and accept this thing i found at the bottom of my drafts

Golden Age

Cole Sprouse x Reader

Summary: It’s the Golden Age - 1950s - in a fictional town/city of Twin Oaks with a fictional take on L.A. Your new job as a singer at The Blue Room introduces you to Cole Sprouse - a mysterious, handsome man. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into now that he’s got his sights set on you.

Word Count: 1420

Warnings: Smoking

A/N: I was just going to dive into this story, but I really wanted the meet cute. I wanted to flesh out the characters as I saw them and wanted them. This is definitely only a rough draft beginning. I thought I’d post it just to give myself a start. I may just change this to the prologue later. Also critiques are welcomed. Hope you enjoy!


“I’ve got this gig down at The Blue Room in two hours.” You looked at your roommate through the mirror of your vanity while applying your favorite ruby lipstick. She held a look of wild excitement. “What are we doing standing here? We better burn some rubber and get there!” She snatched a red dress from the spine of a chair and disappeared.

The two of you met up shortly in the foyer of the two bedroom flat you shared in the city. Lili gawked at you in your stunning black satin lace, off-shoulder gown. You flushed as she grabbed your hands and whisked your forward. “Oh doll, you’re going knock’em dead tonight.”

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The Stromes and McDavids - Part II

(1) (3) (4)

Word Count: 1487

Player: Connor McDavid (Edmonton Oilers/Erie Otters)

Warning/s: mild swearing

This is a repost of my own work!

Originally posted by konecny

“Dyl.”, you groaned, continuing to shove waffles into your face.

Connor was standing behind the counter, watching you and Dylan curiously. After the weird car ride home from school, during which Dylan made bizarre comments about your attention being somewhere else all the time, he had continued his investigation in the kitchen. But you were having none of it. Dylan could be persistent and annoying when he wanted to be.

“She’s seeing someone but she won’t tell me who it is.”, Dylan snarled.

Connors’ eyes found yours, a frown on his face. You snapped away from his gaze, glaring at Dylan with anger rising in your chest. Where the hell did that all come from? Everything had been fine two weeks ago!

“Dylan, stop it. I’m not seeing anyone.”, you snapped.

“Really? You’re always on your phone, constantly checking your emails and you are so mysterious, always leaving the room to answer a phone call, claiming it’s Ryan!”, your brother listed, really frustrated with you.

He was right, you were hiding something but you didn’t have a boyfriend. It would be weird considering that three weeks prior to Dylan’s questioning, you had been kissing Connor in some dark closet at a party.

“Because it is! I’m not dating anyone. Am I not allowed to call Ryan in private? Stop digging through my business. It’s annoying.”, you cautioned, putting your food down.

“Liar.”

“Idiot!”, you shot back, loudly jumping off the counter. 

You walked up the stairs, leaving the boys in the kitchen. You were having none of Dylan’s shit. He was mindlessly throwing accusations at you out of pure curiosity but you were stressed enough already. All Dylan heard was your door slamming shut, making him flinch. Connor waited for a few seconds before he sighed.
“I’m gonna talk to her. Be right back.”, he excused himself, walking upstairs.

  

His soft knock was what interrupted you while you were hiding your face in your pillow. You wanted to scream. Of course, Dylan wouldn’t drop this. Which meant you had to tell him soon.

“Come in, Con.”, you called out, flipping over.

Your hair was going absolutely rogue. A few streaks were lying across your forehead as you watched Connor. He came in, closing the door behind him in the process. Connor looked at you for a second, before he came up to the bed and lay down next to you, propped up on his arms.

“Did the idiot send you?”, you mumbled.

Connor extended one of his hands. He shook his head, gently putting your hair back into its place. Instead of pulling his hand back, though, he rested in on your cheek. His mind was whirling. He looked distracted for a second before he moved his body closer to yours, leaning in for a kiss.

Shock took possession of your body, as you watched Connor come closer and closer. You hadn’t really talked about the kiss at the party and you sure as hell didn’t share another kiss after that.

You really wanted to kiss him, that wasn’t the problem. But if you’d allow it, he would be affected by your secret too and you didn’t want that. So you brought your hands up in front of you, pushing against his chest carefully.

“Connor. Stop.”, you murmured. 

Connor’s eyes fluttered open. He looked at you for a second, so close that you didn’t allow yourself to breathe. But then he pulled back, giving you enough space to sit up. The disappointment was visible in his eyes as he sat up himself.

“So you are seeing someone.”, he stated.

“I’m not. Really.”, you emphasized.

“Then why would you stop me from kissing you? Three weeks is a really short time for someone to just completely change their mind.”

“It would only make things complicated. And with Dylan and graduation… I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“So you don’t want to kiss me because it would make things complicated? Really? Couldn’t you have thought about that three weeks earlier? Or about Dylan? Because you didn’t seem to mind the way I can remember!”, he snapped. 

You brought a little more space between the two off you, shocked by his reaction. But before you could say anything, he continued talking.

“I never said anything to you about feelings and stuff! You kissed me. And now you’re telling me that you just don’t want to mention it again? You’re confusing as hell-”, he rambled.

“Edmonton.”, you interrupted.

Connor gave you a confused look, his frustration obviously gone. 

“What?”

“Connor, I’m leaving Erie.”, you confessed, biting your bottom lip.

Connor looked like someone just hit him with a truck. You had never mentioned Edmonton aside from the usual hockey talk, and now this. When did you plan all of this?

“Edmonton?”, he asked, at a complete loss for words.

“More specifically the University of Alberta. That’s where I want to go after I graduate. And it’s also the reason that I have been talking to Ryan more than usual. He’s been helping me send in my admission.”

“Alberta?”, Connor asked again, still confused.

“Connor, I’ve known for a while that I won’t stay in Erie. And I wanted to go to college. Study law. So I sent out Admissions. Toronto, Edmonton, and a few others. But Edmonton is where I want to go to. It’s my dream school. I kept it a secret until now. Because I didn’t want everyone to know in case they don’t accept me.”, you explained with a sigh.

Connor was silent, just staring at you. He looked from you to his hands and back before he finally settled his gaze on you.

“So you’re just going to leave?”

“It’s not a big deal, Connor, really.”

“Not a big deal? Moving across the damn country is not a big deal to you?”

“What did you expect? I mean it’s not like you or Dylan are staying here. So why am I supposed to? That’s how it’s going to be. Dylan is going to get drafted. You too. I will go to college. It’s called growing up.”, you answered softly.

But Connor was still disappointed, you could see it. He stood up from your bed and walked to the door.

“Connor?”, you asked, totally confused.

“I gotta go. Dylan’s waiting. Have fun in Edmonton.”, he pressed out, so forced that you could actually hear his clenched jaw out of his words.


“Ok, what’s going on?”, Dylan asked later, standing in your doorway. 

You shifted slightly, patting the bed next to you. You were both laying there, staring at the ceiling. After Connor stormed out you were thinking about everything, not able to focus on anything else.

“Connor was angry as hell when he came down. What did you do to him?”, Dylan joked.

“I told him the truth.”, you breathed.

“About what?”

“About my plans for the future. Which is coincidentally the same reason why you think I have a boyfriend.”

Dylan turned his head to look at you, both of you sitting up. You got your computer from the bedside table and turned the display on, the UAlberta’s starting page still open. You watched Dylan’s gaze as he stared at the header in confusion until realization dawned on his face.
He turned around to you, watching you for a second before looking back to the computer.

“You’re gonna move to Edmonton?”, he asked, obviously surprised.

“If I’m getting accepted, yes.”

“They would be stupid not to take you. But is that what you want to do?”

“Yes. It’s my dream college, Dyl. And I wanted to wait with telling you because I know you can act like a special snowflake from time to time.”, you snickered.
Dylan chuckled, lying back down, this time on his stomach, facing the screen.

“So come on.”, he ordered.

“What?”

“I at least want you to show me which faculty you want to study in. And which sports teams they got.”

You smiled at how good your brother was taking the news, as you settled down next to him.

“You know that Connor is probably angry because he likes you, right?”, Dylan suddenly said as you were just about to open the next page. You looked at him before you nodded slightly.

“Yes.”

“And does he know you like him too?”

You looked at Dylan in shock. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He was calm, just straight up asking his questions.

“Kind off.”, you admitted.

Dylan nodded, before he turned back to the page, reading the first words.

“Well then, tell me about the… uh, Pandas?”

Hate at First Sight

Prompt: Can I request a Thomas imagine where the reader is really good friends with Alex and Thomas and the reader are keeping their relationship secret then Alex walks in on them about to get it on? Thanks

TW: none

Your meeting wasn’t exactly love at first sight. When you and Thomas first met, you were waiting for your friend, Alexander, to exit a meeting, since he had promised you to dinner afterwards. You sat patiently, men in waistcoats turning their alien gazes towards your form, causing you to feel violated over their judgemental stares. Their eyes quized you, asking “why you were here” “what was a woman doing in the state house?” and other misogynistic thoughts. Your hands gripped the skirt of your dress, remaining calm under the sexism. You and Angelica had read the same pamphlet, ideas getting into your mind. Both of you wanted women to have the rights they deserved, working alongside men rather than being treated like ignorant fools whose time is better spent giving birth and cooking.

When the hall was empty, you relaxed, listening to hushed whispers on the other side of the door. Despite your beliefs, you didn’t plan on pushing you luck and entering the room out of curiosity to what they may be discussing. You remained silent, eyes shut as you listened to the pattern of the room. Sometimes there’d be a shuffle of a chair, and you’d think the meeting was adjourned. Alas, it was merely someone in an uncomfortable position. A sigh locked on your lips, growing fatigue from the amount of waiting. You were hungry, and wanted to avoid the odd stares. Still, you waited, glancing at the large clock as it struck 7:00. Immediately afterwards, you heard ruffling in the room behind you, and excitement touched  your body. You perked as you stood up, glancing at the double doors in anticipation.

The first one out was an eccentric man you’d never seen before.He was dressed in a fine magenta velvet tail coat, his hair messily loose around his face, a wide smile set into a laugh as he smack the man beside him, a friend. He was very handsome, and his expression said that he knew that perfectly well. He obviously wasn’t paying attention, but that didn’t stop the collision from hurting. You felt yourself land on the ground, the man’s smile instantly vanishing.

“Oh wow, Are you alright, ma’am?” He extended a hand, letting you pull the hair that was in your face away before grabbing your hand and helping you up. You let out a sigh and a soft smile settled on your lips.

“Yes, I accept your apology.” You said calmly, cutting past him to look for Alexander. You heard a scoff behind you, the man leaning over to his friend, just as tall as him, and whispering.

“What even is she doing here? This is no place for woman. They wouldn’t be able to comprehend such ordeals.” Both him and the man beside him let out a laugh. You froze in your step, eyes wide in pure anger and shock. You had dealt with the stares enough to know that “you weren’t supposed to be here” and you listened to them. Hearing it voice boiled the anger that had been streaming since you arrived.

“Pardon me…?” You turned, your brow furrowed at you glanced at the man. His laugh slowed as his gaze settled on you. A smirk slid across his lips as he walked over. He settled a hand on the wall beside you.

“Why don’t you let me walk you home, dear? This isn’t a good place for you, full of dangerous men that’d take advantage of you.” He said, smiling softly. You crossed your arms and scoffed.

“Why, thank you for warning me. Now I know exactly who to stay away from. I hate the color purple.” A feature in his confidence faltered, and he slowly pulled away.

“No need to be hostile, no need to fake intelligence that isn’t there.” He said with a scoff. That was the last straw.

Oh, did you let him have it. Your words slurred in and out of languages you had studied since a child, slurs that a woman shouldn’t speak escaping your lips (luckily in French or Spanish). You spoke of philosophies that easily came off as insult, and you degraded everything about him, from the  way he walked to the way he spoke. You had never seen someone’s expression alter so quickly. When you were finished, you took a large breath, glaring at him. A clearing of a throat behind you brought your attention to the friend you had been waiting for. Instantly, you relaxed, walking over.

“Good evening, Alexander.” You said calmly. To be honest, the rant had helped you calm down from the pent up anger.

“Ah, Jefferson, I see you’ve met my dear friend, Y/N.” He watched the man’s eyes scan both of you, before chuckling. “Man, Y/N, you did you. You’ve rendered him speechless. I’m surprised. Now, I’m really going to treat you.” You laughed a bit and shrugged, glancing back at the man. Suddenly the realization as to who you just yelled at settled. You had let out your anger on Thomas Jefferson. A gulp lodged your throat as you passed him, curtsying in a calm respect.

“Sir..” You said calmly, leaving the state house. As soon as you did, you slammed your hand into your forehead, which caused Alexander to burst into laughter, knowing exactly why.


A week later, you received a formal letter, unmarked, and it wasn’t until you saw the signature at the bottom that you knew who it was.

Madam L/N,

It is with the deepest apologies that I send this letter. I hadn’t realized previously how passionately you viewed the world, and, in a fit of admittance, I am thoroughly impressed with your intellectual power. It with great curiosity that I wonder how Hamilton could’ve possibly found such a gem as yourself. Through research, I’ve discovered he is a mere friend. Is this true?

This being said, it would be the greatest of honors that I may be able to court you.

For a moment, your heart stopped, and you looked around your room in pure shock. After the words settled, you continued reading.

The way a fire sparked in your eyes as you spoke with such passion, I’d be a fool to not try to ask you to be mine. I’ve never met such an incredible woman.

Yours respectfully,

T. Jefferson, Secretary of State

And that was how it all began. You had discussions about the world and your views, and found many things in similar. It was like a dream. You had found  that you couldn’t talk politics with Alexander because you couldn’t agree with everything. You did, however, believe in Thomas’ views. The first thing you did was apologize for your behavior, to which he laughed and laid a kiss on your hand, saying that it was what made him develop feelings for you.

The way Alexander had talked about him, he seemed like such a villain. And yet, here you stood, in front of a very caring man, who had gone out of his way to find your name and address so that he may write love letters. Still, you had to hide such a relationship from Alex. He despised this man, he had never agreed with him. He would never approve of this.

It has been nearly a month since your first encounter, and you had fallen for him hard. He was so caring and loving, far different from any revolutionist that you had ever met. His stories of France were enchanting, and his writing was almost as elegant as Alexander’s. Of course, you’d never tell him that, his ego was just a fragile.

“My love…” You heard him say, his hand settling on yours. You were sitting on a bench in the park, overlooking a beautiful field, full of children playing and couples walking. Your head was on his shoulder as you enjoyed the evening, your arm hooked on his.

“Yes?” You inquired, glancing up at him. His cheeks were slightly red, which surprised you. He didn’t get flustered easily.

“This month has been a dream beside you. I’m excellent with finding the right words to draft a declaration, to speak my mind, but I have never been able to perfectly craft my emotions for you. The only thing I can say is that I never want this to end…” He slowly pulled away, lowering to his knee, and resting his hand in his pocket. You perked in surprise and gasped, your hand resting on your mouth, he smiled softly as he slowly pulled out a black box. “Y/N L/N, I-”

“Y/N?” Instantly, Thomas stood, stuffing the box back in his pocket and looking in the direction of the voice. You’re head turned around, the smile melting from your face as you stood.

“A-Alexa-”

“What the hell are you doing here with this pompous fool?” Thomas grew angry, but your held your arm up, giving him a pleading look. He relaxed, letting out a gentle sigh and turning around, steaming at how Alexander ruined his proposal. Another to add to the long list of things to hate about Hamilton.

“He’s..I…” You finally let out a sigh, biting your lip. “Thomas is courting me, Alexander.” His eyes shot open, looking between the two of you before grabbing your arm.

“Well that stops now. Come on, I’ll have Eliza talk some sense into you. Jefferson, you know fully well that you don’t deserve her.” Your eyes widened as you looked at Thomas, eyes wide as Alexander pulled you. He gave you a solemn look, but said nothing. Tears stung your eyes as you ripped your arm away from him. He looked back at you before wincing at the look you gave him.

“Alexander, you don’t control my life! I can choose who I want to court. I’ve had a wonderful time with him, he makes me happy, I.. I love him, Alex… Doesn’t that count for anything?” Finally, Alex’s anger melted as he saw tears stream down your face. “I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

“He’s a coward, Y/N…” He defended, but you shook your head.

“There’s so much to him you don’t know…” You closed your eyes and looked down. For a moment there was silence between you to before Alexander spoke up again.

“You… really want to be with him?” He asked. “He makes you happy?” You looked up and nodded, and a sigh escaped him. “Then…I guess it’s fine… I just want you to be happy, Y/N. You’re one of my closest friends.” A smile lined your lips as you hugged him.

“Thank you, he does, he really does.” Instantly, your ran back to the bench, seeing Thomas sitting there, glancing at the box he was planning on presenting to you, his head lowered. You stopped in front of him, and he looked up at you, wide eyed. Before he could speak, you blurted.

“I love you, Thomas, but you’re not the kind of person to let Alexander take me. I’m a little mad.” You said, but the wide smile lining your lips as you glanced at him. He stood, resting a hand on your cheek.

“I didn’t fight him, because it’s true, I don’t deserve you.” You scoffed and pulled him into an embrace, pressing your lips against his. His eyes widened, but he instantly wrapped his arms around you, before pulling away with a goofy grin. “Alright, a moment of weakness, of course I’m good enough for a goddess, I’m Thomas Jefferson.” You rolled your eyes and rested your hand on his chest as you looked up at him.

“That’s the man I fell in love with.” The confident grin melted into a gentle smile, full of love as he drew designs on your spine.

“Marry me…” He said calmly, pulling the ring out of the box and presenting it to you. A smile stretched across your lips as you nodded.

“Of course, Mr. Jefferson.” He laughed and swung you around, kissing you again before setting you down.

“I love you so much, Y/N…” his said in between peppered kisses.

Imagine having a crush on Tauriel for years and finally admitting your feelings to her, only to discover that she had a crush on you too

For Anon :)

A/N: It isn’t star gazing or dancing but i hope you still like it :3

~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes you would catch glimpses of her striding through the palace, the captain of the guard, Tauriel. 

Her auburn hair would dance behind her like wild fire when she moved quick enough, catching your eye and making you gaze at her in awe. Even by elven standards she struck most as mesmerising and you definitely agreed.

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Mismatched Shoes

Anonymous asked: prompt 106 with Lafayette?

A/N: This is my first request, and my ask box IS open! You should totally go ahead and send in those requests. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) My prompts list is here. My masterlist is here. My ask box is here

Prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.”

Word Count: 1372

TW: Just a wee bit of smut implied at the end

AU: Modern ((I’m sorry))

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader


The sun was just setting on the horizon when you finally reached their house. Although there were tears streaming down your face, the different tones and hues of the painting in the sky brought a sense of peace to you. You paused before stepping onto the porch, taking in the sunset once more, then finally knocked on the door.

There was a lot of shuffling and shouting before the door finally opened. Lafayette was standing there, his usual beautiful and pearly smile on his face. Just the man you wanted to see.

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Late Night Chat (TOP Scenario) - Part 2

Look, I did a thing and finished part two of this (very) improvised and spontaneous scenario ^^ Haha. This second part was written without a draft as well, which was kind of fun, to be honest. I hope you’ll like this second (and final) part of this now two-part series, people. Enjoy~

Summary: A late night chat might finally allow for some progress to happen in your relationship with him. The two of you have obviously never been just friends, so maybe tonight can finally help with making that clear.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

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Jake Virtanen #2.2

This is the second and final part of the second Jake Virtanen drabble found here. :) Seeing that the prompt really only requested up until this point. I hope you like this one! :) And happy new year everyone. May 2017 treat you better.

Word count: 1, 122

Originally posted by gauncer

You tried to blink him away, you really did, like he was just a figment of your imagination, but after the fourth bat of your eyes, you opened them to realize that Jake Virtanen, not-an-official ex boyfriend is still there. He was holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flower looking so hopeful and pleased to see you that you just had to ask,

“Are you lost?”

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Valentine's Day

Sequel to this fic

Because I am a horrible, ungrateful person, I asked for sequel prompts but didn’t use them. Sorry.

James Potter blinked as something small hit him on the forehead.

He looked up to find Remus, turning his back to the front to raise his eyebrows at him. He looked down to find that what had beemn thrown at him was a small piece of rolled up paper. Several others littered his desk- either Remus had shite aim or James really was out of it.

“You’re muttering again,” Sirius whispered by way of explanation beside him, a smirk evident in his voice.

James ignored him. “Does deer rhyme with rear?”

Professor McGonagall turned, exasperated, lowering her textbook. “I sincerely hope that poem isn’t a Valentine, Mr. Potter. Yes, it does, but I’m sure there are other options.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Just open your book to page 284 like everyone else, please, Mr. Potter.”

“Sorry.”

Sirius snickered, earning a stomp on his toes.

-

It was Valentine’s Day, 1977, and James was avoiding Lily Evans.

It had all started with a Grand Romantic Plan by Peter, which really just shows how desperate James was getting. He had wound up writing a half-arsed poem he had no intention of actually showing to Evans, and had accidentally dropped it in front of her the week before. Which, naturally, led a panicked James to blurt that he would, in fact, have the final draft ready for Valentine’s day. Idiot.

James was definitely not done yet, and even if he was, one look at Evans would just reinforce the fact that a measly poem could not do her justice, and he was freaking out enough as it was. And so, he was taking every other possible route to each class, even risking that one staircase on the east side that was rumored to have swallowed a kid.

Reaching Transfiguration at the very last minute, James slid into his usual seat, three rows across from Evans. Opening his book to a random page, he pulled out the tattered piece of parchment from his pocket.

A positively gross event, you’d roll your eyes and say

And I’d agree, most Valentine’s, just maybe not today.

He liked it enough up until then.

Because you see, dear Lily, insufferable as you are,

Was insufferable rude? She always called him that. But what if she got offended when it came from him? Should he risk it?

I, uh, don’t know, really- be my Valentine if you dare?

The whole line needed to change. You’re really kind of beautiful… I want to kiss your face? Creepy. Not to mention the fact that are and face do not rhyme, no matter what angle you look at it from. …the prettiest by far? No, that was just wrong. …I admire you from afar?

I admire thee from afar?

I admire you from afar.

Fuck it, it wasn’t going to get any better than that.

James glanced over at Lily, who seemed absorbed in her work. He could just stop her after class, give her the poem, maybe wait for her horrified response, and hide away in his dorm, devastated, while the rest of the year went to some god-awful secret Valentine’s day party in one of the towers.

Yeah, he could do that.

James waited restlessly until the end of class, letting the other students go through the door first as he slowly and deliberately put his books back into his bag. He watched as Lily asked the teacher about extra credits, and seeing her thank him and exit the classroom, followed her out.

“Evans!” James called.

Lily kept walking.

“Wait. Lily!”

She paused, slowly turning around to face him.

“Oh,” she said indifferently, “I didn’t see you there.”

She lowered her eyes to her wrist, which James had grabbed on impulse, and raised an eyebrow as he dropped it like a hot coal. Her eyes come back up, the brilliant green locking with his, and James didn’t know what to say.

What he did know was that he wasn’t going to give her that terrible poem.

There was a silence as Lily’s other brow joined her first.

“The poem…”

“No, it’s okay,” Lily interrupted. “I’d forgotten all about it. No worries.”

“What? No-”

“Of course not. Whatever. I’m going back to my room to, um, finish my Potions essay.”

“You handed that in today,” James pointed out.

“Runes essay, then.” She turned.

James had to do something, and although he knew that that something was a bad idea, he slipped the poem into her hand.

She turned back around, and was silent as her eyes moved across the slip. James, feeling distinctly sick, shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“Awful,” Lily said finally. “Worse than the first.”

James could do nothing but shrug. “At least it rhymes?”

Lily looked at him, almost incredulously, and James was just accepting the fact that he had fucked up royally and that she would never like him, what was he even thinking, when-

Lily stepped up to him, wrapped a hand around the nape of his neck, and he stumbled forward.

Lily Evans’s lips, he found, was soft as velvet. Her hair smelled like apricots. Because you see, dear Lily, insufferable as you are… when you sigh, it’s like nothing could ever be bad again. When you smile against my mouth, I feel like throwing up butterflies and rainbows. You’re the best, the very best thing, that’s happened to me so far.

James broke away, eyes wide.

“Merlin, that’s what it took!?”

“Sorry?” Lily frowned, biting her lip.

“I got it. I got the poem. I’ll give it to you tomorrow. I gotta go.” James picked up his bag, repeating it over under his breath to make sure he didn’t forget it. With a quick grin at her, James hurried back to his dorm.

Lily watched him go, shaking her head. Touching a fingertip to her bottom lip, she smiled.

3

Title: Three Days Ago - part two
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, y’all!), a little angst some strong language
Word Count: 2228 words
Summary: Second part of the Three Days Ago series. You got captured by a Wendigo, three days prior. Dean feared for your life, but has found you in time. Back at the motel you have trouble coping with the horrific events you survived and the confusing thoughts it has triggered, causing you to close yourself off from Dean, but ultimately he finds a way to breach your walls and is there for you.
Author’s Note: Good news everyone! I have my new MacBook. Good news for me because writing will be going so much faster and good news for you because now I can finally post on Tumblr again! I hope you like the second part of Three Days Ago, enjoy :)

Read the first part of Three Days Ago here!


It’s way past midnight when you entered the motel room that you share with Dean. Sore and drained you dragged your feet to the bathroom, muddling to him that you needed a long shower after which you closed the door behind you and turned the faucet before stripping yourself from your dirty clothes. Now, with the shower running, spreading steam through the small space, you were staring at your reflection in the mirror. Moist starts to build on the glass, but you don’t need a clear vision to detect the dark circles under your eyes, the dirt on your skin and the blood in your hair.

Holy shit, you look like a stack of train wrecks.

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In the Cage

Shortly after Animan came out, I wrote a draft of a djwifi fic to fill in what happened to Alya and Nino in the cage while Ladybug and Cat Noir were fighting the akuma. I wasn’t really planning to finish it, but after reading all of thelastpilot‘s Nino-centric fics, I couldn’t resist! So, I guess this is dedicated to you, @thelastpilot​! I hope you like it!

EDIT: Now on AO3 as well! 

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Title: Angel on the Moon
Pairing: Aokise
Genre: Fluff/Angst (with a Happy Ending)
Rating: PG
Summary: He should have said “I love you.” Instead he said, “I’m leaving.”

As always, all aokise I write is for Atsu. Very loosely inspired by this song.

“I love you, Aominecchi.”

Aomine froze. He stared at the top of the Kise’s head, memorizing the way the part split his hair and the way the sun caught in those silky blond strands. The last thing he’d expected when he called Kise to meet him at the park was a confession. He expected some tears, maybe a hug, or even a kiss on the cheek (or the lips, if he was lucky). 

He had never been good at expressing his feelings, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that he loved Kise Ryouta. He knew it from it the moment he’d felt that rush of adrenaline the first time he’d played the blond in a one-on-one match. He knew it in that smile, the way it made those eyes sparkle so bright they rivaled the stars. He knew it in that laugh, the way it brought out the smiles he’d thought he’d lost to teenage angst. He wasn’t sure how to define their relationship, but he’d never cared for labels in the first place. He found comfort in the familiarity of the blond and Kise relished the time he got to spend with the only man he’d ever idolized. 

He loved Kise, but he didn’t know how to say it.

“Aominecchi?”

He jumped. How long was I staring? The silence must have been nerve wracking. He saw the way Kise sucked on his bottom lip and knew he was thinking the worst. The ace was in no better position. He had to find the right way to say it, if he could say it at all. 

“I–" love you. "I’m going to America.” He pulled in a sharp breath before continuing. “I got into that training camp I told you about. You know, the one that potentially prepares you for the NBA. Well, I got in and I accepted, so I’m leaving next week.”

Kise stared at him. His eyes glossed over and Aomine knew he was about to cry. He tried for a smile, but that light never quite reached his eyes. “Ah… that’s great!”

Aomine paused. There was something off. If anyone knew Kise best, it was him. “Ryouta, are you–”

“That’s just wonderful! Aominecchi gets to follow his dream! Wouldn’t it be so great if you got drafted? What team would you wanna be on? I really like the colors of–”

“Ryouta, what’s up? You’re rambling."v

"I… I’m just really happy for Aominecchi.” He wiped away the tears that started to fall. “You get to go across the ocean and see new things and meet new people. Maybe you’ll meet that special someone over there." 

A dark brow rose in confusion and he shook his head. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ryouta. Look… I wanted you to be the first to know cause, well, you’re my best friend.”

“I’m glad you told me.” There was that smile again. “Maybe we can have a match one last time before you go?”

“One last time?”

Kise grabbed his hand in a grip so tight. “I’m so proud of Aominecchi!”

“Ryouta… hey… would you wanna maybe come to the airport to see me off?”

“I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m too emotional.” He laughed, but the sound was so hollow it made Aomine flinch. “And I’m not good with goodbyes. Anyway, I think I’m gonna get going.” He pushed himself off the bench and released the ace’s hand so suddenly it fell onto the bench with a dull thud. “I’ll see you before you go.” He waved a goodbye and disappeared into the crowd. Aomine hadn’t received that hug he’d been expecting, or that kiss, cheek or otherwise. 

Kise had always been the only one who could come close to reading his mind. Yet it appeared that this time he hadn’t and it was only then that Aomine realized he hadn’t said the words out loud.

But… 

“I love you, Ryouta." 

The blond didn’t hear him. He was already gone.

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Her biggest weakness

As far as her friends were concerned, Kara had only one true weakness: kryptonite. Maybe Alex would add sprinkled doughnuts to the list (and pizza and ice cream) but what no one knew was that Cat Grant made Kara’s knees feel like jelly. Everytime she came out of her private elevator with her fast, determined strutt, Kara’s mouth went dry and some nether region of her body got wet. For her, the woman was like a walking sex Goddess, and she was at her complete mercy, sneaking glances at tight pencil skirts that accentuated her ass and low cut shirts that showed the perfect amount of cleavage.

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Upside Down ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

Hijikata only means to stop by the apartment for a moment, just to pick up something he’d forgotten, but that’s… not what happens.

“Where’re my cigarettes?” Hijikata calls as soon as he enters — the door had been unlocked, as it always is.

“Here on the kotatsu!” Gintoki calls back. “Exactly where you left them, asshole.”

Hijikata enters the living room and finds Gintoki on his back with a Jump in hand. It’s not anything he hasn’t seen before and it’s not something he should even be thinking twice about, but he still pauses. They’ve been together how many months? And how many of those months have the kids, the Shinsengumi, and the rest of the godforsaken world known about them? Yet, still, Hijikata finds himself pausing at the sight of something so simple and familiar that his fingers twitch at his sides.

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Love And Evasive Action - Part Eleven

oh hi.

This is an AU fanfiction. Everything is a lie. All previous parts can be found on my fanfic page. hartbigguyz is my lovely beta, and this time I decided to actually use her mistake spots, rather than just breezing over her email and posting anyway (oopth).

I hope you are all enjoying. Thank you for reading :)

Chapter Eleven

It’s strange, how quickly a routine can be found, in even the most altered of settings. By the time Hannah wakes up, one lazy Sunday morning, she realizes that she doesn’t actually know for how many weeks she has been waking up in this bed now. It’s no longer a strange bed, it is just her bed. And it is only after padding to the calendar that she keeps on the wall can she calculate for just how long she’s been on English soil.

Hannah feels a bit of a mess, all sleepy and scruffy, but it is Sunday, and she is allowed that at least. She fills the kettle and flips it on, before rubbing a hand over her face and pulling her phone out of her hoodie.

Hannah hasn’t contacted Grace this weekend. And sure, that isn’t much, considering it is only just over a day since they were sharing lunch together, but Hannah has made a small, unconscious decision to not be the one to contact Grace first. Just to see.

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Story of Another Us

Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: She’s just as he remembered. (RE: sort of a past lives AU.)
Words: 1,905
Warnings: language i think
Notes: this Nonsense was written in like ten minutes and i was listening to Story of Another Us and i was procrastinating okay bye


Originally posted by uuuhshiny


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Bathtime

Killian has a new place. With a bathtub…
Unashamedly inspired by ‘the video’ and this gif set.
Also on AO3

The new place he had rented was only a short walk from the loft, one of four small apartments that resided in a three story building with a faded wooden facade and ancient windows that desperately needed polishing. Not much more than a large room with a basic kitchenette fighting for space with a loveseat and divan bed; then as almost an afterthought, a small bathroom tucked into one corner. No shower, just one of those old enamel tubs that took forever to warm up.

But it was something, he’d said. A place to lay his head.

(More permanent, was the message laced between the words.

He’s staying, she’d realized.)

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The Duel: A HoriKashi ficlet

(Slight spoilers for episode 10 of Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun)

Masayuki Hori had become alarmingly good at ignoring Yuu Kashima’s spontaneous, ever-changing moods, but even he couldn’t resist noticing that she was unusually quiet after rehearsal with Mikorin. Her usual pout made her bottom lip stick out and her shoulders hunched inward on her lanky frame when she was being childish. Hori’s brown eyes noted the flat line of her mouth, the wrinkle in her brow, and the lack of eye contact she made with her fangirls after politely declining their invitation to take her to supper. Something was up.

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~ Creepy anonymous submission ~

I am currently in my last year at boarding school. The place really isn’t creepy or old fashioned, and I hadn’t heard of others my age telling silly creepy stories about it as you may expect from somewhere with such history. But after this happened to me, I now assume it’s because no one wants to relive or cheapen experiences they may have actually had at the school, although I’ve never dared to ask about specific paranormal experiences.
I’ve only been at the school for two years, and will be leaving in June. There is a lower school, for first and second formers (11-13 year olds), which is detached from the rest of the school by a main road, accessible by a zebra crossing. I had never been to the lower school, apart from this one time.
For English, we had to go over to the lower school to talk to these kids about verbs, nouns, etc for our and their revision. Before we went back to the main school when we had finished, I had to go to the toilet. Because some of the buildings had been rebuilt, my friend who had been at the school since first form took me to the toilet in one of the girls’ boarding houses which was quicker than finding our way around a building neither of us were familiar with. I went into the toilets on the bottom floor, and she waited outside. It had two cubicles, and as I entered I noticed a little kid at the sink. It was the kind of passing situation in which you don’t acknowledge a person’s existence audibly, but you know they are there. It’s the kind of knowledge you get that a person is next to you, even though you don’t directly look at them, but you know for a fact they are in a room with you. The girl, who must have been eleven or twelve, was wearing the uniform, so naturally I assumed she was just a kid at the school. I mean, why on earth wouldn’t I?
Now, the cubicle I was in was right next to the heavy door to leave, which would have creaked if opened. It certainly didn’t. In fact, it even crossed my mind as to why the girl had been standing at the sink for so long barely making any noise other than turning the tap on and off slowly and repetitively as I was in the cubicle. As I got myself together and left the cubicle, I was completely expecting to see her; I was even planning to make sure she was okay, considering she was in the boarding house during lesson time, but the tap was off, and the girl wasn’t there. I checked the other cubicle, and again she wasn’t there. Honestly, I had never been so confused. I began questioning if she was even there in the first place. But I had seen her, even if I hadn’t looked at her directly. And I had heard her turn the tap while I was on the toilet. It really messed with my head, but of course I brushed it off very quickly, as is my way of dealing with such occurrences. I even asked my friend who had been waiting outside if anyone had left. She said no, so I quickly accepted the fact that I had imagined her being there in fear of what she may have actually been.
That was around when I was quite new to the school, so over a year ago. I had happily pushed the event from my mind, because, in the grand scheme of things, it was only possible that I had imagined her.
I tell this story now, after so long after, and believing it hadn’t happened, because I was told something that changed the context of my experience about a week ago.
Some friends and I had decided to visit a café after school, because we didn’t share any classes any more, and rarely had the chance to talk. We were talking about memories we’d had at the school, as we are so close to leaving, and they recounted a number of stories from when they were in the lower school, as all of them had been at the school since first form. They were joking about how there was a haunted room on the top floor of their boarding house, but the only reason they believed that was because a draft would sometimes move the door, and about how silly they were for believing that it was supernatural. Then, amid the laughter, one friend says “Well what about the room on the bottom floor?” The others weren’t completely put down solemnly because of her input, but I could certainly see a change of mood at the table. They tried to move past the subject, but I insisted. They explained that the year before they had started at the school, there had been an accident. A girl in first form had been walking across the zebra crossing to class when she dropped some change on the road. She ran back onto the road to pick it up, but a car was coming towards her and she had died on the spot. No one really knew her, because it was only during the first term of the school year. Her parents never picked up her teddies and clothes from the school, so most were given to charity. But some of her stuff was kept in her old dorm in memory of her, with pictures and letters. Of course, no one ever went into the room, because it must have been a little weird, but the dorm is still there, on the bottom floor of the girls’ boarding house.
I must admit, I found the story a little jarring. I had never been told that story before, and even when I was told, I had to insist. Clearly it was a touchy subject, and even I found it upsetting.
It actually took a while for me to recognise a link between the upsetting story and my experience. But the descriptors match of her appearance and age. I haven’t heard anyone else tell paranormal stories about the girl, but people get uncomfortable when asked about her. Although I would never tell anyone at school about it, I am certain now that I saw her. I don’t need to push it from my mind any more.