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Today: I finished a book, studied danish, watched several episodes from a tv show, tumbled down tumblr (and other social media), got my period, looked for a job, had a phonecall with a family I’m friends with, did the laundry, cleaned my place, took the trash out, went grocery shopping, and listened to music.

I kept thinking about her the whole day, while feeling sad and lost.

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I wonder if I will ever be good enough. Even infatuation for someone like you seems so hopeless and wrong; I could never compare to the one you had before. You don’t seem to be interested anyway…

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11 (tag me please)

…in joy.

Loki usually adored being with Anthony in the workshop. He adored watching Anthony in his element, chattering to his bots as he moulded soulless metal into the most wonderful of creations. He adored spending time together, engaging in conversations of equal wit as they worked.

No one could keep up with Loki like Anthony could– and Loki was rather sure that in reverse, the truth was just the same.

But most of all—

He adored spending time with Anthony because he had fallen in love with him, and the workshop was the best place to be close to him and yet still be able to hide his ever growing affection. Loki could brush their hands together while they worked, he could lean against Anthony’s shoulder, he could imagine that those bright smiles were just for him, and him alone.

It was almost perfect.

Anthony’s smiles truly were a sight to see. Because, while Anthony was working, his lips would often tug down into a concentrated frown– until he solved a difficult problem, found a mind-aching solution. Then his expression would break into a grin as bright as the sun, and he would turn to Loki to share in his celebration—

But, it was not always that way.

Still, Loki couldn’t help his fond expression as he watched the way that Anthony’s brow creased in frustration, his lips tightening as he encountered one of those rare problems that he found difficult to solve.

And Loki, of course, was never one to let such an opportunity pass him by.

Leaning a little closer, he discovered the source of Anthony’s frustration easily. He needed to attach two pieces of wire together, but they were both infinitesimally small– even with the magnifier Anthony was using. They needed to be twisted in place, but every time Anthony went to move the one, the other would shift away.

Loki gently touched a hand to Anthony’s arm, so that he would not startle him– then he slid his touch down, over Anthony’s wrists before pressing the tips of his fingers to the back of Anthony’s hand.

Anthony’s movements stilled for a moment, and Loki felt his own breath catch—

Then he pushed a soft amount of seiðr through Anthony’s hand and toward one of the wires, making sure that it would hold still.

A couple of seconds passed, measured only in the length of Loki’s heartbeat.


Anthony seemed to pull from his trance, and then he skilfully wrapped one wire around the other. The moment it was done, the machine Anthony had been building whirred to life—

And Anthony let out a whoop, his joyous grin brimming with the full force of his victory as he turned to Loki and—

Loki gasped as Anthony’s lips pressed against his, a firm, chaste kiss that set his nerves aflame, his skin afire, his body to near combustion. Anthony had never kissed him before, and Loki felt himself this close to a moan as he lifted one hand with the intention of pulling Anthony closer—

But then Anthony was pulling away with a wet, smacking sound, his grin still firmly in place as he buzzed with excitement, turning his gaze back to the project and chattering at JARVIS in a delighted, enthusiastic tirade.

And Loki just– stared, his breath feeling sharp like a thousand shards of broken glass were clawing up his throat.

He couldn’t believe his own foolishness.

He couldn’t believe that, even if only for a moment, he’d actually allowed himself to believe that Anthony—

“You all right, Lokes?” Anthony asked suddenly– and as Loki forced his focus to return, he saw Anthony staring at him in concern.

Loki swallowed down his pain, and smiled. “Of course,” he answered. “I’m fine.”

Anthony flashed another grin—

And then he was turning back to his project once more, entirely oblivious to the way that Loki’s heart had started to crack.

Send me a number, and I’ll write a kiss.

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by ameliabedelias  (61k, complete, 2/2, M)

tags: childhood friends // college/university au // slow burn // pining // the holy motherload of pining // been in love with someone your whole damn life pining // emotional hurt/comfort // coming of age // coming out // angst with a happy ending 


When Jeongguk is six, he meets Kim Namjoon. When Jeongguk is nineteen, he meets Kim Namjoon. Again.


Or, Jeongguk has known Namjoon his whole life.


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It’s Killing Me -

The party was roaring with life, artificial colored light strobing the ceiling, bodies pressed together, the bass of the music pulsing through the house. Jaskier smiled as Priscilla led the way to the alcohol. Tonight was a night of fun, Priscilla demandes, Jaskier being in his head about ‘that guy from Folk Lore’ was driving her up the wall.

Jaskier smiled and allowed himself to dragged through the house, he wondered idly how a noise complaint hadn’t been filed yet.

‘Here, you need to get out there and mingle. Pining isn’t a good look on you Jaskier.’ Priscilla yelled over the music as she handed him a red cup. How comedic he thought to himself. Why wouldn’t he pine? Geralt was a sight to be seen. Jaskier was the only person he would work with in assignments and they constantly texted. Let a man live.

Suddenly people started filling up the kitchen, looking for booze and snacks. Priscilla smiled at him before disappearing.

Well, that’s great.

Jaskier sipped from his cup as he walked back into the main room. People dancing in the dimmed and cramped room. The heat was intense, the smell of lust nearly overwhelming, yet inviting. Gulping down the rancid liquid, Jaskier made his way to the far corner of the room, opposite the ‘DJ’, who in reality was just Jason from music theory.

“Coming out of my cage

And I’ve been doing just fine

Gotta gotta be down

Because I want it all”

Jaskier smiled, of course Mr. Brightside would be played. A few people began jumping in time to the beat, chanting out the lyrics. Jaskier laughed as he join them.

“It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss”

He looked up, smiling, and saw Geralt, from Folk Lore. He looked like he belonged, a rare sentiment considering he normally looked out of place anywhere. Long white hair, dazzling amber eyes, and teeth so sharp they looked like wolf teeth. Geralt, not that much taller than Jaskier looked huge surrounded by girls who were nearly a foot shorter than him.

“Now I’m falling asleep

And she’s calling a cab

While he’s having a smoke

And she’s taking a drag”

Suddenly he was approached by a girl. Jet black hair and an outfit that would put a dominatrix to shame. She radiated power and had the confidence of a panther about to strike a gazelle.

Yennefer, he knew her walk anywhere. A truly terrifying sight, and yet she was cozying up in the corner with Geralt. Jaskier felt himself being pushed, everyone around him oblivious to his inner thoughts. He looked away as he walked back into the kitchen, grabbing another cup of whatever liquid he could find. He downed it before shaking his head. You’re being ridiculous, he murmured to himself. Not audible over the sound of the music.

“Now they’re going to bed

And my stomach is sick

And it’s all in my head

But she’s touching his chest now

He takes off her dress now

Let me go”

How ironic, the song demonstrating his fear. What if they are shagging. Geralt would-

“Hey, what are you doing in here? Let’s go dance!” Priscilla interrupted his thoughts, before he could explain and deny her request, he was being pulled back onto the dance floor.

“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me

And taking control”

Jaskier decided to sneak a glance, surely she was gone by now. Instead his heart dropped.

“Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies

Choking on your alibis”

Yennefer was perched on Geralt lap, talking into his ear as the messed with his hair. He smirked before turning to face her. Jaskier stopped breathing as Geralt kissed her.

“But it’s just the price I pay

Destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes

‘Cause I’m Mr. Brightside”

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t focus. His ears were ringing as he tore away, running to the nearest bathroom he could find.

“I’m coming out of my cage

And I’ve been doing just fine

Gotta gotta be down

Because I want it all”

He fumbled with door knobs, each one being locked. He stumbled upstairs, avoiding the couples snogging. Finding a vacant room, he quickly slammed the door shut and locked it. Sitting against the cold tile floor.

“It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss”

His head was spinning. He thought he had a chance, you don’t stay up and text someone until 3am without being into them. So why?

“Now I’m falling asleep

And she’s calling a cab

While he’s having a smoke

And she’s taking a drag”

Why did Geralt allow him to sit there? Allow him to braid his hair, weave flowers into them? Allow him to call at 3am for a ride home when he was wasted? To be the only one who could make him whole heartedly laugh?

“Now they’re going to bed

And my stomach is sick

And it’s all in my head”

Stop. Stop, stop, stop. Breathe. Focus. Five things you can see. Jaskier looked up, peering into the darkness, searching for something to ground himself.

“But she’s touching his chest now

He takes off her dress now”

Suddenly the room began to cave in, breathing rapidly, Jaskier ran to the window, prying it open he gulped in the fresh air.

“Let me go”

Hoisting himself out the window, he sat on the ledge. The cool autumn air causing him to shiver. Despite the gooseflesh, he was sweating like he’d ran a marathon.

“‘Cause I just can’t look, it’s killing me

And taking control

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies”

He doesn’t know how long he’d been out there, but suddenly his phone was vibrating.

Priscilla, he hoped, probably just looking for him. He didn’t bother check the caller ID, expecting her sweet voice.


“Choking on your alibi”

“Jaskier? I thought I saw you at this party I’m at.. Jaskier?”

He couldn’t move. As he opened his mouth to respond, he noticed movement below. Geralt came strolling out of the house. Covering one ear with his hand before he reached the edge of the yard.

“Hey, you there?” His voice laced with concern, made Jaskier wince.

It was fake.

The concern.

The smiles.

The hugs.

The laughs.

It had to have been.

It had to be pity.

“But it’s just the price I pay

Destiny is calling me”

He scowled as he hanged up. Shoving the phone in his pocket. Watching Geralts look of confusion. Saw him typing, feeling the dull vibration along his thigh.

“Geralt? Come back inside.”

“Open up my eager eyes”

Jaskier sniffled as he chuckled. Of course, Yennefer had her claws in him. Why would he spare a glance. Call back. Check up on him.

Silent tears streaming as Geralt followed her inside.

“'Cause I’m Mr. Brightside”

- You know those videos where it’s like “song but you’re in a bathroom at a party” yea well, I found a Mr. Brightside one and it inspired this fic. Hope you like it! :)

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Donghyuck would know. Every now and then, he catches himself wondering; what does Mark Lee smell like? How are his eyes from up close, his skin under his bedroom’s broken lamp light? How would Mark Lee look on his messy sheets, trying to make his old Playstation work? How would Mark Lee look - if he were just one of the boys?

or: His neighbor, Mark Lee, has a thing for staying in his windowsill watching the sun. Donghyuck has a thing for him.

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He remembers the feeling when he released his first song on SoundCloud. The exhilaration of his thoughts being out in the open, the nervousness of his roommate finding out the song was Mark’s, and the even bigger dread of him finding out the lo-fi track about a secret love was about him.

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and sometimes, when life is a little too hard

and the world a little too mean, I’ll close my eyes

and imagine a life I’d like to live with you someday

and how I’d take you hand and hold you tight

and we’d run away to a sleepy little town where no one knows our names

and we’ll have a cottage with crawling green ivy across worn stone brick

and an iron wrought gate and a red mailbox with our initials painted on it

and wide windows to let in lots of fresh air and sunlight

and a cobblestone pathway leading to a little yellow door

and you’d keep a garden in the front full of herbs and wild flowers

and I’d bake rosemary bread and homemade raspberry jam

and the kitchen would have a window overlooking the garden

and there would be a bird feeder hanging up so our cats could watch the birds

and we’d have two cats, who’d sleep curled up at our feet

and beg for food at 5 am, and we’d play Rock Paper Scissors over who had to get up

and we’d have a skylight above our bed so we can fall asleep under the night sky

and you’d tell me all about the different constellations

and I’ll tell you that your eyes look like stars

and we’ll have a fireplace to keep us warm in the winter

and in the summer we’d leave the windows open and listen to the cicadas

and in autumn we’d have a competition to see who could find the perfect leaf

and we’d stay up all night watching nostalgic Disney movies and eating buttery popcorn

and when we’d go into town to run errors, you’d try to follow the list while I’d just put candy in our basket

and we’d go to the little bookstore on the corner and try to find the funniest book title

and on our way home we’d stop by the bakery to pick up fresh bagels for the next day

and sometimes we’ll go for a walk in the park and feed the ducks

and we’d go to the farmer’s market every Saturday morning

and buy honeycomb and golden delicious apples and little silver trinkets

and on Wednesday we’ll have game night with our friends

and we’ll drink cheap wine and eat good cheese and I’ll get overly competitive

and you’ll try to cheat by looking at my cards and I’ll laugh and push you away

and we’ll stumble home together, laughing as we trip over each other in the dark

and in the early morning I’ll drink my coffee while you’ll drink your tea

and we’d sit together in silence, not quite ready to be awake just yet

and I’d make breakfast and pile your plate high with French toast and blueberries

and you’ll remind me to wear a sweater before we go about our day

and I’ll call you in the middle of the day because I saw something that reminded me of you

and you’ll tell me to get back to work, trying to hide your smile into the phone

and if we both get back home at the same time we’ll race each other to the front door

and we’ll lie stretched out together on the grass trying to catch our breath

and by late afternoon you’ll fall asleep, head resting in my lap as I’d read aloud to you

and I’d watch the sunbeams fall across your face and think that you’re so lovely

and you’d look up and tell me how glad you are to wake up next to me

and we’d sit on our porch swing watching the sunset

and I’d cook us dinner with vegetables from your garden

and we’d eat by candlelight and moonlight and you are the light of my life

and we’ll dance in our living room to an old forgotten love song

and you’d twirl me away before pulling me close to your chest

and I’d look up at you with such open adoration you’d have to look away for a moment

and before we go to bed you’ll turn to me and say that you’re so happy to be alive with me

and then we’ll wake up and do it all over again




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“Buck, you ghosted her,” Steve reminded. 

“I know,” Bucky growled. He was tired of the moralizing. He knew he didn’t have any right to be mad. None at all. But knowing you were dating someone else, that you’d been on three dates with him, was infuriating. 

Not because you were doing it, but because he knew. HE KNEW, the guys you were dating weren’t good enough for you. At best, they were stupid. At worst, they were just after your money. But he was tired of hearing about how much he fucked up. Sam, Steve, Nat… Hell. Tony and Clint. They were all riding his ass, trying to get him to call you. Or something.

Keep reading

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I wish I knew what it feels like

to be wrapped safely in your arms

feel the comfort of your heart beating inside your chest against mine

To know how your back moves as you breathe

and to feel the sweet hot warmth of your skin

I wish I knew what it feels like

To tell you the things I think

Every moment we are together

Instead of keeping them trapped behind my teeth

Until they spoil in the back of my throat

I wish I knew what it feels like

To let my guard down with you

Laugh at those things I know we shouldn’t

Cry when my heart breaks

Welcome you into the me behind the mask

I wish I knew what it feels like

To tell you that I love you

And for you to say it back

Without having to hide it underneath words that come close

But aren’t enough

I wish I knew

I wish you knew, too

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