#same

I lean my forehead on his bare chest and exhale. He must be siphoning heat directly from the sun. I push through the shame and embarrassment to say what I cannot lie to myself about any longer. 

“I want to touch you.” I whisper. “So badly.”

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reblog if i can message you and awkwardly make conversation with you so we can become best friends

More fun Zodiac facts here

Happy 100th Birthday, Bucky Barnes- March 10, 1917.

You’re so resilient ♥ It’s gonna be alright.  

“I shall never relinquish my sword for a ring.” -Elizabeth Bennet #bookworm #bookstagram #f4f #janeausten #prideandprejudiceandzombies #darcy #elizabethbennet #zombies #follow

“you already have a lot of books”

yeah I love youtube and love HP, so why not combine it? 

Writers

Writer says: So I had this crazy idea one day and I just had to work on it. Here ya go!

Writer means: So I had this crazy idea either right before getting in the shower or right before falling asleep so I grabbed my fucking laptop and shat all over it to create the steaming pile of crap that I now lay before you. I don’t even know if it’s good anymore. I haven’t slept in two days.

Writer says: Wow, real life’s getting busy! Sorry on the slow updates.

Writer means: My life is a literal storm of shit at the moment. Why did I decide to do this. Why am I still doing this. Everything around me is spinning out of control and I am staying up ‘til 5:30 in the morning every night to create a piece of work that will only get two comments and 12 demands for quicker updates. I hope no one’s mad at me, all I wanted to do was write.

Writer says: Wow! Would you look at that! I updated on time! Please enjoy!

Writer means:  WOOOOOOHOOOOOO BITCHES LOOK AT THIS PRODUCTIVE ASSHOLE GO YEEEEEHAAAAWWWW TAKE THAT YOU NASTY REVIEWERS ALWAYS DEMANDING ME TO BE FASTER! I GOT THIS SHIT I GOT THIS SHIT

Writer says: This chapter was a toughie. Glad it’s finally done!

Writer means: I don’t know if this is good or not. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’ve read the same words over and over and over again and I just couldn’t look at it anymore. My beta said it was ok but I’m not confident but HOLY SHIT I JUST NEED TO STOP WRITING THIS FUCKIGN CHAPTER.

Writer says: Thanks for reading!

Writer means: Please, oh please oh please oh please leave me a review. A comment. Anything. Please tell me you’re out there. Please tell me someone is reading this.

Writer says: I just want to say that real life is getting pretty hectic right now. Please try to be patient with me, I know you guys want updates. Thanks! :)

Writer means: FUCK. YOU. Who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from me?! You don’t know my life! I have a very busy life! I create shit for free, you entitled son of a pig-fucker! STOP LEAVING ME COMMENTS TELLING ME TO UPDATE SOON OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PUKE ALL OVER MY COMPUTER 

Writer says: What’s gonna happen next? Who knows? Hee hee ;)

Writer means: I have no fucking clue what the next chapter is going to look like. What’s my plot? I don’t know. I feel no emotion.

Writer says: Please leave a comment! It helps me write!

Writer means: I am begging you to leave me a comment because I swear it’s the only thing that’s keeping me motivated right now, I hate the work I put out and I need reassurance that people are actually enjoying this.

Writer says: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, big things are coming up! ;)

Writer means: Buckle up bitches, someone’s gonna die.

Writer says: I know I’ve missed a few updates, but I swear I plan on finishing this story! 

Writer means: *high pitched eternal screeching*

Writer says: Here we are at long last! This has been one wild ride. I want to thank you all so much for your support and love, I adore each and every one of you. I am so happy to say that this story has come to a wonderful close.

Writer means: My body is numb. Voices call out to me from the void, but I can no longer hear them over the beating of my racing heart. I am stressed to the point where I feel no relief. The story is done. It’s fucking DONE. I loved it, I hated it, it was a fucking storm of horror and pain. I can no longer see color. Now I can at last relax and…wait……wait a second………..holy shit I just thought of the best idea for a one-shot that’s totally gonna turn into a 50 chapter slow burn AU fic leT’S FUCKING DO THIS

My World || Credence Barebone

A/N: Well that took a while. It’s kinda angsty, I guess but idk… and I used she/her pronouns                                                                                                     Anyway, here ya go….Enjoy!                         

     Dark clouds loomed over New York City, spilling a heavy rain down on it’s streets. A maze of umbrellas could be seen weaving around each other in a mesmerizing and monotone dance. Dozens of people, no-majs and wizards alike, rushed home from work to free themselves of the bone chilling weather.

    One girl in particular, however, already sat comfortably in her house with a cup of hot chocolate, completely dry and quite warm. (Y/n) sat at her window, observing everything and everyone outside, one of her favorite pastimes. There always seemed to be a rush: to work, from work, and anything in between. Just thinking about it made her sad.

     “Busy, busy, busy people.” She muttered to herself, sipping her cocoa.

    The rained poured even harder, the wind roared even louder, and it made the soft music playing over the radio even sweeter. (Y/n) found herself swaying slightly to the unfamiliar melody, letting her thoughts wander from one thing to the next until it reached a pause.

    I wonder what Credence is doing, she thought, I hope he isn’t out in this weather; I know how he can’t stand it.

     It was true. Credence had often expressed his distaste for having to stand for hours in the rain as his…mother… did her foolish protests. He had often come down with a cold because of his keeper’s heinous policy of ‘evil has no rest, so neither shall you.’ He would often seek refuge with (y/n) because he had long ago learned that any sickness in his house would need to be cleansed.

    (Y/n) frowned at the thought. In all reality, Credence probably was being forced out into that storm and that made her blood boil. Her fingers coiled harshly around her mug. It was no mystery that (y/n) had a burning hatred for Credence’s caretaker. The first time she had heard of Credence’s almost daily beatings, he had had to hold her back from running all the way to that prison and beating up Mary-Lou just to see how she liked it. For that reason, (y/n) had never actually met his caretaker… at the insistence of Credence, of course.

     The song on the radio ended and (y/n) stood up, shaking her head. She didn’t want to think so negatively at the moment; there was a lovely summer storm occurring and her house was cozy and warm. She couldn’t let herself ruin her own mood so easily. Days like these were her absolute favorites anyway; the drum of raindrops on her window and the peaceful silence filling her house always gave her a funny sense of security.   

    The clock on her mantle chimed a charming tune, designating the six-o'clock hour.

    (Y/n) debated for several minutes whether or not a big dinner would be necessary, not wanting to make a big mess in her recently cleaned kitchen. She decided pasta was the safest bet and started to gather the items needed for the simple meal. She put the pot on the stove to boil and waited, sitting on the edge of the counter.

    I wish I had magic, she thought, head resting on her hand. Then this would go so much quicker. I’d be able to make a full coarse meal with the wave of my wand and the flick of my hand… if only.

    Despite the countless rules forbidding the no-maj and wizard worlds to coincide, (y/n) knew much about the magical world. (Y/n)’s own brother was lucky enough to be gifted in the magical arts, due to their father’s lineage, but she had sadly been born a squib.

     Squib. Such an ugly word. It made her feel ugly. While she could never blame her brother for being born the way he was, she couldn’t help but feel envy sometimes. She was stuck in the no-maj world, where she bought bread, took the bus, and did perfectly boring paperwork, constantly longing for a culture that rejected her for everything she was…and wasn’t.

    A whistle pierced through the small kitchen, calling (Y/n) out of her trance of self-loathing.

    "Oh, the water’s done.“ She told a very attentive wooden spoon.

    (Y/n) cringed at her awkward behavior and walked back towards the stove, forgetting her oven mitt and ultimately securing herself as the biggest dolt in New York. She grabbed the lid without the glove, causing the lid to hiss in protest when it came into contact with her dry skin. (Y/n) cried out in pain and clutched her hand to her chest, as the lid clattered to the ground. Her face twisted in pain as she watched her hand slowly turn white. Her vision blurred slightly and her hand burned and pulsed along to her rapid heartbeat. She gasped, blinking away tears.

    "Water, water,“ (y/n) muttered repeatedly, rushing to the sink and shoving her hand under the faucet.

    The cool water washed over the sore, but didn’t do much to calm the swelling. (Y/n) continued to mumble to herself as she went through all of her cabinets to find her first-aid kit. Bingo. She cursed under her breath as she tried to balance the first-aid kit in one hand and simultaneously nurse her other hand.

    Tick, tick, tick, tick.

    The clock was the only sound heard in the minutes it took to patch up her throbbing hand. When she had finished, (Y/n) held up her hand in front of her face. It was wrapped snugly inside some bandages and rendered almost completely immobile, looking like a puffy white mummy.

    (Y/n) groaned loudly. Of course she had burned herself. Nothing in the world could top the amount of bad luck she seemed to carry. The world hated her, didn-

    Ding dong

    Again, (y/n) was pulled abruptly from her thoughts. The doorbell sounded again, pulling her to her feet.

    “Coming!” She cried, rushing to the front door.

     And there stood Credence, head lowered, hair matted, and rain pelting him from every angle.

    “Oh my God, Credence, get in here right now! Are you insane?” (Y/n) frantically ushered her friend into her house, closing the door behind her.

    Credence was shaking, hard, but he made no move, to take off his coat or otherwise. He just stood, looking close to tears, in the middle of her foyer.

    “Credence,” (y/n) said softly, lightly taking his hand, “what’s wrong?”

    Credence lifted his head slightly, looking up into her eyes. He sniffed once, twice, then began to speak, his words shaky and cracked.

    “My…my m-mom. Sh-she…” He trailed off, looking down once more.

    (Y/n) gripped his hands tighter, she knew exactly what he meant.

    He had been beaten again.

    Her blood boiled, just as it always did when he was hurt. How dare she! How dare she! (Y/n) couldn’t fathom what kind of cruel person would whip someone under their care. She frowned deeply and tried to contain the burning, sizzling feeling rising in her chest, though it was quite difficult.

    “Credence.” She whispered, lifting his chin to look him in the eye, “Where?”

    He only whimpered in response. (Y/n) almost melted on spot; she hated seeing him like this. She hated seeing pain, his pain. The world really did hate her.

    “Credence,” she whispered again, calling his attention back to her, “We need to get you out of those wet clothes, or you’ll catch a cold. Can I do that?”

    He nodded mutely in reply, involuntarily leaning forward into her touch as (Y/n) gently slid his jacket off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She didn’t fail to notice the small cry of pain he emitted in doing so. Credence sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, though (y/n) didn’t know why…until she saw red seeping into his shirt from his back.

    Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

    She wouldn’t.

     (Y/n) gasped and looked at Credence, waiting for him to deny what she was obviously thinking. He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes, giving her all the confirmation she needed.

    “Credence.” she ordered, her voice cracking “Credence, is it your back?”

    He nodded, tears falling from his eyes. He had never been beaten on his back, never. (Y/n)’s hands immediately broke from his and cupped his face, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks. His hands soon followed, grabbing her own. For several minutes, they just stood together, foreheads touching. (Y/n) fought so hard not to cry along with him, but even through her soft words, her voice started to crack too.

    (Y/n)’s heart swelled uncomfortably in her chest, threatening to suffocate her until she could barely tolerate it. That feeling expanded and expanded, making her brain go fuzzy and her muscles ache. She didn’t know what to feel. She could barely even identify the different emotions swirling in her bloated heart: Anguish at her friends suffering, hatred for the one who had harmed him, yet a peace from being the one to watch over him.

    “Okay, Credence, we need to clean you up before it gets worse. Come here.”

    (Y/n) led him into the living room where her first-aid kit sat, still open from its earlier use. It was then that Credence noticed the layer of bandages on her left hand.

    “(Y-(y/n)?” He rasped, “Is your hand okay?”

    She looked up curiously from collecting items within the kit. He had just been flayed to an inch of his life and he was asking about her hand? Her heart was just about ready to burst at his kindness. Despite all that he had gone through, he still had the heart to worry about her, useless and boring her.

    She shook the thoughts out of her head and strode back over towards Credence, motioning for him to sit down with her. She locked eyes with him, silently asking for his approval, to which he nodded, blushing slightly.

    Credence slowly unbuttoned his soaked shirt and (y/n) went to work on slowly peeling his shirt from his tender, ruptured skin.

    It was a slow going process, filled with many apologies on (y/n)’s side. The more she uncovered, the worse his wounds seemed to get.

    Every few seconds, Credence would hiss through bared teeth, obviously in more pain than he was letting on.

    (Y/n)’s mouth turned down and her throat closed up, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She cursed the world. Cursed it for putting Credence, the most gentle and kind creature she had ever met, through all of this pain. He didn’t deserve such brutality, no one did.

    “There…we…go.” (Y/n) said, struggling to get her words out.

    A small thanks was released from Credence’s mouth as she balled up his drenched shirt. He took a deep, shuddering breath before slowly letting it go. (Y/n) contemplated her next words carefully.

    “You’re welcome…but I’m not done yet.”

    (Y/n) grabbed the gauze and bandages and set to cleaning up his back. It didn’t take as long as they had thought and soon Credence sat stiffly within a mound of bandages. Seeing his tense figure, (Y/n)’s eyes widened. He looked so uncomfortable, had she done it wrong?

    Of course I did, she thought sullenly, I do everything wrong.

    She hated herself for causing him even more pain. (Y/n) sniffed once, then offered to loosen the bonds. Credence looked back at her with wide eyes, but agreed.

    (Y/n) got to her knees behind Credence and started working. Only Credence seemed to notice the tremble that started in her hands.

    “(Y/n). Is something…wrong?” Credence hesitated with his words.

    He was genuinely concerned for his friend, but he still was worried that he had somehow  done something wrong. He didn’t want his one, true friend to be upset with him.

    (Y/n) stilled, seemingly done with her task, except…her hands didn’t break contact with him, they lay still against his spine. She sniffed once, twice. Then, her head landed softly on the base of his neck, where he could clearly feel hot tears seeping into his newly set cast.

    Unable to turn around, Credence sat, supporting his disconcerted friend. She gasped for air, sobbing harder.

    “(Y-(Y/n)? What’s-”

    “I’m so useless!” She cried, silencing his query.

    She felt so ashamed, so foolish that she had broken down. However, she couldn’t help the wave of remorse that coursed through her, dragging her deeper and deeper into self-loathing. A small cry escaped her lips as she continued.

    “I-I can’t do anything…for you. I can’t,” she sniffed, “help you. I don’t even have magic to-to heal you. I can’t d-do anything….but watch as you suffer and… and hurt. I can’t protect you or help you or-or even save you. I’m as useless as the hand I burned making…stupid pasta.”

    She cried even harder against Credence, wrecked with grief. Credence’s own throat started closing sympathetically to her sorrow. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but what?

    “And- and,” she continued, “I’m just-”

    “(Y/n).” Credence finally choked out, “(Y/n), please stop.”

    Credence turned around slowly, catching (Y/n) as she lost her balance slightly. Now they were facing each other, both crying, and his hands tangled in her hair, cupping her tear-stricken face as she continued to sob. Credence pulled her even closer so their foreheads were touching like earlier.

    He took a deep breath, trying to contain his tears long enough to say something, anything, to make her feel better.

    “I know… how you feel.” He sniffed, gripping her tighter, “I-I understand. But, you aren’t useless. You are n- none of the things you said… you were.”

    (Y/n) tried to interrupt, but he shifted his thumb onto her lips to silence her.

    “And-and it makes me sad that you think that way, because you are… the most amazing person I have e-ever met.” Credence blushed at his confession, but grew more confident, “ You make me feel so happy when I’m around you and… warm and… safe. You make me feel safe.”

    Credence smiled and sniffed once more. Their eyes met in wonder at what he had just spoken; he had never realized exactly how good he felt around (Y/n). She was his haven… and he was hers.

    “I hate that you think you can’t do anything, because you have done more for me than I ever imagined. More than I ever deserved.”

    (Y/n) laughed, a stuffy, wet laugh. Her heart leapt in the euphoria of his words, it swelled in a full and joyful way and she felt lighter than air. She couldn’t stop smiling at his kind words, at his warm eyes. She was lost in Credence and she never wanted to be found.

    Credence smiled back at her, his heart racing at the certainty of the words he had just uttered, feelings that he had only just now realized. He pulled (Y/n) impossibly closer, relishing in her smile, her warmth, her laugh.

    “Credence I-” (Y/n) laughed once more, “Thank you. I feel the same way. You… saved me. I-I thought the world hated me before, but then it gave me you. You bring so much joy to my life, you don’t even know. Thank you so much for being there for me, always, even if your whole freaking back is bleeding out!”

    They drowned in that stuffy, wet laughter together, their bodies slowly releasing all of the tension that had gripped them for what seemed like eternity.

    The cathartic moment calmed them both down and their breathing soon slowed to a steady, yet not quite even, pace. Their cheeks dried quickly, but they stayed flushed in a dull pink. The two stayed locked together, neither willing to lose the other to whatever lay beyond them. They wanted to stay like this forever.

    “Credence.” (Y/n) sighed out sleepily, “I want to tell you something.”

    “What is it (Y/n)?” He breathed.

    She looked straight into his brown eyes, calling attention to the importance of her next words. Credence’s eyebrows rose slightly to attention and (Y/n) tried not to blush. Her heart beat widely at the thought of what she was going to say, the three words that could change everything, for good or bad. She took a deep breath.

    “Credence I…I love you.”

    The world went still, so motionless even the dust in the air hung dormant. The rain stopped falling, the wind stopped blowing, the clock stopped ticking, and it seemed like the two stopped breathing.

    (Y/n) blushed, hard, and her head turned down; Credence wasn’t responding in any way. He just stared at her, his eyes wide and set directly at her.

    How could I be so stupid, she cringed, Telling him that? Now you’ve gone and made it-

    She was pulled from her thoughts once again as Credence’s hand slowly lifted her chin up to face him once more. She didn’t have time to react before his lips were placed firmly on hers, silencing her thoughts completely. He was warm, very warm… and his lips were soft against hers, cautious and inexperienced.

    He broke away and ducked his head shyly; Despite her earlier confession, he still was worried that he had done something wrong.

    “I-I love you, too.” Credence whispered, flushing redder than (Y/n).

    Their eyes met slowly, conveying words and feeling that neither of them could express, but they knew. They knew that they were safe… and this was good… and they were happy.

    They were home.

                            aaaaaahhhhhh now my child can be happy      

                                       @v-writings hope you like it <3

Hey, Writers

Yes, you. You, with the pen in hand, the laptop atop your lap. You, with the scribbles and the scrawls. You with the tappity-taps and clickity-clicks. You, with the eraser marks. You, with the red and green squiggles. You, who knows a piece of written paper equals a little more than half a typed page. You, who knows 50,000 words is about 100 regular pages. You, who doesn’t know how to spell a word because you’ve only heard it spoken, but never seen it written. You, who stuffed your work in the attic drawer. You, who saved your story inside a chain of files so nobody would read it by accident.

Your writing is important. Don’t give up.

¿Por qué soy lectora? Porque me niego a vivir una sola vida.