also if anyone wants a wall paper for these go ahead and ask

Second Chance - Part Four

I will never be able to get over the responses I’ve been getting to this story. If I could, I would hug all of you for your comments, your messages, all of it. I’ve decided I’m gonna try to make Sundays update days, so I have enough time to work on each next chunk the way I really want to, and then so @sannvers has enough time to proofread them. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you like chunk four! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 6,405

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress overs you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord @elenawrit @the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy

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Lionhearted - part 3 - nessian fic

Summary: Nesta and Cassian go on their first date and try to figure out how they work when they aren’t expected to bicker all the time. Nesta has a candid conversation with Feyre about their mother. Later, as Nesta and Cassian are beginning to find a rhythm as a couple, an emergency interrupts their progress.

Notes: This is… going to be 5 parts now. Just an FYI. I don’t know how this happened. Thanks this time to @acourtofstarsanddreams for helping me figure out jobs and apartments, and @illyriantremors for helping me make their first date more awkward :D

Part one, Part two : AO3 for comments : this chapter rated T : tw brief mention of Feyre’s abuse


When Nesta made this date, she wasn’t thinking clearly.

She considered canceling, considered calling and just saying that it was a mistake, no hard feelings, that she wasn’t ready to go out with anyone.

Instead, when she called Cassian the next day, she reminded him that she lived outside the city and that he would likely need to leave early to make it to her place on time. She still had that nagging question in the back of her mind and had considered backing out then. But the smooth, confident tone in his voice had done something to her doubts, and by the time Nesta had shoved her phone back into her pocket, they had decided on a restaurant and a time and he knew her address.

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okay so. as someone who runs one of the very, very few ocpd-centric blogs on tumblr (not this one, i mean @thatocpdfeel ), its actually so upsetting how little people know abt ocpd, even here on tumblr amongst other mental health bloggers. not to say anything bad abt those bloggers!!! its just not spoken abt much. maybe thats because its not as common as, like, bpd or avpd, but its also because SO many ocpd symptoms are ENCOURAGED by society. i get so many tags on my posts saying “thats an ocpd thing???” or “thats not normal???” or “im not supposed to do that???” like so much of what is killing us from the inside are things parents, teachers, and guardians all think are positive attributes to have, but we internalize those things in such a twisted and intense way that we suffer and yet are idealized for our suffering.
ive had so many people with other illnesses, like depression, tell me how ocpd has its upsides because i can be productive and get stuff done when they cant even get out of bed. thats not how it works.
ocpd is not being perfect.
ocpd is NEEDING to be perfect because even the tiniest mistake means you are the scum of the earth and deserve to die.
ocpd is not double checking your work to make sure you got everyting right because you want a good score.
ocpd is perfecting the wording of a single sentence because if it doesnt imply the exact thought you are trying to get across then it means you have failed and even if it is still technically right and no points are taken off, inside you know that it was wrong and it COULD have been better and your personal standards are ten times higher than the official standards because you know that the goals you need to reach to be successful are leaps and bounds above what the average person needs, not because you are better than them but because you must strive to become better than them at all cost because second best is still a loser.
ocpd is not orangizing your work station before starting a new project.
ocpd is crying and screaming while you trash 42 different versions of the same attempted project and shoving everything off your desk and wanting to pull out your hair or bang your head on a wall because you messed it up so many times already and if you dont get it right this time you will never get it and you will be marked as a failure for the rest of your life, unable to accomplish literally anything and youre so terrified of that thought you take six hours to scrub at your desk and mop the floor and take a razor to that bit of wax thats been stuck on the leg of your chair for a week and half and meticulously organize everything into boxes, counting every ration you put in to make sure they all even out, and listing everything thats there and labeling the boxes then straight up leaving the work area and not thinking about the project for another month.
ocpd is not having a folder of all your important documents because you know you will need them some time.
ocpd is having six folders, each containing vastly different documents, some of which are important, some of which are just old receipts to mcdonalds, some are keepsakes from friends, some of which are just a scap of paper with scribbles that you dont remember what they mean but maybe one day you will, and the rest are just any paper youve ever come across in your life. theyre all just as important as everything else though because the thought of prioritising them is nearly incomprehensible because they are all important and you need them all for equally important things so when you need, like, that paper for your auto insurance you first must sift through six hundred pages of notes your friends passed back and forth in middle school over five years ago and you dont even talk to them anymore but you absolutely cannot get rid of them. its all so important.
ocpd is not being productive.
ocpd is waking up and remembering that you are an inherently flawed and imperfect being, but also that your worth in this world is defined by what you put into it, so even if you cant be perfect, if you make enough perfect stuff or do enough stuff perfectly, it will all give the illusion to others as well as yourself that you are perfect. so you push yourself to do whatever it is you do. regardless of your other illnesses, you work and and try to be as productive as you possibly can because thats your only chance. you go into work sick. you push yourself past your limits, past what you know you are physically/mentally able to do, and you suffer for breaching those limits but all that pain is WORTH it because you are temporarily overcome with a sense of accomplishement and SOMEONE is finally proud of you. you did something right FOR ONCE. so even if you go completely nonverbal, or lay in bed for the next week in pain, or end up in the ER, or seventeen other things didnt get done, there was the most brief sense of absolute euphoria even if its almost immidiately replaced by a sense of overwhelming anxiety about what you messed up, forgot, did wrong, or ignored to achieve that feeling and the cycle of fixing, fixing, fixing repeats itself. ocpd is not being bossy, egotistical, or controlling. ocpd is a deeply psychological understanding that even the most insignificant mistake will reflect back on you in the most exaggerated and horrendous way possible. its knowing that if you ask your friend to go get you a red pen, but they bring you a blue one, and you dont know they got blue instead, so if you write even the smallest mark in that blue ink, even if its technically okay to write in red or blue, you specified red, so the fact that its blue makes it wrong and unnacceptable so in your mind its better to drop what your doing and get the correct red pen yourself even if its right beside your friend and you are already focusing on something else. the concept of asking others to do something, not even something in a manner of helping you but just to divide up jobs evenly, its absolutely impossible. because if they do something wrong, it will reflect on you, then you did something wrong and we both know that doing something wrong is completely out of the question. you would rather multitask four things at once, but the sight of someone else just twiddling their thumbs while you bust your ass is so infuriating! why cant they do what you are doing? why cant they just read your mind and know exactly what you need, when you need it, and be helpful? thats what you would do if they were in your situation! if they were working like you, you would hand them everything. you would also probably go ahead and just put that back for them. well, you could also handle that too. and before you know it, their job is your job and there they are twiddling their thumbs and looking at you for a job to do. its the phrase “if you want something done right, do it yourself” taken to a whole other level. ocpd is so much more than what people think. were more than just a “type a personality” or “perfectionists” and its not just “mild ocd” either. ocpd is painful. please remember that.

Lookie Here

Summary: Reader is Alfie’s sister and she’s just every bit as fun as he is.

Characters: Reader, Alfie Solomons, Ollie, Thomas Shelby, ‘bakers’

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 491

AN: This is my first Peaky Blinders Imagine please be nice about it.

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Bob Morley Imagine: My Bellamy

Requested by @jazminblake (I know it’s a little late but happy birthday 🎉😘)

Summary: Reader witnessed something terrible during her visit at home. Now she tells Bob about it and breaks down because no one loves her. But Bob tells her otherwise.

Inspired by a song: Never gonna leave you by US the duo

Word Count: 1326

Originally posted by bellamyblake-imagine

The sound of my doorbell buzzing trough my appartement filled my ears pulling me back to the reality. 

Pushing away the thoughts of an incident that had happened during my visit to my home, I hesitantly stood up from my comfortable spot on the couch and made my way to the door.

I had no idea who it could be and I wasn’t happy at all that someone disturbed my peaceful moment of feeling miserable.

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I have no idea why I’m posting this, but enjoy anyway. Warning for some brief violence and also some blood.

Geoff has known Gus since they were kids. Both had grown up in the system, sharing a few dozen foster parents before ultimately getting shoved out into the world at eighteen. When they realized ‘real jobs’ weren’t for them, they started conning the elderly out of their pension checks (something Gus got freakishly good at) before going their separate ways (Geoff wanted to try robbing banks while Gus stuck with the con business), but they kept in touch regularly and would borrow out their crew if the other needed extra help.

Geoff isn’t sure who’s running with Gus these days, but whoever they are clearly can’t be trusted with this job. It’s one of Gus’ downfalls, being unable to put up with people long enough to trust them to stay on his crew long term. In fact, if he had his way, Gus would have been his own crew, but even he knew he couldn’t do everything by himself. It’s not from lack of trying either.

“At least you’re here on time,” Gus says the moment Geoff gets out of the car. He’s leaning against the wall to his bar, arms crossed, a crate sitting next to his feet. It looks like weapons, but with Gus it could be anything. “Who’d you bring? Heckle and Jekyll?”

“Hardy har,” Geoff retorts sarcastically, lightly kicking the crate. “What is this?”

“Don’t kick it,” Gus scolds, pushing away from the wall. “There’s enough explosives in there to take out this street corner.”

“Jesus Christ!” Geoff jumps back, eyeing the crate warily. “Who the fuck are you dealing with?”

“That’s not important,” Gus states, gesturing for Ryan and Ray to take the crate to the car. “And be careful,” he snaps at them when they pick it up, struggling under the weight. Geoff rushes ahead of them, opening the trunk, and backs up so they can set the crate down in the middle.

“What the fuck is in that thing?” Ray asks, winded, glaring at the crate like it had wronged him.

“Sticky bombs,” Ryan replies before Geoff can, rolling his shoulders.

“And you know that how?”

Ryan quirks an eyebrow and smirks but doesn’t reply, closing the trunk. He can be really creepy sometimes, something everyone in the crew has pointed out on more than one occasion, but Geoff’s gotten to the point where he’d rather see Ryan be this kind of creepy instead of the standing over his bed with a knife kind of creepy.

“Call me when you get there,” Gus says when Geoff returns to his side, handing over a piece of paper with an address written on it, “just so I know you haven’t blown yourselves up.”


“I mean it, that shit’s expensive.”

“You’re a real friend, Sorola,” Geoff mutters under his breath, heading back towards the car.

Gus waves his hand dismissively, disappearing back into his bar, and Geoff snorts, sliding behind the wheel. He waits for Ryan and Ray to get back in the car before starting it, pulling out of his spot. Ray leans forward from the backseat, fiddling with the radio, flipping through stations.

“Everything is crap,” he declares after a beat, turning the radio off, falling back in his seat.

“You didn’t even listen to any of the music,” Ryan argues, glancing back at him, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“It’s crap,” Ray insists, pulling his hood up, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

“Here,” Geoff says, shoving the address Gus gave him at Ryan. “Punch that in the GPS when we get back to Los Santos.”

Ryan looks down at the address, reading it carefully, and asks, “Who needs this much explosives?”

“Besides you,” Geoff mutters, earning him a glare from the man sitting next to him. “I don’t know. Gus’s usual MO are cons, but lately he’s been sorta a go between for criminals. Anything not strictly legal that’s coming into or out of Los Santos goes through him first.”

“Sounds dangerous.” A feral grin appears on Ryan’s face and Geoff rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s also stupid. Anyone could gun for him at any given time, but he seems content with doing it. I’d feel better if he had people watching his back.” Actually, Geoff would feel better if Gus would just go back to doing cons. He’s less likely to end up with a bullet to the head.

“We’re all criminals, Geoff,” Ryan points out, sounding a little distracted, his eyes on the passenger side mirror, “we’re all gotta go sometime.”

Dread settles in Geoff’s stomach. “What?”

“Hmm?” Ryan looks up, turning his attention to Geoff. “Nothing.”

“You sure?”

His eyes back on the mirror, eyebrows furrowed, Ryan absentmindedly nods. “Yeah.”

Geoff shoots him several furtive looks, hoping to get some sort of explanation as to why he’s acting weirder than usual, but Ryan stays quiet. He also put his mask on, and Geoff would really like to know where the fuck he had been hiding that because it’s too hot for jackets and Ryan’s jeans pockets are not big enough.

Fuck it, Geoff thinks, deciding he does not want to know after all.

Ryan rolls down the window just as someone rear ends them, sending the car jolting forward, startling Ray awake. Geoff glances in the rear view mirror, his eyes widening when he sees the black van on his ass.

“Where the fuck did that come from!” he screams, pressing the gas pedal nearly to the floor when bullets start peppering his bumper.

“Just keep driving,” Ryan responds in an eerily calm voice, climbing out of the car, perching on the edge of the windowsill. His gun is in his hands, his thumb flicking the safety off, and he looks like he’s about to do some major damage. He’s also out of his goddamn mind and Geoff wants nothing more than to reach over and yank him back into the car, but he can’t do that and keep them on the road, so he lets Ryan do what Ryan does best.

“You’re on a murder break, you dumbass!” Geoff reminds him, instinctively ducking when another spray of bullets hits his car.

“I don’t intend to kill anyone,” Ryan shouts back before firing a shot at the van.

“Isn’t that a Lost van?” Ray asks, reality finally catching up to him, his head down so he doesn’t get shot.


“Thought Phillips took care of that gang,” Geoff says, swerving to avoid hitting a Station Wagon, wincing when Ryan shouts in surprise. “Sorry!”

“Clearly he missed a couple,” Ryan replies, taking another shot, spider webbing the van’s windshield. “And fuck you!”

“I said sorry!”

“Yeah, well there’s sorry and then there’s…” Ryan trails off into a hiss of pain seconds before plummeting from the car window.

“Ryan!” Geoff and Ray scream, the latter scrambling into the front seat. It takes some fast acting on Geoff’s part to keep Ray from diving out of the window after Ryan, dragging him back into the seat with one hand, trying desperately to keep the car on the road with the other.

“Take the wheel,” he shouts after Ray stops struggling, pulling his pistol from the holster hidden beneath his suit jacket.


“Just take the fucking wheel!” Geoff repeats and rolls the window down. He waits until Ray has his hand on the wheel before letting go, pulling himself up on the windowsill like Ryan had done. He ducks quickly, narrowly avoiding a bullet, and points his gun at the van. He takes a breath, trying not to think about the sticky bombs in the trunk, or the fact that one of his guys is probably a red stain on the road, and fires.

He hits the tire, sending the van spinning and some quick maneuvering has them coming to a complete stop on the side of the road. Geoff pushes himself back into the car, slamming on the breaks, skidding to a halt in the middle of the highway. Another car skids around them, having to practically drive into the desert to avoid hitting them, the driver still too freaked out about the gunfight to be angry.

Ray is out of the car first, Geoff right on his heels, both opening fire on the two bikers that scramble out of the van, taking them both down before they could raise their weapons. Once they’re dead, Ray takes off running in the direction Ryan had fallen, ignoring Geoff when he calls after him.

Grumbling, Geoff chases after him, but both skid to a halt when a masked figure limps towards them. He’s holding his side, blood soaking through his t-shirt and jeans, one of his shoes missing. Geoff can’t help the jolt of concern he feels when he sees Ryan stagger, but he keeps going like nothing happened. It’s really only a matter of time before he falls over.

“See, I didn’t kill anyone,” Ryan says once he’s within hearing distance, his words sounding a little slurred, unfocused blue eyes looking between Geoff and Ray.

“You look half dead,” Geoff comments and Ray nods wordlessly.

“Still look better than you,” Ryan retorts, limping in the direction of the car.

“He’s got you there,” Ray agrees shakily, trying for casual but not quite pulling it off. He also looks like he’s about two seconds away from rushing to Ryan’s side, but he’s fighting the impulse, knowing his help probably wouldn’t be appreciated. Getting shot out of a car couldn’t have done much for Ryan’s pride, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and having to lean on anyone would be like putting salt into a fresh wound.

“Just get in the car,” Geoff grumbles, moving back towards the car. He points a finger at Ryan and warns, “You die on the way home, I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

“Promises, promises.”

Love gives your enemies a perfect target

 PART 2 


Paul x imprint!reader

Warnings: Swearing, kidnapping, torture 

Request: “can u write a paul imagine where he imprints on the reader but doesn’t tell her but since it’s so obvious, some vampires kidnap and torture her to get back at him and he saves her and it’s super angsty and paul being a mess and a fluffy end? thanks!”

-There will be a part 3 i got a bit carried away in this part, and writing torture is harder than i thought i wasn’t creative enough hahah but there will probably be more in the next part, hope you enjoy<3

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Second’s Not The Same


Genre: Angst & Intended Smut

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cheating and mild smut

Summary: Inspired by the song ‘Is There Somewhere’ Halsey. 

Read Part 2 here.

You’re writing lines about me,
Romantic poetry,
Your girl’s got red in her cheeks cause we’re something she can’t see.
And I try to refrain but you’re stuck in my brain,
All I do is cry and complain,
Because second’s not the same.”

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Overwatch AU: Mercy (Claws that Snatch chapter 8 preview)

Claws That Snatch: Werewolf!Lena / Vampire!Amelie (With a bunch of other overwatch characters as monsters) (I should really just call this the Monster AU)


Featuring “Mercy” by Shawn Mendes

Please have mercy on me

Take it easy on my heart

Even though you don’t mean to hurt me

You keep tearing me apart

Would you please have Mercy


On my heart?

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Close Future - Part 3

Part: 1

Part: 2

Summary: Your stay at the Stark Tower is extended, and after talking to Sam, your time with the Avengers seem to take a more permanent turn.

Warnings: Pain (still a stupid warning but yeah)

Words: 2 304

A/N: Okay so I want to post longer parts than this and I’ll do that in the next part! Also, the tags are messed up I’m pretty sure I’m not tagging people idk. Sorry if it doesn’t work!


Originally posted by hospitalheaveninactive

She could hear sounds before she could see what caused them. Her head felt heavy along with her entire body and she could only describe everything as if she had been his by a truck and then fallen asleep for two days straight. 

“Y/N?” Tony called out as he noticed her nose scrunch up, eyes moving behind closed lids. “Take it easy.”

She managed to open her eyes and felt sick. She held back her guts and looked around the dim the room which only she and Tony were in. She heard the steady beat of her heart being motored to her side and felt a needle stuck in her arm, a long tube filled with clear fluid traveling from it.

“How are you felling?” Tony asked, taking a quick glance of her vitals before returning his focus to her

“Like the day after a hell of a night.“ She groaned, submitting to her eyes who wanted nothing but to close shut again. Tony smiled, liking the reference to himself as he asked Friday to alert Bruce that Y/N had woken up.

“We did some testing whilst you were out, tried to find out what happened? Seems that awesome brain of yours can’t handle too much awesomeness… We measured your brain activity again and it was lower than the before-numbers from yesterday. I’d equal that as to you needing to recharge, right?” Tony asked, trying to understand her powers which became more complicated the more information about them he received.

“Yeah, I guess they work like a battery in a way, only I don’t plug in the charger over night. I do that when I wake up.”

“So you just decide to fill up on juice, or how does it work?” Tony gave her a look as he neared the electrodes they had replaced on her forehead. She nodded and watched as he removed them.

“I decide to not use my powers. That way, my body can catch up from a whole night of work.”

Bruce appeared behind the glass door across the room and pushed the door open, remaining in the doorframe. “Hey, Peter wants to come in, if that’s okay?”

“Sure.” She smiled before Bruce walked inside and held the door open, Peter walking in right behind him. “Hey, Spider-Boy.”

Tony looked in surprise towards her before glancing over to Bruce who met his stare, his lips threatening to curl up into a smile.

“Actually, it’s Spi-”

“I know it is.” She interrupted Peter, still smiling. “I’m just messing with you.”

Peter looked down at her as she laid on the flat bed, eyes closed in tiredness whilst still talking to him. “Are you okay?”

“Oh I’m fine! I’ll be back to prime health in an hour or something I’m sure.” She assured the worried teen. “By the way, can we make this thing go up?”

She motioned for the bed and Tony handed her a small remote which had rested on the side of the bed frame. She pressed the up button and groaned in discomfort as her stiff and aching body moved. Her back began to repeatedly crack and she lifted her thumb, the bed stopping. “Oh, that’s not… Pleasant…”

“You good?” Tony grabbed the remote from her hand and out it back in it rests where she could still reach it. She nodded, briefly opening her eyes, her breathing heavy.

“Where’s- where is Sam?” She had wanted to know the answer to that questions since the second she was awake and not too out of it. Bruce looked away from her like he didn’t want to answer the question, but became the one who did it anyway.

“He left. Suited up, if you know what I mean.”

“Mhm…” She sighed in response. “Is Steve around, possibly?”

“I can go get him.” Peter volunteered, just wanting to help despite that it would have been easier to just let Friday contact Steve. Peter was out of the lab before anyone could reason with him.

She almost looked ahead in time to see how long it would take for Steve to get down to the lab, but she caught herself before completing the action thankfully. It was strange, to be so restricted when her powers were such a natural thing to hear by then. She had never really worried about not being able to use them. Sure, she passed up on it a few times the first hour after she woke up, but after that, things were back to normal again.

“Don’t do that.” Bruce said as he saw how her eyes never flashed with color but how they still became withdrawn from reality. She snapped out of her thoughts, her eyes landing on the scientist at the end of her bed. “I don’t know how your powers operate, but I don’t think you’re ready to run them just yet.”

“I’m not, but it’s so easy to fall into it. It’s been seven years since I got them and now I have to concentrate to it use them instead of the other way around.” She sighed as she felt the sick feeling from the sedatives still churning in her guts. “I think I’ll just stay here for a few hours or so, if that’s alright?”

Bruce nodded. “Of course.”

Peter opened up the door with Steve at his heel. The Captain looked over to Y/N who was visibly drained, not only physically. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, could we talk? Alone?” She asked with her eyes diverting to the others in the room. Neither o them said anything but began to leave. Tony had to push Peter out with him but soon the two of them along with Bruce were out of the lab and the door shut behind them.

Y/N turned her focus to Steve again who crossed the room to be closer to her. “You’re the closest to Sam here… I just want to know what your thoughts are, on all of this.” She gestured around herself, hoping Steve would get it.

“I think he feels bad, now.” He sighed, pulling a chair which stood against the wall to the short end of the bed. “I think that’s why he took off shortly after you fell asleep. I don’t know what you think about him, but just know that he’s not as angry at you as he makes it seem… He hasn’t told me everything from his time in the military but he has mentioned you multiple times, how you saved his life on countless occasions. He just needs time to accept the decisions you made and to move forward.”

The man was smarter than she had thought. “So you think it would be good if I stayed here?”

Steve remained silent for a few moments. He had thought about how much it would help to have someone with her abilities around, but he had also thought about what would be the best for Sam. His conclusion had been the same.

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded. “You and Sam both know that you work well together and in a larger team. You could use your abilities to do good by others and save lives… I have a feeling that that’s something you want.”

She nodded, feeling emotional all of a sudden but skillfully containing them. “It’s all I want.”

“Exactly, so we’ll fix this, whatever it is. As soon as Sam gets back I suggest you two talk.”

“I will- I mean, we will.” She sighed, exhausted. “And now that you’re here I just have to ask, where are the rest of the Avengers and who are they? I know about the Hulk and Thor but I’ve seen neither of them, then there is that man that became four stories high over in Europe about a year ago…”

Steve smiled, looking down at his hands in his lap. “There are a few more, but Thor is in Asgard, I think. And then Hulk and four-stories-tall guy you’ve already met…”

She looked at him, raising a brow questioningly.

“The Hulk is an alternate side of of Dr. Banner that he doesn’t really like talking about, and then Scott can become both four stories high and shrink down to the size of an ant, hence his nickname, Ant-Man.”

“No. Way.” She gasped. “Scott, is that guy? I never would have guessed.”

“Neither did we.” Steve admitted with a small chuckle which lightened the mood necessarily. “You have everything you need?”

He looked around her where he saw nothing but machines and medical appliances. She followed to where his eyes were and shrugged her shoulders. “You mean if I need anything after all you’ve given me and all you’ve done? No thanks, I’m more than fine.”

“Hey, if we are truly in the talks of you joining this dysfunctional little family, I don’t think you should worry too much about receiving things, especially not help. If I know Tony right, he’s going to construct the best suit you can imagine the second your name goes on paper around here.”

Subtle pain erupted in her head again and Steve froze as he saw the light dance in her eyes for just a split second. A strained whine rumbled in her throat as the spin settled, her lips parting. “Sam’s coming… I couldn’t help but see it.”

Perhaps her subconscious continuously tried to search for Sam, but it had not been her own doing to look ahead incase he would show.

There were two knocks on the door before it slowly opened, a quiet and withdrawn Sam standing in the doorframe. Steve glanced back to him, beginning to stand up when Sam put a stopping hand out. “You can stay.” He explained as Steve sunk back in the seat. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

She watched the man she had known for what felt like her entire life. The days and nights in enemy territory had seemed twice as long and harsh as the ones at home. The bond they had created was one of a kind and despite everything, both of them knew it was unbreakable.

“I’m sorry.” She began but Sam raised his hand again.

“No, I am. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. If I had your abilities, god knows I wouldn’t have a single clue of how to deal with them, when to use them and when to stand down. You’ve done an amazing job over the years and I owe you my life.”

“Stop…” She tried again.

“You would make an exceptional addition to the team, Y/N. I’m sorry we lost contact after Iraq. I’ll try to make up for the time we lost.”

She hated him. “You’re such a softy, you know that?” She laughed half heartedly, trying not to cause her body too much pain.

“Still not softer than you.” He teased, lips tightly pressed together in a smile as he tried to maintain some masculinity after her remark. Steve felt content seeing his friend unite with his own one.

“I’ll- I think I’ll rest now, though. We can go all soft later when this is over.” She winced and tapped her finger against her head. She reached for the remote and brought the bed down enough so that she was still tilted slightly. Her mind dozed away as the drugs still clung heavily to her body. She fell asleep again, a much warmer welcome awaiting her when she would wake.

“I swear to you, I flung around the entire Empire State Building!” Peter assured whilst Tony waved him off, knowing the truth but enjoying to torture the kid a little.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He said and took a bite of the grilled asparagus beside his steak. It was rare for so many of the Avengers to be gathered and even more so to eat a proper meal together. Tony had ordered in food from a five star restaurant in Soho however and no one on the team would ever pass down on such an offer.

“That does not mean you should do it.” Steve lectured Peter before he could say anything more. The elevator dinged, interrupting their conversation and pulling their attention towards Y/N that walked out in Stark Industries sweat-attire, pale and tired looking.

“Can I join?” She asked hesitantly, seeing a perfect seat between Sam and Peter which she had to assume had been reserved for her.

“Of course, here.” Sam got up and wandered to the kitchen counter which was the closest thing to the dining table yet far away due to the sheer size of the room. He returned with a plate of food as she took a seat, awkwardly smiling from all the attention she was receiving. Sam put the plate down for her and sat back down.

She look at her dinner, a nice steak with grill-patterns across its glazed surface, equally as appetizing asparagus beside it and roasted potatoes with red whine sauce on the side. “This better than anything I’ve eaten the past 10 years… Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked as he had been the one that kept the most track of her health.

“I’m fine. I’m not gonna push it, but I can use my powers again… Watch out for Natasha’s drink, Scott.” Y/N warned Scott who was mere inches away from the glass of water with his elbow. He swallowed his bite harshly as he and Natasha stared at her. “Anyway.”

“You’re sticking around with us?” Tony questioned, not wanting to get his hopes up too much although he had taken Peter’s side and liked the girl.

She glanced towards Sam who looked down at his plate, a smile on his face.

“Yeah, I think I might.”


@skeletoresinthebasement @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @zafinly @red-writer13

Like I said, pretty sure this isn’t working for some stupid, fUCKING, reason…

If I’ve missed someone, or if you want to be added to the tag-list, just write bellow or message me! x


Character: Lafayette X Reader
Prompt: The HamilSquad & Schuyler Sisters decide to go ice skating as the group outing for the week. While the boys join in happily, Angelica and Eliza plot to have you and your crush, Lafayette, forced to skate together.
Word Count: 3,104
W/T: Lots of teasing, some cursing, google translated French
A/N: What can I say, I’m a sucker for Daveed. He’s just so… Daveed. Hope y'all enjoy! ~SJ


“Angelica, I swear, if this is another one of your ‘matchmaker’ ideas to get Herc to skate with me, I’m not going.” Peggy pouts, crossing her arms defiantly next to you, and glaring at her two older sisters, who held a pair of car keys and eight tickets to an ice rink nearby. “Oh, don’t be such a Debby Downer.” Eliza groans, jingling the silver and gold keychain in her hand. “We always have one of these kinds of nights!” “Yeah, but it’s usually just the girls!” Peggy argues, flailing her arms in exaggeration. “You’re coming and that’s final, Margarita.” Angelica deadpans, tossing her dark swirling locks over her shoulder. “I already bought your ticket anyway.” “And besides,” Eliza interjects, quickly leaning over and grabbing you by the arm, pulling you to a standing position, “you wouldn’t want to leave Y/N as a third wheel, would you?” You smile timidly at your best friend, her eyes narrowing accusingly at you.

“Whatever.” Peggy answers hotly, pushing herself off of the couch. “But I’m only doing this because I don’t want Y/N to be alone with the guys. God knows what mischief they’ll get into.” Angelica and Eliza both squeal in excitement, spinning on their heels to rush out of the front door. “Don’t you hate how strung up they are on boys?” Peggy scoffs, her voice becoming a bit less hateful than before. “You can say that again.” You laugh, watching the two girls dressed in pink and light blue giddily hop into their car, their faces plastered with a goofy smile. “Eliza finally gets a boyfriend, and what do you know? She wants to invite him to everything that is meant to be for us.” “What? So you’re saying you don’t want to hang out with Hercules?” You tease, gently nudging her in the shoulder. “I didn’t say that!” Peggy quickly counters, pushing you away from her hurriedly, her cheeks brushed with a tint of pink now. “Oh, don’t be so sour about Eliza, Peg. Eventually she’ll get over the hype, and it’ll settle down a bit. Besides, once tonight’s over, I bet you and ol’ Herc will be on ‘better than friends’ terms, huh?” You smirk, taking in the obvious blushing of her face against her darker skin. “Oh shut up, Y/N.” Peggy whines, trying to cover her face up. “Aww, my lil’ Peggy’s in loooveeee~.” You gush, grabbing ahold of her wrist and forcing them down, that way you can watch her become more and more flustered. “Stop! Y/N stop it!” Peggy complains, freeing herself from your hold. “I can’t help it! My best friend is in love with my other friend!” You sigh, smiling happily at the thought of your two friends being an item. “And I suppose you don’t have anyone you’re falling head over heels for?” Peggy questions, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously. Ha! You think guys like me? That’s adorable Peggy, honestly.“ You cackle, shrugging off the thought. “Uh huh. We’ll see about that.” Peggy answers, clicking her tongue.

A couple of short and not so subtle honks from the driveway indicates that you and Peggy have been standing here for too long, according to Angelica’s watch. “Come on. The sooner we get there, the sooner you get to see your boyfriend~.” You sing, grabbing Peggy by the bright yellow sleeve of her sweater and dragging her out to the awaiting car.

Almost instantly you are bombarded by some loud rap music blaring from the speakers, Eliza beat boxing while Angelica managed to spit out every line fluently. Silently, you slide into the backseat with Peggy, hoping that Angelica’s rapping wouldn’t distract her enough to get into an accident. “Let’s go.” Peggy piped up, surprising her two older sisters. Eliza quickly turned the volume down and whipped her head around the seat to give Peggy a devious look. “Oh? You want to arrive so soon?” She giggles, sharing a look with Angelica. “N-no. Y/N just said she really wanted to get to the rink already!” Peggy says nervously, pushing the pressure onto you. “And why would that be?” Angelica asks, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road. “Because I’m the best fucking skater you’ll ever meet.” You sarcastically joke, rolling your eyes at what she was implying. “I bet he’d love that.” Eliza whispers excitedly to Angelica, hitting her arm. “Excuse me?” You automatically scoff, this sudden comment catching your attention. “It’ll be perfect!” Angelica answers, her smile growing at whatever she was thinking. “Y/N will go off skating, and lil’ Peggy here will be struggling along behind. And then-” “Hercules will come bounding in, and sweep her off of the ice!” Eliza finishes, staring dreamily into the distance. “Because let’s face it, she will be on the ground more than she will her feet.” Angelica snickers, almost missing the turnoff.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding as Angelica straightens out the car, continuing to babble on with Eliza about how cute Peggy and Hercules would be, not to mention their own love interests. You hope that they weren’t talking about you from the comment Angelica made, because you were here to help set up Peggy on their behalf. That’s the main reason you had actually come tonight, anyway. Eliza had begged you to help out in their plan, because Peggy would have never come if you weren’t there. Your gaze drifts over to your best friend as she crosses your mind, where her face is hidden by her hands, obviously to hide her blushing. This poor child can’t handle her feelings very well, and with all of the teasing she’s been receiving for the past couple of hours, you were kinda surprised to see how she was still managing to take it.

But you are quickly jarred from your thoughts as your momentum carries you forward, and your seatbelt jerks you back into place. A collective groan sounds off around the car as Angelica announces your arrival. The sisters file out of the car, Eliza and Angelica practically skipping towards the indoor ice rink. Peggy offers you a sheepish smile, her face still tinted pink. “Hey,” You start, noticing how nervous she suddenly was, “everything is going to be fine. Just be yourself, and if you need me, just wave me over. You can do it.” Hesitantly, she nods, gaining a bit more composure and confidence as you began to jog to catch up to her siblings. You and Peggy trail behind the two sisters ahead of you, their constant rambling seeming quieter as you got closer. “Oh, here’s your tickets.” Angelica smiles, holding out a pair of tickets to you. You and Peggy eagerly grab ahold of the blue entry passes, their paper seeming a bit thicker than the last time you came here. “Well? Let’s go meet up with everyone!” Eliza breathes, turning to open the solid metal door behind her. She grabs ahold of the handle and flings it open, the cool air and Christmas music flooding your senses.

The large sitting area ahead of you was alive with people, their conversations and laughter filling the air along with the overhead music. The far wall stood lines with a concession stand, a skate rental booth, and restrooms. The East wall was instead a clear window pane all the way across, it’s tinted glass allowing for you to see down into the ice rink, where many people could be found already skating. The other two walls sat blank, with tables and chairs lined up against them in a haphazardly fashion. The dim lighting of the lobby left you with a rather moody atmosphere, which seemed a bit peculiar. You pull your sleeves down over your hands, already feeling a bit chilly. You told yourself to wear something a little warmer, but God knows how stubborn you can be with yourself. “Look, there they are.” Eliza cries, her eyes falling upon a table towards the window. Everyone’s eyes follow her gaze until they also stop on the four familiar figures ahead of them, their laughter echoing quietly. Without another thought, Angelica grabs you but the hood of your F/C jacket, tugging you along behind Eliza and Peggy.

“About time you guys showed up.” A shorter man dressed in a grey sweater and jeans chuckles, taking Eliza in his arms lovingly, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Good to see you too, Alexander.” Angelica remarks, rolling her eyes at the two lovebirds. “Now don’t be bitter, the night hasn’t even started yet.” Another one of the males interjects, stepping forward. His low man bun and freckled face greets you and Peggy kindly before turning to Angelica, a goofy smile appearing on his lips. “I mean, we haven’t even gone to get our skates yet!” “Well we can’t skate without the proper equipment, now can we John?” You joke, ushering both groups towards the rental counter while Angelica frantically begins to hand out tickets. Alexander and Eliza practically rushed towards the booth, each already shouting their size at the worker. “What are we going to do with them?” You giggle to Peggy, who rolls her eyes in response. John and Angelica have already grabbed their skates, and began to follow Alex and Eliza towards the nearest bench, giddy to begin skating. “What size do you need?” The man behind the counter drones, his voice monotone. “11.” A deeper voice pipes, the owner of it gently pushing past you. His darker skin and grey beanie couldn’t be mistaken as he hands the vendor his ticket in exchange for his skates. His gaze turns to Peggy, who you nudge forward, her face an obvious mix of nerves. “What size?” Hercules asks, holding his hand out to take Peggy’s ticket from her. She happily hands it to him and replies, “6.”, earning a chuckle out of Hercules. “That makes your feet sound so much more delicate than they already are.” Peggy smiles boldly at Hercules as he takes her pair of skates into his arms, nodding for her to follow. Peggy tags along behind the large man, glancing back over her shoulder at you with a lovestruck smile. You smile back and give her a thumbs up, already loving the interaction between the two. “Y/N, mon ange, do you happen to have my ticket?” A thick and familiar French accent asks you, causing you to turn to the origin of the voice, a slightly tingling sensation rising in your chest.

You were greeted by none other than Lafayette, the French friend that the guys had added to their group during their first year at Princeton. His dark hair was full of kinks and curls, and tied up in its usual spot, almost like he had a puffball glued to his head. His darker skin made his teeth seem to sparkle as he stood over you, his height making him taller than you by a long shot. “Um no I don-” You start, grabbing for your own ticket from your pocket. But as you pull out the single ticket, you feel it shift oddly in your hand. Your eyes travel down to see that your ticket had split into two tickets, a small amount of tacky glue pressed against the bottom side of yours and the topside of the second one. “Those sneaky little bitches.” You breathe, still staring at the duplicated tickets. Lafayette says something as well, but you couldn’t understand his mumbling. Your eyes meet for a second, an all knowing looking passing between you two like electricity before you both turn to look over your shoulder at the rest of the group. Angelica and John are paused by the door to the rink, their own heads craning to look at you and Lafayette. As their eyes meet yours, they giggle, share a look, and duck their heads quickly as they disappear into the ice, obviously the culprits. “Well, looks like we’re stuck together for tonight.” You laugh, handing Laf his ticket. He tilts his head slightly, a small smirk etched onto his lips. “I don’t think I’ll mind, mon amour.” He laughs, handing the vendor his ticket, pointing to his size. You do the same, and he offers you his arm as you two turn to go to the nearest bench, ready to lace up.

“Have you ever done this stuff before?” Lafayette asks, struggling with finding the end of his laces. “Oh yeah. I used to go to the one in my hometown every Wednesday with a group of people I grew up with. It was a tradition then.” You laugh, your fingers flying along with your own laces, the muscle memory of doing this every week flooding back into your hands. “I can tell.” He chuckles, watching you stand up, your skates already tied. “Now you actually look of decent height.” He teases, finishing his own shoestrings. “Oh whatever, French Fry.” You laugh, staring at him as he stands. “Never mind.” He jokes, his gaze lowering to you. “Oh just come on.” You urge, rather eager to get out onto the floor. It’s been a while since you’ve actually been ice skating, so the cool air and overly musty scent of the arena are all but welcoming to you. You happily step out onto the ice, already gliding around like you used to to do, spinning around and around, creating a brisk and cold whirlwind around you. Slide out of it, back to the front of the rink, where you notice Lafayette frozen in place, his eyes locked on you.

“Come on, Laf! Why aren’t you out here?” You huff out, catching your breath slightly as you lean against the wall, looking up at the tall Frenchman. He bites his lip slightly, as if he were nervous to say something. “Laf? Are you okay?” You ask, your voice now softer and you gently place a hand against his arm. His gaze drifts down to where you placed your hand, a growing warmth kindling in it. “It’s nothing, mon amour, it’s just… I do not know how to, how you say?” He asks, gesturing down to your feet. “Skate?” You offer, it coming out as more of a laugh. “Skate! Yes, I do not know how to do that.” He exclaims, his voice drifting off in embarrassment. “Here,” you giggle, gliding around to the other side of him, holding your two hands out. “Just do what I do, it’s not that hard, I promise.” Hesitantly, Lafayette places his hands in yours, and you begin to skate backwards, towing him along. “So just move your right foot forward, and let it glide back around… There you go. And do the same with your left foot… Yeah. And just keep doing that.” You naturally instruct, speeding up slowly. Surprisingly, Laf got the a pretty good grasp on how to skate pretty quickly. “Now how do you stop?” He ask, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You use the toe of your skates, like this.” You explain, letting go of his hands for a moment and turning to skate the same way he was. You pick up a bit of speed before dragging the front of your skate on the ground, slowing you down enough to turn back to Lafayette, who was wobbly skating on his own.

“Like this?” He asks, jamming his foot into the ice much faster and harder than he needed to, causing him to end up falling face first into the ice. You manage to hide you laughter behind your hand as he manages to sit back up, slightly dazed. “How did I do?” He cheekily grins, holding two thumbs up to you. “Okay, you’re not allowed to stop without my help.” You giggle, attempting to gain your composure as you lean down and take his hand, helping him back up. “Yes ma'am.” He chuckles, steadying himself back on the skates. “I think I might need you for more than just stopping.” Lafayette admits, holding your hand a little tighter. “I’ll stay here as long as you need.” You answer kindly, flashing him a toothy smile. “Good, mon ange, because I think that everyone else is a bit preoccupied at the moment.” He suggests, pointing out a couple on the opposite side of the rink, her bright yellow sweater contrasting his darker one. “Oh my lord, look how cute they are!” You squeal, squeezing Lafayette’s hand. “Just look how adorable those two are together!” You stared, awestruck at the sight of your friends, while Lafayette stared at you, his attention directed to what he thought was cute. “God, I’ve been waiting for those two to date for ages.” You emphasize, turning back to Lafayette, meeting his gaze. “I was really only invited on this to force Peggy to come. Angelica and Eliza have been trying to hook them up forever.” “Oh really? Tell me more, mon amour.” Lafayette inquires, his smile soft and caring.

“Oh gladly.” You begin, a childish smile growing upon your lips. “Ever since Peggy met Hercules, I knew something was up. You know, it’s just kind of that best friend instinct, you know? Anyway, so I confronted her about it and she didn’t deny anything, which therefore means that she confirmed everything, because that’s how it works. And since then, I’ve teased her constantly about it, calling him her boyfriend and her love and mushy stuff like that. She’s tried to turn it around on me but she doesn’t know who likes me~.”

“Oh? Do you you have so many men after you that you can’t keep count?” Lafayette jests, nudging you slightly. “Ha! You think guys like me, that’s adorable, Laf, honestly.” You dismiss, glancing down to your feet. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, mon amour. I think I know of someone who is smitten for you.” He teases, smiling a mischievous smirk. “Oh? And who would that b-Gah!” You yell, tumbling forward as Lafayette drags you to the ice. You crash against him, landing on his chest. “What the hell Laf I told you not to s-” But your words are stopped by the warmth of Lafayette’s lips pressed against yours, making your face heat up. You kiss back, not aware of much you had been waiting for this. You pull away, your eyes meeting his as you pull yourself off of him, offering him your hands. He takes them gently and pulls himself off of the ice, giving you another quick peck.

“You did that on purpose, you sneaky bastard.”

yuri x reader (request)

POV: Reader
Pairing: Yuri (SNSD) x Reader
Rating: G
Comments: I don’t know if I executed this the way I wanted to. It also took my six tries to figure out how to start it. Hopefully it’s not awful and you guys like it. 8D

Summary: “for SNSD’s Yuri, a scenario where she is a CEO and she has to work with the reader for a next project, but they kinda hate each other, so it’s a hell for both. One of the few final days, they are working late at night for the so called project at Yuri’s office and they start to realise that they actually don’t hate each other that much and they like to be in each other presence, which is cool because their secretaries ship them hard.” - Anon

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Chapter 1

A/N: The yet unnamed, sad-turned-hopeful beginning of what I hope to be a multiple chapter fic about Jack and Shitty’s friendship. 2.2K. This starts after the overdose, so if you’re not cool with that, please avoid.

Jack Zimmermann was not ready for this.

It’d been a year and a half since the overdose, since the life he’d known had ended on the floor of a bathroom, tiles cold and clammy against his cheek, fluorescent lights glaring at him from above. Nothing. Then he was in a hospital bed, the thin sheets chill against his skin, tubes snaking from his wrists and elbows. His father stood in the window with a hand over his face as his shoulders shook. His wife stood next to him, a hand around his waist. For four days consciousness was fleeting. When Jack was well and truly awake, the last day went to psych. Doctors came in, asked him excruciating questions about his time in the Q, his childhood, his relationship with his parents, his coaches, his friends. To make sure it wouldn’t happen again, at least not right away.

Then came rehab. Three months in a residential facility, being watched all day and every day by medical staff with polite condescension. For three months Jack was no more than a crashed and burned almost-celebrity. Visitation day was Thursday. His parents were there waiting for him every week.

The next five months were spent with his mother in his parent’s house in upstate New York. His father stayed in Canada. The season began in a week. The Habs needed him. Bob stood on the porch of their home in Quebec as Jack and Alicia put their trunks in the car, a hand to his heart and a watery smile plastered to his face. As they drove away, Jack turned to look over his shoulder, saw his father still on the porch, head bent, body quivering. His mother put her hand on Jack’s knee until he turned back around.

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tick tock | jungkook

Genre: Fluff, Soulmate!AU

Characters: Jungkook & Reader [ft. Seventeen’s Hong Jisoo aka Joshua]

Word Count: 1.3k

Description: A soulmate!au where in there is a timer on your wrist which tells you exactly when you’ll meet your soulmate.

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Winners Don’t Always Get Lucky Breaks

OKAY FRIENDS. So this exists now. I could kick myself because it’s ALMOST as long as my big bang but I wrote it over 5 days instead of 2 months so…I dunno what that says about me. Anyways, POLITICAL INTRIGUE. ARRANGED MARRIAGE. ARK!AU. OLDER BELLARKE WHO DON’T GIVE A FUCK. (also kids. I’m sorry. I hate kid!fic but your solace is I actually have children and a stepkid so these kids are age appropriate and stuff) 

Thanks to my whatsapp girls for helping me keep the POLITICAL PLOTTING AND REVEGE straight. And thanks to Caitlin and Iara who read over to make sure that people who hadn’t seen the full timeline I worked up could understand what was going on. I’m making this sound more complicated than it is. omg. I’m sorry. 

Here on Ao3 

Or the working title: Arranged marriage AU where they have hate sex immediately.  


Bellamy Blake looked almost exactly as he did when she was in school, never mind that 10 years had past.

For a short time in her last year of secondary school, the year before she started her internship, two years before her father was floated and she was put in the skybox, there was widespread unrest on the Ark. Every year she could remember there was unrest, but this particular year, hers and Wells’ lives were threatened specifically. So for several months they both were guarded around the clock. And because many of the guards were found to be sympathizers of the opposing party, well, of course, there were only about four guards that worked the details. One of them was Bellamy Blake and Clarke spent a ridiculous amount of time keeping her blush under control and telling Wells that he was imagining her fidgeting. It was a schoolgirl crush and Clarke knew she made a fool of herself on a few occasions.

“Is the paperwork to your liking,” her mother prodded. Clarke looked up from the info pad and gave her a look.

“Looks like your standard ‘how to stop a coup before we run out of air’ type agreement.” She wasn’t sure but she thought she saw Bellamy Blake bite his lip to stop a laugh from escaping. It was out of her periphery, she was having some nostalgic feelings from school, and she couldn’t spare him a glance, she had to stare down her mother, but well, maybe.

“Clarke,” her mother scolded her like she wasn’t an adult with a dead husband, and a child, like she wasn’t about to be used again for her mother’s political gain. “Do you want to step outside?”

“No, Chancellor,” Clarke said with an air of condescension. “The paperwork looks fine. But I hope you’re going to buy us some new sheets or a punch bowl for the trouble.”

This time she was sure that Bellamy Blake snorted. His own representative, an older leader from factory station, sighed.

“And you, Mr. Blake?” Clarke’s mother turned now to him. He shrugged.

“I’d rather have new sheets. Punch bowls seem like an upper class thing and I can’t fathom when we’d ever use one. But I guess there will be parties now, huh? Do we have to have parties to show everything is happy and everyone is smiling?”

“People know this isn’t a marriage of love, you aren’t expected to put on a show,” the leader from factory station cut in.

“Sure, sure, but it looks better if we smile. I thought everyone from this side of the Ark was all about pomp and circumstance,” Bellamy replied looking pointedly at Clarke. Now she was irritated. It was always about the haves and the have-nots with people from any section below 5.

“We’re running out of air, the secret is out and our children and our parents’ lives are in danger.” Jake Griffin’s calculations were off by 10 years and Clarke was angry about the injustice of it all over again.

“My mother was floated already, as well as my wife, that’s why we’re sitting here right now. She was falsely convicted and you’re the only apology this sham of a government can come up with. ”

“Could float you too, that would tidy up the problem nicely, but since you’re popular down there in Section 17, despite not wanting to take a bullet for my mother’s mistakes, I’m here. For everyone’s good. To get us all to the ground without a coup by Diana Sydney.”

“Diana Sydney is who you should be floating,” Bellamy muttered under his breath.

“There’s no hard evidence for that,” Abby said from the spot behind her desk. They could only guess that she framed Bellamy Blake’s first wife. “So this is the new plan. We make you look appealing, and you overtake her in the election for council member.”

“And I don’t tell everyone that you floated a completely innocent woman for a crime she didn’t commit, right?” Something about Bellamy didn’t sound like a grieving man or even one that was angry with his wife’s killer.

“That’s line six or seven in the papers, didn’t you read it?” Clarke couldn’t help herself from asking needing to try and solve the puzzle of his odd tone. He turned to her, face closed off.

“I did, but I’m not an idiot, I’m going to continue to remind your mother of this every chance I get, just so we’re clear.”

“She prefers to be called Chancellor,” Clarke said with a tilt of her head. “She got my father floated, I prefer you call her that.”

Bellamy sucked in air baring his teeth as though he was in some sarcastic display of pain. “Heard the rumors but I didn’t think they were actually true.” He turned to the Chancellor who was barely concealing her annoyance at Clarke.

“Enough,” she said lifting her hands to slam on the desk, but seeming to remember herself at the last moment, gently placing her hands on the desk instead. “You’re the only one who can beat Diana Sydney in an election for her spot on the council. Clarke is going to take Kane’s seat, and the two of you can remind people on this ship that things are equal, anyone can flourish, you’ll be an adequate distraction while we try to get everyone to the ground. Sign the papers and get out of my office.”

“When are my new sheets going to be delivered?” Clarke spoke up knowing the wrath she was incurring.

“Honey, our new sheets,” Bellamy said with a smirk.  

“Right, sweetheart, our new sheets,” Clarke corrected, returning the smile.

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eggnog < vanilla latte

setting: coffeeshop!au, xmas-themed

central figure: Lee Taeyong

writer’s note: a little bit around 4k (3,834 to be specific) words because I love Taeyong too much if I could I’d write about him forever

In essence: The best gift of all is not making winter drinks, but seeing your favorite regular stop by to order his usual iced Americano 

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

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Gifts (Sugar Daddy!Michael)

Summary: Michael surprises you with a series of gifts

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: y/n x sugar daddy!michael

Warnings: smut, sugar daddyness

Masterlist | Have any feedback?

If you’d been asked two years ago what you thought of sugar daddies you would have laughed. The entire prospect of having someone ‘look after" you and provide everything you need struck you as a little weird- wrong, even. 

 That was before you met Michael. 

 It was your job that first led you to him. You were working as an assistant to a wealthy businessman who collaborated with Michael for a deal. You, being the hardworking employee you’re paid to be, put in all the effort and secured contracts, chased up Michael’s workers and oversaw the entire project. 

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Wrong Place, Right Time

Summary: Can I request a Scott Lang x reader fic where he accidentally breaks into reader’s house and it’s super awkward but reader goes with it? @pymparticlez 

Word Count: 1,497

Warnings: None.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy it! I had so much fun with this request <3 

Originally posted by peggycarte

Scott Lang was desperate. He had no other choice. When money proved to be scarce, all he had left were what Luis called “his mad thieving skills.” And after asking help from Luis, Kurt, and Dave, Scott had taken over two weeks to really scout out this house until he had gone over every detail. He knew the house in and out, knew the owner’s daily schedule, and he also knew that said person would be out of their house for the weekend. Something about a bachelorette’s party in Vegas.

Cassie’s birthday was next week and all he had managed to purchase was a beat-up bunny that looked like it had come out of Chuckie’s personal toy closet. The thing was creepy and had been known to scare the men around the apartment. He thought it hilarious, but he also knew that Cassie deserved better than a hand-me-down, crappy bunny.

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Escaping the Hawk

Originally posted by stebierogers

Pairing: Clint x Reader
Word count: 3,429
Warnings: Angst
A/N: A huge thanks to @faegal04 for reading this over for me!

Leaning into Clint’s side, you laughed along with the rest of the group. You were the only non-Avenger in the room, but you never felt like you were an outsider. Tony smirked at you and Clint. “So, when you two making her Mrs. Hawkeye and having baby hawks?”

Your cheeks turned red. “We haven’t, uh–” You started.

“I don’t want to get married, or have kids.” Clint said simply.

The room went quiet as you looked at him. You’d been together over a year, and he had said nothing. “Can I talk to you?” You asked him, getting up. Neither of you spoke while you made your way to the room you shared. Once inside, you shut the door and turned to him. “Were you ever going to tell me?” You asked quietly. “Or just make me wonder for the rest of my life? Or wait until I asked about having a family to tell me?” Your chest clenched.

Clint ran his hand through his short blonde hair and sighed. “I go off on deadly missions where there’s a good chance I won’t come back! You think I want to leave behind a wife and child? A kid to go through life without their father, knowing that he was killed in some violent way? A wife to mourn, not knowing if she’d have a body to bury? I love you, but this is dangerous work. I don’t want to make life harder than it is on anyone. And I have never in my life see a marriage actually work. I don’t want to get a divorce one day and put a kid through it.”

“So, basically, you’re 100% sure we’d get a divorce.” That hurt more than anything.

He moved forward and kissed you gently. “I love you, and I plan to be with you as long as you’ll have me. It doesn’t take a damn piece of paper to make that known.” He put his forehead on yours.

Keep reading

Scaredy Cats

* Hamilsquad × reader
* There was no prompt I just had this idea

A/N: Another Hamilsquad story! I had this idea and had to write it, basically the whole story came to me at once. Well, besides the end which is why it’s a bit sloppy…

You had to go get groceries. It wasn’t your favorite thing but someone had to, otherwise the poor boys would starve. “Guys I’m running to Walmart!” You called to your friends.

John Laurens came running out of his room. He was pulling an elastic band around his hair. “Can I come? I getting bored sitting around here.”

“Sure. I don’t care.” You shrugged.

Alexander and Hercules left their rooms at the same time. “I wanna go look at the laptops.” Alexander said.

“What’s wrong with yours?” You asked.

“Probably nothing.” Muttered John.

“I just want something to do.” Hercules said while pulling his cap on.

“Iz everyone going?” Lafayette asked from the doorway to his room.

“Apparently.” You said.

“I’ll come too then” he said and turned to find some shoes.

“Whatever. The more the merrier I guess.” You said. All the boys piled into your car, John had called shotgun but Alexander took it from him. So he was left sitting in the back pouting. You plugged you iPod into the stereo and hit suffle. You all were singing loudly to all the songs, however, the boys would deny the fact that they sang along to Let it Go.

You got to Walmart and it didn’t take the boys long to scatter. John was pushing the cart and tried to run off. “Oh no.” You stopped him. “If you have the cart you’re sticking with me.”

“Alright.” Only this entailed him acting like him acting like a five year old who was allowed to push the cart. You went through the food section and began crossing things off a list. Hercules eventually wandered back to you guys with a six pack. After you had everything you needed you need to fine the other two boys.

“Where would they be?” You wondered allowed.

“Alexander will be down by the laptops.” John said currently tipping the cart back so it was on its front wheels only.

“I saw Lafayette down in the baking isle.” Hercules told you.

“Let’s go get him first then.” You said. Sure enough he was there and threw some ingredients for cookies in the cart. Next you wandered down to the electronics and had to practically pull Alexander away from a new laptop. “Yours works just fine!” You told him. He huffed and crossed his arms but followed you anyways. Walking past the racks of movies your eyes spied a new horror film. “Guys let’s get it!” You said excitedly.

“Let’s not.” Said Alexander. All the boys nodded in agreememt.

“Why not?” You asked.

“Uh it just didn’t look good.” Alexander said.

“Yeah I don’t think it’ll be scary enough to warrant a watch.” John added.

“Plus it seems we are always watching films d'horreur.” Lafayette spoke up.

“Do you really want to waste another night with pizza, beer, and movies?” Hercules asked.

You pondered it for a moment. “Yes.” You said and tossed it into the cart. You paid for everything and piled back into the car. John ran out to the car ahead of everyone so he could have shotgun. He spent the car ride changing the songs on your iPod.

When you got home you made the boys help you put the groceries away. Then you put a frozen pizza in the oven. “Don’t go far guys. We are watching this movie tonight.”

“Really?” Lafayette asked.

“Yeah. What’s up with you guys? You guys are usually the one to suggest watching some movie.” None of the boys spoke up. About 15 minutes later the pizza was done. You cut it up and gave everyone a slice on a paper plate. They all grabbed a beer from the six pack.

You started up the movie and quickly learned why the boys were all against it. They were scared. They were beyond scared, they were terrified. You laughed when they screamed at a pitch they would deny came from them later. The movie ended and all the boys let out a sigh of relief. “You guys are wimps!” You exclaimed as you began gathering the plates and bottles. “It wasn’t even that bad.”

“How did you not find that scary?” John asked.

“It just wasn’t.” You said. They all looked at you confused. You shrugged. They all went their separate ways to get some sleep. You were watching some videos on YouTube when there was a knock at your door. It was almost 1 o'clock in the morning. You opened the door. A sheepish John was standing there.

“Hey…I was wondering if I could come and kill some time with you. I can’t sleep.”

“Still scared?” You joked.

“Terrified.” John surprised you with his answer.

“Get in here.” You told him. “What should we do?”

“Netflix binge!” He jumped up on the bed and grabbed your laptop. You scrolled through the website and decided on Parks and Rec. The first video was loading when your door opened and Lafayette poked his head around the side while taping the wood with his knuckles.

“May I join you two?” He asked. “The movie may have effrayé me quite a bit.” He admitted.

You scooted close to John and patted the space next to you. He smiled his wide happy grin that always made you smile too. You were halfway through the second episode when the the door opened again. “Was there a Netflix binge I wasn’t invited to?” Alexander asked.

“Join in if you want.” You said. Alexander climbed up on your bed and sat behind you. He sat criss crossed and grabbed your pillow. He held it close to his chest and leaned forward so he could see the screen better.

“Thanks. There was no way I was sleeping. Not after that film from hell.” Alexander said. The episode didn’t even finish before Hercules opened your door.

“Come sit.” You said before he could say anything. He smiled and came to sit by Alexander.

You guys let Netflix run and watched the show late into the night.

You woke up with a groan. You were stiff. And you mind registered it was because you slept leaning against someone. Over time last night you all had moved around. John ended up asleep leaning against the wall and you slept against his shoulder. You looked at him, still asleep. Hair was escaping from the pony tail and hanging in his face.

Alexander had his head at the front of the bed but your pillow was still clutched in his arms. His legs were curled up close to his body to make room for the others on the bed. He had let his hair down and it was tangled in many places.

Hercules was on the other side of John. You looked and he was flat on his back. He had his legs stretched out, however, they were longer than your bed and hanging off the end. At some point during the night he lost his hat.

Lafayette was in the other corner of your bed at the end. He was also curled into a ball but he wasn’t clutching a pillow and kid of reminded you of a cat curled up. His curls were completely wild from sleep. You looked for your phone with out waking anyone and took pictures of them for blackmail later.

Just then you got a horrible, but wonderful, idea. You looked up the trailer for the movie before turning your phone down. You watched through it and pause it right before the trailer played the sound of the demonic creature and a scream. You turned the volume all the way up. You scooted in the corner of your bed by the wall so no one would accidently hit you. You held the phone out and tapped play.

John woke up with a shout. Lafayette woke with a start which caused him to fall off the bed. Alexander threw your pillow. Hercules shot up and slipped off the bed as well. You were sat in your corner laughing.

The guys all glared at you.

“Y/N, that wasn’t very nice.” Alexander said.

“Really mean.” John agreed.

“But it was funny.” You argued back.

“Maybe for you mademoiselle.” Lafayette shot back.

“You didn’t fall off the bed.” Hercules said.

“I also didn’t need to be protected from scary monsters last night.” You retorted. The boys didn’t say anything I response. Well, until John spoke up.

“Well whatever, we’re picking the movie next time.” You just laughed.