#hard lessons cant hold me down forever

[glowbat]

No matter what, I've always been enough

[separatist-apologist]

I know this isn’t your usual thing but did you like acosf? Why or why not? I love Nesta and was disappointed with it!

It has been SO LONG since I've ranted about ACOSF. Can you believe there was a time when like, I was knee-deep in Neris and was really critical of the IC? It feels like forever ago.

Did I like ACOSF? Brain off, yes, I liked it a lot. It's very much an SJM novel in which centuries old men get to tell near-teenage women what they do/don't need, put them in danger as life lessons, and any bad behavior on said man's part is erased by the fandom in favor of vilifying the woman in question. And before someone tries to come for me, this happens with literally ALL the ACOTAR woman LI's (so save your breath).

Did I like ACOSF? Brain on, no. Cassian is the picture of petulant asshole unable to reign himself in for 5 minutes. Nesta is so successful in pushing the buttons of the general to the night courts armies that you have to wonder how he even got the job?

The plot is thin and falls apart the moment you examine it. Cassian is GENERAL to the NIGHT COURT. And Rhys asks Cassian why he doesn't want more. Why SHOULD he? Does Rhys want more than being High Lord? Does Azriel want more than being spymaster? Cassian holds the highest position for his profession, why should he have to play courtier, too? It's necessary to move the plot forward, since Nesta is effectively trapped in the house of wind, but it bothered me from the jump. Cassian is supposed to be the most powerful warrior, and the idea that somehow its under vauled to...what? Arguing with Eris? Hilarious.

I also dislike a lot of the romance beats in the book. I don't care about the sex/sex plot line, but Cassian spends a lot of time seemingly breaking Nesta down when he internally is aware that she is punishing herself for things that are not her fault. Like he'll think that, he'll feel sympathy...and then he'll laugh when she falls down the stairs. Azriel asks early in if a facial injury Nesta got is an accident, implying it could have been Cassian and that was an ugly moment to me. It pulled me out of the book like oh my god?

I have spoken so much about that hike scene that I'm not touching it here again, but the idea that it was supposed be therapeutic frustrates me. Cassian has no business punishing Nesta for the problems between herself and her sister and literally cant' help himself it seems. Hardly a good look.

Finally, the whole Eris/Cassian/Nesta plot. While I think that people would have liked the Neris pairing regardless of how Eris acted, SJM was working overtime to make Eris sympathetic for her upcoming plot while also making Cassian...what we saw him as...which made people wonder why Cassian was somehow the better person. Because he's IC? Friends with Rhys (who petulantly hates Nesta over her childhood with his wife)? It was hard not to draw comparisons with their situation and think they could have helped each other.

There are a lot of things I liked- Cassian learning to dance, Cassian and Nesta in the prison, Cassian crying when Nesta confesses she doesn't think she's good enough for him because he's so overwhelmed anyone things HE is too good for THEM.

I was never a Nesta hater, and Cassian was my favorite of the bats, so ACOSF was rough for me. I'm doing a big re-read with LB and I admit, I am both excited and dreading getting back to it.

I think ultimately while SJM's personal journeys are her own, the way she conceptualizes trauma and how one moves through it definitely leaves an ugly taste in my mouth. Themes of being broken, ugly, unwanted and damaged and healing through being broken down further by a man who is your forever soul mate have never sat right.

[between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place]

Hello there, i cant believe I almost missed this… or that its been a year since THAT FIC. Thank you so much for blessing us all with your presence in this fandom!!!!!!

My flavor: established relationship post blip aka Brooklyn boys.

My lyric: We've come so far, through the darkest days//The long night's over and I'm starting to believe//I'm not as broken as some made me out to be

(I’ve been obsessing over this lyrics from Running For So Long and them since forever!)

T, darling, thank you for being my cheerleader ever since that first fic and for always yelling with me about these dumb, lovely men 🥰🥰🥰

(so, I was truly planning on doing these prompts in the order I got them but then this whole thing basically came to me while I was falling asleep and one thing lead to another and ... yeah)

I bet you can never guess where this prompt took me.

I’m not as broken as some made me out to be, 2,8 k words, rated T

Read it on AO3 (or under the cut)

Nothing, nothing, a pedestrian crossing the street with a stubby-legged dog bouncing behind them, nothing.

He inhales through his nose, keeps his eye fixed to the scope and keeps counting down the minutes in his head.

A brush of static in his ear piece. With the flick of a switch meditative focus shifts to full battle-readiness.

Then at once a stream of garbled fragments come through, “... ambush … conceal … Barnes … left … watch—” 

His comms give an eardrum-piercing shriek and go stone dead. It’s like someone stuck his head in a vacuum. For a split-second Bucky thinks he’s the one who’s gone deaf, but then the noises of the outside world come flooding back in—distant traffic from the four-lane highway, drunken voices and music spilling out from the clubs two blocks over, a pair of cats howling in the next alley.

“Fuck.” He rips the useless piece of plastic from his ear and pushes up from his sniper’s perch, one hand finding the sheath on his thigh. The weight of the knife in his hand becomes a new anchor point.

Back pressed to the bolted door to the stairwell, Bucky scans the waves of sloping, red-tiled rooftops around him. He doesn’t catch any movement.

The first warning is the hairs on the back of his neck rising. 

A faint crackling buzz fills the air.

He curses soundlessly and wills his sight to penetrate the velvety blackness of the Mediterranean summer night. A bead of sweat stings his eyes. He wets his lips. 

The sharp metallic taste that sticks on the back of his tongue does bad things to his brain.

(a flash of electric blue, the sickening smell of burnt flesh, the cloud of vapor where there had just been a person)

He pinches the skin on his wrist with metal fingers. It pulls him back into the moment a little bit. He sticks his free hand in his pocket and closes his fingers around a flat, hard shape the size of a coin. He squeezes it until the edges digging into his palm threaten to break skin.

A soft whoosh and sudden gush of wind from his eight-o-clock signals another presence on the roof. Bucky’s head twists in the direction of the noise.

Four things happen in quick succession:

A familiar voice calls his name.

There’s a flurry of movement on the next rooftop over.

The crackling noise reaches a peak.

A blue-white pulse cuts through the air, lighting the scene like a camera flash.

At the center of it, two shapes stand like cardboard cut-outs against the black sky. One wields a wide-barreled weapon that radiates with that unearthly light; the other holds a metal disk.

Their target raises his alien weapon. 

Bucky dives toward the figure in red, white and blue.

The night explodes in a blinding light.

+

“That’s it Barnes. You’re done. I’m not gonna be the one to call your boyfriend and tell him a magic shotgun blew out your super soldier brain.”

“Fuck off, Wilson. I was saving your ass,” Bucky spits with adrenaline-fueled vitriol. 

He’s got a splitting headache and no patience for sanctimonious lessons about sticking to mission protocol instead of protecting careless assholes running around with a shield and a hero complex.

Sam just glares back at him, arms crossed over his chest. The wings still on his back add to the air of dignified authority, only lessened by the tired droop of his shoulders.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky can see Maximoff and Belova, perched cross-legged on the low brick wall, exchanging meaningful looks.

A slight figure in all black breaks away from the group of squabbling agents from at least five separate local and international agencies, and strides toward their little huddle.

“Stand down, boys.” Natasha flashes a semi-threatening smile at them. “We’re not done here yet.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asks, blinking away the signs of fatigue and squaring his shoulders as he turns to face her.

“Just some clean up.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Seems we got all these idiots rounded up, but a couple of them apparently thought they could make a break for it by dumping the evidence in the harbor. Local law enforcement aren’t thrilled to have potentially radioactive alien tech polluting their waters, so we’ve been volunteered to help out.”

Her announcement is met by a chorus of groans.

+

Dawn breaks as they file into the quinjet. 

Bucky stays back while Wanda maneuvers the vibranium-enforced box containing one of the seized weapons into the cargo hold. A humorless security council official had been called in and begrudgingly authorized them to oversee its transport to S.W.O.R.D:s New York lab. 

That a bunch of Thanos-admiring wannabe-nazis managed to dig up buried experimental Hydra weapons of extraterrestrial origin, is in and of itself a non-ideal situation. These particular weapons happening to hit a bit too close to home was only icing on the cake.

Bucky grabs a water bottle from the cooler to rinse the foul, rubbery taste from his mouth. He picks a seat close to the cockpit, straps in, and lets his head drop back against the wall. 

His hands have bunched into fists, the plastic bottle crumpling between his fingers. He flattens them on top of his thighs.

The engines roar to life.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to unclench his jaw. The headache settles at the base of his skull.

+

“A souvenir?”

Bucky lifts his head as Natasha takes the empty seat beside him.

They’re coasting over the Atlantic with Yelena in the pilot’s chair.

He opens his hand and flips the gold-colored medallion between his fingers. He holds the keychain with the ring linked around his ring finger and runs his thumb over the inscribed coordinates for a place where the earth opens at your feet and the sky is tapestry strewn with small lights.

“A promise.”

“Hmm.” Natasha tilts her head like she’s considering his answer. A smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “Not exactly traditional. But at least you didn’t go off and get married in Vegas without inviting any of your friends.”

He doesn’t gape at her or betray his surprise in any other way, but has no doubt she can tell anyway. “Steve told you about … ?”

She raises her eyebrows in a way that says who do you take me for?

“Fair enough.” He clips the keychain back in its place in his pocket. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

Green eyes glitter with barely concealed amusement. “Was it?”

He opts not to answer her.

The glitter hardens to gleaming stones. “Why are you here, James?”

That question catches him off guard more than her knowing about the engagement.

“What do you mean? We had the mission,” he attempts.

She doesn’t bother responding to his deflection.

“Where else would I be?” he asks, a bit more defensively than he means to.

That earns him another raised eyebrow and full, no-holds-barred sarcasm. “Oh, I don’t know—how about Brooklyn? You know, where Steve ‘I have a martyr-complex and can’t let anyone save the world without me’ Rogers is cozying up in your brownstone.”

Bucky sighs. The headache has traveled up to his temples. He pushes the heels of his hands against his eye sockets.

“Your boyfriend put you up to this?”

He takes some satisfaction in noting the way the word boyfriend makes her eyelid twitch ever-so-slightly before he pushes on. “I thought you would get it. This. It’s what we do. Making things right. Protecting people.” He pauses and meets her eyes. “Crossing off names.”

Natasha looks down at her hands. She shakes her head once from side to side.

“I’m done with that. That’s not why I’m here. I figured the whole ‘dying to save the world’ bit was grounds enough for me to get out.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Bucky follows her gaze to the row of seats on the other side of the cabin—where Sam is sleeping, mouth open, with Wanda’s head resting on his shoulder—and watches it soften into something almost unrecognizable.

When she turns back to him her smile is wry, but there’s a raw vulnerability there he can’t remember ever being afforded to see before. “It’s a bitch, loving people.”

She shakes her head again, grimacing like she’s thought of a joke. “You know, the first time Steve stayed back from a mission, I nearly had to chain him to the wall.”

A pain he knows as affection lances through the gaps in his ribs. “Punk,” Bucky mutters.

They sit in silence as the jet hurls them through the mid-Atlantic night; moving forward and back in time.

Natasha leans down and picks up two containers of high-energy, high-protein sludge from the cooler box. She hands him the chocolate flavored one. It tastes like the idea of chocolate and doesn’t really do anything to ease the gnawing hunger that’s starting to make itself known. He downs half of it in one go.

“What—” Bucky cuts himself off, not knowing if the question he’s thinking of is one he should be asking or even wants to know the answer to. 

Except, he thinks he needs to know.

“What was he like, during … when we were—” belatedly, Bucky realizes that we includes the man sleeping opposite them, who Natasha Romanoff a moment ago admitted to loving, and wants to bite his tongue off “—gone.”

She doesn’t say anything at first. He stares at an uneven weld in the floor.

“He … he never stopped. Never stopped working, never stopped hoping. Not really. But—” Natasha takes a deep breath, as if asking if he’s sure he wants her to continue.

“But?”

She touches two fingers to the back of his wrist. When he lifts his gaze, she looks him straight in the eyes, face impassive.

“But that’s also what broke him down, I think. Steve was a leader. He would talk to everybody else about moving on, moving forward, but the only thing he could bear to look at was the distant past. I think that hope was the only thing that kept him standing—and if he dared to name it, it too would crumble to dust in his hands. So he kept quiet and held on until his fingers were worn to the bone.

“Sometimes, I got to his place and there was a second before he opened the door when I wondered if—this time—he would be gone.”

The cloyingly sweet chocolate curdles in Bucky’s mouth and he has to will himself not to gag. You wanted to know.

He swallows down the bile and the things that want to claw their way out of his gut. “I didn’t—Was he … I know it was bad. But this, it’s the thing we don’t talk about.” Because he’d been afraid of asking, of knowing. Because he’d selfishly told himself he was sparing Steve the pain of carving up old wounds.

Natasha, because she is Natasha, doesn’t look at him with pity or spare him any blows. “He was always bad, when it came to you.”

That hurts in a different way, the ache of broken bones that never set right.

“I know we, what we are, isn’t exactly normal or …”

She laughs then, even if it’s quiet so as not to disturb the others. “James. Take a look around you. Normal’s not really in the cards for people like us.”

She looks across the cabin again. Her hand is still resting on top of his. He flips his own palm up and she laces their fingers together.

“We do the best with what we got and learn to accept that we can have the things that are given to us.”

+

It’s still night in Brooklyn.

The door to the apartment locks behind him with a soft click. The place is quiet, but the presence of another person is still palpable.

Bucky stands on their hallway carpet and lets out a long breath. His shoulders slump forward. The sense of relief that hits him is so sudden and powerful he could almost cry.

He unlaces his boots and walks on socked feet through the dark rooms. In the bathroom he discards the pieces of his uniform one by one and piles them on the floor. Then he flicks the lights on and looks into the mirror and waits for the Soldier to stare back at him.

The person in the mirror grimaces. His face is lined and streaked with dirt. His eyes are a dull gray under the harsh fluorescents. Tired—not lifeless like a machine, but the way only someone who’s alive can be tired.

He pulls out the elastic holding up his hair and lets it drape around his face, sweat-damp and limp, and still he sees only himself.

He washes in the sink, with the meticulous care of a ritual. Dirt and grime and blood stains pure-white porcelain and is rinsed away.

In the towel cupboard there’s clean underwear and that ridiculous, fluffy bathrobe he’ll never admit to wearing around the apartment whenever Steve is out.

The kitchen gets light from the street outside. There’s a dish of leftover creamy mac and cheese in the fridge and he devours it leaning against the kitchen counter. 

He leaves the dish in the sink, brushes his teeth, hangs up the robe on its peg.

He walks toward the bedroom with slowing steps, like he’s not really sure it’s actually there, that his oasis isn’t just a mirage in the desert.

He slinks in through the door and holds his breath until he sinks down on the edge of the mattress. Nothing stirs. Silvery moonlight pokes in through the slit in the curtains. Bucky sits with his hands on his knees and watches it trip over the cracks in the floorboards.

“Hey.” A scratchy whisper makes him turn around.

“Hey, you. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Even half-asleep, Steve demands to know how the mission went, and scolds himself for his absence.

Standard mission, Bucky tells him. It’s a white lie, he tells himself.

It’s a testament to how tired Steve really is—and to a level of trust Bucky can’t wrap his head around—how quickly he relents once he’s confirmed everyone is all right.

He lies down in their bed and Steve, sleep-drunk and sweet as anything, curls up to him. Without reservation.

Bucky cradles his jaw and traces the shape of him, the softness, the way he yields and melts under a tender touch—melts to fill cracks and smooth out jagged edges.

It’s the most precious thing he’s been given. And no, he doesn’t think that he deserves it, could ever deserve it—but he’s starting to think he could learn to accept it.

To have and to hold.

He thinks Steve’s fallen asleep when he opens his mouth and confesses to the darkness. “I think this was my last one. I think I’m done.”

The arms around him tighten their grip.

+

“Morning.” He slides out a chair and plants his elbows on the kitchen table.

“Morning, Buck,” Steve greets him over the shoulder from the counter where he’s putting together … something with oatmeal and yogurt and fruits. (Bucky’s the first to admit his own knowledge of 21st century cooking isn’t the most extensive.) "Sleep all right?"

Bucky grunts an affirmative. He could have done with another four hours, but what sleep he did get was calm and undisturbed by replays of yesterday’s mission.

He makes a grateful grab for the mug of steaming coffee Steve puts down in front of him. 

Steve lingers by the table, hands hanging by his sides. Bucky sacrifices the feeling in his tongue for a glorious mouthful of coffee and waits for him to speak.

“Did you mean what you said? About quitting,” Steve says quietly. He’s got his eyes cast down, tracing the pattern of the table cloth.

Bucky’s throat closes up unexpectedly. “Yeah,” he croaks out.

When Steve looks up at him, eyes shiny with hope, he wants to bang himself over the head for not getting here sooner. 

“Why now?” Steve asks. “What changed?”

“Had a talk with Romanoff. She’s got our number by the way.” He reaches out and touches a fingertip to the dog tags hanging over Steve’s t-shirt; his name resting in the only real home he's known in this lifetime.

Steve smiles. “Figures.” 

He folds his fingers around Bucky’s wrist and keeps his hand there, pressed to his chest. “Welcome home, Buck,” he whispers.

The way Bucky’s eyes prick must be a delayed reaction to the coffee scalding his throat. 

“Thanks for waiting, sweetheart.”

“Always.”

[herecomesmary]

I'm going down the spiral again. But feels like it's running really fast, like a waterpark slide. I always loved waterparks. When I was 9 we had a summer where my parents would take us to the waterpark at my home town every single day. We went there in the morning and left when it was about to close, it was a blast. My sister was a 2yo baby, my middle brother was 6, and my older brother was 16. At that time, when I liked or felt comfortable with something, I'd go for that thing forever and ever. So I'd always go for the same slide. Till the day my oldest brother challenged me to go to the biggest slide in the park, it had like a red parrot on top of it. I did, screaming the shit out of my lungs. I hit the water hard and felt really dizzy so I didn't come up right away, and here's the thing: that moment I was under water and couldn't hear the mess of the waterpark, and didn't felt the real weight of my body, did t had oxygen going in and out my lungs, must be one of the most peaceful and happy moments of my life. Right after, my brother took me off the pool cause he thought I fainted, and mom and dad were about to kill him for getting me killed at the water slide.

I never went to that one again. But the feeling got stuck with me. Hitting the water so hard I couldn't think that one time was enough for me to fantasize with this in very different moments. I used to sink for a couple minutes every end of a swimming lesson, trying to put my mind into place. Now when I shower i close my ears with my hands, close my eyes and hold my breath. Resembles diving a bit. Yesterday, tho, i got the feeling of the waterslide. When I got all the pieces together and understood what happened it was like hitting the pool after a 17m fall. And when I was under, everything was quiet, just like the real time. But now I had to go up for air in despair alone, and the surface was freezing cold. I've been floating on cold water since that. Everything shakes, I have 90yo lady hands, and from my neck down everything's numb. But that's just metaphorical of course. Everything happens in my mind till it starts manifesting physically. I threw up twice, had poor lunch, and no water. I've been holding tight not to cut myself, but that's something that's always a matter of time. And thinking about what I was supposed to be doing is paralyzing. Moving onward is paralyzing. I cant think of work, or fun. I cant think of anyone touching me, I don't feel like having anyone close at all. It's a nightmare replying texts, and I don't even get that many.

I was wondering if it's possible to vanish from earth like you were never here in the first place, erase every print you left. Sounds even more perfect than dying

[marvelousstardust-blog]

If you was crime id be lawless, caress your mentals. I know you got independant credentials, but hold the caucus, my election is official, my direction super missile, i know u used to superficial, past life horace, i want to know all your synonyms, memorize your thesaurus, its in them eyes from which you pour this, magnetic attraction,

Energetic majestic, lay you on 10 million tons of rose petals, you so hot you could make 10 billion tea kettles whistle, milk your mind like thistle.all up in the wind but not gone forever, these thoughts all on you like genius on clever, leave it to beaver i think i got the fever, i need a psych nurse, ta help me rehearse my next verse, leave behind the past cuz its empty like no coins in a purse,

Circumstances can be a curse or a blessing, philosophy lesson the stressing, like sins in confession, my weapon is cosmic, consciousness is god sick, coincidentally benevolent, elevate my relevance, educate malevolent,

Once more I pour my heart into a mold to be cast into a Shakespearean tragedy,  stakes and spears in the form of emotions stabbing me,  circumstances garbed in fate grabbing me, dragging me down into the darkness so thick photon's can't penetrate, it becomes the lungs oxygen,  what used to be toxic becomes a friend, perhaps the only,  my raps are lonely, without your lips, mines only just a pair, it's seems unfair the lost tracings of fingertips over hips and bare derrière it's hard to bare absence of Carmel Carnal incense driftly loitering in our air perhaps it holds a message if only we could translate we could cypher how nature orchestrate it's divine scheme of affairs, I know what the law of rhythm brings the higher the pendulum swings, if you don't feel this then dream on to a place  where you are lost in your heart and head ,

headed somewhere ,the dreaded nowhere, beyond the fabric of space time n facetime my pantomime to taste my rhymes climatic climb without physical form, my brain herds words like cattle, keep it wet like seatle, when them hips rattle. Our lips battle.

My darts pierce the heart, thread your emotions,

DisproPortions of poisonous pain potions got me drifting slow motion amoung the daily comotion ,somedays it feels like theres no options, wanting to snuff the spark in this,

Sink into the darkness among those who hiss, wont miss the superficial bliss, cold bold bag of bones, sold the throne, prone to roam alone homeless ronin atoning lone ranger trying to phone home but im homeless, cant stress stress enuff, stuff my think poems in my memories catacombs, trippen with gnostic gnomes,

Feelings sometimes feeling useless like a bald cat with a comb, a sip from loves cauldren can scald men, callen all children of the corn, forwarn the fallen and torn, although its taste we relish, we fell from wishful thinking, i could tell you but I'drather show you what your worth, i know universal forms, i know plato, mold my ideas like plato epoxy, my grammar got mad glitter and glamour, im thor with a hammer, ive seen beyond this obscene prison, envision my soul division in a prism, my wisdom formulate a new state of matter, i violate federal mandate, mindstate clatter, my mic swagger like mick jagger, order up a barrage at cloak and dagger, we both dream mitchells ice cream, like the way your eyes beam like lightning striking my pulse rhythm, i speak wisdom which is all my crytalized pain, au bon, make 4th dimensional chocolate diamonds fudgy fudgy, sit back and observe how i set the curve, for those i serve, im out for justice, im not much, but im just this much dutchness. So trust this is a tale for time to tell, n it will tell it well.

[sugathot]

praise.

sugawara koushi x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: NSFW, mentions of body issues and self-deprecation 

“So, baby… mind repeating what you were whispering to the mirror earlier?”

You can barely get any words out with how sloppy your mouth looks, bumbling little moans falling from your lips and try as you might you just can’t seem to work past them— a little sliver of drool trailing down your chin.

Sugawara quite likes seeing you like this, eyes hazy and at a loss for words as his fingers curl and press up into wet gummy walls. There’s a certain needy glaze in your look as you stare him down— trying to communicate something, nodding your head in hopes that’ll take; it’s clear it’s hard to form words right now, his pretty little girlfriend much too finger-hungry to even think about letting an answer slip past your lips. 

Sugawara thinks you should know better though and try a little harder, he’s been very clear on this kind of thing before.

“Baby,” your head throws back when a second finger slips over your petaled entrance, pushing into your pulsing cunt and spreading the walls apart in a slowwww stretch. “You gotta use your words— c’mon, speak up for me pretty girl. Tell me what you were saying earlier, in the mirror.” Fingers snap back together, curving upwards and right into your spongy g-spot— rubbing his finger pads into the soft part of your walls until wet clicking noises fill the room and your back is arching. “Something about being ugly, hm? Remind me baby, c’mon.”

He’s working away at your sopping cunt as little cries and sniffles make Sugawara grin against the marked skin of your neck his lips marred and maimed; fingernails are digging into his shoulder but he can barely feel it, much too focused on the gasps leaving your lips as you mumble away and he nods in encouragement. 

“I… I said I look really ugly today…”

The man only nods again, eyebrows raising in expectation— fingers shucking in and out of your pulping little pussy, dragging against puffy walls as Sugawara pulls out and slamming back into your sweet spot with a sickly sweet grin. “Go on, sweetheart— you’re doing so well.”

It’s a favorite game of his— lesson, actually, raw desire building up in the pit of his gut the longer his fingers fuck up into you, ignoring his cock straining hard against slacks. He’s always been rather big on positive thinking, finding ways to deal with the more ugly emotions that come along with growing up and life. It’s what makes Sugawara a good teacher, friend or family member— he takes the most pride of it in the relationship field, especially when his efforts have you slowly realizing how silly your thoughts had been when he’s so willing to spread you open like this.

He had been a little nervous to combat your more destructive thoughts with a more sexual approach at first, keeping his sweet self during and trying to build you back up with his words alone. It worked, at times, until it didn’t and it was everything you heard before; that meant a switch up in technique.

You responded to this much better anyways.

“A-and that I hate how I look— o-oh~!” The sudden pressure against your clit must be surprising, as your head flops to the side with a moan when Sugawara begins circling the little bud around. The man knows he’s making it hard for you to speak, of course he knows— there's a wild grin spreading on his face that’d look quite pretty if he wasn’t knuckle deep in your sopping cunt and making you keen with every flick of his fingers. Seeing you reduced to mumbles and moans and trying so so hard to speak in hopes of pleasing him is a pretty sight, but Sugawara can’t be so mean forever— he’s still teaching you a lesson, and you haven’t quite passed yet.

“And what is it today, hm? Thighs, stomach, face… what were you being so mean to today?” His head tilts, gazing down with heated eyes at the way your pussy sucks in his fingers with each pump, breath hitching in a way throws off his dominant groove. Even when he’s taking care of you, helping you see what he sees with a little more rewarding of a coercion, Sugawara still is a man in love and weak for your body.

Your walls tighten and he about curses, fingertips tapping into the spongy muscle of your g-spot with every complaint and self-criticizing insecurity falls from your lips. He broke you easy this time, almost like this was exactly what you wanted when Sugawara found you in tears and hating on your body earlier. Usually it takes a little longer to coax the words out from your mouth, embarrassment typically strong enough to zip your lips up but you’re being a good girl today, letting him work it out of you nice and easy as greedy walls flutter around his fingers.

“You’re so pretty baby,” he coos, placing a gentle kiss against your trembling lips— tired but blissful under his sweet praise and skilled fingers. Hands come up to cup his cheeks, Sugawara turning to kiss your palms as chocolate eyes meet hazy (e/c). “You’re my pretty girl, right?”

You yelp when he nips you for nodding, pressing firmly into your sweet spot and stilling. “Say it.” When you pause, his eyes narrow. “Or you won’t cum.”

That seems to get you, eyes wide in panic and fear at his sudden punishing demeanor. His fingers leave your core with a slick pop that goes right to his dick, the whine that falls from your lips is needy and almost painful and Sugawara knows he has you wrapped right around his fingers when he starts sliding down your body. “Come on, use your words.”

“I-I’m your pretty girl, Koushi!”

“There we go, not so hard, right?” His grin is nothing but sweet as Sugawara presses your legs apart and into the mattress— your drooling pussy in perfect bare sight that holding back a groan would hurt. You’re so wet and needy— petaled entrance slicked up by your juices. When Sugawara comes to settle down in between your thighs, his thumbs come to spread you open and he can see pink insides fluttering around nothing. Fuck that’s hot.

“You’re so pretty sweetheart, I just don’t know why you’re so mean to yourself— especially when I got you laid under me like this. You know what that does to me?” A long lick from your dripping slit and up to the pulsing little bud has your body jolting, eyes on him as Sugawara suckles your clit in his mouth with a low groan. You’re close, he can tell by the way your legs close around his head as he pops off your pussy to grin up at you. “Wanna cum, baby?”

The moan that falls from your lips and the way your core presses back into his face with a cant of your hips is answer enough— diving back into your needy cunt and worming his hot tongue between your folds. He’s done teasing for now, satisfied with your words and easy admission of what he deems is true; Sugawara is solely focused on getting you to release right into his mouth over and over again.

Then, he’ll take his time fucking some love into your pretty self.

[bbygirldahyun]

cheer au nayeon finding out dahyun cant swim so she teaches her 🥺

dahyun went to one, singular swimming lesson as a child.

she’d been eager to go, around four years old and still with a bright curiosity for the world in her own, cautious way.

despite it being loud, and there being several other kids she didn’t know, and her being left alone with the swimming instructor while her parents went somewhere else for an hour, she tried to keep her excitement.

and it was fine, really, until the instructor started their first lesson — sticking the mouth and nose under the water to blow bubbles.

the sensation of her face under the water was awful, dahyun too young to have the words to communicate what exactly about it was upsetting her, instead just flat out refusing to do it and breaking down in tears.

so she’d sat at the side of the pool for the rest of the lesson, sniffling and hiccuping watching all the other kids blow bubbles in the water, and she never went back to swimming lessons after that.

into her adolescence, she knew it was odd to say the least that she still didn’t know how to swim, but that memory of her first swimming lesson lingered in her mind, not to mention her already ever present insecurities over her body.

so she never learned, never going to the community pool during the summers as many other students at their school did, not that she’d really want to anyways.

swimming never really came up, that is until she started dating nayeon, who’s family has a pool in the backyard.

nayeon has invited dahyun to swim several times, whether it be a warm day she, sana, and mina are already in the pool and she’d text dahyun to ask if she wanted to join or at one of their sleepovers offering they can go swim if dahyun wants.

dahyun always declines, and nayeon doesn’t push, forever assuming it’s an insecurity thing. she knows dahyun struggles with her self image and she doesn’t want to put any pressure on her to do something like wearing a bathing suit when it could make her feel bad about herself.

but dahyun wants to swim, for the first time in her life wishing she’d stuck it out at swim lessons so she wouldn’t have to embarrassingly admit she doesn’t know how, even now.

“maybe we could go down to the pool and um...you can swim and i’ll just sit at the edge,” dahyun suggests one day. “dip my feet in.”

nayeon gives her a slightly questioning look. “you don’t wanna get in with me?”

dahyun shifts nervously, the admission on the tip of her tongue, eyes on her own lap when she mumbles, “i-i...i can’t swim.”

understanding washes over nayeon’s face. “that’s okay, baby. i can teach you,” she says instantly.

“really? you’d do that?” dahyun asks in awe, and nayeon smiles.

“of course! swimming is really fun, and it’s not hard to learn,” she grins brightly. “you’re so smart i’m sure you’ll get it easy.”

so she leads down to their deck, gently helping dahyun down the steps into the pool, holding her hand. for awhile they stay in the shallow water where they can still touch, just getting accustomed to it.

“did you not grow up swimming?” nayeon asks to make conversation.

“i went to one lesson and hated it,” dahyun sighs. “i cried until i went home, so my parents never bothered to take me back. said i embarassed them.”

nayeon nods, understanding, hating that nobody was patient enough with dahyun to help her learn in her own way, at her own pace.

“well it’s never too late to learn,” nayeon tells her confidently. “you’ve helped me so much with school stuff, it’s the least i can do.”

dahyun comes to find she enjoys swimming, when it’s nayeon guiding her, showing her how to tread and to doggy paddle and telling her she never had to go under the water if she doesn’t want to, or she could try ear plugs and a pinching her nose to keep the water from bugging her.

she feels so proud of herself when she swims from one end of the pool to the other without stopping all on her own, a gleeful grin on her face as nayeon cheers for her, telling her she’s doing great.

“practically ready for the olympics!” she calls, making dahyun giggle.

[red-riot-rat]

G o o d b y e    t o    a    w o r l d

LITERAL ANGST FT. P! LOV X TEEN! READER, MOSTLY HIMIKO TOGA HERE <33

WARNINGS: CURSING, DEATH, BLOOD, YOUCH YOUCH HURT, READER DIES, HIMIKO CRIES, THAT KINDA RHYMED, UHM, kid did NOT proof read this,,, apologies dkfjgndg

WC: 1478

T I M E S T A M P : 6:55 AM

AN: Ive attached an announcement to my rules, right below my masterlist link. please read that!! <3

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“Kid! Please run!” 

Himiko Toga’s voice rings through the debris of the broken down bar. You stumble, your eyes trained on the amount of heroes flooding in, the chaos bound to be caused bouncing in your mind.

You scramble to run, your hands catching you right before you fall as you bolt as fast as you can.

You know this is protocol. You have to go.

Out of everything they have told you, taught you, scolded you for,

This was the lesson that rang through the bars every week, every moment of danger.

‘If we get attacked, you run.’

Its a no matter what, no matter what you’ve witnessed or how scared you are for the others, they want you alive. 

Even if it means without them, you're are so overwhelming important to them.

Above all else.

Run.

And you try your best. Your sneakers thud with every step, feeling the shake in your legs, the anxiety in your brain. 

All you have to do is get to the apartment. The apartment assigned for this moment, and this moment only. The moment were the life of the League depends on.

The one that has been fully stocked since its been bought, the one made for the moments of chaos like this.

Thats all you have to get too. And they will see you there, everyone safe and sound.

Everyone.

The sirens and the yells of heroes bounce in and out of your mind as you ran out the back of the bar, and into the allies that felt like they were constructed for you.

You ran left and right, listening for footsteps behind you, to the left, the right, above you, anything that could give away the presence of a hero.

And there was nothing. 

Maybe that was it. The false sense of security that washed over you. Maybe it caused you to become reckless.

Or maybe it was the fact that you were safe for a split second there, and he ruined it.

The image of Himiko’s terrified eyes, but unending smile burned into your eyes at your sneakers thudded on the concrete in the dead of night.

You turned one  last time, and the apartment building came into sight. The bland grey, and mostly broken windows relived you for only a minute as you focused on the sound of your rapid breathing as you slowed down.

The apartment building itself is practically abandoned, and its not hard in the slightest to get in the grey old building.

Everythings going to plan, although you can still here the sirens go off, but theres no yelling. None at all. 

This is the plan you’ve gone through so many times, over and over again.

Sometimes things go exactly to plan, 

And they’re just not yours.

Slamming the door to the disgustingly decorated apartment complex, you slid down to the floor, your back slumping at you curled into a ball, your face in your hands. Your breathing still rapid, from running from the bar and up the multiple flights of stares, from the anxiety of the whole situation, that anyone and everyone you have ever loved could die right now.

And most of all,

The feeling of eyes on you.

Glaring eyes.

Hero eyes.

Your head rises slowly, unsure of what to do.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

It was never a part of it.

What the fuck now?

A dark haired hero sits on a red sofa, the red matches his glaring eyes as his mangy hair floats up.

“The League’s kid.”

His voice feels mocking and you feel anger build up.

You cant even fucking believe this.

Shota Aizawa is sitting in the apartment everyone considered to be the escape plan.

And all you can do is die.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up from the cold wooden ground. This isn’t a part of the fucking plan.

He rises slowly, your back is still against the wall. Your brain racks through options as your faced with an underground hero, one that’s even defeated Tomura before, even if it was through a sliver of good luck.

God, the way you wished you had that sliver of luck.

Before even thinking, you took off. You legs taking you anywhere that you felt had a chance of survival in.

For fucks sake, you wish you didn’t go into her room.

Out of everywhere you slam the door entering into Himiko’s room, you can feel the immediate pain shes going to suffer through.

The tears, 

The blood,

The absolute anger and havoc herself alone that she can cause.

“There’s no where to run kid. You’ve got two choices.”

But you know the choices. You’ve heard them time and time again. Its either,

Rat on your family and become an enemy of the few people you’ve ever loved,

Or die.

And this time? You don’t have a way out.

Theres no one left to save you anymore.

Clocks stop ticking.

Luck runs dry.

And heartbeats go silent.

You look the man straight in the eye, still glaring red as it runs dry.

You know your choices.

And you know what has to happen.

“You can come with me, unharmed, or I’ll hav-”

“Kill me.” you practically shout at him, the tears building up as your throat closes and nose burn.

“For the love of god, do it.” Your eyes wide, bottom lip trembling and hands balled up, you accept it.

The fact that even though this is not what you want, what anyone in your League wants, it will be the only option. 

And that’s all you can do.

Is watch as the very root of your anger takes your life and adds gasoline to the fire in within the depths of the League.

And just like that you sat on the cold ground once again, leaned against the cute white bed frame Himiko owned, and bled out onto her floor. The warm red ooze left your mouth as well, dripping down your chin.

The worst part out of this situation, isn’t that you’re dying on floor of Himiko Toga’s pastel decorated room, its the fact that her once cute room with forever be haunted by the memory of your blood being spilledt.

And the realization that she was too late to save you. 

You can hear the front door open ever so softly, and hear Himiko call out for you.

The only kid that shes been able to take care of, to trust, and protect for months on end,

Is now dying alone in her room.

And that it itself,

Will cause her to break from the inside out.

And the world will never know true peace again.

Her footsteps echo down the hall you remember running down in a moment of panic, and as her door creaks open theres not much you can do. Expect watch her fall apart in a split second.

“No.. wait please I’m so sorry, please wait, hold on, Tomura- he can- Tomura!” She calls out for the male, who isn’t anywhere near this designated safe space. A destroyed safe place. 

She cradles you in her arms as her tears overflow, and her smile decays into an everlasting pain on her face. She feels helpless, because she is.

All she can do is watch you die as you lay in her arms.

All she can do is know that shes too late.

And you’re so far gone.

“Please stay. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t get here, I-” Her own sobs cut her off, her hands shaking and face distorting into such a clear vision of pain as she strokes your cheek with right hand. Her heavy tears fall as you smile every so slightly up back to her.

Your eyes stare into hers, the ones you used to meet every morning when she would wake you up, or when you needed validation.

“Thank you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, something she can barely hear, but so painfully there. She whimpers, pulling you as close to her body as she can.

“Please stay, just for a- a minute longer please.” She begs you to hold onto any sliver of life you have left, anything at all. But sometimes, you know what has to happen.

Sometimes you don’t hold on.

“I’ll say goodbye soon.” You smile as wide as you can to her, hand resting on hers as your breathing slows. As you watch yourself leave your family.

“Though its the end of the world,” Her brows furrow even further than before and she can feel her stomach churn. The sight of you in her arms has her so overwhelming broken, she’ll never recover.

“Don’t blame yourself,” She smiles as wide as she an as she lets out a broken sob.

You slip right through her fingers.

“Now.” 

She was too late.

[inkykeiji]

Hi sorry it’s been a while!! How are you clari? 🥺 I have a question !! ((If you don’t mind)) I was wondering if you ever feel negative about your writing? I’d find it hard to believe if you do because you are an incredible writer but I was just curious if I felt alone in this :( when I see how you run your blog and how many people you make happy it just makes me contemplate everything and I think I have done everything wrong in terms of writing and what stories I’m writing and how I’m writing them. It’s hard not to compare to other people but I’m trying not to do it so often. I’d really like to know if you deal with thoughts like this and how you work through them! I’m thinking about quitting writing and finding a new hobby because I just feel so awful about my craft but I thought I’d at least drop by and see if you have any input at least! Have a nice day :) -💸

hello sweetpea!!

it’s lovely to hear from you again and i hope things have been well & that you have been staying healthy and safe!!! <333

i want you to know that feeling ‘negative’ about your work is something every creative, regardless of medium or skill, goes through. i think it’s a very natural experience to have; we all doubt ourselves sometimes, or are unhappy with the things we’re creating. no one is perfect, you know??? and i think that as creatives so many of us expect WAY too much of ourselves and hold ourselves to impossibly high standards (i know i most definitely do! it’s something i’m currently working on in therapy, actually. because there is a big difference between being a high achiever and being a perfectionist). there are definitely days where i sit down to write and i hate absolutely everything i’ve put on the page. i don’t ever delete it, though!!! because guess what? progress is PROGRESS, no matter how little, no matter how upset with it you may seem, it is all working to make you a better writer/creator, i pinky promise you that. i always keep everything i ever write for two reasons: 1. it serves as a reminder to show how far i’ve come and evolved as a writer, and how i am constantly getting better even when it doesn’t feel like i am; and 2. it can always always always be reworked/edited/rewritten into something better. i cant tell you how many times i’ve written something, looked at it and went ‘god i fucking hate this’, left it to sit in a document while i work on something else, only to come back and reread it a few days or weeks later with a clearer and fresher mind to go ‘you know what? this isn’t nearly as bad as i thought it was!’ and edited it into something i love.

i know i’ve said this before, but i think it’s really important to keep those pieces, because they give you a really great starting point/jumping off point when you come back to work on them again. sometimes they really do just serve as you getting your ideas down and out into a document or page in the most basic sense; then you can come back to them later and start to really make them into what you originally envisioned. this is an important part of the creative process, in my opinion!!

in short, you are definitely NOT alone in this negative feeling; we ALL go through it in one way or another. additionally, to me, there is no ‘wrong’ when it comes to creating your own art. everything you make is important to your ever-evolving craft, and you as an ever-growing creator. instead of focusing on things you consider ‘mistakes’ or pieces you’ve written that you don’t like, try to use those experiences and view them as something positive: they are ALL lessons and they are ALL continuing to make you a better writer. maybe they’ve taught you what you don’t want to do or things you don’t want to focus on or themes you aren’t interested in; maybe they’ve taught you which styles of writing or narrative you don’t like, or which literary devices you aren’t interested in; the list goes on forever. but they HAVE taught you something. use them as lessons and see them as something wonderful: everything you write makes you a better writer!!! even if its just a tiny step forward, it is still a step forward, it is still a step in the right direction, and it is still you learning. in my opinion, one of the many beautiful things about art in general is that we will never reach the ‘end’ of our individual craft; we will never hit the ‘last level’ and be like ‘welp, i’ve hit the top and there’s nowhere else to go from here, i am ‘the best’ i’ll ever be’. we all continue to get better and better and better as we continue to create because there is NO cap on that. you never stop evolving when you’re a creator, you will always continue to sharpen your skills more and more and more as you continue to create: there is no end, there is no ceiling to hit. the only step backward is when you stop creating! but the steps forward are ENDLESS. practice truly is key!!

it’s a little cheesy, but here are some really great inspirational quotes about comparison that may help you shake this funk a little!! more important than anything, remember that you are YOU; you are one of a kind, you are insanely unique and no one can tell the stories you tell but YOU. personally, i have never felt the need to compare myself to others and i think that this really comes down to understanding that art is such a personal thing, and that we are all so unique and individualistic and that is something to be celebrated. to me, there has never been any comparison to be had, because i am ME and no one else is me except me, just like no one else is them except THEM. in other words, there is no comparison to be had because you simply cannot compare them: they are each individual works by unique individual writers that are made special BY the writers themselves, and i think the list of quotes i've linked you to really encapsulate this idea!!!

i have never once thought about quitting or giving up on writing, because i love it more than anything and it’s all i’ve ever wanted to do with my life. aside from family + health, it is by far the most important thing in the world to me, so that notion has never crossed my mind. but i HAVE felt negative about my work before—literally everyone has, i promise you. and i always push through by reminding myself of my love for writing, how important it is to me, and how this is all serving to make me a better writer.

if you genuinely love and enjoy writing, i urge you not to give up, even if it’s just a hobby you’re doing for fun—especially if it’s just a hobby you’re doing for fun. it’s such an incredible and fantastic way to express yourself, and that’s truthfully one of the most important things here. you should be writing and creating for YOU, first and foremost. sharing it with others is fantastic since it can help people in so many different ways, ranging from bringing them a little joy or escapism to helping them process trauma (depending on what you write, of course. it is ALL important, though); but at the end of the day, the primary reason you should be creating is for yourself <3

i hope this helps a little, and i really hope it makes sense!!! i’m dead tired from yesterday ahahaha so if something is unclear please do not hesitate to ask for clarification! my final note is to just beg you not to give up on creating. please, never stop creating things for yourself, even if it’s in a different medium, even if you don’t share them, even if they’re just private and for you. i genuinely believe it is so good for you and so good for your soul. i know it’s difficult, but try your best not to focus on being ‘good’ (especially at the beginning!!); try to focus on having fun, on expressing yourself, and on enjoying the process as a whole. as long as YOU enjoy it, that’s all that matters. if you don’t enjoy writing, try another artistic medium. i know you have important things to say and important stories to tell, just like the rest of us do, regardless of whether you only tell them to yourself or you choose to share your work with the world <3 best of luck sweetpea!!

[kendricksendrick]

Just saw this and wanna answer a few of them :))) feel free to dm me and im sorry in advance if i take forever to reply lmao

My pronouns are she/her, i went back and forth for a while with she/they but i think she/her is me :)) and im a lesbian

Currently the thing that makes me the most happy is seeing an audience of people enjoying a concert together, i took that SO for granted before covid and ive cried at all 3 concerts ive been able to attend/play at since things began to open up. There was such love in the air from everyone appreciating live music together i cant even express how happy it made me seeing everyone else enjoying things together again.

Something I’m very proud of is my solo clarinet recording from this past semester.

https://youtu.be/KFwxAPf82X0

I worked so hard on it, and actually began learning it just as covid hit, i moved home, my life was turned upside down like so many others but after a year of working on it with my private teacher I’m super proud of where I’m at right now. Its also a little bittersweet tho because I’m getting a new private teacher in the fall (again) and this video really shows how muc ive grown in the past two years w the woman I formerly studdied under. I learned so much from her :)

My pride playlist is garb, and i hold myself on a very high pedestal w my playlists so heres one of my go to’s. Mainly early 2010s bangers, it always lifts my spirits when im sad and is great for parties!!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5mGxIUALVuIYaWAMo4pqdu?si=Ly6ON82hSYi5ozRDL-orjg&dl_branch=1

I dont remember realizing i wasnt straight, but recently i realized all the things i did as a kid that should have been obvious to myself that i wasnt straight. Remembering things lik that makes me laugh, like how didnt i know?? The moment i knew i was gay tho was my first time kissing a girl, it wasnt even good but i was still like yeah this is it.

Fave ship is bechloe, duh

On second thought, bechloe shouldve been a HUGE red flag to myself that ive always been gay like cmon haha

Someone who inspires me is my private teacher. Hearing her play for the first time and realizing shes an actual GOD at what she does showed me like what i could live up to. What i could strive for. Ive always been good at the clarinet, not to suck my own dick, but i practiced the bare minimum when i first started playing bc it was fun, and eventually levelled myself out a bit in high school. It wasnt until i started taking lessons in college that i realized the possibilities, and realized how far ive come in such a short time.

Ok ig i cant link the song that reminds me about pride but ill reblog w it, ive just been listening to it on repeat recently and ig it gives me pride vibes?

Finally id like to thank the first girl i ever had a major fucking crush on for helping me get to where i am w my sexuality. Literally could not have done it wo her. And i hope she never sees this ahaha

[marauder-exe]

Crying and Cuddling- Sirius Black X Reader

Word count: 1,7k

request: Hello, can I request a Sirius Black with the prompts 10, 27 and 44. Ending in fluff, but full of angst. Thank you! 💚

prompts: 10. “I cant do this anymore”

27. “(Y/N), why does your ex have a black eye”

44. “Don't go, stay with me.”

warnings: angsty but a happy ending? Some guy being an asshole

a/n:sorry about the repost!

Sundays where usually spent with you and Sirius cuddled up on the gryffindor couch, sometimes watching James and Remus play wizard chess, or watching peter trying (and failing) to flirt with some 5th years. But today, something had been plaguing your mind. What were you and Sirius? Because you assumed you guys where unofficially official. He never dated anyone else but he had never asked you to be his girlfriend. It had been going on like this for the better part of a year. You'd met in 2nd year and yo instantly became best friends, and since then it just kinda grew. You knew he wasn't one for commitment, given his reputation, but he wasn't like that anymore. He had changed, He had changed for you. But was that enough? It always buried doubt in your head, im not his girlfriend because he doesn't want me enough. Of course that's untrue, but you couldn't help but think. You slowly looked up at him, eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, he smiles.

“what's up love?” He had that cute sleepy voice.

“what are we Sirius?” you questioned, big doe eyes looking up at him.

He didn't really have a response, he had never really thought of it, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Were friends, were this” He gestured to the two of you cuddled up.

Those words lit a fire inside of you, Just friends. Honestly. You abruptly shifted off of him and sat up,

“i cant do THIS anymore Sirius”

“what do you mean doll?” You absolutely hated the fact that he couldn't catch on.

“I cant do this, be us anymore, I need more than this, I need to be yours” He just stared at you, not really having a response,

“would you want us to be us?” You question. He just blanked, he didn't really know what he wanted. That was a lie. He knew he wanted you, wholly and fully to be yours and you to be his but he had to keep you at arms length. You couldn't get hurt because of him, it would destroy him. But his silence was enough for you. You got up and turned to walk, he mumbled a small ‘wait’, his heart speaking before his mind could.

“No, Sirius, come find me once you've decided if im good enough or not” You spat. You sprung out of the common room, past the portrait hole, and began wondering around the halls, it was an hour before curfew so you wouldn't get into that much trouble. Sirius sat staring after you looking dumbfounded.

“Padfoot, mate, what the fuck was that?” James chimed in.

“i have absolutely no idea prongs” He huffed and lay his head against the arm of the chair, what was he gonna do.

It felt a though you where wondering the corridor for hours, but you needed it. Maybe you overreacted on Sirius, Maybe he did want to be with you but he hadn't figured out how to ask. No, if he really wanted to be with you, He would've come looking. You leaned against the wall in some random corridor you'd wandered off to, slowly sliding down it, putting your head in your hands. You heard quite footsteps, quickly approaching. Hoping that on the off chance Sirius had decided to come find you, you lifted your head up. Of course it wasn't him. It was some 6th year ass hat from slytherin. When he noticed you where crying, you expected him to make fun of you, but no, he just sat next to you and asked if you where okay.

“Ive seen better days I suppose” You laughed sadly.

“Well I have something that could cheer you up” He said, a glint of mischief in his eye, oh no this couldn't be good.

“and that is?” You questioned. Then within an instant he had his lips on yours. What the fuck. “woah woah Justin man what are you doing?” You pushed him off you in seconds.

“Well word got round you and Sirius are done, so ya know I figured, why not take a chance with you?” he sneered.

“what? Where did you hear that?” You where so utterly confused it had only been, what? An hour or two since your fight. Word travels fast I suppose.

“Some perky gryffindor chick said she was gonna try it on with im since you guys broke up, so I figured the same” He said cockily.

“You cant exactly break up if your not together” You mumbled.

“So what do you say doll? “You cringed at the nickname, it only felt right when Sirius said it to you. You saddened at the thought.

“ah, I appreciate the offer but no thanks” You chuckled nervously. He came closer and backed you up against the wall.

“Come on baby girl, what are you afraid of?” Ugh he practically made your skin crawl.

“i-i said no” You tried to stand your ground but it wasn't working very well.

“Aww come on” He said making a grab for your ass.

“(Y/N)?” Lily’s voice rang through the empty corridor, you rushed over to her, pushing Justin out of the way,

“Oh thank god lils” You gasped breathlessly.

“You alright? Im just on the way back to the common room from prefect rounds, You wanna walk back with me?” Oh praise the lord for Lily Evans.

“yea, yeah lets go” She mumbled a quick bye to Justin, and the rest of the walk to the common room was an uncomfortable silence.

As you where approaching the portrait hole, she spoke. “So you and Sirius are over then?” God you did not want to talk to this after what just happened, you just wanted a shower and your bed.

“please not today lils” You pleaded.

“Fine, ill leave it.” A silence. “He loves you though, you know? He just has a hard time expressing it”

“i beg to differ sometimes” You two walked through the portrait hole, still a bit shaken up from that ass hole Justin, You sat on the couch.

“You alright? What was that guy doing” And that's all it took, those few simple words and you broke down crying, practically word vomiting everything that had happened in those few minutes. You where so caught up in crying and telling lily you filed to realise Sirius was halfway down the stairs, listening intently, fisted balled up. After you and Lily finished talking, he dashed back up stairs, fists white and face, angry. He was going to get that little shit tomorrow for touching his girl. His girl.

The next morning was a bit of a haze, tears blurred your puffy eyes, from all the crying last, because of that ass hole Justin and your potential breakup with Sirius, maybe he didn't want you after all. But, of course, what you didn't see was, at that very moment, Sirius was walking over to the slytherin dungeons, about to knock the living daylights out of Justin. And trust me e did. He got a little beat up in the process but he was willing to take anything for his girl, even a cruciatus curse.

You and Lily had been sat in the great hall for breakfast for about half an hour, you where mostly just pushing your food around the plate and brooding but still. Lily piped up next to you when she heard the great hall doors open, but you didn't bother.

“(Y/N)” You turned your head to her. “ why does your ex have a black eye?” You gave her a questioning look and turned to look towards the great hall door, There you saw Sirius, eye red and bruised, walking over to the marauders who where a few seats down, giving him sympathetic smiles and smirks.

“I don't know but im about to find out” You got up and walked down to where the marauders were, grabbing Sirius by the back of his leather jacket and dragging him down the hall, hearing a chorus of whistles and ‘go Sirius's. You kept a hold of him all the way to the gryffindor common room.

“Whats with the black eye, did you get in a fight?” You asked, tenderly stroking his cheekbone.

“Its nothing honestly” He whispered. You did not believe him for a second.

“right, well if your not gonna tell me, ill leave” You turned until you heard a small ‘wait’ echoing his words from the previous days. You turned back to him. “i-i punched Justin O'Donnell for what he did to you” You where utterly astounded. You honestly didn't know what to say.

“well, I hope your proud of yourself” Why in the world did you say that. You turned to walk away.

“Dont go, stay with me” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek “im sorry, I forever want to be with you but I didn't know how to ask you” He stared at the ground.

“I think you just did” You smiled. He lifted his head and broke out in a wide grin.

“is that a yes?” His eyes wide and hopeful.

“ of course you idiot” You jumped and hugged him, legs wrapped round his waist. And you kissed. Just like any other day, but this was full of passion and meaning. As you guy2s broke away, you stared into each others eyes.

“fancy a cuddle?” He said with a classic smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“Always” you smiled.

As the remaining marauders (+lily) returned to the common room after the feast, they caught sight of the lovebirds, cuddled up together on the common room couch, led Zeppelin quietly playing in the background.

“Match made in heaven” Remus cited.

“Should we wake them” Lily asked to no one in particular.

James wrapped his arm around her shoulder “Nah, let em’ sleep for today” They all headed up the stairs to retrieve their books for next lesson.

Sirius whispered a quite “Thank you”.

“No problem, mate” James chuckled.

“I love you” He whispered quietly in your ear.

“AWW! Thanks babe!” James shouted.

“Not you” Sirius grumbled, hearing the rest of the marauders laugh before drifting back into peace.

[generouscoffeelove]

THE UNASSEMBLED WORDS

Things not always go your way they never even stay the same but you can make your mind to go with the flow u can make yourself to work within the things but sometimes it's hard to face the reality sometimes you are not ready to accept the situation, we all are never mature enough that we cant cry crying makes your mind healthy but overthinking only leads to depression and stress. People will say whatever will come in their mind but it's not always necessary to carefully listen to their opinions. 

When you are determined to achieve something and deep down you know that the path you chose is right for you then no one can divert our mind from those guts. People will depress you, they will tell you that u r wrong and their opinions are right bcz they can't see a person becoming more successful than they themselves. Nowadays no one is more sincere to you than your parents, not even your relatives.

Sometimes I think about the day when I will achieve my dreams but then what if I have no more plans to move on ? what if i get the person i love but what after that ? as i will be near to it i will forget the hurdles and all the things i lost on the path towards my goal. Man is greedy, his requirements can never be completed bcz he wants more & more. If u want to get to ur dreams u have to listen to yourself only u dont care about the people and even if u hurt them u have no problem but then comes the deceiving part where u think that following your dreams might separate your family from u this fear of losing someone really special in ur life makes ur way turn back. I think it's the law of life u cant live happily if the people around u r sad. A person like me sometimes thinks that leave everything and go get whatever u want but in the end u have to come back. U will never forget where u belong and thats how u feel the existence of love.

 The first love relations with you are of the same blood. But how can u fall for someone so badly ? How can you love someone out there in this world more than those people who raised you ? This love can be of two types. The love relation with Allah and secondly the other with one of his people. How weird it is to think that we pray to get someone else in our lives instead of praying to get Allah’s affection. To be honest, pray for it and you will get the things you love automatically even if you love someone so badly. First put this in your mind that excess of everything is bad. It's only Allah who will give u everything and will never upset u but the people around u can love u the most but can also give u the pain that u cant bear. 

Everything happens for good. Maybe someone in your past who deceived you was there by Allah’s choice to make you strong and to make you prepared that nobody is there with you forever. People will always stay in search to get ur weak points but staying close to Allah will hide all of those mistakes on ur side which u made unexpectedly or even if u knew u should pray to be forgave and he will forgive u try to pray from the core of your heart. Nothing is more peaceful than crying in sujood bcz that is the moment when u feel hopeless and u dont have words to describe the society around u that how u feel. I faced a lot of times when i was compared and i was insulted but all i used to do was to stay silent and secretly in the heart say “ Ya Allah u should answer them”. Sometimes its good to stay quiet bcz the silence makes the people go crazy. The silence is breaked automatically by Allah. He himself shows the people that u were wrong.

 Not always u have to stay silent but when u r being doubted for a wrong reason or the person saying is crossing the limits listen 3 times but the 4th time smack his face. Bcz they deserve it. From my perspective rules should be for everyone, and the strictness u faced should also be embossed on the coming kids. It's not right to scold or insult someone in the middle where everyone is sitting bcz it makes you stressed and this is the fact where suicidal thoughts start to enclave even a young mind. I dont why im even writing this but the point is that i really don't want anyone to interfere in our lives and not even to scold us bcz they dont live with us they don't face the things we are facing right now, they cant live a week with us but after all they are right and they will never like to meet a person with empty pockets. To every individual on this planet earth, money is everything and money can buy happiness even. People will embrace you till the day u have money but the day u fall a little they will not even ask that are u ok or do u need any help. 

Life will change so will the people but the real face of people can only be seen when you stand in a tough time and they turn their backs away from you. We lived a great past life, we went to restaurants, we ate mcdonalds and shopped etc. so what everybody does when they have money. People should really look into themselves and then say a word to other people. At the end i would like to share a small verse with huge meaning from Quran that:

 In surah alam nashra

            “Beshak har mushkil ke baad asani hai”

            “Indeed after every hard time there’s good time”

People will stay with you till you are useful to them. the day u fall in need of help, some will help u only those who were sincere to u maybe it can be those people whom u never even noticed or they were not even in priority but they stand with u, they come into your life as angels. Because you wanted them and they were to be in your life by the grace of Allah. 

As you grow up u learn through experiences u learn to stand after crawling but not at once u fall u cry and then u get up, u stand at ur own. As a kid, u are learning actually u are learning throughout your life; from people and mistakes. U are not living until u fail.

 U learn to live through love and failures. Love is the road which can give u the best memories to laugh and cry on, but the bumps can give u those bruises and wounds which will heal but the pain will last forever. The time is cruel after u lose someone u love, and even more when the loved one becomes part of your routine. U cannot live without food as well as love. It's easy to console the broken person but it's not possible to feel the pain as that person is feeling. During this time the emotions are at level best of depression and stress if u cant be nice to them then better stay away bcz they can even harm themselves.

Love is very important in life. If u love someone but can’t tell bcz of some fear.

The fear can be of being rejected or it can be the matter of pride. The matter of our reputation is very sensitive, especially for a girl. A small mistake can break the entire reputation which was made from long and hard work. But people will only bring up the flaws bcz they need a topic to talk on. More importantly,the thing that matters is peace with the reputation u hold, if u have reputation and money but u still feel alone u are not fine. 

The hardest part in life is to live without the person whom you cry for days and nights but you can't tell bcz u are afraid of losing the reputation u hold. It's not wrong but it's killing u deep inside. U keep smiling but its only breaking you. It's funny cuz u are ruining yourself. Less to be worried bcz u are being destroyed by love. The part that hits hard and it's all about fate. Being compared to a less experienced person is bad bcz u know that the person hasn't faced any of the circumstances as u did.

“A dream is a wish that your heart makes”

For loving someone you don't have to be perfect. U dont have to change yourself bcz u know that person will accept u no matter what. This is the belief that love brings into our soul. Love happens; it never asks you who I should be with. It's the beauty and the magic of eyes which makes u staring. A fact says that if a person misses you they appear in your dream and if you think about someone alot it means that person was thinking about you first. I believe a lot in these facts bcz they happen a lot. The real fun and peace in love is by burning in the fire of awareness. U keep waiting for the other person to make a move but what to do if the other person is waiting for u. 

Okay, I know I'm talking rubbish right now. It's currently 3:14 a.m. and I'm unable to sleep. I'm not in the mood to write in my diary so it's better to keep on writing to keep yourself busy. Life is not in the mood to study all i want to do is to explode up and cry i know why but tears seem to be dried and i no longer have emotions my mind just wants to fall into midnight in a deep conversation with myself or with a trustworthy my heart seems to beat for some reasons that keep giving me the same tensions which i want to remove. It feels like my soul is whirling like a storm. I don't know what to do to scream or to cry or to stay awake or sleep. Sometimes i just want to stay up and think about my future and the choices I'm making but i don't have leisure time. 

Hard times will not stay with you forever but at every point of ur life they will make u realize that don't forget where u belong and what u survived in ur past. U can never forget your past bcz ur weakness makes u strong. It's better not to expect alot from people. They can bring u disappointment only or a bit of what u were expecting. U cant eat when ur hands are tied u have to make a move to eat and feed your hunger nobody else is going to do this for you.

 Be independent. It's an easy sentence with two words to say but it requires all of your life to be courageous enough to face the coming hurdles. U are going to face many challenges .

“if ur life got harder congratulations !! u just leveled up”.

 Smile even if there are 1000 reasons not too but this time during these days it seems to me as if I'm the shining star alone in the sky where clouds are trying to dull my spark but i keep shining the clouds hide me but then i come back. The mechanism of nature also teaches you many lessons of life. If you think deeply, the sun teaches you that after every dusk there is dawn. The sky can't show the glitter of stars without night. The moon tells you it's good to go through phases. The black clouds teach u that when u are loaded after going through many stages its ok to let everything pour out through tears. The average rain can bring happiness to the beings on earth they will feel calm but if it rains more than normal it destroys the belongings of human.Similarly, if we cry normally it freshens our mind but the excess of it leads to depression and damage of internal conditions and peace.

“Excess of everything is bad”

I don't know when girls felt peaceful in their lives, enjoyed and cherished the most beautiful moments of their lives. All the time they have to worry about something even if it's health,dressing,family,friends or some sort of harassment. She cant feel free to live. Talking to a male about life and studies is a crime and is considered something related to flirting and to be feel ashamed on. Something for which the parents can't speak on if they want to. The people thinking in this way for someone's daughter should think that in future they will also have daughters and what if this will happen to them. If today you consider someone else your daughter or sister honestly u have a peaceful and beautiful future.

But if u see girls as some material to be used and thrown u were born to be wrong then even if u say urself muslim or human look at ur habits and inner person it is more worse than animal. You have to change yourself first to change the people around you.

[ladykatibeth]

“Missing”

Fandom: Sander Sides

Rating: Teen for swearing

Summary:The crown prince of the kingdoms goes on a quest to find his brother, meanwhile a famers kid meets up with a friend.

A/N: Will be continued,if you want to feel free to ask questions about the characters! I have my inbox open. Feel free to reblog.

Remus was Missing.

Remus was missing and Roman didn’t know where he was. Remus was missing, and he was gone for good this time, and Roman didn’t know what to do.

Remus was missing--his twin was missing. His twin was missing, Remus was--

Roman should have done something, noticed sooner. Or even noticed at all. Remus had always been loud, obnoxiously loud, Roman had remarked a couple of times. Remus had been a bit quieter than usual, the past week. But Remus had always had his ups and downs, despite what it might have seemed Remus couldn’t keep up his high energy forever. Every once in a while he ended up crashing.

Roman should have known though. Should have picked it out. Should have noticed. But he had been so busy last week. Well, busier than usual. There's always lessons, boring parties where adults talked about stupid things, and other such duties. But that week he had been preparing to do a speech, anxiously prepping and preparing. He had been so stressed, being crown prince was no easy task, honestly sometimes he just wanted to get away.

Maybe that's why Remus left.

Maybe that's why Remus left.

Maybe--

Roman could feel his breath hitch in his throat, his eyes were wet, why was he crying? Why couldn’t he breathe?

Roman felt a hand on his shoulder. He tensed as he suddenly remembered where he was. His hands were gripping the bed. The breath slowly returned to his lungs, maybe he had been cursed. Cursed by some breath stealing fairy. That would actually be a good idea for a story, he’d have to return to that later.

“Roman?” Right. Later. He looked up to see Logan looking down at him with a concerned expression on his face. Roman could almost find it in himself to smile. Logan would know what to do. Logan always knew what to do.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I look like I'm okay?” Roman threw his arms around, nearly hitting Logan, who had started to sit down next to Roman.

Logan frowned. “I don't understand, you and I both know disappearing is not out of the realm of your brother's usual behavior. He runs off somewhere, every third week.” His frown deepened. “You both do, actually, no matter how hard I try to stop you.”

Logan had become Roman and Remus’s court companion, by nature of being literally the only other child that lived in the castle. The title wasn't exactly official, but that's what everyone had taken to calling him, almost affectionately. And Logan did the job as best as he could. Making sure neither one of them got themselves killed.

Logan also happened to be the son of Roman and Remus’s tutor. He excelled in almost everything, math, science, geography even English, though he struggled with the metaphors. Out of the three of them, Logan had always gotten the best scores. Roman might have called it favoritism if he didn’t know Logan so well.

Roman passed Logan the note he held crumpled up in his hand. In his despair he had almost forgotten it had been there. Logan carefully read over the material, his face changing only slightly, so slightly Roman wouldn't have caught it if he hadn't known what to look for. He squinted adjusting his glasses.

Of course, knowing what was in the letter himself helped. Roman had reread it over and over again, after finding it on his nightstand that morning.

Ro,

I'm leaving. For good this time. Don’t blame yourself, don't try to come after me, because I don’t want to come back. I don't know what I'll do next, maybe become a pirate? Or live in the woods in a cave,like a bear, and run around naked and eat wild plants! Who knows. I’ll decide later. Anyway, I’ll write to you if I find a way to from wherever I’m going. Say goodbye to Lo for me.

Ps. Don't show this to Mom.You know she’ll come after me.

Pps. If you show this to Mom I'll come back to the castle and bludgeon you. I am not above fratricide.

Roman had quickly hid that note under his pillow. And then he pulled it out to read it again, before sticking it back. He had been doing that all morning. He had at first felt angry, how dare he leave him to do this by himself, that hadn’t been the plan! That's what twins were for! So you didn't have to do things like stealing cookies from cooks, or running kingdoms, alone!

So that was that then. His brother was gone, he left, purposefully disappeared. Roman was going to tackle him if he found him. When he found him. Determination flooded into him.

Logan looked up at him. Probably seeing something in his eyes, he said “You’re going to go try to find him.” He looked at him disapprovingly.

Shit.

“I have to--!” Roman said. Roman drew short, and quickly looked around. He lowered his voice, “I'm going, and you can’t stop me!” Logan glared at him.

Roman glared back, harder. Logan maintained his gaze for a second then looked away, sighing. “Fine, then, I will accompany you.”

“You don't have to-” Roman said. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I know I don't have to.” He walked over to Roman’s closet and grabbed a bag. “Pack some clothes, I’ll make a list of things we need, and draft a plan.” He placed the bag down next to Roman.

For the first time today Roman smiled. He could almost taste the adventure coming up on the horizon.

-----

Patton couldn’t wait to see his friend! He had said they could meet up today. Patton was so excited he sped through his chores. And boy, there were a lot!

Not that Patton ever really minded that much. He loved the animals on the farm. And he liked getting up early, and getting to watch the sun rise. The only problem was that he had finished too early. By the time he had gotten back it was already twelve O’clock and he still had two more hours to wait.

It was currently 1:30. He still had thirty minutes to wait, but his friend was rarely on time. Sometimes he came early, but mostly he came “fashionably” late as he had called it once. Patton had laughed.

Patton was sitting by the edge of the forest, near his house. The grass underneath Patton's hands was soft, and the sun shone brightly through the trees. The wind felt breezy, tousling through his hair. Patton giggled.

Patton's thoughts wandered to when he met his friend. It was almost a year ago, Patton had been playing around near the woods. His mama had told him to never to go in them. So Patton stayed around them, sure to never get too close to the trees. But Patton had thought he heard crying.

At first he was able to convince himself it was nothing, just the wind rustling through the trees, but the sound grew louder until it could not be classified as anything but sobbing. All thoughts of getting in trouble fled him. Someone was hurting, he needed to help them.

He had wandered slowly into the woods, holding his breath. Barely making a sound. He walked on the path, trying to listen from where he thought he had heard the sound. If somebody was hurt he had to help. Nevermind the fear slowly creeping up his spine.

As he journeyed farther and farther into the woods, the volume of the crying would cycle. Just as he thought he was about to reach the person, it would decrease again. Patton was just starting to think that he’d been tricked when he heard movement in the trees.

He turned around.

Nobody was there.

He slowly turned forward.

A snake was hanging down from the tree, right by him. Patton screamed. He fell backwards and froze. The black and yellow snake drew up close to him. So close he could see the wrinkly outline of its scales. Its eyes were cat-like. The snake's head nodded to the side, an expression that, on a human, would certainly be read as amused curiosity.

Patton got up and ran.

He could feel air rushing past him. He was running on autopilot, passing through trees and ducking under vines. Low hanging branches and thorny bushes nicked at his skin. He nearly avoided tripping over a couple of twigs and branches. He slowed down to a light jog, before stopping and sitting on a log to catch his breath. Patton looked around.

Nothing looked familiar. Patton thought he had come out from his left side. He walked back that way. Trying to go the way he remembered coming from, turning left and right. Just as he thought he would never make it out of these woods, he saw light. Light! Patton ran toward it.

Only to find himself back in the same place he started.

He tried again, and again, changing directions, taking lefts where last time he took rights. But every time he found himself in the same place. It didn't help that the tree markers seemed to flip and change randomly. And Patton couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. “Why cant you just leaf me alone?” He tried to joke, but his punning fell flat.

He sat back down on his log, and started to cry.

He heard something move in the trees. His breath hitched, and he looked up. A boy about his age was sitting on a branch and looking down at him, lazily dangling a leg off the side of the tree.

His clothes were dark. Pretty fancy for the woods, Patton thought. The boy had a button down shirt, and a cloak wrapped around him. He had yellow gloves, and a hat Patton had never seen before. Patton thought he looked like a storybook villain.

“Crying is, absolutely, one of the best, most productive, responses one could have to getting lost in the woods.” Patton whipped his face with his sleeve. That was kind of a mean thing for him to say.

“Hello!” Patton said, trying to make himself seem happier than he felt. “My name is Patton!”

The boy looked sharply down at him and hissed a half-whisper, “Could you be any louder? I’d love for you to make it known to the whole world that I’m up here!”

Patton frowned. This convo wasn’t going well at all. He pushed forward, and half-whispered “Sorry, it's nice to meet you, what's your name?”

The boy tipped his hat. “You can call me Deceit.” They sat in silence for a minute.

“Well…” Patton began.

“Well?” Deceit said.

“Well, It's just, I'm kinda lost….”Patton trailed off.

“Clearly.”

“And you seem to know these woods a bit…..” Deceit’s expression didn’t change.

“So maybe,” Patton paused, “Maybe you could help me out?” The end of his statement went high.

Deceit must have seen the desperation on his face. Because he said, “Look, I'm not in the habit of doing favors for people, but I am willing to make an exchange.”

Patton gasped. A snake had appeared where Deceit once was. It slithered up the branch and down the tree. As soon as the snake hit the ground, Deceit reappeared.

So he was the one that scared him earlier!

“Here's the deal, I will help you home, if you agree to do me a favor.” Deceit held out his hand to shake it. Patton reached for it, automatically. Stopping just short of shaking it.

“Wait.” Patton had said tilting his head curiously “What favor?”

“You’ll know it when the time comes.” Patton hesitated for a moment, and then stood up and shook Deceits hand.

And in the end that had turned out to be a great decision! Patton had gotten a new friend! A friend that was running towards him right now. Now that’s a bit weird. Deceit doesn't runs, he just slithers all over the place. Patton giggled a bit at the joke.

His smile became tented with concern when he noticed Deceit had a look of panic on his face. Patton grabbed him by the arms. “Hey, hey, what's the matter, kiddo?”

“Patton, you have to hide me!” Deceit said.

[galaxysgal]

Something Witchy This Way Comes Chapter 3: Fill My Heart With Song

Warnings: Swearing, I think?

Wordcount: 1,224

A/N: I love this chapter. So much. It’s literally so fluffy y’all are gonna lose your shit. And again, huge thanks to my beta @honeykiwis :))) Dedicated to @poesflygirl who was with me the whole time i was writing this chapter, ily sis and i hope you like the final product. Posting early because I cant wait any longer!!

Read Here on my Ao3

xxx xxx xxx xxx

“You can’t be serious, you’ve never danced before?”

Finn shook his head for the millionth time. “Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’ and tilting his head up towards Poe. The sun had gone down long ago, the two now snuggled in soft firelight and the glow of the TV, content in being together. They were lounging on the couch watching the Harry Potter marathon on SyFy, Finn still recovering from his vision the previous day. Poe’s feet are propped up on a footstool while Finn leaned back on his chest, BB-8 sleeping in his lap. On screen Harry and Hermione were dancing to some song about trains, Finn had always thought it was cute, and so he had said something about it. This, of course, had led Poe to ask Finn about his dancing preferences and from there the truth came out. Finn had never danced before.

The orange glow of the fireplace cast dancing shadows across Poe’s features as he looked down at Finn, puzzlement in his eyes. Finn grinned in disbelief, chuckling a little. “What!? So what if I’ve never danced before? It’s not like I’ve been in all these relationships before like you have, I didn’t even have a date to my senior prom!”

“So you’re telling me no one in your entire school took a shot at this wonderful piece of ass right here,” he says, reaching down to grab Finn’s butt. “No one claimed this cute little tush? No one?”

Finn grinned at his boyfriend’s antics, wiggling around and waking BB-8 by accident. “No one,” he told him.

“No one,” Poe repeated, like Finn had just told him some unbelievable thing, like he said that Gwendolyn Gegonia wasn’t the founder of Gegonia Institute, or sage wasn’t useful in cleansing.

“Nope!” It was kinda cute, the way Poe lifted his eyebrows and his eyes went all wide, so Finn didn’t really mind the questions. It was lighthearted and fun.

“Not a single one of those crazy teenage girls with their chunky highlights?”

Finn laughed loudly at that one, startling Coraline who was lounging across the room on the cat tower. “Not a single one of them. I ended up going with Rey-”

“Aha!” Poe exclaimed, “so you did go to prom,” he said, as if that was supposed to make everything click in the puzzle of questions he was asking.

“And?”

“And you didn’t dance?”

“No, of course I danced-”

“Exactly! See I knew it couldn’t be true.” Poe smiled triumphantly, and Finn shook his head some more.

“No, you see, I’ve done like, this-” he did a horrendous rendition of the electric slide from his spot on the couch, “and this-” he did a half hearted cabbage patch-

“You did the cabbage patch?” Poe wheezed, “baby thats so- oh god-”

“Shut up! And I know this, and this-” he moved his arms in the steps of the macarena, then did a little approximation of the wobble, “and this thing-” he ended with the Cupid Shuffle. “Quit laughing!” Poe was dying with laughter, infectious and bubbly, and Finn found himself laughing too despite his words.

Poe grabbed the remote, muting the TV and pulling Finn off the couch. “That’s it, you’re getting dancing lessons. Right. Now.”

Finn ducked his head shyly, “I’m not much of a dance- woah!”

Poe grabbed him by the hips and pulled him close. “Nonsense! It’s like that guy from Ratatouille said, ‘anyone can dance!’”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘anyone can cook.’”

Poe shushed him, taking his hands and humming what sounded like salsa music. “Just follow my lead, I’ve got you. Right leg first.” He squeezed Finn’s hands, giving him a soft smile. He tapped the tempo onto Finn’s palm. “Alright, and back and shift and front and shift and-”

Finn and his two left feet went the wrong way, bumping right into Poe and nearly knocking him over. “Sorry!” he reached out to grab Poe before he could fall, pulling him back up. He felt heat blooming on his cheeks, “Poe I’m not-”

“No no sweetheart, I started too hard, that’s on me,” he locked eyes with Finn, telling him there was no need to apologize. “Let’s try something a little easier, yeah?”

“You sure?” Finn felt a little uneasy, afraid to mess up again.

“Of course.” Poe kissed him sweetly, his lips quelling Finn’s fears.

Poe wiggled his fingers at a record player in the corner and it crackled to life, rich smooth sound pouring from the bell and greeting Finn’s ears like a warm embrace. He recognized the song, Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra. Poe grinned like an idiot, taking Finn’s hands once again.

“Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars,” he sang softly, stepping side to side in time with the music. “Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.”

Finn was smiling now, soft and gentle as Poe led him across the floor. They twirled and rocked in time with the beat, in time with each other. When Poe looked at him with those soft brown eyes, Finn began to think that maybe dancing wasn’t so bad after all.

“In other words, hold my hand. In other words, baby kiss me,” Poe grinned goofily, angling for a kiss, and of course Finn gave it to him. “Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.”

Finn lifted his arm, twirling Poe around a couple of times. His smile was brighter than Finn had ever seen, it warmed his heart and sent butterflies into his stomach. It was like every moment with Poe was his first, nervous and excited and filled to the brim with anticipation.

“In other words, please be true,” Poe pulled him close, rocking them side to side, “in other words, I love you.” His stubble scratched at Finn’s skin as he kissed him repeatedly.

The music grew louder through the instrumental break and Finn found himself letting go, throwing his head back with carefree laughter. Everything was just so… warm. So perfectly comfortable and safe, here in their living room in the low light. Poe was serenading him, his voice like honey, guiding him across the floor as they danced.  It was easy, and before Finn knew it the song was over.

Poe pulled him impossibly closer, bringing his lips in close enough to brush Finn’s ear. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here now,” he murmured as the next song began.

Finn felt his heart swell as he buried his face in Poe’s shoulder. He inhaled the scent of cinnamon, clove, and spiced cider. A mix that was so overwhelmingly Poe that Finn thought he might combust. “Me too,” he whispered, clinging to Poe with everything he had.

The music surrounded them, lulling them into a loving silence in which they just swayed and held each other, happy to finally be together.

Never thought that you would be, standing here so close to me, there’s so much I feel that I should say, but words can wait until another day

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long long time, Haven’t felt like this my dear since can’t remember when, it’s been a long, long time…

End.

Taglist: @tinyphantomsalad @imasunflower00 @shibasus @stormpilotsrus @kitmarloweki @wheeliebinbyers @xwings-can-fly @waywaychuck

[19mrs-barnes17]

Skies Are Gray

Summary: “Hi! So, I always see these fics around about a bubbly reader and is pure and sweet and I love it!!!! Its fun to read that stuff but I always feel like I cant connect. Can I request Bucky x reader who has been through serious shit that had taken away the pure and happy shine in her eye. Maybe something where she had made a mistake and kept it a secret for so long it started to eat at her? Angst to fluffI'm not sure. All I know is that I love your writing and knew you could portray this perfectly”                -Anonymous

Part: 1/1 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: angst, implied smut, (I think that’s it...)

Word count: 1,221

A/N: Wow, okay... So this was such a sweet request and I absolutely loved writing it. I hope you like it! (Ps. tissues might be handy...)

~

Life used to be lighter, with a bit more hopefulness and joy but that was before you were slammed with reality. Not everything went the way you wanted it too and sometimes that was learned the hard way, and it was never a pretty lesson. Some things are out of your control and eventually you’d have to accept that but today you just couldn’t muster the strength. Today you just wanted to get through the motions and move on from the dark nipping at your heels. So you trained, you ran miles and punched the hell out of a punching bag, you sparred with Natasha and you picked up Archery with Clint. It was clear to all you needed a distraction day, things had been weighing far more heavily on you since your last mission. 

No one here had seen you prior to your personality shift, they had always known you to be sort of distant and reserved. It was why they had immediately wanted you and Bucky to meet, they thought the two of you would bring out the best in one another. And it worked. But not completely, a total change would require internal work that you simply were not ready for. That was a task for a later date. 

Bucky had been your solace in the past few years, your only source of clarity in moments of haziness. He had already helped in making you smile more and feel lighter than you usually do but even he couldn’t rid you of the guilt that clung to you. You had never told him the truth about what you were like before becoming an agent, before joining the avengers. It was a veil of shame you wore around constantly that no one ever noticed, only known to yourself.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy there wild woman.” Bucky gripped the violently swinging bag and did his best to steady it before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you away. “Something’s up with you.”

When you opened your mouth to protest he held up a hand, a gentle smile on his lips as he gazed softly into your eyes. Those steel blue eyes made you feel less troubled, almost like you were home and safe from whatever ails you. You could almost get lost in them.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I get it, we’ve all got things in our past we’d much rather forget. But I want you to know that I am here for you, always. If you ever need to talk or if you just want to be held, I will forever have my door open to you. All you have to do is ask.” Tears slid down your cheeks and you feverishly wiped them away in embarrassment, he always seemed to say something that triggered an emotion in you. “Hey, it’s okay. Let them fall, you don’t have to hide from me.”

He held onto your shaking body as you let all the stress and pain flush out, a sort of catharsis occurring within you. A part of you felt like you had to tell him now before you lost your nerve, and so you did. You started speaking and you couldn’t stop, it all just poured from your lips like you’d drunk truth serum. Everything was laid before him, the loss of your deepest love, the offer of revenge, your criminal record, all of it. At this point your eyes were glued to the wall, sitting on the bench in silence as you gave him time to absorb all you had revealed. It was a lot to put on someone in one moment, perhaps too much.

“I’m sorry, that was a lot. Too much for one conversation.” Your head hung low with your eyes squeezed shut, it was terrifying to you that you had just told him the truth that had taken you 13 months of required therapy to admit in a mere conversation. Your grip on the bench became deathly tight, a fluttering anxiety in your chest. His arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer snapped you from your panic, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“It’s okay.” That was all he said for several minutes and those words alone made your heart feel lighter, your hands holding onto his forearm that rested over your chest. “I still love you, your past doesn’t change that. Your past is exactly that, the past. You’ve gone through so much and come out a better person. You did that. I’m no stranger to regretting mistakes and blaming yourself for the trauma. But, maybe that’s something we can both work on. Together.”

“I’d like that.” You rest your forehead against his and close your eyes, deep breaths in and out as you revel in the comfort of his touch. “What would I do without you?”

“Listen to sad music while beating the life out of inanimate objects and eating your feelings.” You quirked a brow, a quiet laugh slipping past your defenses. “You’d be just fine, but life would be so much less fun.”

“Oh you have no idea.” You kissed his lips gently, turning to hold him against you with your hands flat on his back. The taste of his lips and the feel of his skin were addicting, so much so that you lost track of time, at some point traveling to his room and melding into one. 

James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t your savior, he didn’t rescue you from anything and he didn’t magically solve your problems with his existence. He did something much better and far more realistic, he helped inspire you to save yourself. Supporting your decisions and not coddling you like a child or a wounded animal, he treated you like a person. You felt safe, not because he could protect you but, because he would just let you be. He never asked any change of you, never once telling you to get a hold of yourself and get your life together. No, Bucky knew better than that and he knew how hard it was to be kind to yourself. 

James Buchanan Barnes was no knight in shining armor, he was no crutch, and he was certainly not a caped crusader saving a damsel in distress. He was your confidant and your closest companion. He was the person you could turn to with no judgement, always all ears. He was your partner and equal, he was for you what you were for him. He was the love of your life and you never needed to look elsewhere. He wasn’t your world but the sharer of your heart, just as you shared his. 

As you looked into his eyes you knew that you had the strength for what lay ahead, because you had him to cheer you on when you fell to the ground. You had him to ensure you never gave up on yourself. While you could very well do this on your own, it was nice to have someone believe in you with their whole heart. Somehow it made it just a bit easier to find belief in yourself.

One day you would be able to say you were okay again and he would be right at your side, finding the strength to say it too.

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @cantnkrusshedevil

[jensenackle]

so, falling in love? the greatest thing in the world. makes u feel invencible like you could swallow the entire world raw and nobody could stop you. You'd like to think you could go on and on forever talking about love but its been so long you dont even remember anymore

getting your heart broken? well that is something. at first you feel like its the end of the world. And you know what? it kinda is. not in the "im going to die because of this" way, but instead, its like you wake up from the haze and reality hits you in the chest so damn hard it takes your breath away. it is raw and the most painful thing in the world, to think the person you trusted and loved more than anyone just betrayed your trust and stabbed you in the back. its not that they're unfaithful the thing that hurts, not entirely, but rather that they knew it would hurt you, and they did it all the same. and then lied about it. And you know damn well that once you start telling lies you can never stop and now you're like a snowball tumbling down getting bigger as the moments pass by, but its all gonna come crashing down inevitably. its losing the trust you had put in that person and now you cant even believe your etes because nothing seems true anymore. Is the sky really blue? The grass green? Or am i just blind to the truth?

trying to work things out means forgiveness and apologies and forgetting and getting over. it truly means turning the page around, period. there's no other way, you can't bend this to work like you'd like. Because that's when things get ugly. And i mean really fucking ugly and you feel like you've lost yourself because suddenly you're acting like you've never have before, like you said you never would. And its new and terrifying and so bad and ugly you're scared you're stepping into the darkest version of you and you don't even recognize yourself.

you start asking yourself questions, like what have they done to me? but also what have i allowed people to turn me into? and also why? Mostly why. And you can't wrap your head around this, because life was like a bliss and you felt divine but now you feel like someone's attached an anchor to your ankle and thrown you to the deepest ocean and youre sinking and drowning and struggling, and you know life changes fast but why did it have to change to this? did i really deserve it?

but you didn't deserve it. The betrayal and feeling like dying and the depression and that one time when you first stepped outside your house in the aftermath, after weeks of being in bed and not sleeping at all barely eating and crying yourself to sleep, and you couldn't keep the tears from falling or the sobs from coming out your mouth because you were overwhelmed. You didnt deserve it, and you werent responsable for that either. None of it was your fault, and maybe the guilt of "what if i had done anything different?" will leave your body someday.

But it was them. They're the ones that screwed you over and then claimed to love you. You can understand now, though, that they're humans because we all are and we all make mistakes. But you can't forgive, him treating you like a fool and lying and going behind your back. You've never forgotten nor forgiven. And you had to get back at him didn't you? Had to have your revenge.

But he didn't deserve it either and that eats you up but you wont do anything about it because its not your place to do so. Because you'll try to justify yourself but you were in the wrong. Tried to convince yourself you were over and done, could fall in love again, and he wasnt a rebound. Nope, not all. He was the real thing. But you know now you were lying to yourself back then. He was convenient. And willing. And you kinda liked but you know he liked you a lot so you took advantage. I know its no fair putting it in those words, its not like you were conscious about what you were doing, so far down in denial, but its what you did anyway and now you have to own up to it. Now youve hurt a lot of people and yourself too, some didnt deserve it and some did, just because you tried to cover up your feelings. How did that work out for you, baby girl?

Getting back with an ex is a big no-no, you've learnt your lesson or you're starting to, trying to, wanting to. Because the shit thats in the past should fucking stay in the past. Its there for a reason anyway, digging it up will amount to nothing eventually. And im talking about feelings and emotions and situations and friendships and lovers. The whole deal. Whats dead should say well, dead. It died right? And trying to bring it back to life will make it morph into something new. But if youre lucky, like really fucking lucky, the new thing will be good and bright and beautiful. But if youre like me? Luck has never been on our side. And now the zombie will try to please you and you'll try to please him too until you find yourself reaching for the shotgun and pointing it right to them while they're coming for you.

Because the new is gonna be so exciting at first, like you've been missing out on life all the time you've been away from them like you finally can breath. But then the spell is over and reality hits you and guess what? It's ugly, obviously. It always was but you just didnt wanna see it but now the curtain is up and the blindfold is gone and you have to go and confront yourself and tell yourself the truth.

It'll be ages till you listen though. Denial, again. I kinda feel like that's become our thing. And nasty little habit, that is. And even when you finally start to listen, you will withdraw again. Reach out for the cover again. Because the truth is ugly and painful and you dont want that. You dont want to believe your fairytale love doesnt get happy ending, probably never will. And it will come crashing down and burning, like it has in the past, like you've so desperately tried to avoid. No one wants to face that

But life is what it is whether you like it or not and avoiding the inevitable will only make things harder and thats right - uglier. But maybe if you could hold on into that last bright thing... maybe you could fix it all. But you know you can't.

Too much shit has happened now. You've got baggage now. Not that you didn't have it before from your insecurities and years of teenage depression but it wasnt like this. Never like this. Back then you didn't like your self but you trusted your convictions and rules and now that you've done all the shit you said you wouldn't, who are you now? What do you believe in anymore? Do you believe in anything? Now you second guess.

You would have jumped had he asked. Would have done anything for him, and it sounds pretty but it isn't and you've lost yourself so damn deep you're never finding that again so it would be better to rebuild from scratch, right? But now you're longing and nostalgic for who you were, and what it was and how you felt. Like walking on clouds.

But then it hits you and you feel like you can't even breath: you don't feel like that anymore. And even if you want to turn your head away from this you can't. And now you have to do something. You owe it to yourself, after all. Can't waste more of her heart and time.

And it's a slow path. Bunch of rocks in the way. It's hard to walk and you keep turning back but keep walking forward because it's the only thing to do, even if you want to go back, and you want, but you cant. Hoping that you wont. Even if it hurts. For you.

And here we are at the end of things. The end of the world. The world you built for yourself and him that no longer will be and everything will die with it, the inside jokes and knowing each other and the old memories and the new memories and everything in between. Breaking up, if it was true love, will feel like dying because parts of you will (the ones you were with him and the ones he takes with you) and will feel like the world is shattering around you because it is.

Falling out of love? Not as fun as falling in. But you learn more. Lose a lot more than just people, but you lose perspective on the beauty of life and of love. Especially love. You become bitter and cynical. You desperately want to view life bright again because now it feels as if someone dimmed the lights. And at the same time you want to embrace the new thoughts. Arent sure which one is the bad and which the good, or if there is a good or bad at all, and now you're confused and conflicted.

It takes time. I'm still trying to figure out.