and her colourful words

betsforsythetrash  asked:

Alright Smut Queen, I'm gonna need a continuation of Bugheads make out scene but Betty is turned on by Jugheads new jacket, and maybe she ends up wearing it at some point??

Ok, here it is - the long awaited continuation, I really hope it’s what you wanted. This scene actually ruined me because every time I’m like is this too far??? I just remember what we actually saw and I’m like nope! I’ve sinned, my friends, I’ve sinned.
Warning: so much Bughead smut, all of the smut, a little feeling, but then more smut.

You Build Me Up, Believer

“I love you, Betty Cooper.”

Every inch of her froze, the words echoing in her ears as a silence settled over the trailer. The world felt as if it moved in slow motion as she turned to look at him. His beanie had been thrown casually to the side, leaving his dark, untamed waves ruffled and free. His shoulders were hunched in slightly as if he was braced for impact. But his eyes… Betty had never seen eyes so earnest, so open and giving. 

She took steady, paced out steps towards him, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her features. 

“Jughead Jones,” she whispered, heart racing. “I love you.” She could see the weight lift from his body – she had never felt so light herself, as if this was the last thing that needed to be heard before they could give themselves to one another without interruption, without restraint. Jughead looked almost disbelieving, eyes shining in the dim light. He had never been more thankful for the existence of another human being. 

His hands cupped her cheeks as he bent forwards, kissing her once, twice, letting her know just how grateful he was to have her, to call her his own. She inhaled deeply, pressing her body against the length of his front, fingers placed delicately against his neck. He pulled back to look at her, this beautiful creature in his arms. She was smiling back at him, eyes slightly hooded, lips beginning to swell. He grinned, dipping down to grip her behind and pull her into his arms, revelling in the squeal she let out that rang through the trailer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, steadying herself as she looked down at him, loose, golden waves shrouding them both as they fell over his shoulders. 

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Defence (MET with Reader) Happy 100!

Originally posted by bekadmfb

(( gif not mine - it’s cute wtf ))

(A/n): Honest to god, this came to me at about 1:00am this morning and thought maybe I’d use it as a 100+ FOLLOWER CELEBRATION OML

Summary: The four of you were in a park for another one of Mark’s fan get togethers. While playing a game with the audience, an asshat walks past and says something rude. In retaliation, (Y/n) says some colourful words of her own; standing up for her greatest friends.



Honestly, in some way or another, L.A was bound to be hot. Standing out in an open park didn’t do much for that. Neither did (Y/n)’s shiny (f/c) top.

Though, it was closer to evening than the last time they all were out, making everything just a bit better. The sky was beautiful and just the right temperature that helped everyone relax.

“I don’t understand!” Ethan cried “What is this?!”

“It’s your demise!” (Y/n) called back cockily, jumping around on the grass.

It made the crowd giggle; bringing a chain reaction of (Y/n) smiling back at them.

“What!!?” The blue haired boy spun around and pointed at the people whom were watching you four participate in all sorts of challenges “Don’t laugh! No!”

But they only laughed more, this time joined by (Y/n), Tyler and tied together with Mark’s own deep chuckle.

“Alright, It’s simple Ethan, gosh.” Mark confirmed and took in a large breath “You fucking climb up Tyler and sit on his shoulders and (Y/n) will be on mine and you two will FIGHT to the death! Whomever gets pushed from the others shoulders first, loses!” he finished, sputtering out his breath.

“I feel cheated, because Mark might kick me.” Tyler whined.

(Y/n) laughed with the crowd “Well, I feel cheated because Mark is short.” they said.

“Okay, whatever.” the brunette called “Just get on my shoulders, dick sucker.”

So enough, both Ethan and (Y/n) got into position and the audience began to count down.


“I don’t feel safe.” (Y/n) commented as Mark wobbled slightly.


“I feel I need an adult…” Ethan demanded. His hands were in a death grip on Tyler’s shoulders.


“Wait, where will we lan–!” (Y/n) began to ask, only shortly cut off by not the crowd, but instead by a lone voice.

“This looks like a waste of daylight, how fucking gay.” they snickered “Fags.”

Everyone dropped to a deathly silence.

The crowd started to ‘boo’ quietly and mumble among themselves. (Y/n) was the first to actually break the quiet air.

“Who the hell was that?” (Y/n) snapped, twisting a bit to jump down from Mark’s shoulders. He was careful to let them down lightly.

“The pack whore defends them. That’s rich.”

They were able to single out a man behind of the grouped fans. He was actually across the road.

“HEY! FUCK YOU!” (Y/n) started.

Tyler’s face instantly looked concerned as he looked to Mark. Though, Ethan was never present for any of the youtuber’s angry outbursts before; he was already taken aback.

“AT LEAST THEY’RE DOING SOME FUCKING GOOD.” They continued. (Y/n)’s voice seemed to shake with resentment, gaining in volume by the second “THE ONLY THING YOU HAVE TO SHOW FOR IS HOW NOT-VALUABLE YOU ARE TO SOCIETY.

The people cheered for (Y/n).

Everyone present was either looking at the delivery of (Y/n)’s speech or the man across the street looking scattered.


People who were passing by on their own business began to stare. Impressed, Mark still decided they’ve done enough.

(Y/n)’s posture showed their obvious readiness to fight. They began to get antsy and took a step forward.

From there Mark was quick to step up to them and lace their arms behind their back. Using one hand to hold them tight to (Y/n)’s back and the other to solidly cover their mouth.

(Y/n) jumped and twitched in his grip, yells now muffled into his hand.

Tyler put himself in front of the two, effectively blocking (Y/n)’s view. All the while, the crowd cheered brilliantly. Ethan encouraged them with screams of his own.

The unknown man now admittedly frightened, took this his chance to flee. The fans changing to ‘boo’ him off.

Slowly afterwards, (Y/n) calmed enough for Mark to uncover their mouth.

“Sorry…” they apologized simply.

Mark released their arms as well.

Ethan didn’t waste time taking a running start to hug them greatly.

“Thank you!” he laughed.

Once more, everyone collectively cheered. Everyone ran to hug (Y/n). Mark, Tyler, everyone.

They couldn’t help but let a hearty laugh slip their pale lips.

Once all of them parted again, (Y/n) was beaming brightly.

“Thank you,” Ethan repeated “You have fucking balls.” he laughed along with everyone else.

“Well sometimes I have to defend my people,” (Y/n) responded, a silly tone prominent behind her words “right!?”

The cheers were as loud as they could have ever been. No one would surely be forgetting this soon, it would be all over youtube in a matter of hours. But, all that mattered right now, was getting back to the challenge and having themselves a good time.



But, in other words. This was a small something I put into place for this occasion and I love it. Also, as of now, I don’t have any requests; so don’t shy from sending one of your own.

5x05 Review-Part B

Oh boi this is probably going to be my biggest cophine analysis? Yeah something like that..

Well.. you have been warned


So first things first, I want to be honest: this episode scared me before the screening.I knew from the beginning that it’s going to  be a lose-win situation.Like any episode-ship or storyline based-that is highly anticipated, there’s always the chance of underwhelming yourself because of high expectations or overexposure. I tried to be nonchalant about it but the whole excitement  and positive vibes didn’t help at all to balance my emotions..still, i can’t quite believe  that this episode was THAT good.

Cosima and Delphine were emotional, sensual, and so very desperate.Part B of my review is totally dedicated to this beautifully flawed ship.

(ps.the screencaps are mine, tho the gifs are not mine,  if there’s a problem in reposting for review-explainer purposes,don’t hesitate to msg me guys i would wholeheartedly  respect it and delete them if you want to :) )


Cos just told Del that she’s sick.I heard a lot of people saying that they found the make out scene a tiny bit awkward and anticlimatic. Well imo it  should ‘ve been exactly like that.Think about it.

Cos just learned that she’s intellectual property and she’s basically owned ( tbh i think she knew something like that was coming from the moment she learned she was a clone). She’s shocked and confused and totally freaking out. In addition to all of this came the knowledge of her sickness, a sickness  she knew  too well how it was gonna end.

Delphine reacts instinctively in Cos’s desperation and tries to comfort her in every way she knows.She gives promises she’s totally willing to pay (even if she doesn’t understand the weight of them at the moment) and pours out her heart.

Her love is palpable even if she doesn’t say it. It’s too early and everything happens so fast for them to cope.For Del, nothing matters more  than Cosima’s well-being.And she doesn’t even know why.Why would she help a girl she barely knows?Why risk her job,her life for a charming stranger?Is this rare,undefined, chemical thing that connects us,  enough to alter our everyday life?Is intuition only good enough when everything else falls apart?

Delphine is one of the brave ones.

They don’t own you.

Not your integrity, she says.

Not your  intellect.

Not your humor.

Delphine really fights for Cosima. She swallows her own worries and fears, giving  her own body as a shelter, engulfing her, protecting her, if only for the night.

Ands that’s what makes Cosima come undone.


Helen Shaver’s directing style was really, magical. Totally fitting and capable of capturing a whole spectrum of feelings. From sadness, to doubt, to arousal. In a couple of seconds everything came out perfectly.The narration and  raw cuts were spot on. I loved the fact that it took a little time for Cosima to be in the moment.It felt real, natural and authentic.

Shaver’s directional choice was very interesting if you think it’s a dreamy/ subconscious memory from Cos when she’s sleeping/dozing off .Other than the main argument of cophine (you were paid to lie to me) everything else was not in sequential order. Delphine kissing her neck, hugging her, whispering to her. Everything feels out of focus and it’s like this scene is shot from Cosima’s POV. Exactly like a dream or a fainted thought with no beginning or end.

This scene.So small and unfortunately so underrated .No more than 4 seconds yet, it captured the feeling perfectly.

A bizzare feeling of happiness - totally unmatching with no coherence or  relevance to the previous scenes and still in a peculiar way, overly perfect. Oxymoron.Sadness, euphoria, arousal, all dancing together. It probably wasn’t even scripted and it’s pure Tat and Ebro working their magic.

Delphine’s face depicts so many emotions.Cosima simply mesmerizes her.Fascinates her.It’s just the way it is.Completely natural.

And then the moment we died:

Defy them.

Live your life with every ounce of passion that I know you have. They’ll never own you.

Probably the best quote out of 5x05.Sensual,defiant, rebellious.

At this moment i would like to post a quote of  Lisa Weidenfeld in regards to them:

“These two have lied to each other for the entire duration of the show, and their connection has proven to be something that overturned both their lives, often for the worse. The flashback to Cosima’s initial discovery of her patented genes, and her admission of her illness to Dephine (who is the first person she tells) also provides a glimpse into why she’s stuck with this thing so long. The bond is tied up in a heady cocktail of sex and love and rebellion and the person who was there for her at what was probably the worst moment of her life. Who wouldn’t get hooked on that?

-AV Club

really, really loved everything about this.Cosima’s worst life experience was in lockstep with her most beloved person.What a contradiction.

after Delphine’s motivational speech Cosima got hooked. I mean just look at her face.

yeah yeah i know, she’s indeed very much aroused but it’s not just that. Cosima melts for affirmation.Wants and needs desperately Delphine’s words to keep it together. Cosima has the sassy tongue and clever remarks but Delphine’s words are wild,colourful and disarming.Her mouth is her most dangerous asset.

should at this point say a big effing THANK YOU to Tatiana and Evelyne?

Cause they really did their fucking best and it showed.All i ever wanted from this episode was to feel that Cosima finally accepted Delphine and reciprocated her feelings.Body language was fucking inconceivable like WOAH DUDE! mad respect for the whole team.


Finally.At fucking last.Case closed.They wraped this whole “i can’t trust you” chaos.It was about bloody time.

After a whole lot of a time Cos and Del talked about their issues.Admitted their faults.Made peace with eachother

-I push too hard

-you do things without my consent

This is what they do.

Listen.The first step for a healthy relationship is to accept your faults.And that’s exactly what they did.Under those dreadful  circumstances they made a huge step forward.

They re-evaluated their faith and trust in each other.

Cosima accepted the fact that, no matter what, Delphine’s sole purpose is to keep Cosima safe.She is willing to do whatever it takes. Lie,  lose contact, kill or even be killed.She prefered to be the ‘bad guy’ and broke up with Cos just to keep her damn promise.It needs guts to do something like that.

Delphine  on the other hand has accepted the recklessness of Cosima. She knows that until this whole thing is over she’s going to live with the fear of Cosima pushing too far, going in places that she can’t help her escape (* COUGH LOCKED CAGE COUGH COSIMA BABE DEL LITERALLY LEFT FOR 5 MINUTES WHY*)

both are living with the fear of each other’s mortality, but they prefer this than nothing. if love doesn’t teach you endurance i don’t know what does tbh.


I don’t know what else to say.This episode was so fulfilling in regards to Cophine and Cosima.A perfect character centric episode.Let’s see what 5x06 will bring folks.

Again thanks for reading (that was WAY TOO LONG I’M SORRY)

Another autistic drawing. I wanted to draw Dory from Finding Nemo saying it but unfortunately I cant draw fish. So instead here is an autistic girl stimming. She is repeating the words “Just keep stimming” which is an altered version of Dory’s “Just keep swimming” quote. 

[Image Description: Picture is a drawing of an autistic girl with light brown hair, wearing headphones and a red shirt with the neurodiversity symbol on it, as well as a chew necklace.

 She is stimming with echolalia, repeating the words ‘Just keep stimming’. She is also using her headphones to block out overstimulating auditory input, has her eyes closed and is stimming by flapping her hands happily. 

Beneath her is the rainbow coloured neurodiversity symbol, with the words ‘Always Stimming’ inside the loops.] 

livvy blackthorn headcannons

- livvy loves butterscotch and always gets julian to put butterscotch chips into the pancake batter

- shes 107% the type of person to steal other people’s cloths

- bc of this she’s always in ty’s hoodies and dru’s t-shits and kit’s socks and emma’s jeans 

- and cristina is no exception she always takes her sundresses

- she goes surfing with julian

- she’ll often drag kit and ty out to the beach at insane times like 11:30 pm or 6 am

- she and ty train kit

- she loves stretching and is as flexible and strong as a ballet dancer which makes her a 11/10 shadowhunter

- she can’t sleep unless she’s listening to music

- she goes vintage/thrift shopping all the time with emma (and sometimes cristina)

- she’s constantly taking pictures of her siblings

- she loves watching horror movies with dru

- especially the super old ones with crap cgi

- she just laughs and makes sarcastic comments about the horrible fake-gore and special effects

- which makes dru laugh harder than anyone can

- she has a tumblr and spends 90% of her time on her computer on there

- she loves to make little bets with kit

juat random little $1 bets about literally anything

- “kit, i bet you that when julain comes out of his studio he’s gonna be covered in paint” “depends on the colour” “blues and golds” “deal”

- and kit usually looses them 

- and at one point he owed livvy almost $30

- livvy loves makeup and watching makeup tutorials and stuff

- she often takes little trips to in n out at 3 am with emma

- she’s basically addicted to in n out, coffee bean, and will 10/10 drive to the ie for a burrito from baker’s

- she also loves mexican food and always convinces cristina and diego and jamie to make it

- she’s constantly trying to set up kit and ty and in the most obvious ways and everyone knows it

-”livvy, i need your help with this thing” “get your boyfriend to do it”

- she once tried to teach kit some computer programming stuff and it did not go well

- “kit i’ve showed you how to do this five times already" “sorry”

- she’s can’t spell for the life of her

-she’s most definitely the mom friend

-when she was little, she used to insist she be called “olivia” because she thought livia sounded strange

- until ty made her research the origin of her name and she learned how bomb livia drusilla was and she after that moment she was never called olivia again

- she braids emma’s hair

- she’s basically the clumsiest person alive

- she’s always knocking stuff over and tripping on thin air

- she is addicted to hot chocolate

- even if it’s ,like, the dead of summer

- her favourite colour is grey, and she loves ty’s eyes

- her favourite word is lackadaisical and she uses it as an insult all the time

feel free to add more! i might do more of these for other characters

title: One-Ply Promises

rating: t

pairing: Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia

summary: Of all of the stupid shit Lucy has done while drunk, entering a contract with a demon probably takes the cake. The icing on said cake, however, is the fact that neither of the two know what the terms of the contract are. Until they figure it out, Lucy is stuck living with a demon who doesn’t really understand the concept of keeping a low profile.

chapter one: Always Read the Terms and Conditions

ffn link

He has fucking horns.

“Hi.” The horned man is sitting on her desk and moving his legs back and forth as if he’s on a swing and not very cheap, breakable material. “I’m looking for someone.”

Lucy points towards the door. She is beyond hungover right now, and frankly, cosplayers hanging out in her room at - she checks her phone - nine in the fucking morning doesn’t begin to make her list of the top ten weirdest things to have gone down in res. It doesn’t even make her top fifty, really.

“You know who Lucy Heartfilia is?” Horned-man asks.

Should she call the cops? Probably. Is she going to? Probably not. Lucy bobs her head (bad move, bad move, gravity doubles down for a solid ten seconds what the fuck, physics-) and waves at her face listlessly. Horned-man brightens. The blonde feels her stomach roil in response. Ugh. It’s way too early to be that chipper for anyone.

“Hi! I’m E.N.D., but you can call me Natsu! I’m a demon. You made a contract with me last night.” He hops down and fishes around in his pocket as he walks towards her bed, retrieving a neatly folded square of toilet paper which he holds out to her. She squints. She can make out her signature but the rest looks a lot like her lecture notes when she’s doing them half asleep. Definitely her writing and definitely illegible.

“I was directed to this room after you signed it and then you showed up later, but you know how drunk people are; you could have been anyone just looking for an empty room to crash! So I had to wait to confirm,” he explains. “Now, do you remember what the terms of the contract are? Because I can’t read what you’ve written.”

Lucy can’t even remember the word for the colour of her walls at the moment, but she can’t vocalize that quip thanks to the desert that has made its home in her mouth. She settles for a thumbs down. Horned-man (Naruto? She swears it’s Naruto) laughs nervously. “We, uh, might have a problem.”

Besides the fact that I’ve somehow made a contract with a demon? Wait, what? Demon? Whoa, back up. Demon. Like, actual demon ohmygod what-

“I can’t get back to Hell until I fulfill the terms of this contract.”

Oh, hell.

“I’m gonna be stuck here with you,” he says. “So, uh. Hi?”

Lucy opens her mouth and her stomach decides that right then is the perfect time to empty itself all over Naruto-demon-dude’s white pants. Because what better way to greet her new roommate than with nacho-and-martini flavoured upchuck?

A RobRae college student/TA AU! :D I finally got around to writing for this ship after wanting to for so long. I guess I get oddly inspired at 2:30AM. Anyways, Dick is based more on his comic version than cartoon version (because I prefer him that way), so yeah. Expect a bit of goofball cuteness. Enjoy!

“I’m going to fight this,” she seethed through gritted teeth, slamming the file of papers angrily against the desk. “There’s no way in hell he can give me this grade and get away with it!”

To say that she was fuming would be an understatement.

Raven was on the dangerous path to murder. Her hands were shaking from the fury of the emotion.

A comforting hand was then suddenly on her shoulder, steadying her, and bringing her back to a semblance of reality. Leave it to Kory to remind Raven that homocide, no matter how tempting, was never a viable option.

“I know that English is your favourite course, but Raven, arguing with the TA isn’t always the best idea,” Kory warned her softly, not unsympathetic to her plight.

Raven was shaking with rage. It was all she could do not to crumple up all her hard work into a ball, and toss it towards the wall. She’d never admit it, but tears burned the backs of her eyes, yet she refused to cry in front of anyone.

He was going to change the grade, and she was going to make him. She wouldn’t leave his office until he did. Kory rubbed her back affectionately, not knowing how else to soothe the distraught girl.

“This is going to ruin my overall grade! This paper is worth over forty-five percent of the final mark, and my GPA will be done for!” Raven snarled, her lips curled back as her jaw clenched.

“I understand,” Kory conceded, running gentle fingers through her best friend’s short, silken hair. “I will go with you, if you like, as moral support.”

Always the enduring best friend, there wasn’t anything the red-haired vixen wouldn’t do for Raven when she needed her most. Especially when it concerned their grades and performance in school. Both of them had a lot riding on scholarships, and to lose any of them would mean a likelihood of dropping out entirely.

So, together, they marched towards the TA’s office, as the room number had been written and highlighted in their course manual, and mentally prepared themselves for a brutal standoff.

With jitters and nerves, they both stood outside the daunting office door, and Raven carefully raised her fist to knock against the wood. She had steeled herself, told herself that she deserved better than this, and she’d even taken to fix her clothes so that she looked the proper part. She would be taken seriously this time around.

“Come in,” came a deep, male voice from the other side.

[The rest is under the cut!]

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anonymous asked:

can we please have more of the minnie and claire as spies au i'm living for it


Either Side of the Line: Part Three:

The sound of a cock crowing pulled Claire from her restless slumber. The babe had been kicking furiously all night, keeping her just on the edge of sleep. Pushing herself out of bed, Claire reached for her robe as she walked morosely towards the kitchen.

The house was strangely silent as she meandered through, peeking her head around various doors as if expecting Minnie to just appear, suitcases packed and ready to go.

Two kitchen maids looked on in shock as Claire rounded the corner, hands rubbing delicately along her extended stomach.

“Mistress,” they both mumbled, curtseying as they continued on with their daily duties.

Something wasn’t right, Claire realised.

Finding the breakfast room set only for one, she held her breath, her brows drawing together as she glanced around the empty room.

One plate.

One steaming mug of tea sat carefully on the ornate mats.

With the sun only just on the rise, Minnie had told Claire to be ready for the off as soon as dawn approached, but with her friend nowhere in sight, an unsettling feeling began to rise beneath Claire’s skin.

Sitting at the table, she poked at the feast in front of her, rolling the meat around her plate as if reorganising it might shed some clarity on the situation.

Something at the back of her mind told her that she was alone here now.

Scraping her chair back against the wooden floor, Claire left the breakfast virtually untouched as she went in search of her shoes.

Rushing out towards the stables, she hoped to find some signs of life somewhere, something to indicate where her partner in crime had scampered off to.

The horses brayed and whinnied as she walked the length of the stalls, poking her head into every box as she searched high and low without much luck. The stable towards the very end of the row, the largest –and the one that *had* housed Minnie’s horse when they had arrived– was empty.

Claire stood for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide, as she glanced into the vacant space.

The straw had been disturbed, vague hoof prints scattered the rough bedding here and there as if the mare had been rushed from her temporary lodgings.

Burying her hands in her skirts, Claire turned and briskly walked from the stables, the bottom of her dress swishing noisily against the ground as she rushed back towards the house.

Minnie was gone.

The servants, at a loss, simply milled around the entrance as Claire stomped back into the property. The head butler wrung his hands nervously as he waited for Claire to say something –but she found she was unable to speak.

“Mistress?” One of the younger girls piped up, her voice tinkling and light as she tried to get Claire’s attention.

With the door now closed behind them, Claire look back and forth between the solid oak frame and the cluster of household staff who had gathered, glancing nervously between their temporary –and heavily pregnant– mistress and back at one another.

“Can we get you something, tea –a bath perhaps?”

Claire shook her head, the shock of her abandonment beginning to wear off.

Just as she was about to answer a loud knock echoed through the noiseless halls, reverberating off the walls and causing the paintings on the closest walls to shake.

“Minnie!” Claire exclaimed, rushing towards the door, her heart picking up pace as she struggled with the doorknob.

Gripping the cool metal, she twisted, the knocking becoming more impassioned with every passing moment.

“Minnie wha-” Claire gasped, the door flying open, its hinges creaking as she took a step back. Watching, Claire viewed the figure with some trepidation as a shadow emerged from the doorway.

Light flickered across the floor, sending rare bolts of gold and illuminating the corridor as the caller revealed themselves, an angry and disappointed look crossing his otherwise soft face.

“Why, Claire?” He asked, a hint of malice in his tone and a glint of betrayal in his eyes, “why did ye do it?”

Sighing, Jamie nuzzled against Claire, wrapping his bare leg against hers as he pulled her as close as he could get her.

“Ye always ken, lass…” he whispered, his voice fading as he rocked his hips against her arse, “how to make me feel good after a hard week.”

He hadn’t seen her for *two* weeks, but she didn’t mention his long absence, choosing instead to slide her hand along the expanse of the back of his thigh, stopping only to grip his bottom –a lustful grab that held him against her as she twisted her head so she could just about see his sleepy face out of the corner of her eye.

He felt so good, his heat coating her in a cloak of warmth. Basking in the afterglow of their intimate reunion, Claire tried not to think about the line she was skirting. All but forgotten, her mission still niggled at the back of her mind, floating to the forefront only during these quiet moments when she really wished it wouldn’t.

Neither her or Minnie had spoken in any great depth about either of their conquests. In fact it seemed that they were both actively avoiding one another.

Since her first meeting with Jamie, Claire had mostly moved into the brothel, striking a deal with the madam who owned the place and the inn below. Jamie had, unknowingly, struck up a similar deal, paying Madame Baudelaire for the privilege of full time access to Claire.

During this time the pair had grown besotted with one another.  

Claire had chosen the path of least resistance. She asked nothing of Jamie other than the company of him in her bed. If he chose to share anything, then she would sit and listen –in silence.

It was unusual, though, for him to open himself up to her.

Today, however, she felt a shift in him. Whether it was the subtle, unconscious change in their relationship –a shift in trust that saw an emotional connection building through their physical one. Instead of the calm that usually surrounded them in the wee hours, Claire sensed a nervous energy in Jamie as he debated internally with himself.

“Murtagh doesna think this wise,” he mumbled, to himself more than to Claire, “maybe I’m foolish…but I dinna care.”

Silence encased them once more as Claire waited for him to pluck up the courage. Acting as though she hadn’t heard his monologue, she slipped her foot between his calves and massaged his skin with her toes. Feeling the prickly hairs that lined his ankles, Claire smiled as she felt his heart pick up pace, the steady beat of it vibrating through her back where his chest lay softly against her.

“I thought dealing wi’ royalty would be hard, aye…” he began, not fully explaining himself before continuing, not waiting for Claire to ask for clarity, “but it’s truly testing my patience.”

Cursing in Gaelic, he took a deep breath and pulled himself from the small cot. Pacing in front of her, he ruffled his hair, turning away so that his hunched back faced Claire.

Pulling the sheet up, Claire covered her breasts and pushed herself up on her elbow.

“I’m a man of my word, ken. But Charles is skirting a line I dinna ken if I can cross.”

“Come back to bed, Jamie.” Claire pleaded, half hoping that he would ignore her request and continue. Finally he was opening himself up to her, giving the information that she was *supposed* to be collecting.

“He’s a fool, Claire. And he’s making a fool o’ us.”


“I’m sae sorry, yer right.” he sighed, his shoulders drooping as he turned back, his mouth downcast. “I dinna know what I was thinking, talking to a hoor…”

Claire’s heart plummeted. Her cheeks flooding with colour as his words hit her square in the chest. Tearing herself from the bed, she pulled her robe from the chair and curled herself into the small seat, holding her knees to her chest as she desperately tried to hold back her tears.

That’s what she was to him. That was *all* she was, she realised.

“Claire,” Jamie began, his anguished haze fading as he noticed the moisture flooding Claire’s eyes. He watched as she closed herself off from him, folding herself inwards as she tried to shrink away. “I shouldna–”

“No,” she interjected, her tone harsh, “you’re right. You shouldn’t tell me anything, Mr Fraser. This is a business arrangement after all, and I *am* a prostitute.”

Twisting her head away, Claire moved so that she could no longer see Jamie, her ribs cracking –metaphorically– under the pressure of the truth he’d so callously leveled at her. In her head she knew that she wasn’t a whore, but the vocalisation of the position which she’d put herself in suddenly made her feel incredibly filthy. The dirt clung to her skin, making Claire feel as though she hadn’t washed in weeks.

Jamie, his mind in just as many pieces as Claire’s, moved silently behind her. Reaching his fingers out to twist in a loose lock of her hair as he tried to bridge the gap he’d forced between them.

“Mo nighean donn…” he whispered, his voice wavering as he caught a glimpse of Claire’s damp cheeks.

“W-what does that mean?” Claire returned, sadness lacing her tone as she tried to hold herself together.

“My brown haired lass.”

His translation soothed her aching wounds, extinguishing the flames that licked at her battered soul. “Brown? A dull colour, I’ve always thought.”

“Nah,” Jamie replied, spurred on by her responsiveness. Growing more confident, he moved his fingers down her neck, sweeping them gently over her skin. “No’ dull at all. It’s like the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks…”

“You don’t need to sweet-talk me, Jamie,” Claire breathed, the air catching in her throat as she turned to face him once more, “we both know what this is. What it is between you and I.”

“Nay, Claire. I shouldna have disrespected you so.”

Gathering her clothes from the floor, Jamie turned the chair around, using all of his strength to get her to face him.

Her eyes were rimmed pink, her nose tinted red from where she’d been crying. His heart shattered as he carefully dressed her.

Claire sat and let him do as he pleased, her chest hollow as she focused on his large hands against her. He was so gentle with her, his fingers brushed so finely against her as he tied the laces of her corset.

She didn’t even question him as he slid his hands under her knees and cradled her against his chest.

They left the brothel in silence, Claire’s head laid against Jamie’s collarbone. For now she just wanted to lose herself in him, so much so that she didn’t even ask where he was taking her –she simply let him take her.

It was only as the carriage he’d placed her in took a particularly hard corner, her head bobbing harshly against the velvet headrest, that she came round enough to realise that they were no longer in her quarters.

“Where are you taking me?” She finally asked, her tone showing only a slight interest.

“To my home, Claire.” Jamie replied, his lips twitching into an almost smile as the horse came to a stop outside a particularly elegant property in one of the nicer areas of Paris.

“Do you like it?” Jamie perked up, seeing a look of wonder cross Claire’s face.

“It’s very –regal, Jamie.” She replied, energy coursing through her veins once more. “Are you sure you want me here?”

Scoffing, Jamie took her by the hand, leading her carefully from the small carriage and escorting her to the ornate front door. “Dinna be soft, Claire. O’ course I want ye here. You dinna ken how much I’ve wanted to see you in my home…in my bed.” He whispered the last one into her ear as he nipped at her lobe.

Claire giggled, letting her morse mood melt away, Jamie’s playfulness infecting her.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Jamie led her through the long dining room and up the spiral staircase, pointing out rooms as they went.

“Do ye like it?” He asked, a coy smiling gracing his face as his eyes twinkled.

He genuinely cared what she thought. It tugged at her, nudging the small voice that was warning her not to get too close to him.

Too late, a larger part of her sighed, internally. Far too late.

“It’s beautiful, Jamie.”

Opening the door at the top of the stairs, Jamie pushed his way inside, standing almost on his tiptoes as he watched Claire’s eye widen.

His bed was huge.

A four-poster with such finely carved details and neatly hung lace.

“Oh…my…” Claire whispered, her jaw hanging open as Jamie slid himself closer, his hands exploring the exposed skin of her chest as he fingered the laces he’d tied only minutes before.

“Ye belong here, Claire. Wi’ me.” He said, his voice high as he tried to control his raging emotions.

Flattening his palm over the arch of her bosom, Jamie rolling his hand down her chest, along her belly and down until it rested just over her pelvis.

Cupping his hand over the ruffles in her skirts he ran his nose through her hair line until his lips came to rest against her ear.

“I’ve tried to reason wi’ yer mistress, Claire,” he began, an air of wishful thinking flowing through the air as he spoke, “but she isna having any of it. Ye ken, now, that I would do anything –pay any price– to have ye wi’ me always. I dinna care about Charlie or the rebellion, no’ anymore. But she willna budge.”

Claire stayed quiet, nerves fluttering in her tummy, knowing full well that his mission to acquire her freedom was a fool’s errand.

Scrunching up the material of her skirt, Jamie closed his eyes and sighed.

“…If I get ye wi’ child, Claire…” he continued, his heart racing in time with hers, “she’ll have no choice but to let ye come to me.”

Claire’s breathing almost stopped as the words swilled around her head. Counting backwards, she tried to recall her last courses. Her last meal sat heavy in her stomach, the feel of it suddenly unwelcome as the realisation dawned on her.

She was *never* late. She never missed a month in all the time she’d been a woman. But now, it must have been one –if not two months with no monthly courses.

“Dinna fash, Claire,” Jamie sighed, falsely assuming Claire’s tense mood was in relation to a confrontation with Mistress Baudelaire over ownership rights, “I’ll make sure yer safe, I promise ye.”

Swallowing back the bile that had made its way along her aesophogos, Claire allowed Jamie to lay her against the soft sheets, her eyes glassy and her knees shaking as he steadily undressed her once more, baring every inch of her pale skin to him as he placed one hand either side of her head and lay over her.

Nose to nose, he reached down to undo his kilt, pulling it over their heads to shield them from the bright candlelight of the master bedroom.

“Ye will be mine, Claire. I’m certain of it…” he whispered, sheathing himself inside her in one smooth movement, bringing to life Claire’s once numb body as their hips met.

Hers, flat –for now– shuddered as she felt the familiar pulse of lust as it emanated from the centre of her outwards. She barely remained lucid as the undercurrent of their connection held her staunchly to the earth as –for the first time– he made love to her.

The delicate sweep of his hips lulled her into a sort of hazy, passionate slumber as she closed her eyes and let the feelings of desire and longing course through her body. Set ablaze by Jamie’s body, Claire cried out as an immense tingling sensation took root. The muscles of her thighs clenched and loosened, her heart stuttering in her chest as her hands –balled into fists at his back– held him so close to her chest.

Jamie panted through it, dazed and confused as similar sensations shot through him. Lying together, he collected Claire against him as he fell onto his side, clasping his hand into the loose damp curls at the nape of her neck.  

Letting her guard down for the moment, Claire fell into an easy slumber, the soft rise and fall of Jamie’s chest rocking her to sleep.

Maneuvering his hand, Jamie laid his full palm over the incline of Claire’s arse, cupping her lightly as he joined her in unconsciousness. His soft puffs of breath fluttered against her cheek, making her lips twitching into a smile as she slept, comforted –unconsciously– by his physical presence.

“I love ye, Claire,” Jamie sighed, his heart full as he whispered into the darkness, “I canna tell ye whilst ye wake –our situation being as it is– but I do, sae much.”

As the last candle fluttered and burnt out, completely encasing the lovers in darkness, Claire twitched, her toes curling as she burrowed closer to Jamie.

Unbeknownst to him, she had heard every word.

“I love ye so much, Claire. So much I can barely breathe….”

She waited until the wee hours to make her move, slipping free of his arms as she gathered her clothes and dressed silently.

Holding her cloak tightly around her shoulders, her fingers shaking with the pressure that had built up across her chest, she turned to look at him one last time.

Tears stained her cheeks as she bit her lip, anguish coating her tongue as she whispered almost inaudibly into the large room.

“I love you too, Jamie.”


“I’m so sorry…”


My piece for the @neverbeforevocacollab

March Rain by Days feat. Luo Tianyi is a really nice song and it’s written in poetic (read: archaic) Chinese. While I did make a lot of adjustments to my original vision for the piece, I’m super happy with how it came out!

I’ll Be Home Soon
  • Featuring: Oda Nobunaga from Samurai Love Ballad: Party
  • Rating: M
  • Author’s Note: A little AU idea that popped into my head. Enjoy! 

A pair of arms slid around his waist. Her lips brushed against his earlobe, before finding their favourite spot on the side of his cheek. If it was anyone else, he knew he’d have his sword drawn and at their neck before they even knew what was going on. But, she wasn’t just anyone else.

“Did you miss me, Lord Nobunaga?” Her warmth seeped into his back, and he had to resist turning around and pushing her onto the tatami mat.

“I saw you mere hours ago.” His disinterested tone wouldn’t fool her.

“You can do a lot of things in a couple of hours.” Suzume released her hold on him, taking a seat by his side. “Like sneaking away from your war council, avoiding Mitsuhide, eating the last of that castella you love.”

“Someone snuck away this morning.”

Keep reading

AU #2: Telepathy Isn’t Special (1)

this one i titled Telepathy Isn’t Special. Ain’t that fun? ITS A KURT FIC GET EXCITED

Also it’s pretty much another soul mate au sorta thing but this soul mate thing is a presence in the mind, like you’re linked and can access each other whenever you want but it’s not always.

You grimaced, the weight of another mind pressing against yours and your fingers clenched around your pen.

I’m busy. You shot to the sudden presence and you felt it wince, the unhappiness at being forced away. Your heart twinges and you send begrudging affection toward the presence, feeling it light up.

I missed you. The presence answers and your stomach flips, your lips turning up helplessly. You let the presence bath in your matched feelings before you remind it that you really are busy. This time, it recedes happily, wishing you good luck and you return to the page feeling settled, easier than you were before.

Your pen touches the page before you remember your drink, your eyes scanning the area around you for it only to see it resting, sweating, on the kitchen counter all the way across the room. Your nose wrinkles unhappily and your fingers twitch, the glass disappearing from the bench and reappearing to dampen your fingers.

Taking a sip, you set it off to the side and return to your work, your hand writing out the words as if it was your native tongue and not a long dead language.

“It’s got what we need.” Scott mutters, his face upturned as he glares at the building. Beside him, Jean runs a palm over his shoulder and down his back, easing him and he smiles at her.

“I think the it you’re talking about is a person.” Storm glowers, always displeased with his attitude and Peter nods along with her.

“And why don’t I just go get it?” He adds, offering the girl beside him a goofy grin that she reluctantly returns. “I’m no professor but I can move it.”

Kurt snorts at the half joke, the group recalling the previous nights dance party where most of Quicksilvers moves had been blurs.

“We need the person. They’re a mutant. Their mutation isn’t important, though the Professor told me we need to be careful of it.” Scott butts in, talking over the beginning of Kurts sentence and Storm shares a look with the young man.

“The professor told me.” She mouths to him, poking her tongue out obviously and Jean sighs, the entire group able to feel their leader grind his teeth.

“Here’s how it’s going to be-” Scott begins, the words the same at every debrief, no matter what was happening around them or where they were. Last time, someone’s bullet had just grazed Storm and she was about to go nuclear when he’d cut in with a mission update and calmed the group enough to take down those against them. “Jean’s going to the door, she’s inconspicuous and actually nice.” A pointed look spears Ororo and she growls softly. “Once she’s got the girl talking, she’s going to blank her. From there, Kurt needs to grab her and put her in the car. Then we go home.”

“Why’re we here then?” Peter hums, drumming a rhythm on the street light they were all congregated around.

“In case anything goes wrong. It’s a flimsy plan but it’s the quickest and simplest. We don’t want a fuss.” Scott answers and the group nod, easy understanding filling them.

“Off we go.” Jean grins, bumping her shoulder against Scotts softly, his eyes soft on her, as she turns and heads across the street. Her hands fill her pockets, head down and just slightly nodding, as if she can hear music.

Come on Eileen!” You sing laughingly, sliding and bouncing from spot to spot as you prepare dinner. Your hand flies out, salt appearing in it and suddenly becoming your microphone. “Toora Loora Toora Loo- Rye Aye!”

A knock sounds at the door just as the presence pushes against your mind and you stumble, the salt slipping from your fingers as you catch the counter. The smash echos and you jump, worry pushing against your mind, almost chafing.

“Just a minute!” You try and call over the din, hoping your voice carries over the music. Waving a hand, you dart for the record player, the salt and glass shards disappearing to reappear in the bin behind you.

Panting, you open the door and smile at the red headed girl before you.

“Hello, sorry. I… Uh, was cooking.” You manage, brushing off the fumble with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a girl named Emily?” She asks, voice clear and precise. Very precise for someone who’s supposed to be confused.

“She lives on the floor below. Exactly below actually.” You answer with a furrowed brow, suspicion in your voice and her cheeks colour.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She answers almost instantly, your words barely out of your mouth. Her cheeks get a little redder and you’re about to question her when the presence shoves against your mind and you make a small sound of fury.

“Stop.” You whisper harshly to it, the words escaping your lips accidentally and you’re the one to blush this time. Your eyes meet the girls in the doorway awkwardly and she grins at you.

“Soulmate?” She asks with ease and you know she’s had practice with it, more than likely that this girl has met hers already.

“Yeah. Likes to butt in all the time.” You answer gratefully only to blush again. “He’s great, he really is. Really nice.”

She nods and the tension eases in your shoulders, your momentarily bitter slip having brought a tenseness to them. You hate when people hate him, when he vents to you.

“I’m so sorry for kidnapping you like this. It was advised that we stretch our legs after last weeks incident.” The strange girl offers apologetically and you rear back. Kidnapping? Incident? You’re inside your home, you have no idea about an incident. What is-

The world goes dark.

“Now Kurt.” Scott orders, the dark skinned boys face drawn and unhappy, but he disappears all the same, reappearing moments later with Jean who supports the stranger in her arms.

“Jean.” Scott chides, moving forward and taking the load from her with an unhappy expression and she smiles at him warmly, opening the car door to settle the body in the back.

The team grumbles as they settle into the seats, Jean taking her place beside a driving Scott and Storm at her side. In the back, Kurt rests his head against the window, worry etched in the lines of his face while Peter makes smart comments that have Scott grinding his teeth.

“It’s okay.” Jean promises, turning to face Kurt, who meets her eyes momentarily before turning back to the racing landscape, the tree’s giving way to a stone wall.

“We’re home.” Scott announces, another ritual, as they drive through the gates.

“Y/N.” The wheel chair guy before you greets and you scowl at him. You’re well aware of who he is. Renowned mutant activist, Charles Xavier and by his side- Raven Darkholme. If it weren’t for them, their entirely recognizable faces and more recognizable acts in support of Mutant rights, then you’d be ditching this joint.

“Mr Wheelchair Guy.” You greet cordially, the scowl almost set into your face by now and Mystique matches it.

“Read this, if you could.” He smiles, ignoring the name calling, and offers you a piece of paper.

“I could. But what’re you going to offer me?” You smirk, taking the page and scanning it. Words highlight themselves before you and you flinch from the page, holding it like a bloody knife. “What the hell is this?”

“That’s what we would like to know.” He answers cryptically and you nearly snarl, wanting to throw the page away.

“I’ll tell you what it looks like then.” You snap, barely holding the paper now and knowing if there was a stiff breeze you’d lose it, not that that would be too terrible. “It looks like a signed confession to mutant genocide. And it’s descriptive as hell.”

Ravens brows furrow and she glances at Charles, who meets her eyes for a moment before looking back at you.

“If you could read it? Aloud?” He asks gently and you hiss a breath, inhaling sharply.

“They’re like the wild sheep in the hills.” You begin, teeth clenched between sentences. “Unclean creatures muddying the bloodlines we’ve fought to maintain. Like the sheep from the hills, we clear them. Like the sheep from the hills, the stones are stained with their blood and we paint our houses with the rich colour. The sheep scream, though never as satisfyingly as those plaguing our streets.”

You pause, looking up at the pair as they watch each other. “I don’t want to read this.”

“You’re the best translator in the country, we must ask you to continue.” Charles says with a blank expression and you wonder what he’s hiding, what thoughts are nestled in his mind.

Your heart stutters uneasily and the presence returns, pushing against your mind nervously and you welcome it. Your longing and affection reaches for it, colliding with it’s own and a smile settles on your face.

I’m sorry I snapped earlier. You apologize and warmth fills you, assurances bleeding through your thoughts. Your heart picks up at the attention and instant forgiveness.

I am sorry I pushed so hard. You flinch from the words, denials bursting from your mind to his and you can feel the small laugh that leaves his lips.

“Please continue.” Charles pipes up, ignoring your moments of silence without a word and you change positions before continuing, a thrum in the back of your mind keeping you warm and safe.

“Talking to your lover?” Storm pipes up from beside Kurt and he jumps, popping out of existence and right back on the other side of her. A laugh tinkles from her lips and he watches her dazedly. “A very lucky girl? Boy?”

Kurt hums at the question, he’d never really cared. You knew he was a boy but he’d never pestered you for that kind of information on your own. He doesn’t even know your name.

“You don’t know.” Storm frowns, a pause after her words before she nods understandingly.

“I went through that, for a while. It doesn’t matter who they are on the outside, just the person they are on the inside. The one that your soul recognises.” She explains and his shoulders droop at the confirmation, an agreement with something he’d never been able to voice.

“That is exactly it. Thank you.” Kurt smiles, Ororo copying it without hesitation before she launches into another topic, his famous mutants education.

there you have it. number oneeee

Fake Girlfriend 4 || Dan Howell

A/N: The response to part 3 was just overwhelming! thanky ou so much 💕


Word Count: 1.5K 

POV: Dan

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5

Originally posted by salaiiinspire

“I wasn’t acting.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. She actually wanted to kiss me? My eyes widened as I intensively looked at her. My heart was suddenly racing. Y/N stopped staring at her feet and our gazes met. Her eyes spoke of surprise just like mine did. We just stood there in the middle of the woods, our faces cold and hands sweating. The girl in front of me with the cute red nose was the same one I used to fight with whenever we met. I used to despise her and my hate was returned. So, what happened to us?  Because right at that moment I longed to kiss her sweet pink lips even if it were the last thing that I did.

I swallowed hard. I should’ve probably said something but all I could think about was kissing her. I moved closer to her, leaving footprints in the snow with every step I took. Since she was shorter than me she lifted her head to look up as soon as I stood right in front of her, our chests almost touching. I could feel my body already prickling. She was so damn beautiful. Y/N got on her tiptoes. There were only inches between us. I could feel her warm breath on my cold skin. The spark was almost there. I leaned in to close the distance between us and then?  Shouts.

“Daniel, Y/N! Where are you?” Aunt Sarah’s voice echoed through the forest.

We had fallen behind a while ago and had last seen my relatives more than ten minutes ago. They probably thought we were lost somewhere around here since there were a lot of different paths.

I groaned in annoyance, seeing my aunt and her soon to be husband. ‘We were about to kiss god damn it.’ I wanted to angrily shout in their faces. Maybe I groaned a bit too loud because Y/n started giggling at my exasperation. Just the sound of her little laugh made me calm down.

“We are here!” I shouted back.

After less than 5 minutes we had caught up to my relatives.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to worry you. We just.. uhm needed a minute to ourselves.” I apologized, scratching the back of my head.

“You both know that the fertility luck of that squirrel you saw lasts longer than just a few minutes, right?” my grandma asked, winking again.

Oh my god. Here she goes again. Why does she always have to do this? I mentally facepalmed myself and just laughed it off while Y/N stayed silent in embarrassment.

“I hope you didn’t search for us too long?” I asked with a slight feeling of guilt. Unfortunately, Harry was the first one to answer.

“Well Dan, Auntie Sarah was actually quite worried about you. You must know Y/N, that when Dan and I were 12 we used to play hide and seek here in the woods and Dan got lost for a whole afternoon. When we found him in the evening he was crying his eyes out and since then we weren’t allowed to play here anymore.” Harry ended his anecdote with a bitter laugh and I wondered how many stories that make me seem like the biggest loser on Earth there were.

Much to my liking though Y/N was on my side and not his. Her way of killing was kindness. She just laughed at my 12 year old self and took my hand in hers. Her small fingers felt cold under her knitted gloves so I tried to rub some warmth into her hands.

“Is that why you are scared of trees and the dark?” she wanted to know with a grin and I was surprised that she knew that about me.

Since it was way past midday we soon returned to my aunt’s mansion. Sarah made hot chocolates for all of us to warm up. Later today most of my other relatives would arrive since the wedding was tomorrow. Me and Y/N walked up to our room in silence. My thoughts were racing though. We weren’t even friends when we got here, she was just my fake girlfriend and now? What were we now?

Instead of talking about what happened during our little walk we just talked. About how we both met Phil, what are favourite movies were, what we were scared of as children and topics like that. The only thing we didn’t talk about was our first kiss, our second kiss and our almost kiss. I think we were both unsure of what the other would say and we just didn’t know how to address it. At five in the afternoon there was a knock on our door, making me stop talking mid-sentence.

“Hey, lovebirds. Most of your aunts, uncles and cousins have arrived, Dan. Why don’t you two come downstairs to have dinner with all of us?”

“Sure, auntie.” I said while Y/N sweetly smiled at Sarah.

We got up from the armchairs near the big window that we were sitting on. Y/N checked her hair in the mirror on the wall before she approached the door.

“I can’t believe that out of all girls in the world, it’s you who is my fake girlfriend.” I uttered with astonishment.

My words made Y/N stop in the middle of her tracks. She turned around to look at me and when I saw her face I realized that she had completely misunderstood what I had said. I was trying to compliment her. I was simply expressing my amazement because the most beautiful girl in the whole entire world agreed to act like she is my girlfriend. She had interpreted what I said differently, in a negative way.  

“Y/N I didn’t mean it like-“ I defended myself trying to make this, whatever this was, okay again.

“Let’s just go meet your family.” She snapped and walked out of the door.

 Smooth Dan Howell. Real smooth.

I headed after her, wanting to apologize, but it was already too late.

“Daniel dear!” various relatives exclaimed with glee when they saw me and I shook a lot of hands instead of kissing Y/N.

What I soon learned was that Y/N was indeed a really good actress. She acted like the perfect girlfriend and made us seem like we were the happiest couple on Earth. Only I knew that she was actually mad at me. What was I even thinking when I said that? Why didn’t I ask her to be my girlfriend already?

The horror that I might have ruined whatever we could have had made my heart want to explode. We sat at the table talking and chatting with everybody, eating dinner and answering questions about our fake relationship.

“Looking at you two makes me want to be young again.” My grandma said with a smile.

Y/N blushed and squeezed my hand underneath the table.  It was just an act but I wanted it to be real so badly.

So I plunged in at the deep end.  I moved closer to her, my palms sweaty.

“I’m  I am – uh.. falling for you, Y/N.” I whispered into her ear, my heartbeat almost louder than my words.

I watched her face lose colour at my words. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to say something but then closed it again.

I could tell that she was shouting “Dan?!” inside of her head right now.

Dessert couldn’t be served soon enough and we nearly jumped up from our seats when we were finished. We took two stairs at the same time, nearly sprinting to our room. When I shut the door behind me, there was nothing and nobody holding us back anymore.

“CAN WE FINALLY TALK ABOUT THIS?!” Y/N screamed, but just as those words had left that pretty mouth of hers I had stumbled forward to where she stood and crashed my lips onto hers. I was finally kissing her, no acting just real feelings. She immediately kissed back and there was that famous spark again. My whole body was on fire as I wrapped my arms around her waist and she tangled her fingers in my hair. There was no space between our bodies left as we moved our lips in perfect rhythm.  

We broke apart staring at each other in sheer amazement.

I was still out of breath but she was right, we had to talk about his. So I swallowed hard and talked.

“Okay so, first of all I just want you to know I am not acting right now. It’s all real and I never should have lied.

The second thing I want you to know is that what I said before dinner was supposed to be a compliment, but it looks like I am just freaking dumb.

The third confession is that I have fallen so hard for you and every time I kiss you it feels like I am actually on fire.”

Y/N and I had the biggest smiles on our faces as I finally spoke my mind.

“Oh and fourth, I’m tired of this fake girlfriend thing. The ‘fake’ part just doesn’t work out for me.”

anonymous asked:

Umm hello! I was wondering if you could make some prompts for my character and her boyfriend she's mute and can control plants and he has super speed thanks :3

He learned to read a language in her plants. The bloom of sunflowers in her happiness, blossoming uncontrollably in the corners of the room when they came together. The browning of petals in her sorrow, the withering of living things in her rage as if the whole world could decay in the winters of her heart. Everything seemed to spring to colour around her so who needed words?  

He found it difficult to hold still. A whirlwind of movement, fidgeting, playing with her hair, kissing her fingers, buzzing manic around the room because to someone like him the world seemed unbearably slow. Always needing to be doing something. It was all she could do to keep up - always fearing that one day, she would be left behind, and unable to call out he wouldn’t even know until she was a memory on the horizons on his life. And yet, like the earth spinning the sun at a thousand miles an hour, she remained the centre of his world to always return to.

Even with all the speed in the world, he couldn’t stop the enemy from taking her for her powers. She would save the world they said, bring back life from the dust and the rubble of the apocalypse, whether she liked it or not. They didn’t care if she would burn herself out doing it. But he did. 

purple-apple578  asked:

What annoys me about Rose's design is that her lipstick or whatever never fills her lips completely... They only screenshoot where it actually does it it's on Storm in the Room when Steven was telling Cloud Rose that she shattered Pink D

I never fully understood that design choice, it doesn’t always look bad but sometimes it can be drawn really small and that looks weird

I did a quick sketch of what it would look like if Rose’s lipstick did fully colour her lips

I think it looks quite nice!

Preference #15 - You’re His Celebrity Crush (Niall)

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long!! 

Niall was barely paying attention as he walked with the other boys along the red carpet. Normally he would have been excited, walking in front of them, posing for pictures and contributing in the interviews they were stopped for; however he just couldn’t get into the right head space tonight.

Harry had unintentionally mentioned that the woman Niall had been secretly crushing over for months was attending the award show tonight - actually not even just attending, she was presenting the whole damn thing - that was the point Niall felt like his heart may come crashing out of his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking of her, his mind completely and utterly lost on everything else around him.

The both of you had never met in person, had never interacted more than over twitter and to say that he was nervous would be an understatement. The other boys were the only ones that knew about his crush, they’d worked it out the first time they’d seen Niall staring dreamily at the laptop screen while watching one of your music videos. At first they’d all teased him about it, made little jokes at his expense while his cheeks flushed bright, but after awhile they stopped, realizing that they’d never seen Niall like someone so much.

He looked up at the sound of his name, noticing that the new interviewer and all the boys were looking right at him. He felt the back of his neck get hot as he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Sorry,” He muttered. “What was that?”
“I was just asking if all of you were excited for being nominated for another award tonight?”
“Oh! Oh yeah of course,” He answered.
“Don’t mind Niall tonight,” Louis cut in with a smirk. “He’s just a little lost in his thoughts.”
Niall threw a glare towards Louis while they continued walking up the red carpet, knowing full well that if the interviewer had asked the question Louis would have been more than happy spilling out his crush to the whole world.


As the night progressed Niall got more and more nervous, knowing that the category they’d been nominated for was come up shortly. His mind was a complete mess of what if’s at this point - what if they won and he tripped on the way up to the stage, what if he was up on stage and he couldn’t talk to her without making an idiot himself…

“Alrighty guys!” Y/n spoke into her microphone, a big smile on her face. “I have the winner of this years most popular music video, do you want to know who it is?” There were cheers around the room and Niall felt his breath hitch in his throat. “The winner is….One Direction!”

The room erupted into applause as the boys got to their feet, giving each other a quick hug before making their way towards the stage, y/n standing up there with their award, a huge smile on her lips. Niall walked towards her, feeling his throat tighten the closer he got, his cheeks hot.
“Congratulations guys!” She said excitedly when they reached her, passing the award over to Harry who held it up above his head. “You must be so happy.”
“Honestly, we couldn’t be happier,” Liam answered proudly.
“We were all excited at being nominated, it’s always such a great feeling to know that all your hard work paid off.” Harry adds.

Y/n nodded her head at all their answers, asking them a few more questions that Niall didn’t hear; he was too engrossed in watching the way her lips formed around each of her words, the way the colour of her eyes were sparkling under the stage lights. He was so gone.

Written By Bree xx

AU // Darcy Lewis as a Demi-Goddess as suggested by @typhoidmeri

– I made a short ficlet to go with the fan art –

It was their first time in Asgard.

Well, not really. It was Jane’s second? Third? Seventh? In Asgard. It was her first. Darcy has been invited the previous times they had to cross the rainbow bridge, but she refused. Her mother would kill her.

“Those Asgardians with their stupid tree of life and their posh golden castles. They think they’re so much better than us Olympians. They’re obviously wrong, Darcy, so don’t listen to a word they say,” her uncle’s siblings used to say. (Zeus. It was mostly Zeus. And Hera. And Ares.)

Who was her uncle? No one other than Hades. Who was her mother? The goddess Nyx. Which was kind of ironic since Darcy herself didn’t really personify night skies and darkness. Although ending up working for (with!!!) Jane made sense when she thought about it. She didn’t tell her friend though, when she chose to help clear the skies when they went out star hunting.

“You’ll love it Darce! Everything’s so golden, and they have the perfect view of the sky. And there are so many things to learn! Their healers know advanced medical techniques!”

Darcy listened to Jane, all the time pretending she heard this for the first time. (She already heard it from uncle Zeus. “They think their technology is better than ours simply because it’s fancier! Heathens!!! Their healers can’t even-“)

“Darcy! Are you even listening?”

“Yes Jane. Rainbow bridge. Awesome doctors and nurses. Golden gates.”


“What? My expertise is negotiating between countries. Not which doctors can cure the flue faster.”

“Just don’t be a drag? Odin has went from hating me to tolerating me, and I can’t have you-“

“Jeopradize your relationship with Thor. Goddit boss lady.”

Thor called for Heimdall and in a flash they were transported. Darcy’s eyes hurt the moment they landed. Odin must be overcompensating for something.

“Welcome, Lady Jane and Lady Darcy. If you feel queasy, that is normal.”

“Nah, I’m fine golden eyes,” she stated to who she assumed was Heimdall, standing straight with his golden regalia. He raised an eyebrow, and she mentally slapped herself. This guy already knew her secret, didn’t he?

“Your rooms await you,” he replies, simply smiling rather mysteriously Darcy’s way.

One of the maids (slaves? Long line of servants families? She didn’t know how the service industry works in Asgard, okay?) led her to her room, which was so much bigger than her dingy apartment back on Earth

“A dress has been chosen for you, milady. Please wear it to the ball,” the maid said. Jane walked by and whispered rather loudly, “Please wear it Darcy. The dinner’s formal and it’s polite to wear it so don’t wear one of your strappy dresses for bar hopping.”

Darcy faked a gasp. “I would never!” she said before laughing and entering her room.

She looked at her dress. Wearing Asgardian clothes as a daughter of an Olympian (well…technically Chthonic) deity? Even Hades, as patient as he is, would get angry. Something about wearing the clothes of the enemy team. Thank goodness she brought one of the dresses her aunt made for her. Persephone did always have good taste. It was polite enough for a formal dinner party, without looking to Midgardian, but still not Grecian enough to make people notice that she was a half. “Aunt Seph, you’re the best!”

Darcy cleaned and prepped herself, wondering what kind of people were invited to the king’s feast. Asgardians probably ate a lot. At least, if most of them ate like Thor they would.  She donned on her dress. It was a pretty lilac-ish, lavender-ish (Persephone’s words, not hers!) colour that was soft enough to obscure her familial ties. She wasn’t bold enough to wear her mother’s colours to an Asgardian feast.

Darcy stepped out of her room and promptly crashed into another body. Another rather hard, leather-bound body.

“I didn’t know we invited the Olympian pantheon to an Asgardian feast,” the sarcastic voice drawled. Drawled. It made her skin crawl. And not in a bad way. She wished it was in a bad way.

“You didn’t. I’m Midgardian. Fling me off a roof and I die Midgardian???” she replied, trying to conceal her panic and her lie. He really was as smart as the stories told.

“We can test that theory of yours.”

“Be ready to be beaten to a pulp by Bruce again if you try to do that Loki,” she said right back, boldly looking up at him (quite up, he was a tall man).

His reply was an amused smirk.

“Well, milady?” he finally said after a long rather tense silence. She took his offered arm and they went together to the ballroom where the feast was held. Darcy was floored. Everything was gold. Chairs, pillars, the goddamn ceiling. Everything. It didn’t compare to Tartarus, obviously, because the dark glinting walls and silver lights that made up her second home grew on her. Asgard was just so 180 she kind of went into shock.

Her eyes scanned the entire room. Her hand went up to cover her open mouth. It was gorgeous. Jane totally didn’t exaggerate.

“Shocked? I assume there is nothing like this on Midgard,” Loki said, a smirk on his face from what she could see from the corner of her eye.

“Cathedrals, my man, cathedrals are totally like this. And castles. Palaces? Yeah those.”

“Midgardian palaces?” he inquired, his smirk growing, as if he know something he shouldn’t, and would use it against her.

Darcy starts to get cold sweat in fear of her secret getting spilled.

You’re a god damn demi-goddess, Darcy Lewis! Get over yourself! You can get through an Asgardian meet n greet!

But before she could tell Loki to shut his trap, fanfares started and they were ushered in.