much to his father’s annoyance.

Puppy Separation Anxiety by KaliopeShipsIt

(2/2 I 9,188 I General)

Derek and Stiles’ three year old daughter is completely fine with Derek dropping her off at Pre-K, but has a separation anxiety induced meltdown every time Stiles does.

Naturally, Derek jumps to conclusions that couldn’t be farther from the truth if he’d tried.

The One with the Kiss Cam by nerdfightingwhovian

(1/1 I 9,224 I Teen)

While at a hockey game, which was totally Stiles’s idea, the cameramen behind the Kiss Cam think Erica and Stiles are together. Derek, right next to Stiles, has to intervene on the behalf of his mate.

Also, there might or might not be a homophobic couple who start screaming at our werewolfy hero. He also might or might not give them the cold Hale stare.

Excerpt:
“We were all wondering if we could go see a hockey game. Erica and I really love to watch hockey, and Boyd finds it fascinating, mainly because it makes Erica blood thirsty, and their sex life is really weird. And Danny likes it and so does Kira, and she’s single and ready to mingle after her last boyfriend turned out to be less than ideal. Isaac is pretty much interested in anything that will guarantee him getting laid. And Scott and Allison just want to use the cold rink as an excuse to cuddle. And Lydia will jump at any chance to do more match and basically show off her brain to everyone within hearing distance.”
“What about Jackson.”
“Fuck Jackson.” And yeah, Derek should have expected that.

you break the mountain down by runphoebe

(1/1 I 10,655 I Explicit)

Stiles is pretty sure that it’s not normal to have a sexual awakening six years into a relationship. He’s pretty sure that’s supposed to happen at the beginning and not, you know, after you already have a mortgage together.

Stiles and Derek have been together for six years when Stiles graduates from college and moves back to Beacon Hills.

This Is Your Life, Derek Hale! by PolarisTheYoungWolf

(7/7 I 23,699 I Explicit)

I need more de-aged Derek and pregnant mate Stiles! Can you imagine de-aged teen Derek being told he has a family of his own? Like the baby(babies) are born and he’s like that for like…a weekend or maybe even a week or longer. And it’s just overwhelming and awesome and funny and teendaddy Derek trying to also be a doting husband/mate and maybe they have to go out…because the babies have chickenpox and they need the pink lotion to help with the itching(Do werewolves get chicken pox? Maybe one of the babies is human and got it in case Were’s can’t?) and Derek is torn from staying with his pups and getting something that will help their recovery? I dunno…just…de-aged daddy Derek that’s mates with Stiles is TOO cute an image!!!!

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too by MereLoup

(4/4 I 82,981 I Explicit)

Derek spent too much time, walking amongst the ashes of his life and refusing to move on into the future; refusing to move past the anguish. But somewhere along the way he found purpose, rebuilt this house, found his mate, and he realized that this didn’t have to be the end, that he could continue the legacy of the Hale pack and carry on the traditions and rebuild his life. And now, in this house, with his pack, he was beginning the next generation of the Hale Pack with the most incredible mate he could have ever dreamed of.

The West Wing

Remember when I asked if you all wanted a ficlet of Feyre finding Rhys’ mother’s and sister’s wings in Spring Court? And all you Maasochists said yes?

Well, here you go…

Originally posted by blmglove

~

I climbed the stairs to that part of the manor that I’d never visited before. Tamlin had never outright ordered me not to venture here, but it was always an unspoken understanding we had. Before everything that happened, before Rhys, Tamlin always came to my room when we spent the night together, I was never invited to his. Maybe that’s what drove me to explore while he was far from the manor. Not that I was afraid of him, I hadn’t been afraid of him for a long while now, but it would be so much easier to look around without him hovering over me.

Keep reading

The Only Exception (Part 3)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,523

Warnings: language, fluff, wishful thinking, hot firemen, sarcasm, cynicism, bad jokes, drinking, sad story retelling (mentions of death and loss)

A/N: Moving right along…and yes, I used a Keep Reading line. Also, shout out to @redgillan for making my day brighter.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Originally posted by kittyseb

Keep reading

You Don’t Know Me

Request: I can’t really think about an actual story plot but maybe yoongi getting you pregnant and he chickens out… Aw This is such a bad description but since you’re an amazing writer ypu can pull it off better ☺💖 thank you!

Originally posted by nvmyg

Pairing: Yoongi + Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.841

Warnings: swearing

A/N: you’re so sweet omg and of course it’s a good description! I hope I made it similar to the way you wanted it to be


Kneeling on the cold bathroom floor, your bare legs had goosebumps spread all over your skin, acknowledging the icy tiles. Hair hold back by one of your hands while the other one stabilized your weak body, your forehead collapsed against the toilet stool. Hasty breaths left your slightly open mouth while cold sweat pearled down your face and back. 

What is happening to me?

You took a deep breath before sitting up straight enough to not feel like an old grandmother having back problems. Grabbing some pieces of toilet paper, you wiped over your mouth before throwing it into the toilet and flushing it down to God knows where. 

Closing the toilet seat, you slowly stood up, turning your body towards the sink, opening the faucet. For a few seconds you let the water run so it could turn completely cold before holding both of your hands underneath it, splashing the icy water into your face. Reflexively, your lungs screamed for air as the cold water hit your face but you just ignored it.

It’s just cold water, calm down.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you brushed your teeth quickly, examining yourself in the mirror in front of you above the sink. Your eyes were encircled by dark bags, skin white as the snow that had already melted away weeks ago. Your hair had lost its healthy shine and just hung there loosely, like overcooked spaghetti noodles.  

Sighing deeply, you finished up your cleaning up and walked back into your bedroom, grabbing for your phone. You had to check the calendar before making any overly fast assumptions about your symptoms.

Opening the calendar app, you scrolled back to the last month.

Date of last period: February 16th

Current date: April 17th

Two months since your last period. Two months since mother nature forgot to visit you and make your life horrible. Oh how you wished, Satan had nested in your uterus in those last two months instead of sitting there in that exact moment, wondering how the hell you got into this situation.

“Two fucking months….”, you mumbled to yourself. “I need to get a test.”

With those words being said, you grabbed your keys and coat, storming out of your tiny apartment, down the street to the pharmacy. Strangers pushed their bodies into yours while trying to pass you but you didn’t notice. All you could think of was if you were ready to get some answers. You needed to know why you were feeling so miserable since weeks but at the same time you were scared. Scared that your assumptions would be true and you’d have to tell Yoongi. Scared that he’d flip and leave you alone. So many things could happen and you weren’t ready to figure out what else could ruin your life. But you had to. 

Pushing the door open, the smell of disinfectant hit your nose, making you scrunch it in disgust. You never liked the smell of disinfectant. It reminded you of hospitals and that again reminded you of death. Not the nicest connection one could think of. That’s why you tried to stay away from that smell. 

Walking up to the pharmacist who looked like she was about to fall asleep any second, you silently prayed that she wouldn’t ask any further questions like aren’t you a little too young to ask for a pregnancy test? where’s the father? do you know who the father is? you should have been more careful, young lady. You really didn’t need that crap right now.

“Excuse me”, you politely asked the woman. “C-can I have one of those pregnancy tests?”, you signaled at the white sticks behind the lady as she turned around to see where you were pointing at. They were the cheapest ones you could see and the only ones you could afford as a college student.

The pharmacist smiled at you and leaned a little closer to you. “Of course, but I wouldn’t recommend those - they’re usually wrong or don’t work at all.”

Then why are you selling them at all? “Oh.. well I guess it’ll have to do, those are the only ones I can afford right now”, you faked a laugh as she handed you the test and you gave her the money. Her expression was pitiful but not judging. More like a mother feeling sad for a child.

“Is there a bathroom around here? I don’t think I can wait until I’m back home”, you mumbled and the lady showed you the way to go.


After finishing your business, you waited in the cabin for the 10 minutes you were supposed to wait, anxiously biting down on your lip.

What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? I can’t take care of a baby yet. I can barely take care of myself!

As the 10 minutes went by, you decided that you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t look down at the result by yourself. You needed someone to do it for you. So you walked out of the bathroom back to the pharmacist, who was looking at you questioningly.

“Would you mind- would you mind, telling me what is says?”, you asked hesitantly. “I can’t bring it over myself to do it.”

She smiled at you and nodded. “Sure, turn it around sweetheart, so I can see the bars.”

You turned the stick to her and bit down on your lip hard. Your heart rate increased and nervous sweat started to spread out all over your body. 

The lady took a look and then she seemed to struggle with a fitting facial expression. “I don’t know if you’re going to be happy about this new or not, but it’s positive”, she decided to smile at you warmly as your stomach dropped.

“Positive?”, you whispered, looking down on it yourself. There it was. A pink cross. Or plus. Or whatever you want to call it. 

“I- it can’t-”, you stuttered as your eyes filled with tears. You didn’t even care to wipe them away at that point.

“Oh no dear, don’t cry”, the pharmacist said. She turned around and grabbed another package, a fancier looking one and discreetly slid it over the table. “Shh don’t tell anyone but here - take this one. These are about 89% of the time right unlike the one you just took. Take it with you and do the test when you’re calmed down, okay?”

You looked up at her and shook your head under tears. “B-but I can’t afford that one.”

The lady smiled at you again and pushed it closer to you. “It’s fine. It’s on the house”, she winked and giggled, making you smile at her thankfully.

“No go, rest and take the test”, you nodded at her words, mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before rushing back to your apartment. 

Maybe you still had a chance.


“What do you mean ‘you’re pregnant’? We always used protection (Y/N)!”, Yoongi screamed in disbelief, brushing his hands through his hair in frustration. “You can’t be pregnant. It’s impossible.”

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed bitterly. “As long as your not sterile and I’m not infertile, I can always get pregnant Yoongi. Condoms can rip and the pill doesn’t work 100%.”

“Fuck!”, he yelled, throwing his phone against the sofa, making you flinch. You had expected him to react pissed or at least not really happy but you never thought, he’d flip like he did.

“Yoongi…”, you approached him, trying to calm him down, needing him to calm down to be calm yourself and not have a complete breakdown.

“Don’t touch me (Y/N)”, he growled.

“But-”

“No ‘buts’! This ruins everything, you realize that right? Everything I worked for so hard these last couple of years. Everything I ever wanted, all ruined because of this fucking mistake”, his voice was as cold as ice as his eyes stared at you, burning not only your body to pieces but your soul as well.

“Yoongi, yes it’s very inconvenient, you can call it a mistake even. But we’re in this together, we can’t change it. But we can go through this together”, you whispered through tears, trying to approach him again. You needed his support more than ever but all he seemed to do was to push you further away.

“It’s not only this pregnancy that is a mistake. This whole relationship was a mistake. I should have never started dating you, then it would have never gotten this far. I would have stayed focused on my work and only my work, not even having the slightest possibility for this to happen. Now what? The fans don’t even know about you! But all of sudden I have a girlfriend and a baby? They’d force me to marry you because we live in fucking Korea and you don’t just get kids without being married yet. My whole life would be ruined!”, by now he was screaming, fuming, running around the house uncontrollably, grabbing things here and there.

His words hit you worse than any weapon could as the meaning behind it sunk in. He thought you were the mistake. You were ruining everything. Everything that was important to him. He hated you in that moment, you felt it. 

You sunk to the floor, sobs escaping your lips as tears streamed down your face and your lungs were searching for air. Hysterical sobs left your mouth as your hands covered your face and your body curled up into a tiny frame.

“Yoongi please!”, you screamed out, lifting your head for a second, only hearing him going through your wardrobe in your bedroom. “I can’t do this without you! I’m a broke college student, I’m alone here, I don’t have anybody else but you!”

His figure appeared back in the door frame to the living room, a packed bag slung over his shoulder. “You should have thought about that before starting a relationship with me.”

Hastily you stood up as his body walked past you, towards your front door. Your fingers enclosed his arm, pulling on it, so he would stop. When he did and turned around, you saw the hurt and guilt in his eyes for a second before his gaze turned back to ice. You knew he cared. He cared but he was also impulsive and his impulse told him that his career was more important. 

“Yoongi, you don’t want that. You love me. You can’t just leave me like this, you’re more than this awful egoistic asshole”, you brokingly sobbed, still holding onto his arm, eyes begging him to stay.

He shook his head, ripping his arm free from your grip. “I guess you don’t know me that well after all then.”

With that, he pushed you off him, slamming the door shut without giving you one last glance, as you glanced after his figure in disbelief, a deadly pain spreading across your chest and stomach, making you gasp for air as more tears covered your face, leaving physical marks of the pain your were feeling.

he’s not that man...

Because I need Emma to believe, in her heart, that Killian would never leave her…and I need her to fight to get him back.


There’s not enough vodka in the world to warm the ice running through her veins, but she’d gone along, let herself try to seek some comfort from her mother and Regina. It hadn’t worked. She knew it wouldn’t, but the walls of her big empty house were closing in on her with every breath she took and she’d just needed to get out. The bar had felt infinitely worse, full of concerned looks and shady bartenders, making her feel itchy in her own skin. 

She should have just come here sooner. With each step she’s taken closer to the water she’s felt her own intuition grow stronger, more sure that something just isn’t right. Snow had told her that the Jolly Roger was still here, but seeing it now, empty and quiet, the holes her vulnerability had ripped into her heart suddenly feel smaller. Not mended, but less penetrable. 

He wouldn’t leave. Not her. Not his ship. Not Storybrooke without saying a word. He loves her. He loves her so much that he was willing to rip out his own memories before hurting her, a misguided act to be sure, but brought out by the depth of a love defined as true. Not just by the Gods or whatever it is that deems love as true, but by the totality of everything that they have been through. They’ve fought for every moment they’ve had together and she knows he wouldn’t just walk away from this latest battle.

Something is wrong. So wrong that she wants to scream at herself for wasting an entire day thinking she’d been abandoned, letting herself fall back into a past life where the man she loves would hurt her with such a cowardly act. Killian is not that man. Not now, not ever. He makes mistakes, sure, but he would never abandon her. Immediately, she feels guilt surround her like a storm cloud, at her own thoughts, her own unwillingness to fight. 

Digging her fingers into her coat pocket she pulls out Liam’s ring by the chain it’s thread through, the red stone catching the light overhead as she rolls it between her gloved fingertips. That feeling she’d had at home when she found it, when she’d first realized Killian had left it behind, it hits her with a renewed force. He gave her that ring in hopes of saving her soul, believing it could somehow keep her safe from the darkness. He’d asked her to come back to him.

She’s going to use it now to bring him back home.

Regina picks up her call on the second ring, but Emma doesn’t event waste a second on niceties.

“Regina, we need to do a locator spell. Now. Meet me at the docks.” 

Jealousy

*Daveed Diggs x reader
*Word count: 1206

Summary: You and the rest of the original cast are hanging out at Daveed’s apartment for a little cast party when somehow, Oak gets the dumbest idea to play seven minutes in heaven, and now you’re stuck in a closet with Groff and Daveed doesn’t like that very much and basically iT GETS WILD K

A/N: Okay, so I’m ALMOST finished with part two of Broadway, but of course, I ended up getting writers block right in the middle of writing it and now I can’t seem to think of any good ideas for it and then this fic happened. Requests are open and I’ll try to get Broadway out sometime this week! Love you guys :)

Warnings: Um the usual ,,, cursing and love confessions whooP

masterlist

Originally posted by wegotitmadeintheshade


“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You mutter as you take off your most precious possession, a diamond necklace your mother had given to you when you were younger, and put it into the beanie that Oak was holding out to you with a smug expression.

“Relax, Y/n/n,” Groff teases as he puts his watch into the beanie, using your childhood nickname that you despised. “Yeah,” Daveed snickered, sitting on the other side of you. “It’ll be fun.” You scoffed, blowing your hair out of your eyes as you turned to face Daveed and Groff with an incredulous expression. “Yeah, for you guys.” You huffed, crossing your arms and trying to ignore the blush that decided to make an appearance on your features when Daveed slung an arm across your shoulders.

Of course, that blush didn’t go unnoticed to Pippa and Lin, who simply looked at each other and smirked, before turning away and facing you two again.

Eventually, everyone had put an item into the basket and now Jazzy was drawing an item from the beanie, and when she finally pulled it out, everyone groaned when she pulled out Anthony’s bracelet, “no fun,” Renee complained, shaking her head before laughing a bit at the irony of Jasmine pulling out her boyfriend’s item.

“Whatever, let’s go,” Anthony laughed, leading Jasmine to the closet. “Don’t be too loud, you two! We’re still here!” Lin whooped, snickering a bit when you leaned across to smack him gently on the shoulder.

Seven minutes later, both Jasmine and Anthony walked out, Anthony with a smug expression and Jasmine with her cheeks tinted pink and disheveled hair. Oak whistled, winking playfully at the two.

“Alright, Groffsauce, it’s your turn.” Oak called out, handing the beanie to Groff so he could draw something from the beanie. He then pulled out your necklace, which made him immediately stand up and bow in your direction, using his fake British accent he used every night, “M’lady,” he teased, holding out his hand for you to take.

Of course, you didn’t notice Daveed tensing up when you took his hand and allowed him to lead you to the closet. “Don’t go crazy!” Anthony laughed, high fiving Lin and Oak, whereas Daveed just crossed his arms and muttered bitter words under his breath, which made everyone turn their attention to him and laugh.

“What? You don’t like it that your girlfriend is in the closet with Groff right now?” Lin cooed teasingly, pinching Daveed’s cheeks which made him groan and slap Lin’s hands away. “Shut up, she’s not my girlfriend,” he pouted, and it was obvious that he was upset.

“This is a stupid game anyway.” Daveed muttered, running a hand through his wild hair. “Chill out, D.” Renee rolled her eyes, “you’re acting like a child. You know they don’t like each other romantically and nothing’s gonna happen.” Daveed sighed, he knew it was true, but there was still this lingering feeling in him that wouldn’t go away.

After the seven minutes were up, you and Groff walked out, Groff sporting lipstick on his cheeks and forehead, which made everyone whistle playfully. “I’m never cleaning my face again, my love.” Groff sighed playfully, pretending to swoon as he took your hand and batted his eyes. You both sat down and you cupped his face, “I’ll love you forever, my dear.” You pretended, trying not to crack.

Daveed couldn’t take that and immediately stood up, muttering something about grabbing a drink and storming off, his fists clenched.

You frowned, removing your hand from Groff’s and looking at everyone, “what happened?” You wandered, making everyone shrug, yet you knew that from the expressions they all had, they knew. But you didn’t push and only sighed, getting up to go find the man and ask him what was wrong.

You found him, pouring some vodka into a shot glass and chugging it immediately, slamming the small glass cup onto the marble counter. “D?” You wandered, moving towards him and gently placing your hand  on his bicep, frowning up at him. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes and muttered something, though you couldn’t understand.

This went on for a few more minutes before you got annoyed, pulling away from Daveed and glaring him. “Daveed, look at me right now.” He groaned, setting the glass he was ready to drink down and looked at you with a stone cold expression.

“What’s up with you? You were fine before me and Groff went into the closet.” You ranted slightly, “and now- now you’re acting like a child! And I don’t know how to help you!” You threw your hands in the air to make it a bit more dramatic, narrowing your eyes at him.

“God, it’s nothing, Y/n. Just leave it alone.” He growled, shaking his head.

“But it is something.” You argued back, stepping a bit closer to him which made him narrow his eyes as he took a shaky breath.

“Fine, you really want to know?” He cracked, making you nod your head. “I-I, I love you,” he laughed, no humor lacing his voice as he spoke. “This is so cheesy and stupid but when I saw Groff pull your stupid necklace out of that stupid beanie, it was the worst feeling in the world.” He continued. “And I know you would never date him and he doesn’t like you romantically but it’s still an awful feeling-”

“Daveed, shut up.”

He stopped, looking down at you with a hurt expression when you pulled his face down to meet yours, pressing your lips to his.

It took a few moments for him to reciprocate but he finally did, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up onto the counter, kissing you as if he stopped, you’d be gone.

You both eventually, and reluctantly, pulled away to catch your breath, smiling breathlessly at each other.


When you both went back, hand in hand, you were greeted with this scene~

“Who the hell put a deck of cards in the beanie?” Oak groaned, frowning at the deck in his hands which made Lin sheepishly raise his hand.

“What? Did you seriously think we would make out? Nuh uh. We’re gonna play Go Fish for the next seven minutes.”

“Why do you even carry a deck of cards with you?”

“You never know when you’ll need them.”

“You’re so weird.”

“I know.”

Sons of Lawrence #13

Summary:  Sons of Anarchy meets Supernatural. In this AU, the Winchesters run the most notorious biker gang in Lawrence. They traffic illegal drugs, weapons, and anything else that makes them money and keeps them on top.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Ruby, Jo Harvelle, Elen Harvelle, Bobby Singer, Meg Masters, James Novak. 
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,861
Warnings: Angst, language, medical jargon
Author’s Note: This series isn’t going to be light and fluffy. It will include explicit language, explicit sexual content, casual use of illegal drugs, explicit canon typical violence.
Miss the beginning? GIF credit [x][x][x][x]

“This isn’t a fairy tale, Mr. Winchester,” Doctor Novak stated matter-of-factly. “Y/N suffered extensive internal damage. I can’t tell you long it will take because I don’t know how long it will take.”

Standing next to Dean’s hospital bed, John had his arms crossed and a scowl on his brow. “I don’t expect immediate results, doc. But there’s gotta be something that can be done.”

James Novak crossed the room and turned on the lights of the x-ray panels on the wall. He opened a large manilla folder and pressed the film up until it got stuck. He ran a finger along the outline of Y/N’s skull. “When Y/N got thrown from the bike, she hit her head. Now, the helmet saved her life, but it also did some damage,” he cleared his throat before continuing. “Along with a severe concussion, the impact resulted in a hematoma. In layman’s terms, clotting of blood outside the blood vessels.”

Mary, who was holding her son’s hand, asked, “Is it serious?”

Doctor Novak nodded. “It can be very serious if a hematoma occurs inside the brain. Unfortunately, that is what occurred. The clotting can cause pressure to build inside the skull, which is a factor into why she lost consciousness. Hopefully that won’t last too long. We went in and drained what we could.”

“What else?” Dean rasped, his throat raw from having a breathing tube removed earlier that morning.

Another piece of film was slapped up. “There was a lot of scar tissue from what had been repaired 3 years ago. This time, she was stabbed more than once. Add in the internal damage from the accident and the loss of blood, Y/N is looking at a rough recovery.”

There was a collective heavy sigh between the Winchesters as Dean pushed his head into the mountain of thin pillows.

“Thank you,” John murmured and held out his hand for the doctor.

James’ lips pressed into a thin line as he shook John’s hand. “Y/N was on a lot of my cases over the past year; she’s an amazing person. I promise that I’ll do everything in my power not to lose her.”

He went to leave the room, but stopped suddenly and rummaged in a pocket of his crisp, tan jacket. “I almost forgot,” he whispered.

Mary held out her hand when James approached and extended a fist. The ring she had given Y/N the other day fell softly into her palm. She choked on a sob and almost crumbled under the weight of John’s hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll get that back to her, Mare,” John promised, his own voice tremulous with emotion.

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“Is Bruce in here?” Tim figured he might be— Bruce spent a lot of time in the children’s wing of Wayne Enterprises. There were a dozen or so kids in daycare most weekdays, and Bruce liked to hang out.

Tim liked to hang out too. They had nice snacks, and he’d known most of the kids since they were toddlers. And sometimes naps were mandatory.

“Conference call,” Damian told him. (For someone who claimed to hate naps, snackfood, kids, and humanity in general, Damian also spent a lot of time in the children’s wing.) “I don’t know where.” 

He went back to what he was doing, which was arranging a set of pewter soldiers into a complex model of a battlefield, presumably for the benefit of the preschooler sitting next to him. 

“What’s this?”

“The Battle of Issus, 333 BC.”

“Right, obviously.” Tim decided he was curious, so he settled down on the mats to watch.  Damian finished his model; he pulled a marker from the art table and used it as a pointer. 

“Okay. This is the Macedonian army, outnumbered but in the better tactical position, south of the Pinarus River. Their leader is Alexander the Great. And this—” He pointed to his enemy line. “—is the Achaemenid Empire. They’re about to lose.”

Damian tapped his marker on the Macedonian right. “This is the companion calvary, Alexander’s elite force, and they—” he cut off when he noticed his pupil digging in the toy bin, clearly distracted. The kid came up with a battered Transformer, which he set behind Damian’s lines. 

“Elliot. Alexander did not have robots.”

“But,” said Tim, rummaging through the box himself, “did he have wizards?” He pulled a bearded magician out of the tub and held it up for Damian to see. 

“You know he didn’t.”

Tim passed the wizard to Elliot. “But what if he did?”

“Drake.”

“How would that go?”

Drake.”

“Abracadabra, Alexander!” Elliot yelled, gleefully smashing through Damian’s entire left flank.

“Damn it, Drake.” Damian sighed in frustration— not quite the rise Tim was hoping for, but still something. He dropped Elliot’s discarded robot back into the box.

“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Tim told him. “Elliot’s four. He’s too young for— what is this— military history?”

“He was doing fine before you showed up.” Damian started to re-erect his soldiers, but he gave it up after Elliot came in for a second pass. “Which is typical, isn’t it?”

“Good one.”

“Thank you.” Damian crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll bite. When is he supposed to learn this kind of thing?”

“High school? Maybe never.”

“That can’t be right.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Frequently.” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m getting a second opinion.”

“I’ll wait.”

Damian checked the room for potential allies. “Thomas?” he called over his shoulder, “You learned military strategy as a kid, right?”

Duke looked up from the book he was reading to a pair of kindergardeners. “Just you, man.”

“Told you.” Tim fished a bag of plastic ninja from the toy box and arranged them pointedly into a row. “How are you still surprised by this kind of thing?”

Damian glared at him. “Okay, first of all? I’m not a— hold on a second. Elliot!”

Elliot froze with a large, plastic dinosaur held aloft over the battlefield. He drew it sheepishly back to his chest. “Sorry.”

“Not in the calvary wing,” Damian told him. “You’ll scare the horses.”

“Here?” Elliot pointed to the front of the phalanx.

“Yes.”

“RAWR.”

“Aim for his center.” Damian turned back to Tim. “Anyway. Why are you still talking to me? I thought we had an agreement about unnecessary contact.”

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I owe the life I live today to fandom. It’s a bit complicated.

I am an artist in her late twenties, working as an illustrator full time (meaning somehow I actually convinced people to pay me for drawing all day). I own a decently sized flat in a big city and while I struggle with mental health issues, I am coping and getting better. I get to see the world and work with international teams and have close friends I can count on. And that’s all because I was brave enough as a teen to post some fanwork on the internet.

Let me explain myself some more. 

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Mr. Min - Chapter 05 Preview 02

Hoseok returned with two more bottles of beer and managed to keep the conversation away from what was bothering Yoongi until he had nearly finished the first bottle. “Alright,” he said with a sigh and adjusted himself in his seat to get more comfortable, “let’s hear it. What’s going on with you?”
Yoongi rubbed his hand over his face with an annoyed sigh. “That’s just the thing,” he said with a resigned laugh, “I don’t even know what is wrong.”

“Well that’s helpful,” Hoseok said with a bright laugh. Leave it to him to always find the humor in a situation even when Yoongi’s thoughts were all bleak.

“I’m not sleeping much lately,” Yoongi finally answered with a shrug, as if the admission meant nothing. “I thought it was that I have been drinking too much coffee but I haven’t had any in days and still can’t sleep.”

Hoseok’s brows furrowed and the edges of his lips cast downwards as he studied his friend again. “How long has that been going on?”

“Since earlier this week. It started the night of that party the company threw for the anniversary.“

“That’s awfully specific. What happened that night?”

Yoongi’s mind flashed back to your eyes shining in the light with impending tears, smeared mascara across your cheeks, and the way you looked at him as if he wasn’t even human. He cleared his throat and shook his head to try to rid himself of the unwanted image that had haunted him since that night. “Nothing much,” he finally muttered and took another sip of his drink.

“Uh huh,” Hoseok said in a tone that conveyed his disbelief. “You know, if I charged you like a therapist I wouldn’t even have to work. You’re so repressed that you could be my only client and I could charge you for every hour you sit in front of me and say ‘I’m fine’ or ‘nothing is wrong’. I’m in the wrong field clearly.”

"There was a little fight that night,” Yoongi finally admitted with a groan, “but really, honestly, it hasn’t been bothering me.”

"I’m curious, does it ever work?”

Yoongi brought his eyes away from his drink to look at Hoseok and wrinkled his brows in confusion. “Does what work?”

“Lying to yourself like that. ‘It hasn’t been bothering me’ you say as you reek of booze and admit that you can’t sleep. I’ve known you my entire life, Yoongi, and I can’t say that I have ever seen you admit that you had a problem. So if you are content with living your life feeling whatever the hell it is that is going on in your mind right now instead of just facing what is troubling you then by all means continue to ignore your problems,” Hoseok sighed and leaned back in his chair to study the other patrons of the bar. He waited for Yoongi to say something, anything, to refute his observation. When the older man remained quiet and merely left his gaze on Hoseok, who stubbornly refused to meet his stare though he knew his friend well enough to have predicted it, he continued. “So why don’t you start with who the fight was with?”

"I don’t see why it matters.”

"Well, I’m not a doctor but stress usually factors into not being able to sleep. Maybe you can’t relax because of this fight.”

"It was with an employee of mine. It really hasn’t been bothering me,” Yoongi said and finished the rest of his drink. He had lost count of exactly how much he had drank and couldn’t remember the last time he had let himself get to such a state.

Hoseok let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes before he took another swig of his beer. “Well if you aren’t going to tell me about it then just go sleep with that girl you’ve been fucking. That should wear you out enough to go to sleep, right?”

Yoongi bristled and rolled his empty tumbler between his fingers. “I can’t.”

"Why’s that? Did you finally break off your agreement with her?”

"No.”

"Oh so she did? It’s about time. I can’t believe she agreed to be your sex slave in the first place. What kind of woman doesn’t have a problem with that,” Hoseok said with a laugh.

Yoongi took a sharp breath and tried to ignore the way his chest tightened with the way Hoseok spoke about you. “That isn’t it either. I can’t fuck her because she was who I fought with that night.”

He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table to get as close as he could to Yoongi, a sinister smile on his face. “Now it’s getting interesting. So what was it that caused the fight between you and your fuck doll?”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what happened in that moment but something inside of him burst. He could feel it, first in his chest as a sudden heat, then in his hands as they tightened around his glass tumbler before finally finding release through his throat. “Don’t call her that,” Yoongi growled. Hoseok paused only for a second in surprise before his eyes widened and suddenly his twisted smile had grown and he exposed every tooth in his mouth. Yoongi wanted to punch him and his stupid smile at that moment.

“So that’s what this is about!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Yoongi snapped and looked around towards the bartender only to see a slew of people surrounding the man. “I need another drink. Why the fuck is the bar so busy?”

“You like her,” Hoseok said with an awestruck tone.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yoongi said brusquely.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok whispered, completely ignoring his friend.

“Just for that this one is now mine,” Yoongi said with a glare and grabbed the second beer bottle Hoseok had bought. He pulled the top off and took a sip before giving an exaggerated sigh, “so refreshing.”

“Min Yoongi is capable of feelings stemming from somewhere other than his dick,” Hoseok muttered to himself in disbelief.

Okay but hear me out

Professor Mcgonagall and Teddy Lupin

Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and basically everyone being super busy one day so there’s no one to take care of 2 year old Teddy.
”All right Potter,” Mcgonagall says, popping up in the middle of his living room. “I will watch over him. Go and do whatever you have to do.”
Teddy Lupin sitting in the Headmistress’ office, crying because he misses Harry and Ginny.
Mcgonagall transforming into a cat to comfort the boy.
By the time Harry comes to pick him up, he’s curled up next to Mcgonagall, fast asleep. 
After that, whenever the Potters are busy, Harry sends Teddy to “Aunt Micky” to play
Mcgonagall practically beaming as an eleven year old Teddy Lupin is called up to be sorted by the Sorting Hat.
An eleven year old Teddy Lupin watching his Aunty Micky in awe as she addresses the entire student body.
Teddy Lupin popping into the headmistress’ office because he feels like he’s failing potions.
Mcgonagall calling up Professor Longbottom to her office and the three of them having tea together.
Neville comforting Teddy and explaining that he himself was never good at Potions and it would take some practice, but he would get it eventually.
A fourteen year old Teddy Lupin being sent into the headmistress’ office for hexing a Ravenclaw boy who was insulting Bill Weasley.
“But professor, he had it coming of course. He was saying all those horrible things directly to Victoire’s face. Of course I had to do something.”
Mcgonagall taking 20 points from Hufflepuff, but letting him off with a warning. “And please, fix Mr. Flint’s face as well. It would do no good for him to walk the grounds looking like that.”
Mcgonagall warning all students with a special announcement at dinner that no one was to leave the castle because of some unknown dangers lurking in the Forbidden Forest. 
Sixteen year old Teddy Lupin sneaking into the Forbidden Forest past curfew with a couple of Slytherin and Gryffindor friends.
Teddy Lupin being hauled by Filch to the headmistress’ office at 2 in the morning.
Teddy Lupin standing in front of the headmistress’ desk, his head hung slightly as his friends tried to come up with excuses. 
Teddy standing with his arms folded over his chest, his eyes focused on the floor, refusing to meet her gaze.
Mcgonagall ushering the other students out of her office, then taking a seat at her desk.
Mcgonagall waiting for Teddy to sit down by himself.
Teddy Lupin feeling like the worst person ever for betraying his Aunt Micky like that.
Teddy Lupin opening his mouth to form some sort of apology but is interrupted.
“What you have done tonight reminds me of a group of students that attended Hogwarts years ago.”
Teddy looking up at her for the first time all night. He did not expect her to say anything like that.
“Yes, these four students seemed to get into trouble every single day. It is quite possible that they hold the record for the most detentions in a single year.”
Teddy Lupin not understanding why she’s telling him this.
Minerva Mcgonagall looking at him with a piercing gaze before continuing. “Despite all of this trouble, these four boys were absolutely amazing. They were amazing wizards, far more talented than most of the students in their year. And I loved them as if they were my own sons.”
“Professor I still don’t–”
“Would you like to see what kinds of trouble they would get into?” 
“I don’t understand Professor.”
Mcgonagall taking a deep breath before answering. “I trust Potter has shown you his memories of your father.”
Teddy Lupin nodding slowly, still unsure as to what was happening.
Minerva Mcgonagall bringing Teddy Lupin to the Pensieve and showing him, for the first time, who Remus Lupin truly was. 
Harry Potter knew the Remus who had been hurt and affected by the First War. He knew all of the pain and suffering that was felt during this time.
Minerva McGonagall knew the Remus Lupin before the war. She watched the social outcast find a family. She watched him grow. She saw him let his walls down and become more carefree. She stood by as he broke the rules and learned from his mistakes. She knew the real Remus Lupin. 
Teddy Lupin not being able to handle all of the memories at once.
Teddy Lupin coming back three times a week to learn new things about his father, and even a few about his mother. 
Teddy Lupin, for the first time ever, truly understanding the sacrifice his father made so that he could live in a better world. 

anonymous asked:

could you do 52 "i don't think he loves me anymore" with some angst? + andreil

Dan gets home late from her coaching gig on Tuesday night, and they eat thai takeaway over styrofoam containers and cheap wine.

The TV’s the only light in the room, and it’s almost like the flicker of a fireplace, if they don’t look at it directly. Dan’s laughing and smooching stray noodle off of Matt’s cheek when there’s a knock on the door.

They make faces at each other. “It’s 10 pm,” Dan says. “This had better be life or death.”

Matt groans. “Don’t tempt fate.” He struggles out of the couch and passes his ginger beef off to Dan. “5 bucks says it’s Allison back from Guadala-whatever. Timezones mean nothing to her.”

“Bet denied. You know gambling isn’t the same when we have a joint bank account,” Dan complains and Matt laughs, dodging their side table and heading for the front door. He busily cracks open all of their locks and rattles the door until it unsticks.

“Hey!” he says, surprised. Neil’s scuffing their doormat with the toe of his shoe, dressed in old PSU colours. “A house call from Neil Josten, what an honour,” he jokes. Half-jokes. A visit from Neil is a confession that he missed you enough to actually do something about it.

Neil looks up at him blankly, and something is so obviously wrong that it shakes Matt. He takes silent note of the bag slung over his shoulder, the mottled redness of his eyes and face.

“Allison?” Dan calls, and Matt shakes his head without thinking.

“Neil,” he replies softly.

“Get out of town,” Dan says, voice getting louder as she floats towards them. She appears at Matt’s shoulder and grins. “Well if it isn’t our favourite competition.”

Neil usually says something obnoxious about Matt’s team not even counting as competition, but this time his mouth stays thin and snapped shut. Matt and Dan exchange a loaded glance.

“I need to ask you a favour,” Neil says finally.

“Anything,” Matt says.

“I need to stay somewhere,” Neil says, and Matt watches him gather himself like he’s finding his balance on a slick of ice.

“Where’s Andrew,” Dan says slowly. Neil looks at her, and then at Matt. He hasn’t seemed quite this small since he first showed up at the foxhole court with all his lies clenched between his teeth.

“I can find somewhere else,” Neil says, already turning to go. Matt catches him by the strap of his duffel.

“Oh no you don’t. We’ve got a couch with your name on it.”

“If Matt hasn’t destroyed it with peanut sauce,” Dan chirps. Neil looks back and forth between them again, his face in knots. Matt bodily pulls him over the threshold.

“You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. We get how it is.” He looks over at Dan and she’s already nodding.

“Thanks,” Neil says, and he drops his bag heavily just inside the door. He eyes the TV. “What were you watching?”

“Not exy,” Dan replies. “You might have heard of it.” She flops back onto her side of the couch and tucks her feet under herself. Matt settles down opposite and watches Neil perch on the armchair like it’s made of something sharp.

“We can change it?”

Neil shakes his head, and his eyes drop. Matt feels metaphorical eggshells crunching under his heels. It’s never been this uneasy with Neil, even when they first met.

Neil picks at his armbands until he seems to realize what he’s doing, and he reaches under the sleeves of his hoodie to peel them off altogether. Dan shoots Matt a frantic look.

“Not to pry,” Dan starts, “but do you need us to call anyone?”

He looks up. “Like who?”

“Like…” she looks at Matt. “Your coach? Nicky, maybe? Kevin?”

“How would they help me?” Neil says flatly.

“Man, your Andrew impression is killer,” Matt grits, nerves pricking with frustration. Neil’s expression goes tight, distorted like canvas stretched to fit an oversized frame.

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cosmic-files-87  asked:

2/11/15 MSR for the angsty list....I know....I am an ass.... (but really!!!!! Please write that!!!!)

2 - I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you.

11 - You can’t keep hurting me and then demand I apologize instead.

15 - You betrayed me.

Author’s Notes: Okay, this one hurts. Like a kick to the groin kind of hurt. I almost feel bad. It is high angst & will probably piss some of you off. If you proceed – you were warned. Post IWTB.

Two Weeks, Too Cold

It’s been two full weeks since she’s seen him.

She can’t remember the last time she went more than a day without hearing his voice – What’s up, Doc? – watching him as he watched her, or felt his broad chest against her back as he spooned her to sleep.

I won’t be coming home, she had said. Don’t do this, he had begged.

Scully keeps telling herself that she made a mistake by letting him kiss her as she stood in their front yard with tears rolling down her face, by entertaining the notion that they could ever hide from the darkness. It was cruel, she thinks, because even then she knew that she wouldn’t be coming back home.

Which isn’t exactly true, because she did come home, briefly, to gather a bag or two of her belongings. Her chest aches at the memory – of the desperate tears and of his voice breaking on each  I’m sorry and please don’t leave me.

That was two weeks ago. Two weeks that have been filled with work, because if she can’t help the man she loves then at least she can help a child breathe. Two weeks filled with too much coffee, because her fingers feel ice cold without his own interlaced with them. Too little sleep, because her skin trembles and aches without his hands there to gentle away the nightmares.

Two weeks, she has decided, is long enough.

I just want to see him, she tells herself as she guides her car onto the long gravel drive that leads to their shared home. The house is modest, but cozy. Most of all, it’s theirs. The few tangible things they’ve shared in the past have been wrenched away from them – but not their home. No blood to scrub out of the carpet, no taped X in the window to summon life-threatening information. It’s just home, and it’s theirs.

She steps out of her car into the crisp air of early morning to pull open the gate, and she smiles to herself. The ritual of it is comforting. Countless mornings and evenings have began and ended with opening this gate, letting herself back into the beautiful, private world she shares with Mulder.

Pulling into her spot in front of the house, she sees a strange car. She frowns curiously. Did he go out and buy a car after I left? She wouldn’t put it past him, except that it would require his actually leaving the house (and nothing short of a psychic priest has convinced him to do so thus far).

On her walk to the front door, her heart begins to hammer against her ribs at the thought of seeing him again.  It’s only been two weeks, she chides herself. Still, she expects that he may be angry. When he’s hurt, he tends to deflect – in his case, that means petulant withdrawal and an abundance of sarcasm.

She draws in a deep breath and unlocks the door. He may still be asleep, she realizes as she steps into quiet darkness. It’s just after five o’clock in the morning. Just because she hasn’t been able to rest doesn’t mean he can’t.

But oh, she’s finally home. She closes her eyes, relishing the smell of Mulder’s aftershave mingled with the scent of the roses he had delivered to her office just a week before those goddamned agents showed up at the hospital. She remembers bringing them home, carefully tucking them into a vase of water. They’re beautiful, she had told him. Not as beautiful as you, he had replied, his hand tucked against the small of her back.

“Who are you?”

Scully starts at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, opening her eyes to see a woman standing at the threshold where kitchen becomes living room.

A woman.

Tall. Brunette. Holding a glass of water. Wearing only a t-shirt and a confused expression.

“This is my house,” Scully says, the words scraping past a throat that has gone as dry as desert sand. “Who are you?”

The woman stares back, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt uncomfortably.

No, not her t-shirt. Mulder’s t-shirt. Scully’s favorite shirt that Mulder owns, because it’s soft and worn and somehow still smells like the cologne he wore the first time she slept in his arms, even after all these years.

I’m going to be sick, this is not happening, oh Mulder what is going on…

The woman finally speaks, clearing her throat. “He – he said he lived alone.”

I’ve wandered into the wrong house, Scully thinks numbly. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.

But no. That’s Mulder’s shirt, and that’s the drinking glass my mother gave to me when we moved here. That’s the couch where Mulder and I made love less than a month ago.

“Scully.”

This can’t be the wrong house, because that’s Mulder. He’s standing in front of her, and he’s not wearing my favorite shirt, he’s not wearing a shirt at all, and he looks terrified, and oh God I’m going to be sick…

“Mulder?” Her voice sounds tiny. Her hands are still freezing, but now her palms are sweating as her stomach churns. Please explain this, Mulder, she begs silently. Please please please please.

“Who is she?” When the other woman speaks again, Scully wants to scream at her. She has no right to ask that. Scully is the one who should be demanding an explanation. She’s the one who deserves an answer. Not this stranger, with her morning-after hair and her long smooth legs brushing the hem of Mulder’s shirt.

I’m going to be sick.

“Mulder?” This time, her voice is louder, sharper, less please tell me this isn’t what it looks like and more how fucking could you.

He doesn’t acknowledge the other woman’s inquiry, instead stepping toward Scully with his hand outstretched. “Scully,” he begins, and her name on his lips tells her all she needs to know. She’s heard him speak her names countless times – calling to her for help, playfully teasing her, comforting her in times of distress, moaning in ecstasy as she coaxes him to climax, even shouting in anger during a particularly intense argument.

Never – never – has he said her name with this desperate, helpless tone threaded through it.

The woman has disappeared, and Scully can hear her in the bedroom – our bedroom  – gathering her things, probably eager to get away from this house – our house – and whatever is about to happen between them.

Mulder moves forward, and she sees panic etched into the lines of his face.

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as the full realization of what’s happening settles over her. “No,” she chokes, swallowing against a throatful of stomach acid. “No, no, no.”

“I’m sorry, Scully, please let me explain.”

Her eyes fly open, and she wraps her arms around herself. “Explain?” Her voice catches on a sob. “What is there to explain?” She stares at his face, his beautiful face, and it’s more than she can take, his eyes full of regret. She backs away, grappling for the doorknob.

“Scully, don’t leave. Please.”

Two weeks, Mulder!” Her stomach aches, her head pounds, and I need to get out of here, this is not happening. “I was gone two fucking weeks!”

She is hot and cold at the same time, her clammy palms sliding against the doorknob as her fingers shake uncontrollably. She feels the heat of his body behind her, and oh God, she wants to lean into him, just to warm her hands, but nonononono, she has to leave, she cannot stay another minute in this house.

When he places a hand against her shoulder, her entire body recoils. “Get the hell away from me,” she gasps, her breaths coming in shorter spurts now, her lungs burning.

The doorknob finally relents, and she shoves against the door, stumbling outside where it’s still so cold, it’s not home, and she can’t breathe, and fuck you Mulder how dare you how fucking dare you.

He follows her across the yard. “Scully, please.”

She doesn’t break stride or respond. She’s almost to her car when she feels his hand catch the arm of her coat. She jerks free, but his grasp is lighter than she expected, and the heel of her boot slides against a leftover patch of ice. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have caught herself. The reflexes instilled in her all those years ago in FBI field training never failed her before, but she can’t even catch her breath so how is supposed to support her full weight?

Maybe she doesn’t even want to.

Her knee meets the ground with a sharp crunch, and she hisses in pain.

Immediately, Mulder is at her side. “Oh God,” he says, and reaches for her again. She slaps his hand away, and finally the tears she’s been fighting break through, streaming hot against her chilled face.

“In our bed, Mulder,” she says bitterly, leaning back against the tire of her car. “I was gone two weeks, and you fucked someone in my bed.” She tries to suck in a lungful of air, but is met with resistance when the breath halts on a sob. So this is what suffocation feels like.

“I was drunk,” he whispers miserably.

“When are you not?”

He flinches, but continues. “I don’t know what happened. Scully, I don’t even know her.”

“Where did you meet her, Mulder?” She glares through her tears. “All this time, while I’ve been working, have you just been out meeting women to bring back to our home? Our bed?”

“Of course not,” he breathes, staring at her in horror. “Never. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did,” she whispers brokenly. “I never believed you would do this. Not in a million years, Mulder.”

“Neither did I.“ His voice is pitiful and sincere.

She swallows thickly. “You betrayed me.”

He sinks all the way down beside her. “I know,” he says quietly. “I know, and I’m so sorry.” There is a heavy silence between them for a moment before he adds, “Scully, you left me.”

Scully shifts to face him, and grits her teeth against the pain that the motion sends shooting through her knee. “You’re unbelievable,” she spits venomously. “You screw another woman in my bed, on the sheets you bought for me on my last birthday, and you’re making this my fault?” She fumbles with the top of the tire, trying to pull herself to her feet.

“Scully, stop,” Mulder pleads. “You’re hurt – your leg.”

“You’re damn right I’m hurt,” she snaps. “And it has nothing to do with my leg.”

She gives up on standing for the moment. “You never answered my question,” she tells him, her eyes burning hot into his.

“What question?”

“Where did you meet her? I’ve never known you to socialize, but clearly, there are a few parts of your character I somehow missed in all our years together.”

He stares at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I went on a walk and ended up at a bar. It’s a couple miles down the road. I had more than I planned, and she – she offered to drive me home.”

Scully folds her arms tightly around her midsection. The tire is wreaking havoc on her back, but she barely notices.

“Classy, Mulder.” She closes her eyes again, but the tears fall anyway.

He sighs. “You left, Scully. You just left, and you wouldn’t return my calls. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back.”

Scully tenses as another wave of nausea washes over her. “I left because you wouldn’t leave the house unless it was to spiral back into your fucking paranoid obsessions!” 

She covers her face with both hands. “You can’t keep doing this,” she sobs. “You can’t keep hurting me, and then demand that I apologize instead.”

“When have I done that?” His voice is laced with disbelief. “When have I ever done that, Scully?”

Fuck you Mulder fuck you fuck you fuck you –

“Fuck you,” she cries, gripping the edge of the tire again and heaving herself to her feet. “I don’t need you.” 

She ignores the throbbing in her knee when she puts weight on it. “I don’t need anyone,” she says, her voice breaking. “I think we both know I’ve survived greater losses.” She wrestles with her purse, digging for her keys. “But it’s fine. I don’t need any of you.”

Mulder touches her shoulder, and she shrugs him away again. “Don’t touch me.” She yanks her car door open. “I told you to get away from me.”

“Scully, I’m sorry,” he says weakly. “You may not need me, but I need you. I always have.”

“You didn’t need me last night,” she tosses back viciously as she forces key into ignition. “I can’t take care of you anymore, Mulder. Figure it out.”

He positions his body so that she is blocked from closing the door. “Scully,” he tries again, his voice echoing with despair. “I’m begging you. Please. You came back for a reason. Please don’t leave again.”

Her chin trembles as she answers him in a voice as brittle as dry ice. “I left for a reason, too.”

She grasps the door handle in her hand despite the remaining tremors. “Move.”

He slowly backs away, and at last she sees tears shining in his eyes. It’s too late, it’s too much this time, I can’t.

The sound of her slamming door causes him to jump. The pressure she places on her gas pedal makes her moan with pain as her knee protests the movement.

When she glances in her rearview mirror, she sees a tear-blurred image of her entire world, standing with his arms hanging helplessly at his sides.

He’s still not wearing a shirt, she realizes.

Go back inside, Mulder. It’s too cold out here.

I would know.

END.

Before you ask, yes, there will almost certainly be a follow-up.

Biscuit | Alfie Solomons

This was just going to be a snippet but i love dogs so much it turned into a full blown essay. Also, I feel like this is the same girl from ‘The Messenger Boy’ imagine.

“Alf… you’ve got a dog.”

“I do love, yeah.” Alfie half mumbled in return with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth. You could smell the peppermint from where you leant in the doorframe. He was half dressed and there was a dog sat to his side turning its head with every movement Alfie made.

“Since when.”

“Oh, ages.”

“Ages? Was he here when I stayed over last?”

“Yeah, love, he was, yeah.”

“Why didn’t I see him?”

“Oh, he comes and goes as he pleases, don’t he.”

“… so he ain’t your dog?”

“No, he is, right. He just lets ‘imself in an’ out.”

You looked at Alfie a little baffled as he leant down to spit out toothpaste and rinse the sink.

“What’s his name then?”

“Biscuit.”

Keep reading

“Try not to die, Huntress,” she says as the Harvesters roar in over the dunes. 

Imperious, Eris thinks - if ever there were a woman born to be a Queen, this is she. No wonder she is the source of so many legends - one glimpse of her bright armor, gleaming in the ruddy light of Martian noon, and Eris believes them all.

Beside glorious Wei Ning, the wall of shield-sisters holds firm, unconcerned with the ineffective Harvester-fire, hardly blinking as the troops drop.

There are more than Eris expected. More than any of them expected - far more. None seem concerned. Behind the line of Titans, countless Ghosts work through the wreckage of the Collapse to recover…something. Something they feel is important - important enough to make a stand.

She pulls the rifle from her back. It has been her crutch for the last month, the tool she uses to navigate the endless sight-lines of the wide open sands, and the legion that has hosted her these past few months has not stopped needling her over it. 

A greenhorn’s weapon, they used to tell her. A coward’s weapon. The whispers faded when they heard her name, when they saw the overlapping tally marks etched the full length of the long, worn barrel - when they heard what she had done at the Gap. Now she recognizes the gentle ribbing for what it is; some sort of Titan bonding behavior. 

And they call the Hunters strange.

“Shields!” Wei Ning yells, as barrages from the distant Colossi rain down upon the Wards that blossom at her call. Dull explosions, visible through purple voidlight, shatter atop their heads, but their leader stares through it all, toward the lines of Phalanxes that march over blood-red dunes. 

“Hold, Sisters,” she says, arms clasped behind her back, “Until you can smell them.” 

Two Titans to a Ward. One carrying the Blessing, one the Fist. It is a mark of respect that Eris shares the Ward of Wei Ning and her shield-sister; the Ward of the commander of the Martian Shield-Lines - not just in name, but in the heart of every Titan on the planet. 

Either that, or it means Wei Ning thinks she cannot take care of herself.

Not a Queen, Eris thinks, an Empress.

Psions open fire from a distance, and Eris wonders again why they cannot understand that their bullets will never penetrate the Ward. Something very much like fear drives the legions here, some sick desperation that Eris can sense in every ambush, every assault. Not for the first time she wonders what forced the Cabal to Mars.

The Phalanxes grow larger, Ghosts still buzzing frantically through half-alive computing systems.

“Hold,” Wei Ning says again, this time a whisper that only Eris can hear, and she is certain the Titan is talking to herself. “Huntress, I’m afraid your long rifle may be useless when the fighting grows close. There’s still time to trade it out for a real weapon.”

Eris hears the laughter on her voice, as the huge woman pulls the sleek shotgun from the holster on her back, leans it back against her shoulder. The words on her right gauntlet glint purple-red; words that any Guardian stationed on Mars for more than a week can recite by heart.

“I’ll try to leave some for you,” Eris says, checking her magazine, and beside her Wei Ning’s shield-sister chuckles. 

She has seen Wei Ning’s Lines fight before, has watched them fall upon unsuspecting legions like the eagles from the old books, and she has learned enough about their kind that she knows it must kill their leader to stand and wait and defend, rather than take the fight to the Cabal. And yet that is what they do, and the muffled explosions beyond the Wards do not shake the grim calm of the Titans.

It is Wei Ning who leads the charge at last, as she always does, tearing from the Ward like a bolt of lightning, her fist shattering the skull of a legionnaire, two quick coughs from her shotgun felling the closest of the Phalanxes.

Eris has danced this dance before, and by the time the Titan whose Ward she shares has reached the battle line, Eris has neatly sidestepped from the bubble, lifted her rifle, and removed the head of a Centurion.

One, she thinks, and then the fight is on.

Wei Ning, to Eris’ dismay, is right. Landing shots grows more and more difficult as the lines blur, as Titans and Phalanxes crash together and the lone Huntress is buffeted by the changing tides of battle. Still, she is quick and sharp enough to find a line, here and there, and when she does she does not miss.

The Cabal do not stop. At first, they fall like the cannon fodder they are, but slowly - so slowly Eris is not certain that the Titans see it, close as they are - the sheer numbers begin to overwhelm the lines of gleaming plate. They are being pushed back; herded, almost. But wherever the Cabal begin to gain the upper hand, Wei Ning crashes through them, dragging her Shield-Sisters behind her, leaving corpses in her wake.

Eris knows that it will not be enough. 

She has abandoned her rifle, and now it is her cannon that does her bloody work. Before long her arms ache from its tireless kick, but still the Cabal come in an unending wave, their fear of death outweighed by their fear of whatever waits behind them. And die they do, in droves; they fall to Wei Ning’s fist, they fall to Eris’ cannon, they fall to callous lines of barking shotguns. 

Then a Titan falls. A Defender, caught off guard when her Ward finally shatters. And then another. The purple blisters on the dust begin to drop, and no new Wards blossom to take their place. The Lines shift, to shield the fallen, to allow for Ghost revival. And still the Ghosts ask for time. 

Across the dunes, Wei Ning, indomitable, drives her knee into the face of a Colossus, takes its head with her, but around her the Lines have begun to falter. Eris pulls her rifle from its sling again, yells into the screaming wind and sand, yells to call for a retreat; but this is not her Line, this is not her planet, and these are not Hunters.

It is not until Wei Ning, standing strong atop a dune, makes a motion with her hand that the Lines begin to fall back toward lonely Eris Morn, auto rifles keeping the ever-advancing wall of Cabal shields at bay as best they can, Eris’ own scope preying on those stupid enough to show their ugly faces.

The Ghosts are slow, so slow, but whatever they want from this dead place will have to be taken soon or be lost to the relentless march of the Cabal. Eris hopes that it is worth the ammunition, because their re-grouping has become a full-blown retreat, has become the desperate, crouching, backwards shuffle that Eris remembers from the Gap, and Traveler take her if she will watch another Guardian die.

The Light finds her knives, and the Trance consumes her. She runs through lines of retreating Titans, skips through rows of bulky armor now dulled by sand and munitions-fire, and she carves a hungry path through the advancing Cabal towards Wei Ning, towards the woman who will - who must - pull them from this disaster. 

She reaches the vanguard at last, crackling Light dripping from her armor, and with a final spinning lunge she breaks through to Wei Ning and her shield-sister, her commander’s shotgun still couched in tireless arms, hands still clenched into unbreakable fists.

“Wei Ning! We must leave!” she yells, but Wei Ning does not turn to acknowledge her. 

“Now!” she continues, “Before the Ghosts are taken!”

“Go!” Wei Ning screams, fury in her voice, and she thrusts her shield-sister towards the last defensible position in front of the Ghosts, to where they will make their final stand. And then she turns the full weight of her gaze upon Eris.

“Get behind me,” she growls, and Eris learns what it is like to fight back-to-back with her Empress of Fist and Thunder.

Together they hold the line, buying time for the scattered lines of Titans to retreat. Eris’ rifle may be slow but she is faster than any Titan, and with Wei Ning beside her there is nothing she cannot kill. They kill and kill and kill, with fist and knife and rifle, until Wei Ning grabs Eris and forces her to run, the massive Titan shielding her with nothing but her own bulk.

Eris sprints after the commander, breathing hard, diving in and out of the limited cover, and she is certain that the last sound she hears will be the hiss of Cabal artillery.

Wei Ning does not see the motion, far to their right, that pulls Eris to a stop. She skates ahead, and before long Eris is alone, sheltering behind the ruins of an ancient something. Eris has always seen more than most, and what she sees now makes her blood run cold. In the hollow of a dune, a Titan - her own Titan, the same Defender whose ward she shares - is pinned between two advancing lines of Phalanxes. As she watches, one of them raises a shield to block a shotgun’s shell, and with the same motion it smashes the Titan to the ground. 

Eris runs. She runs over the sand that does its best to trip her, runs through the hail of bullets and rocket-fire, runs toward the tiny purple shape in the distance, not noticing when her shields begin to chatter static.

She is not fast enough. The Phalanx lifts its shield again, slamming the edge into the chest-plate of the fallen Titan; once, twice, three times, and as Eris leaps from the edge of the dune she reaches forward through that endless distance and she pulls - and then she is there, and her long rifle does a shotgun’s work, hitting the Phalanx center-mass before her knife finds the beast’s throat, purple ichor blooming in the sky, and then she is in the dirt, leaning her full weight against the immovable mass of full Titan-plate, struggling even to shift it, as her shields fail and a bullet strikes her arm.

She screams, drops her rifle. Another hits her leg, and she falls to the ground. Around her, the ring of Phalanxes closes. She stares down the barrels of a dozen slug throwers, stares at them and snarls, but before she can lift her cannon something howls out of the sky and the ground shatters in blue arc-light, hurling Cabal soldiers away as though they are children’s toys. Then Wei Ning is beside her, auto rifle laughing at the Darkness, and before long there are no enemies left. With one hand she lifts her fallen squad-mate and hefts her over the shoulders of another Titan who skates away.

She pulls Eris to her feet as well, and her Ghost finally recalibrates and catches up with the damage she’s taken. The pain lingers, and Wei Ning lets Eris lean on a shoulder as they retreat.

“Ghosts have what they came for!” she yells, and Eris nods, trying to catch her breath. 

“What do they want here?” She yells back, as distant Harvesters disgorge yet more troops onto sand burned to glass. She reaches for her long rifle out of habit.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. They can have the place, and may they choke on the dust. Let’s go.”

“Wait. My gun.”

“My shield-sisters have already retreated. We’re not staying. You can get a new one.”

“I’m not leaving my gun!” Eris says, pulling away from Wei Ning.

“Hunters,” the Titan mutters, but she accompanies Eris back to the crater she made herself, and stands guard as Eris retrieves her worn rifle.

The Titans are waiting for them when they return at last, over dunes and away from the ruins the Cabal seem to want so badly, inside a claustrophobic bunker open to the Martian air. Wei Ning passes her helm to a Titan, then kneels in front of her battered comrade. Eris slumps to the ground, pulls her own helmet from her head, and leans against the comfortable weight of her rifle.

“Good eyes, Huntress,” Wei Ning says, not looking as she lightly slaps the Titan’s cheeks. “I should have noticed.”

“How is she?”

“She’ll live. Thanks to you. I suppose that’s what they call - ” her mouth curls into a grin - “‘Fine shootin’.”

Eris smiles a tired half-smile. Her whole body aches. She does not understand how this human wrecking ball appears none the worse for wear, but Wei Ning stands and offers her a hand. Eris takes it, and lets the woman pull her to her feet for the second time.

“You’re no Titan,” says Wei Ning, “But I name you shield-sister nonetheless. You can fight at my back any day, Eris Morn.”

Aside from a handful of appreciative grunts, no one seems to notice. The Titans are already intent on their next objective, but it is enough for Eris that a few nod in her direction. She cannot help the grin that spreads across her face then, as she returns her long rifle to its holster and trails her Empress back out into the alien light.

Once, she had thought that Twilight Gap would break them. Perhaps not. Perhaps it has made them stronger.

Perhaps this is what Pack feels like.