and his poof is coming back


Originally posted by thefirstgingerdoctor

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt:  anonymous asked: okay so I’ve been looking through a LOT of your imagines and its safe to say that i frikin love ur blog and i was wondering if you could do one of peter pan x reader where the reader is watching the campfire at the corner and peter comes up from behind (theyre dating btw) without her knowing and starts kissing down her neck and teasing her there and id love it to be just really cute and pan whispers some inappropriate things and end in smut + lots if foreplay :))

Anonymous asked: YOOO YOUR SMUT IS SO GOOD THANK YOU!!!! More Peter Pan smut okay? ;) Robbie Kay is a sexy devil. But seriously ur writing is so talented you should be proud

Warning: SMUT!                                                                                    

A/N:  I am going to hell. Enjoy darlings!


You had traveled to just about every realm, but you can honestly say Neverland was your favorite. When you had first arrived you knew you were going to love dense-jungle island. It held such magic and wonder that you felt like you had jumped into a fairytale. Well, you kind of had, but that’s beside the point.

When you had first arrived, Peter and his Lost Boys were wary of you, having never had a girl come to the island before, not including Wendy, of course. As time went on, however, the boys learned to love you, seeing you as an equal and friend. Peter had taken an extra special liking to you, though. Two months into your stay in Neverland, the beautiful demon boy had pulled you the most beautiful spot in Neverland, and for the first time, had told you of his love for you. Ever since then, the two of you could rarely be seen without the other. You made him into a better person, the person he thought you deserved, and for once in your life, you could say you were genuinely happy.

It was night; the day had been long day, the boys just now settling down from a day full of games. Most had gone to sleep, but you and a few others had stayed up, watching the campfires glow. You were transfixed by the flames, the colors melding together to create such a wonderful array, it was nearly impossible to look away. You were too lost in thought; you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind. You felt a pair of lips on the back of your neck, and you jolted in surprise. You soon relaxed, knowing it was Peter. No one else dared to touch you in such a way.

Peter kept placing kisses on your neck, making you moan slightly. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. You sighed contently, loving the feeling of his body against you.  You felt him press his lips against the shell of your ear, before you heard him whisper in your ear. “(Y/N), kitten, do you have any idea how much I want you?” You gasped sharply at his words, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. “Oh, love, I’ve been thinking about that tight pussy all day. Can’t wait to get you alone, kitten. Gonna make you scream my bloody name.” You pressed your thighs together in hopes of getting some friction, the wetness in your panties growing.

Peter knew what he was doing, and he loved it. He loved the affect he had on you, what a few simple words could reduce you too. He decided to take it a step further by ghosting his hand over your clothed core, the slight touch making you whimper. He smirked against your neck, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Come on love, let’s get out of here, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his hands still ghosting over where you want him most. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, allowing him to poof the pair of you back to his treehouse.

As soon as you appeared in his treehouse he slammed you against a wall, his lips harshly covering yours. You moaned against his lips, pressing your back against his with equal fervor. You brought your hands to his head, tugging at the soft hair there. He groaned, and deepened the kiss. You felt his hand in your hair, before he suddenly jerked your head to the side. You gasped at the feeling, before you felt him bite and suck on your neck. You almost whimpered under his ministrations, loving his treatment of you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

You felt his hand trailing under your shirt, before firmly grabbing your breasts through your bra, his attack on your neck not stopping for one moment. You were too lost in the sensations; you didn’t even hear a faint snap of his fingers. You hadn’t realized what he had done until you had felt a slight breeze against your skin, your eyes moved down and you saw he had made both of your clothes disappear. You laughed slightly, loving how impatient he was. Your laughter died off when you felt the hand that was once in your hair cupping your core.

You moaned loudly, his fingers slowly and methodically tracing your lower lips. His attack on your breasts hadn’t stopped; his hands alone making you tremble and moan. He pinched your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb. The same time he did this, he slowly entered one finger into your dripping core. You whimpered, the feelings were becoming too much. “Peter please…” you whimpered out, wanted to feel more. He smirked, before adding another finger, and quickening his pace. You moaned, the delicious friction causing your knees to shake.

You felt you’re high coming quickly, faster than you had anticipated. Your moans becoming louder, faster, the sounds of your pleasure filling the room. You were almost there, until he suddenly pulled away. You cried out, distraught over the loss of his fingers inside your pussy. “Shh, now love, I’ve got you. Gonna make you feel really good, love, I promise.”

He dropped down on his knees in front of you, his face dangerously close to your core. Your eyes widened at the realization of what he was going to do. He smirked up at you, never breaking eye contact as he licked a broad stripe on your pussy. You moaned out, eyes instantly closing, your head falling back slightly. Peter wrapped his arms arounds your thighs, pushing you closer to him. His tongue teased against your entrance, tracing letters to your core. You could barely make out what he was spelling, your head to dizzy with pleasure. M-I-N-E. You moaned loudly at the realization of what he was spelling, his possessiveness over you turning you on even more. He traced the word over your core a few more times, before finally flicking his tongue over your clit. You nearly screamed, the feeling becoming too much. For the second time that night you felt your high approaching again.

Peter pulled away before you could cum, leaving you almost screaming in frustration. He stood up quickly, pressing you against the wall yet again. “Jump.” He said, a commanding tone in his voice. You instantly complied, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his waist, and your arms around his neck. He pushed your back firmly against the wall before attaching his lips to your, reaching between your bodies to guide his cock into your wet heat. He slowly pushed in, the both of you moaning against the others lips when he was fully sheathed inside you.

He started rocking his hips at a fast pace, earning a grateful moan from you.  “Oh, love, you feel so perfect around me. Bet you love my cock inside you, huh kitten?” He moaned in your ear, the sounds of his grunting and panting flooding your senses. You just frantically nodded your head, words failing you at the moment. He started pounding harder into you, his hand trailing between your bodies, suddenly toying with your clit.

You let out a choked noise, you fingers carding in his hair. . His head dropped into the crook of your neck, his movements relentless. You felt your pussy tighten around his cock, your orgasm approaching for the third time that night.  “P-peter! I-I’m gonna…!” you moaned out, wanting nothing more than to cum. “I know, gorgeous. Me too. C-come for me, (Y/N).Cum, now.”  His words sent you over the edge, your grip on his hair tightened as you screamed out his name. He followed you into bliss, your name falling off his lips like a prayers.

When you both came off of your highs, you shakily un-wrapped your legs around his waist, you almost falling to the ground in the process. Peter caught you in time, and picked you up bridal style, before carrying you over the bed. He laid you down on top of the bed before lying down next to you. You turned to get comfortable, sleep almost consuming you, before you felt Peter wrap an arm around your waist, pulling your body against his.

He leaned over and placed a gently kiss on your forehead. “I love you, my little Lost Girl.” He whispered, his hands playing with your hair as a way to lull you to sleep. You smiled sleepily, before replying “I love you too, Peter.” Sleep quickly took over your mind, his motions soothing you. Peter smiled at your sleeping form, wondering just how he got so lucky to have you in his life.

anonymous asked:

Can I request the RFA +V with an MC who constantly wonders off? Like they are just hanging out together and she gets distracted and vanishes for anywhere between a few minutes to a few days and always forgets to tell them.

Me but mentally. Sorry for my unannounced hiatus, but it’s summer and i’m ready to imagINE~Madre Mod


  • He’s very confused??
  • He was talking to you as he was playing a game but when he turns to face you you’re just
  • gone
  • You eventually came back after an hour but when you came back he’s on the floor clutching his phone
  • he’s crying
  • You make your presence known and he JUMPS YOU
  • He’s telling you to never do that again


  • He took you out to a picnic cause he’s romantic like that
  • He turned around to get something out of the basket 
  • turns around and ‘poof’ you’re gone!
  • He is internally panicing
  • he thinks you went to the bathroom
  • yeah the bathroom
  • you don’t come back for an hour
  • why didn’t he do that in the first place?
  • finds out that you wondered off then went home
  • sprints home and nearly crushes you in a hug
  • don’t worry him like thAT


  • It was a busy work day
  • the work was clearly tiring her out so you sent her home so she can rest
  • she agreed, only if you come straight home after work.
  • skip to a few hours after closing time Jaehee is up and a bit worried
  • “Maybe she forgot?? Maybe her friends came and dragged her some place to hang out! No…she would tell me.”
  • Ok maybe she’s more worried than she thought
  • like zen she calls your phone
  • but you don’t answer
  • but you did call her from a payphone(lol do these even exist anymore??) saying that you kinda walked around the town for a while
  • and that your phone died.
  • You might wanna get her something cause she’s gonna scold the hell out of you.


  • This is interesting.
  • So you told jumin you was going to go to the store
  • he told you to take a body guard or two with you just in case.
  • You did just to make him sleep at night.
  • a few hours later he gets a call from said bodyguard that you dissapeared.
  • The bodyguard was fired shortly after.
  • Jumin called a damned search party to look for you
  • the search lasted a few days until you had the nerve to just show up at the penthouse like you wasn’t M.I.A for three days.
  • He refused to let you leave the house without him for a while because of this.


  • He knows where you are
  • you can’t disappear
  • but just for this lets say you went to get the mail but then you saw this cute dog
  • then forgot the reason you came outside
  • So you went to the store cause you thought about making food when you get home
  • so you was gone for about a few minutes.
  • When he realized he you never came home right away he soft hacked your phone to find the location
  • Seven didn’t panic that day.


  • Please don’t do this to him
  • He took you to one of his photo showings thing and he lost you in the crowd of people
  • seeing as his eyes are still adjusting to seeing clearly he can’t find you.
  • but on the other side of the building, you’re just looking at all the photos , oblivious to the blue haired man trying to find your ass
  • He took a while trying to find you since eVERY FUCKING BODY WANTS TO TALK TO HIM ALL OF A SUDDEn
  • but when he finds you he grips your hand and tells you to not let go.
  • for his health, the poor man nearly cried. 
Bundle Of Joy - Part Three

Originally posted by bovaria

Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Parent!Reader
Summery: Reader invites Bucky in for a drink.
Warnings: None
Part OnePart Two

“So, you’re unmarried.”

It wasn’t a question, yet he had said it with slight hesitation. You hadn’t even noticed the way Bucky had been eyeing your ringless finger as the two of you walked down the empty street, your left hand only visible to him because you had wrapped it around your daughter, shifting her weight off of your chest. Now that he had mentioned it, you suddenly realized that up until this point he had no reason to think that you were a single parent.

“Yeah,” You murmured, your hand curling into a tight fist before you let it drop by your side. “Terribly modern of me, I know. No boyfriend either.”

“Nothing wrong with modern.” Bucky chuckled.

As the two of you turned the corner, your apartment building came into view. The plain, unpainted redbrick structure was connected to every other building on its side of the road, completely identical to those parallel. Craning your head back, you saw that the windows of your apartment were dark - just the way you had left them.
Bucky walked with you all the way to the front door.

“Well,” you started, unwrapping your arm from his, “this is me.”

Even with your daughter fastened against your chest, the cold night sent a violent shiver down your spine. With one hand you gripped your jacket closer to your body in a futile attempt to generate warmth, enveloping your sleeping daughter in the fabric.

“Would you like to come in and have a drink or something?” You asked Bucky, looking up at him with a hopeful smile. “You don’t have to, of course. It’s late and I completely understand if you don’t wanna - ”

“ - I’d love to.” Bucky accepted loudly as a car drove by, cutting you off from you rambling with a bright smile and a short laugh. Your stomach filled with butterflies as you gazed at him, your knees going weak as you felt your heart swell with joy. You could’ve stood there on the doormat until the sun rose above the city, just admiring him.

“Alright then,” You say, turning to the green painted door and pressing one of the five buzzers beside it - the one labeled Ms Vivian Chambers.

“Don’t you have a key?” Bucky asked you, his brow creasing in bewilderment.
You peered at him over your shoulder, taking a step back to look at the fourth set of windows above you.

“Lost them a little while go, but Viv doesn’t mind. I swear she’s nocturnal.”

Bucky didn’t have time to reply, because just as he parted his lips the lock clicked and you swung the old door open.

He followed close behind you as you entered, finding a seldom used staircase and no sign of an elevator upon entry. The place was gorgeous. Polished wood made up the stairs and rails and a red carpet matched the red with gold designed wallpaper.

“Coming?” You asked him from where you stood on the stairs, watching him as he took in his surroundings.

“Uh - yeah.” He said, jogging up the first few steps to catch up with you.

‘Keep quiet,” You hushed as the stairs creaked underneath him. “If Vivian finds you here, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”

“Did what?” You asked, passing the first apartment door and up the second flight of stairs.

“Sneak pass snoopy neighbours with a pretty girl.”

You faltered on the steps as his words reached your ears.

“That’s cute.” You murmured, feeling your cheeks burn.

Once the two of you arrived at on the third landing, you walked straight up to the dark green door, took hold of the handle and kicked, the door reluctantly opening at you show of force. Then a shout came from up stairs.

“Is that you, (Y/N)?” Called down Vivian Chambers. “Who’s that you’ve got with you?”

Your hand fell from the doorknob, leaving it ajar, and you stepped to the side, lent over the railing and peered up at the older woman. “Hello, Viv!”

Vivian Chambers was much older than yourself, with bleached blonde hair that had been sprayed relentlessly until it stood on end in a 80s styled poof. She was tall - even without the killer heels she always wore - and had huge filled red lips. Her voice was scratchy (might have had something to do with how she always had a cigarette in hand) and oddly low. She grinned down at you, the corners of her eyes stretching with her expression. “Hello, dear.”

Licking your lips in hesitation, you looked back at Bucky, gesturing for him to come over. He clasped his right hand over his mouth to suppress his laugh and did as you instructed, relaxing his face before looking up at Vivian himself.


“Whoa!” Vivian exclaimed as soon as he came into her line of vision. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“This is Bucky.” You introduced. “He’s a friend.”

“Oh, honey. Just a friend?” Her laugh was breathy and echoed throughout the building. “A guy like that ain’t just a friend, but if that’s the case Buckaroo, you’re welcome to come up to my apartment. Put some tunes on and…you know.”

“You’re old enough to be his mother!” You choked, tears coming to your eyes as you tried not to bend over in laughter.

Viv gave you a cheeky grin and took a puff of her cig. “Darling, we’re the same age!”

You waved your hand in a dismissive way and turned back to your door, hearing her leave the stairs above. “Yes, well. Parts of us are.”

Giving Bucky a apologetic look, you quietly let him, your daughter and yourself into you apartment. Shutting the door behind you and flicking on the lights, you revealed the mismatched furniture that resided within the bare, red bricked walls.

“Home sweet home.” You stated, stepping into the main living area and throwing your coat over the back of the brown leather couch to your left. The apartment smelt of sandalwood incense with a slightly dusty undertone that tickled your daughters nose, making her sneeze.

“Oop!” You laughed, unclipping the fastenings of the baby carrier. “Hello, sleepyhead.”

Your daughter didn’t seem that fazed by her small series of sneezes and merely whined and snuggled closer to your breast. Heaving a sigh, you preyed her from your body along with the baby carrier and walked passed Bucky into the next room. There you unbuckled your daughter and let her down in her cot to sleep.

“Ms Chambers doesn’t that bad.”

“Ha!” You laughed, walking back into your living room area where Bucky had sat himself down on your couch. “You don’t know her like I do. Trust me, as soon as you’re gone she’s going to be straight down here with a bottle of something and will try to cox your entire life story out of me.”

“Now, what would you like to drink, Bucky?” You asked him.

“What do you have?”

Opening the cabinets above the kitchen bench, you peered at the bottles you had in store there. “White and red wine and bourbon.”

“Glass of white for me, thanks.”

You twisted around to look at him. “Seriously?”


“Nothing,” You said, taking the wine bottle out, “it’s just that you’re possibly the first guy I’ve known who’d rather white over red.”

Pouring yourself and Bucky a glass each, you balanced the glasses in each hand as you walked over to him, the bottle tucked under your arm. Taking his glass, Bucky budged over to allow you space to sit down next to him after you set the wine bottle of the coffee table. Shifting around on the cushions, you sat to face him.

“So,” You begin, “tell me about yourself, Buck.”

Part Four


@paranoid-borderline-insane @dance4angels @kennadance14 @fab-notfat @cassandras-musings @livasaurasrex @iamwarrenspeace @hollycornish @greek-freak101 @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @priettierthanyou @purplekitten30

Dead Girl Walkin’.

A/n: Yay! My first marvel fic, and of course it’s Frank, who else would it be? (Maybe Bucky….or Sam..) Points aside, I’m glad he’s the one to kick off this blog. Also big shoutout to @murdochinthetardis For beta-ing some of this. Anyway, Reqs are open, send in ask, blah blah blah.

Summary: (Set pre-season 2) After you get caught trying to do the unthinkable you get a thirty hour ticking time bomb of a punishment, and, yeah, It’s a miracle you’re not dead, truly, but come on.Thirty hours?That’s not enough time to do anything, well…maybe go see Frank. There’s time for that. Or, the one where the reader seeks a friend at the end of the world.

Word Count: 4.9K

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader.

Rating: E (for explicit, not everyone.)

Warnings: Violence, blood, Cursing, Frank is his own warning, Smut, I’m talking the freaky deaky. It’s rough, and Frank, bless his heart, is a dominant man if there ever was one. But also fluff, because he’s a sweetheart. Pining, God, you two are a mess of it I swear.

Author: Jada.



It was an absolute fact that you weren’t gonna die a peaceful death. Yeah no, you were gonna go out one of two different ways. One, a Bruce Willis, Die Hard type thing with

at least

two explosions. Or two, someone else is gonna punch your card for you. Full stop. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, that’s it.

Frank threw a guess in once. Said you’d probably go out saving a bunch’a kids from a burning building or something, because you’re a soft ass like that, Sunshine, that’s why. He was three stitches deep on his right arm, and shooting you looks from his side of the couch. Ain’t that right, Sunshine?

Nope. Nuh-uh, not even close. You get a grand total of thirty hours, all Courtesy of Mr. Kingpin himself. Fisk. What kind of name is Fisk anyway? It sounds too much like Fist, or fish, either way it’s awkward. You’re just being pissy, because you got caught, and Fisk is rubbing it in your face.

Keep reading

Endgame: Steven will poof

As far as christmas episodes go, Three Gems and a Baby was surprisingly subtle in that it never explicitly dealt with christmas. That said, for any other topic the symbolism doesn’t get more ham-handed than that. From Greg’s dolorosa pose and garb, the snow-in, and the three wise women coming baring useless gifts (what the fuck am i supposed to do with myrrh?)

Finally, there’s the fact that the whole episode is about discussing the nature of a half-human half-immortal child who will grow up to become the savior of earth.

It’s pretty obvious what they’re angling at, so I feel I should give a spoiler warning here because things are getting really goddamn plot-twisty. Here it is. Don’t come crying to me when you get spoiled

Okay, are you ready?


Okay, sorry, I know I’m supposed to wait a bit before I post stuff like that, but what’s done is done.

Okay, but what does that have to do with Steven? Well, by casting steven as the baby jesus in the nativity scene, the crew is adding a huge and explicit connection upon him. If steven was just your typical half-human half-alien savior, it could be played any number of ways, but the addition of a christ allegory narrows down what sort of savior he is. By making Steven a christ-figure, he is now burdened with the responsibility of sacrifice

Steven’s arc will have to end in his death!

Okay, that might have come out wrong. Obviously even if the writers wanted to kill off a child the FCC would come down hard on their ass. No, he would need to come back from it. Aren’t we lucky then that gems can regenerate and that the christ narrative is defined not by death but by resurrection.

Steven will poof and reform at the end of the series!

Edit: I’m going to discuss why Rose won’t come back if Steven dies later, but someone raised a good point that I need to bring up: We don’t know if Steven can poof.

Well, as it turns out, Steven need not poof for this all to play out. Even without a a body made of easily reformable light, Steven still has several more safety nets.

First off, let’s not forget that Steven’s mouth is full of healing saliva. Even if he’s seriously injured, he’s in constant contact with a substance that heals instantly. Of course using that would be fucking cheap even though we’ve known about it the entire time. 

No, Steven’s real safety net is far more mundane


Now, I could go easy here and bring up the fact that connie has access to both her mother’s ambulance and defibrillators as seen in Steven’s Birthday, as well as the statement that she knows how to use them, but in the end, drama and young love are the real asset here. CPR is called the kiss of life for a reason, and I don’t doubt Connie knows it. What better way to save their first kiss for the right moment than having it happen with her resuscitating him at the finale!

Woo! Cute cliches!

Okay, now that rose thing

I’m going to clarify right here and now that Rose is not coming back. Steven will poof, he will regenerate, and Rose will remain a small part of him. There are two reasons for this, both of which are metafictional

The first and biggest reason is that fundamentally, having Rose come back is identical to killing Steven. Even if she retained Steven’s memories, Steven’s identity would no longer exist.

The other and almost equal in brobdingnagianity (god I love recycling that SAT word), is the fact that so much of the show is defined by the irreversibility of Rose’s death. Loss is a fundamental part of who we are as a species, and no matter how much we want it, the dead aren’t coming back. As ironic as it is to bring up when we’re discussing that another character is going to be resurrected, the fact remains that everything about the story, about the characters and their arcs, hinges on the idea of moving on. Steven has an easy way to sacrifice himself and survive it, but Rose is already gone.

Utapri Maji Love Live 6th Stage Twitter Round Up

DISCLAIMER: I am only rounding up information found on twitter in one huge post as a reference for convenience. I did not go to the concert. 

Alright! This isn’t the best round up of info I’ve gotten but I might update this as other people on twitter put out their thoughts and feelings and what they saw!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you please write a fic about the first time John and paul share a bed and they top and tail and it's awkward but then they switch around and sparks fly ⭐️ thank you so much!!

ive been absolute shite with my prompts lately and im so sorrrrrrry but here we go. and yes it’s short im on my lunch break and felt like writing! enjoy.


“Bloody hell, I’m knackered.” John stretched as he and his best mate walked into their small shared hotel room. “Je suis fatigué.” Paul said with a smug look on his face, stretching out his arms above his head. “Don’t think that’s right, mate.” John chuckled through a yawn. “We’re in Paris now, John. We should be learnin’ the language of looove!” Paul practically sang as he poked John’s nose playfully. “Sod off.” John rolled his eyes and threw his suitcase down on the floor. “It’s only the first night ‘ere, and yer already being stroppy.” Paul put his suitcase down on the floor too and sat down, crossing his legs in front of it as he unzipped it, pulling it open.

“Only one bed,” Paul observed, not looking away from the contents of his suitcase. “We can take turns every night. I’ll get it tonight.” John flopped himself down on the small, single bed. “You wha’?!” Paul’s head shot up to look at John. He would get that bed tonight. “Well, it was my bright idea, wasn’t it?” John stripped his shirt off and crossed his arms behind his head and kicked his shoes off. “Get off.” Paul stood up and put his hands on his hips, staring down at his friend. John reached up and pulled the chord for the lamp. “Might as well give up Macca. ’m not movin’.” He wasn’t lying at all, either. The lad didn’t move a muscle. Paul started to take his boots off, followed by his shirt.

“Shove over, then.” He ordered. John looked up at him. Paul could see his eyes through the darkness. “What?” John yawned again. “We can go top and tail. Mike and I used t'have to.” Paul explained as he watched his friend shift himself over to make room for him. Paul crawled in and lied down with his feet beside John. “Night, Macca.” John grumbled. Paul groaned in response. The two lads laid there silently, both of them trying their hardest to get comfortable. It was seemingly impossible. John kept kneeing Paul in the stomach, and Paul would flick him lightly in return.

John tried to roll over, which caused a half asleep Paul to nearly fall off the bed. “Ugh,” Paul grunted as he tried to rearrange himself to benefit the two of them. “Alright, that’s enough.” John sat up and looked down at his friend, who looked back at him with tired eyes. “Just come up here.” John ordered, pointing to the small space beside him. Paul didn’t feel like arguing, or calling him a poof. He was too tired for that. Plus, it was John.

Paul sat up and spun himself around so he was sitting up right next to John. The boys lied down, and almost instantly they were more comfortable. “Better?” Paul whispered as he felt John’s hand lightly brush against his bare back. Paul heard John hum in response, and he felt his breath on the back of his neck, sending unfamiliar sparks down Paul’s spine. His arm began to fall asleep, so he rolled over to face the older lad. Suddenly, John’s arm was wrapped around Paul’s waist and he was being pulled in toward John. Their noses were practically touching, and both of their eyes were closed as if they were hiding from something.

“Macca,” John whispered so quietly that he almost didn’t hear himself. “Mm?” Paul mumbled, lifting his head slightly so his nose pushed up against John’s. “This is better,” John kept his voice hushed. “Much better,” Paul agreed as John wrapped his other arm under Paul, pulling his body even closer. Soon, their legs were entwined in a web of themselves. Paul rest his forehead against John’s and wrapped his arms slowly around his neck, smiling when he caught scent of John. The familiar leathery, cigarette stained smell that Paul always associated with his friend.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, their lips met. Slowly and lightly, barely touching. Paul couldn’t have asked for a better sleeping arrangement than this. “Paul,” John whispered again, but this time Paul could feel the way John’s lips moved when he said his name. Paul pressed his lips against John’s a bit harder, lightly running his tongue across John’s bottom lip. John slowly pulled away, wide eyed and staring into Paul’s still tired looking eyes.

Paul let out a soft yawn and nuzzled his face into the crook of John’s neck, closing his eyes again. Before he fell asleep, he could’ve sworn he felt a gentle kiss on the top of his head before hearing the words uttered from John’s mouth. But he swore he heard them.

“Je t'aime.”

equalskiersten  asked:

Shidge reuniting after he disappeared pls and thank you <3

Bless u <3 < 3 <3 

Written as part of my 300 Follower Celebration! Requests are currently still open :)

“Hey, Pidge?”

The grunt he gets in response is less-than-encouraging.

Once he’d shaken a worried Allura and Keith and their insistence that he spend some time in the cryopods, he’d taken to scouring the ship for Pidge. She’d disappeared only minutes after he’d stumbled out of the black lion, reassuring the team he was fine, and missed the debrief and Hunk’s grown together but still over-large “Welcome Back Shiro” dinner. She hadn’t been hiding in the lab, or cooped up in her room; he finds her curled in the massive porthole on one of the upper, infrequently visited, viewing decks. She fiddles with something on her data screen and doesn’t look up.

“Pidge, what’s going on?”

Still, no reply. He sees her bite her bottom lip. She jabs the data screen with a shaking finger.

Sighing, Shiro crosses the room and squeezes himself into the leftover porthole space near her feet. Before all of this, his disappearance, his strange and uncontrolled travels through forgotten corners of the universe, he might have hesitated to reach out and rest his hand on her ankle. But he’s travelled through time and space with no promise of return, and the experience has taught him a lot about reservation and regret. Every other thought had been of getting back to her; the eternal void, it seemed, was a stronger motivator than death when it came to sorting out one’s priorities. In the endless hours he’d spent dreaming of their reunion, it hadn’t gone like this.

“So are you just not going to talk to me anymore, Katie?” he tries again.

Her hands still. In the dim glow of her data screen, he can see her brows dip. There’s the faint line of a scar over her left eyebrow, a mark that wasn’t there before. Her hair has started to curl below her chin. How long had he been gone? Coran had said it was somewhere around nine Spicolian movements, but as he takes in the dark circles under her eyes, he wonders if it wasn’t closer to an eternity.

“You know I never meant to leave,” he says. “To leave you.”

He’s not sure how long he’s thought she was lovely, when it was that she stopped being just his friend and teammate, and became something warm and tight in his chest. But she’s lovely now, even as her face buckles; enchanting as her eyes squeeze shut and her lips screw up and she lets out a low sob.

“I thought you’d never come back,” she says, breath hitching. “That you were gone forever, no matter how hard we tried to find you, no matter how many hours I spent looking through every old record on the Black Lion, no matter how many times Allura and Keith and everyone else drove themselves to exhaustion just searching-”

Pidge cuts off and swallows hard. Her eyes flutter open, eyelashes dotted with tears. It’s the first time she’s looked him in the face since he’s gotten back, and he feels it like an electric pulse straight to the chest.

“I thought you’d never come back,” she says again.

Shiro lets go of her ankle and leans in to pull her into his arms. She doesn’t resist, dropping her data screen and falling against his chest. She throws her arms around him.

“I’m here,” he murmurs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again.”

“When it finally sunk in that you were gone,” she says, voice muffled, “I realized that I’d never told you how much I care about you. Never said that- that I love you. I’d wasted all that time and then poof. You were gone and you didn’t know and there was nothing I could do to fix it.”

The physical effects of interdimensional teleportation have nothing on the way his body lights up now, molten hot and heavy. His gut gives a pleasant plunge, and his breath catches in his throat. Shiro tightens his grip on her, but it’s still not close enough.


“No, let me finish, Shiro,” she says, voice strengthening. “I spent every tick of every Spicolian movement wondering what would have been different if I’d just said something. And then, like magic - like fucking *space magic* - you tumble out of the Black Lion like no time has passed, like we’re right back where we left off. The very first thing I wanted to do was say something, anything, but I’m such a fucking coward I just couldn’t, and it made me so angry that I just, I had to leave. I couldn’t stand even looking at you.”

Her chest heaves against his as she sucks in short, labored breaths. Gently, he places a hand under her chin.

“Can you stand to look at me now?” he asks.

She nods, and he tips her head up. Red-rimmed brown eyes meet his. Pidge breathes hard through parted lips, and it’s these lips he meets with his own. They’re softer than even he’d expected, wet and salt-tinged with tears, and Shiro decides in that moment that he wants to kiss her for the rest of his life, however long that may be. He needs to savor every possible texture and flavor that her mouth might give. Just this once will never be enough.

Shiro pulls away just a fraction, far enough to look her in the eyes.

“I love you too” he whispers. “Regardless of what happens from this point on, I love you.”

With a shaky chuckle, Pidge slides a hand behind his neck and brings him in for what he hopes will be the second of many, many kisses. They do, after all, have a lot of unspoken time to make up for.

anonymous asked:

Concept: link and revali braiding each other's hair (is that hair in revali's braids?? Idk rito anatomy??). Revali acts like he has the Superior Braiding Method And Skills (again idk how w/ rito anatomy) but revali is still just secretly loving having his braided by link

Addition to the braiding ask: link comes back to rito village after some adventuring, clearly disheveled, but the braids are still nearly perfect, bc he cares so much about the work revali put into it. Of course revali has Something to say about the few stray hairs, but also recognizes how much link cares and feels Honored, even if he doesn’t show it

Revali hasn’t told Link yet, probably never will, but braiding each other’s hair in Rito culture is considered sort of…intimate. Like, the sort of thing only lovers do.

Keep reading


Oh my gosh! here it is, we have been waiting for this episode flutter cord shippers! 

Originally posted by lifetimetv

On Equestria Daily, we finally got the synopses for a season 7 episode called 

“DISCORDANT HARMONY” This is episode 12! and here is the description of the episode. 

“When Discord invites Fluttershy to his realm for tea, he worries she won’t be comfortable there and begins to change it and himself with disastrous results.”

*fluttercord fans wake up”

Originally posted by zelderonmorningstar

Is this a call back to the MLP comic, remember? The one where Discord changes himself and becomes Accord!

Will we see a reference from this? Maybe? maybe not? I don’t know but I’m going to go on a guess on what might happen in this episode. 


*others* :I’m sure its not a-! *quickly muffled by a handkerchief*


so I’m thinking that it might start with Discord planning to have tea in FLuttershy’s house, as usual, but I’m thinking something happened that made him “invite” her. Maybe, they get interrupted or maybe Fluttershy took too many animals in and its crowded and she says that they might have to cancel but Discord just non-chalantly replies that she can come to his realm. I mean, if the mail pony could get there maybe fluttershy can? I don’t know, is there a portal? 

So she accepts and Discord cheers and poofs back to his realm, but then when he notice how “chaotic” it is compared to Fluttershy’s house, he might become self- conscious, I mean didn’t a monster took the mail-pony away that one time during the gala? He might be nervous about Fluttershy being uncomfortable in his place, kinda like a guy bringing his “friend” over and seeing his messy room? hmmmmmmmmmmmmm…..

I’m sure he will actually start cleaning and making it become “orderly”, but, at the same time, repressing his chaotic nature which could be the “disastrous result” or maybe by trying to keep it in order, the chaos comes out or makes it worse, or something like that. 

I am very, very excited for this episode! we haven’t gotten a “fluttercord” based episode since “keep calm and flutter on” where only Fluttershy and Discord interacted without any pony else, not the mane 5, not spike and Big Mac, not treehugger, and not starlight and Trixie. Just fluttershy and Discord. SO for the people who made this episode happen….

This is it! More fluttercord! Ahhhhhhh I cannot wait for this episode! THIS WILL BE A GOOD EPISODE! I can feel it!   

anonymous asked:

For the oneshot thing, maybe something about young Wilford and young Dark just having a rare day where they get along and just cause chaos for random pedestrians? Or something like that idk

(So this is what happens when I watch a show about haunted houses…)

Dark tosses a dart at the picture of Mark and sighs dramatically. “I’m so bored,” he groans as Wilford wanders into the room with two mugs of hot cocoa in his hands and a lampshade on his head.

“No kidding,” Wilford mutters, handing Dark one of the mugs and plopping down onto the couch without spilling a drop. He takes a sip of his cocoa, leaving whipped cream all over his mustache and nose. “I wanna break stuff and maybe steal everyone’s left shoe. Can we do that?”

Dark pinches the bridge of his nose and creates another dart between his fingers to toss at the picture of Mark. “I’m going to need a better plan than that, Will.”

Wilford pouts before he tilts the lampshade back away from his eyes, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, I have an idea, and you’re going to like this one…”

Mark is in the middle of recording when all the power in the house cuts off at once. He throws off his headphones in frustration and goes to find the breaker box. He tries to switch the power back on, but nothing happens. He wanders back inside, looking around and finding that the furniture has moved into a single pyramid.

Mark backs up slowly into a hooded figure who is cold to the touch and looming over him. Mark screams and runs for his room, locking the door behind him, only to find that everything in the bedroom has been transferred to the ceiling. Something starts banging on Mark’s door, and Chica whines at Mark from her corner. “Come here, Chica. Come here!”

Chica runs over and practically tackles Mark. The banging on the door stops suddenly, and the lights come back on. Mark opens the door a crack to find that the hooded figure has disappeared. Chica licks Mark’s face until he pets her and calms down. “I don’t know what that was, bub, but I have a feeling a certain pair of Egos were involved…”

Somewhere outside, Dark throws back the hood of the grim reaper costume and Wilford cleans the super glue off of his fingers. They poof back to their house, cackling and hugging their sides.

Where Is Thomas Jefferson?

kinda rushed, not proofread. oh well. day one. @jamiltonweek


“Welcome back to CNN. Breaking news out of France: Gilbert Durand’s claim of being the reincarnation of the Marquis de Lafayette, American Revolutionary war hero, has been confirmed by the French Department of Reincarnated Peoples. He has asked to be referred to simply as Lafayette from here on forward. Rumors that Lafayette has teamed up with Friedrich Von Steuben to promote accurate depictions of LGBT history are surfacing, and a recent twitter post from Steuben seems to confirm them, though nothing is proven.

“The Steuben Initiative has been given extreme support from reincarnate Alexander Hamilton, formerly Alex Hernandez, after he revealed the he is bisexual. He claims to not have changed his sexual orientation from his original life. Other famous figures from history have been more hesitant to support Steuben, though the Initiative has been gaining steam of late.

“The list of household names from the American Revolution still unfound is dwindling, but the search for the remaining few people is as strong as the day it started. Washington, Adams, Franklin, Madison, and many of the more famous names have been found and confirmed. But one man still eludes the public, and he will be the topic of tonight’s special:

“Where Is Thomas Jefferson?”


“Name?” Thomas asks, a sharpie in one hand and a cup in another. The latino man at the counter smirks.

“You know who I am,” he says. Thomas stifles a sigh.

“I’m sorry sir, but I need your name,” he says, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

“My name is whatever your number is,” the customer says, flashing what he must think is a flirtatious look.

“Your name, sir. Please,” Thomas says through a gritted smile. The man rolls his eyes and stands up from where he was leaning on the counter.

“Hamilton,” he says. Thomas nods, scribbling the name down on the coffee cup.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he says, turning away to hand the cup to his coworker, Kyle. He can feel Hamilton’s eyes on his ass and he has to resist the urge to call him out on it. Kyle shoots him a sympathetic look as he brews Hamilton’s triple espresso. As Hamilton walks away to a table, Thomas lets out a breath.

He’d be annoyed if Hamilton’s flirting didn’t drive him so goddamned crazy.

Thomas just had to have chosen the one coffee shop in all of New York Hamilton liked better than any other to work in. Thomas wasn’t even supposed to be here, he was supposed to be a young, hot-shot lawyer rising the ranks at a blinding speed. Had he stayed in Virginia, he might have been just that. But Thomas couldn’t stay in Virginia, not if looking around at the rolling farmland made him feel as guilty as it did.

So to New York he went, only to find that no one wanted to hire a no-name Virginian law student. And here he was, a barista in the morning, a waiter in the afternoon and a bartender ar night. It was hell, but it had been fine until Hamilton walked back into his life. The universe couldn’t just let him atone for his crimes in peace, could it?

The bell signaling the door opening rang, and Thomas plastered a smile back on his face. He turned around to greet the new customer. “Hi, welcome to-”

“Laf!” Hamilton exclaims.  The new customer- tall, dark skinned with hair pulled back in a bun- turns in the short man’s direction and beams.

“Mon petit lion,” he breathes. Hamilton rockets from his seat and throws his arms around Lafayette’s middle. The taller man stumbles back under the force of Hamilton’s hug, but keeps his feet. For a moment, both men simply stand in the middle of the cafe in a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” Hamilton breathes. Lafayette chuckles.

“How did you recognize me?” Lafayette’s accent is much thinner this time around, Thomas notices, much easier to understand. Hamilton pulls back and grins up at the man.

“You’ve been on tv, you dolt. Come on, then. We gotta talk.” Hamilton grabs Lafayette by the wrist and tries to pull him back to the table Hamilton had chosen.

“I have to order, no?” Lafayette motions in Thomas’ direction. Thomas, the customer service smile still stretched across his face, suddenly feels a pang of fear. Hamilton huffs good naturedly, and lets Lafayette go. Lafayette rolls his eyes and turns back to Thomas.

“My apologies. My friend can be very excitable,” Lafayette says.

Oh I know, Thomas thinks. Out loud he says. “It’s alright sir. What can I get you today?” As Lafayette rambles off his order- something really complicated and full of caramel- Thomas tries to keep his head down as much as possible. Hamilton had never recognized him, thank god, but Lafayette was a different beast. Thomas had actually been friends with Lafayette. No matter that Thomas looked nothing like he used to.

Lafayette finishes his order and Thomas nearly forgets to ask him his name before automatically scribbling it down on the cup. Thomas stutters as he rushes the question, trying to cover for his mistake.

“Laf is fine,” Lafayette says. Thomas nods and writes the nickname down, shoving the cup in Kyle’s direction just as Kyle hands him Hamilton’s completed order.

“Hamilton,” Thomas calls out into the cafe.

“I’m right here,” Hamilton says, still standing right beside Lafayette. “You really think they’d start to remember regulars,” he grumbles to Laf in French. Thomas grits his jaw, his knowledge of languages having survived the reincarnation. Lafayette sighs and says something back, but Thomas doesn’t want to hear.

Once a stuck up shit, always a stuck up shit, Thomas thinks to himself, but it’s not completely without a fondness to it. Hamilton takes his drink from Thomas. Like always, Hamilton lets his hand brush Thomas’ and Thomas jerks his hand away like he’s been burned. Hamilton rolls his eyes and takes a drink, lips wrapping around the straw. Thomas swallows and turns away, fumbling around with one of the blenders like he’s actually working and not drowning in his own emotions.

“Come on, Laf,” Hamilton says. “Sit while they make your shit.” This time, Lafayette lets himself get led away, but not before shooting an apologetic look in Thomas direction. Thomas watches them go, Hamilton already rambling about something.

Thomas watches their conversation out of the corner of his eye, Lafayette looks excited, overjoyed to be reunited with his old friend. A ball of sadness lodges in Thomas’ stomach. Laf probably hates me now, he thinks. Everyone would. So he tries not to get caught sneaking glances at two of the most important men from his last life.

When he calls for Lafayette, the Frenchman comes up to the counter with the same easy grace he always had. When Thomas hands him his drink, he give Thomas a little knowing smile. Thomas stomach plummets, but Lafayette doesn’t say anything, just skips away back to Hamilton.

Thomas glances at the clock, ten minutes until he’s off. He breathes a sigh of relief and busies himself cleaning the countertop until the phone in his pocket buzzes. Silently cheering, Thomas runs in the back and drops off his apron. He collects his stuff quickly, tearing his poof of hair out of the hat and shaking it out. He leaves the back room just as his replacement comes in and Thomas waves goodbye to her and Kyle both.

Bag slung over one shoulder, Thomas speedwalks through the cafe, trying not look over at-

“Hey! Wait a moment!” Lafayette calls and Thomas stumbles over his own feet. He bites his lip, eyeing the front door. He doesn’t have to go over there, he really doesn’t. He can leave, no problem. “Please, just come over for a second, yes?”

It’s Lafayette, Thomas’ brain says, and Thomas sighs. He changes course, coming over to stand by the two men’s table. “If you want something, I’m off the clock,” Thomas informs them, frowning. Lafayette shakes his head.

“Alexander has something to ask you,” he purrs, looking at Hamilton with both eyebrows raised. Hamilton coughs and shifts in his seat. Thomas looks at him curiously, wanting to be anywhere but here. He catches himself staring at the man’s eyes and tries to look anywhere else.

“I uh, wanted to know,” Hamilton takes a breath, “wou-why are you such a dick?” He says, words rushing to cover up something else. Thomas starts, feeling his face arrange itself in a familiar wall of disgust. Lafayette jerks, surprise flooding his features. Hamilton keeps talking, words flooding out of his mouth like they always did. “I mean, I know you recognize me every day. I get it if you don’t like me, but why?”

“You don’t impress me,” Thomas replies, the first reason that pops to his head that won’t immediately out him. Hamilton’s brows furrow, then a look of understanding crosses his face.

“Ah, you’re one of those, are you?”

“One of who?” Thomas asks.

Hamilton scoffs. “‘It doesn’t matter who you were,’’ he mocks. “‘It only matters who you are.’ One of those people. Full of bullshit.”

“Mon ami,” Lafayette says, voice full of warning and concern. Hamilton rolls his eyes.

“You know it’s bullshit. People who say that are just jealous they never managed to do anything with their last lives.”

Lafayette’s lips purse. “Well, I’m sure his last life was perfectly good. I’m sure you were wonderful,” he says, looking up at Thomas hopefully. Thomas levels him with a glare.

“I was a slave plantation owner,” he says. Lafayette blinks, Hamilton chokes on his coffee.

“Jesus,” the shorter man coughs. “That’s not usually something people just admit.” Hamilton looks at Thomas with wide eyes. Thomas sighs.

“Yes, well, it’s true and normally gets people to shut up and leave me alone,” he says pointedly. Lafayette looks ashamed, and looks down at the table. Hamilton’s jaw grinds, and it looks like he’s about to say something, but Thomas takes this as his cue to get the hell out of there. He spins on one heel and takes off, heading for the door. He hears them start to mutter to each other in French.

“A slave owner, Laf,” Hamilton sighs.

“Well, he seems pretty repentant…” Laf trails. “It’s okay, my friend. You’ll win him in the end. You always managed to get everyone in the end.”

“Everybody but one.”

Thomas doesn’t hear anything else, just listens to his own footsteps as he starts the multi-block journey to his second job.


“You have got to be kidding me,” Thomas mutters, catching a glimpse of the group that just walked in the door. Hamilton approaches the hostess, but Thomas is too far away to hear what he’s saying. He watches, holding his breath, as Jenna pulls out three menus and leads Hamilton, Lafayette and the new addition to their group through the restaurant.

Of course she seats them right in the middle of Thomas’ tables. Just fuck me, Thomas thinks. God strike me down now. Lilly passes him with a tray of drinks and he tries to get her to take the Hamilton table, but she’s full up and Thomas has nothing to trade. So he putters about, trying to delay the inevitable. But time is passing and Hamilton is starting to look a little antsy, so Thomas bites the bullet.

“Hi, welcome to Lewis and Clark’s, my name is Thomas and I’ll be your server for today.” The usual greeting comes out in a rush. Thomas fiddles with his pen and tries not to make eye-contact. Maybe they won’t recognize him. Maybe-

“Well, look at this. It’s the unimpressed barisa!” Hamilton exclaims. Thomas stifles a groan.

“Can I get you started with some drinks?” He asks, just wanting it to be over. Out of all the cosmic punishments Thomas deserves, this is not one of them.

“Lemme introduce you to James Madison,” Hamilton says, jerking his head at the third person at the table. Thomas blinks, looking up but having to hold back his excitement. It is James alright, the new James that’s still sickly and quiet looking. Hamilton chuckles at Thomas’ expression. “Impressed yet?”

Thomas fights to keep his face neutral, but being this close to Jemmy is making it difficult. James looks at him like he’s a complete stranger, which is fair, Thomas supposes, but it hurts. Instead, he clears his throat.

“Would you like something to drink? Or perhaps you’re ready to order?” He says tersely.

“James Madison, you know,” Hamilton drawls. “Fourth President of these United States? Wrote the Constitution?” Thomas breathes through his smile, just about ready to reach over and tear Hamilton’s face off.

“Let it go, Hamilton,” James breaks in, his voice just as quiet and stoic as Thomas remembers. “We’re here to discuss things.”

Hamilton frowns at him “But-”

“If you spend the entire time messing with our poor waiter, we won’t get anything done,” James says. Hamilton grumbles something and settles into his seat. Lafayette just gives Thomas another apologetic looks as they order drinks.

Thomas practically jogs away from their table, and wastes as much time as possible doing the rounds to his other tables. When he finally runs out of things to do, he drags his feet getting their sodas and bringing them to the three. As he gets closer, he can hear their conversation.

“…only wish we could find Thomas,” James sighs. Thomas swallows, feeling his chest tighten.

“Your drinks, sirs,” he says, handing Lafayette a cherry cola. He nods his thanks as Hamilton scoffs.

“Jefferson? What makes you think he’d support the Initiative?” He asks. “Of all people.”

“Yes, Hamilton.” James nods. “I don’t know about Lafayette, but I remember certain interesting conversations with Thomas.” Laf nods as Hamilton’s eyes go wide.

“Jefferson?” He asks. James nods again. Thomas tries not to glare at him as he puts down the last drink, his hands starting to shake. Lafayette looks at him in concern, but Thomas busies himself by pulling out his notepad again.

“He’d support the Initiative.”

“What if he wants to ‘protect his reputation?’”

“Thomas Jefferson has no reputation to protect, his current one people respect is based on half-truths and he should be remembered for the lying, hypocritical slave-owning cheating bastard he was.” Thomas clicks his pen, the men at the table gone silent and looking at him in shock. “Can I take your order?”

Thomas watches all three of them process what he just said. Lafayette looks like he can’t quite believe what he just heard, James looks mildly upset, but Hamilton is pissed. His face turns a familiar bright red and he scowls.

“How fucking dare you?” Hamilton spits. Thomas cocks one eyebrow, as if urging Hamilton to argue, but he’s honestly curious as to why Hamilton looks this angry. “Thomas Jefferson was one of the smartest men I ever knew.”

“Just because he was smart doesn’t mean he was a decent person,” Thomas counters. “What would you like for lunch?” Hamilton hits the table, causing the cups and silverware to rattle slightly.

“Look, Jefferson might have had some backwards ideas, owned slaves and been a general obstructionist bastard-” ah, there’s the truth, Hamilton, Thomas thinks, “-but he was also a great writer and debater and really wanted the best for his country so you can fuck off.”

Hamilton is on the verge of hyperventilating in anger, and Thomas can’t quite believe what he’s just heard. Hamilton, complimenting him? They look at each other in silence, each seemingly daring the other to speak again.

“I’ll take the reuben,” James says. Thomas breaks his staring contest with Hamilton to smile and nod. He scratches James’ order down and Lafayette follows, ordering for Hamilton when the shorter man won’t speak.

The rest of Thomas’ shift passes quietly, Hamilton glaring whenever Thomas draws near and Thomas never staying long enough to start up an argument. But something in him wants to, wants to have one last full-blown debate with Hamilton, just one last time. Like the old days, back before Thomas got a second life and realized what a piece of shit he’d been the first time around.

Hamilton doesn’t tip, but James leaves him enough to cover for it.


Thomas takes over for the last bartender, throwing a rag over his shoulder and getting into the right mindset to do his job. No more mulling over Hamilton or Laf or James. Just make some drunk people some more drinks and get out of here. Thomas manages to lose himself in the mixing of countless cocktails and pouring of beer. Some guy rambles to him about his ex-girlfriend, and Thomas pretends to care, but just lets the guy talk.

Thomas has made it halfway through his shift when he looks up and sees George Washington walk in. It’s not unusual, Washington likes this bar enough to come in regularly enough. Thomas actually doesn’t mind. He likes talking to Washington, the old general is one of the few reincarnates that doesn’t make everything about his old life.

Thomas smile falls as he watches James, Laf and Hamilton file in behind Washington. Washington leads the group over to the bar and Thomas turns around to compose himself. He lets out a breath. Today just doesn’t end, does it? He makes Washington his usual and turns around just in time to meet him.

“Thanks, Thomas,” Washington says, taking the glass of whiskey. “Get these boys whatever they like and put it on my bill.” Thomas nods, and looks down the line. When he gets to Hamilton, he scowl and look of sheer anger catches Thomas a little off guard.

“Are you serious?” Hamilton hisses. Thomas nods, shooting him a little smile. Washington looks at Hamilton questioningly, and James looks like he’s already developing a headache.

“This is the asshole who insulted Jefferson, sir!” Hamilton exclaims, pointing at Thomas. Washington looks back at Thomas, who shrugs.

“I simply spoke my mind about the man.” Thomas looks at Hamilton dead on. “Now, I’m only going to ask you once this time. What would you like to drink?” Hamilton looks like he’s about to burst into another rant, but just spits a request for a bottle of Sam Adams. The four men settle onto bar stools and get to talking. Thomas tries not to listen, but he’s too curious.

The conversation turns to Steuben’s Institute again: Madison, Laf and Hamilton all begging Washington to throw his support behind it. Washington is simply listening in silence. All three men argue the same points, and it’s starting to grate on Thomas’ nerves. It almost sounds like an old cabinet meeting, but there’s no opposing viewpoint, no debate being had.

I can rectify that, Thomas thinks, and his mouth is already working before he can talk himself out of it.

“With all due respect,” he begins, “the Steuben Initiative is nothing but a way to get a few individuals recognized for being a ‘minority’ during a time when no one but straight white men were in power. It’s a cheap gimmick to get sympathy for people who shouldn’t have any.” Thomas continues to wipe down the counter, but he sees all four heads snap in his direction. “Furthermore, Friedrich Von Steuben is a known liar and historically bad with money. The Initiative will be bankrupt within a month.”

“You sure talk a big game for someone who works three minimum wage jobs,” Hamilton fires back. “Steuben is a hero and a symbol for the gay community. If there is any person who should be the face of it, it’s him. The only other names- Achilles, Sappho, Alexander the Great, Oscar Wilde- have either died a second time or haven’t been reborn yet. And the Initiative is not a ‘cheap gimmick.’ Historical figures who were not cisgender or heterosexual but would have been shamed at the time of their life or lives deserve the recognition!”

“Deserve the recognition now that it’s socially acceptable to be out, and not actually when it would have perhaps done something good for the gay community.” Thomas doesn’t believe a goddamned word he’s saying but oh, he’s having fun. He can feel the familiar feeling of adrenaline thrumming in his veins. And Hamilton, Hamilton, he looks gorgeous like his. Riled up and passionate.

“It would do wonders for the gay community! Having proof that people have always been something other than straight and cis is amazing! Imagine being a gay youth and being able to look in a history book and point out people like you that actually did something with their lives.”

“Imagine doing that for the African American community, or the Asian American community, or any other minority group in this country!”

“Oh, so because we’re not focused on racial minorities, we shouldn’t get anything? We aren’t just focused on white historical figures. POC LGBT people are just as represented. You’d know that if you actually knew anything about the Initiative. As it stands, you’re a minimum wage worker who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And the racial minorities argument is even funnier coming from an ex-slave owner.”

Thomas stops, his hand freezing on the counter where he was halfway through making Lafayette a refill. He looks up at Hamilton. “I’ll let you know I have a law degree from UVA. And I actually support the Initiative, how could I not? I’m just doing my job, Hamilton. What I’ve always done: argue with you.” The words fall out before Thomas realizes what he’s saying. Hamilton’s face falls into one of confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. Thomas swallows.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Forget I said anything.” Thomas finished Laf’s drink and goes to walk to the other end of the bar. Hamilton lunges over the counter and grabs a hold of Thomas.

“Alex, what are you doing!” Laf exclaims. Hamilton grits his jaw and ignores him.

“What do you mean, ‘what you’ve always done?’” He repeats, asking the question through gritted teeth. Thomas kicks himself, realizing that he’s gone and ruined everything.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Let go of me, okay? It doesn’t matter.” He tries to tug his hand free but Hamilton holds on. His eyes are searching Thomas’ face, and the sight of them sends pangs of longing through Thomas. Then, Hamilton’s eyes go wide in understanding.

“A slave owner who ‘always fought with me,” he breathes. Thomas winces, shutting his eyes and waiting for it. “Thomas Jefferson,” Hamilton says.

“What?” James asks.

“Thomas motherfucking Jefferson!” Hamilton exclaims, something akin to joy in his voice. “You everloving asshole!”

“Yes, yes, be proud of yourself Hamilton. Let go of my arm, would you?” Thomas grumbles. Finally Hamilton complies, and instantly Thomas misses the physical connection.

“Thomas?” Lafayette asks, as if he still doesn’t quite believe it. Reluctantly, Thomas nods. Laf’s face lights up, a grin spreading across his face.

“I can’t believe you never said anything! I’ve been going to that cafe for months!” Hamilton bounces in his seat, and Thomas can’t help but find it endearing.

“You’ve been flirting with me for months too,” Thomas reminds him. Instantly Hamilton’s expression of happiness falls, only to be replaced with embarrassment and anger.

“I’ve been flirting with Thomas Jefferson,” he mutters, dumbstruck and seemingly disgusted. Lafayette breaks out into laughter. Washington looks slightly amused, glancing between the two of them with an odd look.

James coughs. “Thomas, if it’s really you,” he says, “explain what you meant by what you said about yourself at the restaurant.”

Thomas freezes, and suddenly the mood turns more somber. Lafayette stops laughing and all four sets of eyes are on Thomas. “I…” he hesitates, “I realized that I was a piece of human garbage last time I was alive,” he says simply. Hamilton stares at him, eyes bugging out of his head. Thomas suddenly feels uncomfortable. “Well, it was great seeing you four,” he says. “I’m going to tell my boss I’m ill and go home. Then, I’m going to quit my three jobs and move far far away from all of you.”

Hamilton blinks. “What? Why?!”

Thomas sighs, throwing the towel in his hands under the counter. “I’ve been avoiding the spotlight for twenty six years. I’m not coming forward and associating with any of you is not going to help me stay under the radar.”

“You? Avoiding attention?” Hamilton looks completely dumbstruck. Thomas nods.

“I told you, I was horrible. I don’t want to be celebrated, not when people forget about the awful shit I did. So why don’t you just let me live my life in peace?”

With that, Thomas slides out from behind the bar and walks back into the kitchen. He makes up some lie for his manager about being ill and clocks out. His manager takes his spot behind the bar, and Thomas slips out the back door. He doesn’t want to risk walking through the bar proper. Who knows what Hamilton will do.

Thomas walks out into the night air and heads around the building. A plan is already forming in his head. Call tomorrow off, apartment hunt… in Boston. Boston, or maybe somewhere out west. Yeah, I’ll go out west. Thomas leaves the sidewalk by the bar and starts to cross the parking lot. He just needs to get out of here-

“Thomas! Wait!” Hamilton calls from somewhere behind him. Thomas groans and picks up the pace, power walking away from the shorter man. He hears footsteps approaching from behind and Thomas nearly breaks out into a jog. “Thomas, just hold on a moment.”

“Go away Alexander,” Thomas mutters. He’s almost to the other side of the lot now.

“No, Thomas. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Thomas whirls on him, startling Hamilton who is almost too close to stop in time. He jumps backwards to avoid hitting Thomas straight on.

“About… about you!” Hamilton exclaims. Thomas raises one eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Hamilton. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or myself, thanks.” Thomas takes a few steps backwards, hoping Hamilton won’t follow, that he’ll let Thomas go on his merry way.

“Look, Thomas, we need you.” Hamilton does follow, jogging slightly to keep up with Thomas’ long stride. He’s just as short as always. “Think about it! All the major founding fathers supporting one cause! We’ve already got Monroe and-”

“I don’t want to tell the world I’m the hypocritical fuck known as Thomas Jefferson.”

Hamilton huffs. “We all did shitty things. We do sitty things. We’re fucking human. You want a good example of a piece of shit, you’ve got one right here!” Hamilton motions up and down his body. “You do remember the Pamphlet, yeah?”

Thomas stops, feeling his fists clench at his sides. “That was my fault,” he admits. Hamilton shakes his head.

“It’s far from your fault. You didn’t make me cheat on Betsy and you didn’t make me publish the damn thing.”

“If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in myself, I wouldn’t have pushed you that far!” Thomas protests. Hamilton makes an exasperated noise.

“We were all wrapped up in ourselves,” Hamilton points out. “Everyone but Washington, seems like.”

For a second, they just stand there, looking at one another. Thomas sighs, and shakes his head. “Hamilton, I said no.”


“Thanks, but no thanks.” Thomas goes to turn around, but remembers one last thing. “Tell James ‘thanks’ for outing me by the way. Really appreciate that,” he mutters. And then he takes off again, stepping up the curb and onto the sidewalk. He doesn’t hear Hamilton chase him, and he thinks he’s in the clear. He turns to make his way down the street and catches a glimpse of Hamilton standing in the middle of the lot by himself. He’s looking at his fists, glaring at them like he’s trying to convince himself to punch himself in the face. Then he looks up.

“One last thing!” He calls. Thomas stops, lets out a breath, and turns to face the man.

“What, Hamilton?” He calls back. Hamilton opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again as he takes off across the parking lot. There’s determination in every quick step he takes to Thomas.

“If you’re really going to leave, and I’m never going to see you again,” Hamilton begins, “there’s just one thing I need to do first.”

Thomas feels his brow furrowing, confusion spreading across his face. Hamilton just power walks as quickly as possible, right up into Thomas’ personal space. Before Thomas can step back or ask Hamilton what this is about, Hamilton grabs Thomas’ face in both hands, pops up on his toes, and kisses him.

Thomas’ eyes widen before sliding shut as he leans into it. Hamilton gasps underneath him and Thomas slides his hand into Hamilton’s smooth hair and finally, finally, gets the chance to do what he’s been wanting to do for a very long time. They stand there, together, on the street corner, breaking apart only for quick breaths.

“You everloving asshole,” Hamilton breathes when they finally run out of steam. They sit there, faces still so impossibly close. Thomas chuckles.

“Never thought that would ever happen,” Thomas admits. Hamilton falls back onto the flats of his feet and wraps his arms around Thomas.

“You were the one person I never had, but I wanted you the most,” Hamilton says, and Thomas’ breath catches in his throat. Slowly, as if in a dream, Thomas returns the hug. “Stay?” Hamilton asks, looking up at Thomas. “Just for a while. I… I won’t make you tell anyone who you are.”

Thomas looks down at Hamilton, the one man he had always said no to, and says yes.

Hamilton’s eyes light up and Thomas’ heart leaps at the sight. He leans down for another kiss, only to be interrupted by a cough. Both Thomas and Hamilton look up to find Lafayette, Madison and Washington standing in the lot.

“You were taking a very long time. We were…” Laf trails, eyes shining in wicked joy. “Worried something had happened.”

“Something certainly did happen, I’d say,” James interjects. Thomas chuckles but catches sight of Washington’s stony expression. Instantly, he freezes. Washington blinks, and then breaks out into a smile.

“It took you boys two hundred years. I’m not saying anything.”

Hamilton blinks, then starts to laugh, his shoulders shake in Thomas’ arms and Thomas squeezes tighter.

Thomas Jefferson was found in a bar parking lot, holding Alexander Hamilton in his arms.

Gabrielle [Part 1] (Gabriel x Reader)

Originally posted by lucifersagents

A/N: Hello! *waves* 😀 So…

I’M ALIVE!!! 😁😁😁

It feels like it has been forever since I’ve posted an actual one-shot/two-shot. College is insane and is taking up a lot of my time. And I also happen to be kinda planning out a whole new fanfic. So that’s also something that’s been taking up my time.

I’m actually sorta procrastinating on doing homework right now, but I wrote this a few months back and never posted it. So, I thought I’d go ahead and do that now. :)


Enjoy! 😘

“Are we almost there, mommy?” Y/N’s seven and a half year old daughter, Gabrielle, asked as they were riding in the car.

Y/N smiled as she drove an old classic cherry red Cadillac. It was one they had found in the Bunker garage, and it was also one that had become Gabrielle’s favorite. She loved its cherry red color.

Y/N glanced in the rearview mirror to see her daughter looking at her. “Yes, sweetie, we’re almost there. Did you have fun staying at auntie Bess and uncle Garth’s?”

Gabrielle nodded, smiling. “Yeah! Auntie Bess said that the next time we come over that i can help pick out a name for the baby.”

Y/N smiled at that as she pressed a button on the garage remote, making the Bunker’s sizable garage door begin to slide open.

It didn’t take long before Y/N was parking the car next to the oh-so familiar 1967 black Chevy Impala.

“I guess the boys aren’t out on a hunt.” Y/N thought to herself as she got out of the car and began to help Gabrielle out of the back seat. Y/N had taken Gabrielle and gone off and stayed at Bess and Garth’s for a few months while the boys tried to finish sorting out the whole Casifer and Darkness business. The deciding factor that had made Y/N decide to take off with Gabrielle had been when the boys had tried to exorcise Lucifer from Cas. When Amara had taken him hostage was when Y/N and the boys had decided that getting Gabrielle away from all the conflict was probably the best and safest decision. After somewhere around four and a half months, Y/N and Gabrielle were finally coming back home to the bunker because Dean had finally called and said that everything was finally done and over with.

He wouldn’t give her much more information than that. Just that she could come back and that everything would be explained better.

“Here you go, Gabby.” Y/N said as she handed her a small backpack from the trunk.

Once Y/N got all the rest of the bags, she and Gabrielle made their way over to the small staircase that led from the garage and up into the Bunker itself.

“Sam! Dean! We’re home!” Y/N called out to them as they walked to the entrance that led into the war room from the hallway. “Please te–”

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Dating a Vampire [a Barry Allen AU]

Request: Hiya! Can you do a Barry x Reader where he is a vampire and the reader is his human girlfriend and instead of it being really serious like Edward and Bella, it’s really innocent and cute (ex: Barry getting her to help clean his fangs, calling his fangs “pearly whites”, the reader getting him to ‘vampire speed’ to her favorite Chinese restaurant and pick up dinner, Barry turning into a bat and pouting on the dresser when he’s mad and the reader forcing him to come to bed, etc.)?

a/n: i was thinking the song ‘Vampire’ by Lazyboy Empire PLEASE RETWEET/SHARE MY VIDEO [x] <- instagram

One thing that Barry still has to get used to is being in a relationship. Let’s just say, a vampire in a relationship is nothing like Twilight. At all. It’s not that serious. It’s not that dramatic. It’s almost like every normal, human, relationship. Almost. Minus the immortal part.

The feeding is what he’s still getting used to. Unlike most, Barry doesn’t suck other people’s blood; he always thought it was gross, you know, like, who knows where that person’s been? So, Cisco bags the blood, stores it in water bottles, puts it in his jelly, etc. Most of the time, he prefers sinking his fangs into the bags; it’s almost like a neck. Just not…skin.

He tries to do this when you aren’t home; it’s kinda embarrassing when his teeth are stained red. Humming, his elbows are propped up on the table, fangs indenting the blood bag, lips sucking, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. The keys jingle outside the door but he ignores it. He’s so hungry.

When you walk into the apartment, his dark green eyes lock with yours for a millisecond before he transforms into a bat, disappearing. “Barr!” you scream, more worried about the mess he left. From above the fridge, he pouts, blood still dripping down his chin. “At least come finish the bag.” you mumble, going to set the groceries down.

There’s a poof and he is back in the chair, gray Henley stained with red droplets. Barry blushes, fangs still out; the downside of them is they don’t retract if he’s hungry. “Sorry…” he mumbles, tongue running across his teeth in attempt to clean them. “I’m almost done.” he promises, picking up the plastic bag and puncturing his fangs into it.

Laughing slightly, you listen to the little moans coming from him as he feeds. The grocery bag ruffles as you reach in, yanking out a toothbrush. “I got you another toothbrush for your pearly whites!” you grin, beginning to peel the small box open. He hums against the bag, red liquid dripping off his chin. “So when you’re done, I’ll help you clean them.” you shrug, putting away boxes of cereal.

With one last gulp, the plastic is empty and he sighs in content, shoulders slumping. Licking his ruby lips, his tongue pokes one of his fangs. “What’re you gonna eat for dinner, love?” he frowns, standing up to dispose of the bag. “Oh! I can speed to that Chinese restaurant you like?” he beams, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You wipe his face with a napkin, smiling softly. You love Barry. Your sweatshirt rides up your side as you finish dabbing the corner of his mouth. “That would be amazing and I love you. Just let me brush your teeth first.” you mumble, leading him to the bathroom.

He puffs his cheeks out, “Fine.”

AOS Fic: and we are home

Originally posted by autumncozy

My response to @goingknowherewastaken‘s birthday challenge. Happy 21st, Katie! <3

McKirk, ‘cause it’s always McKirk.

“Get in, loser,” Nyota smirks through the drivers’ side window.

Jim picks himself up off the dirty curbside, feeling every bit as dejected as he looks.

Ny reads it in his face. “What happened, Jim?” she asks as Jim slides into the passenger seat with a disappointed scowl. “I thought you had enough money not to let this happen to you.”

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New Addition

Originally posted by middleearthsource

Originally posted by sasuke-thelast

Summary: The cats get a new addition

Pairings: Thorin x Elf!Reader

Words: 1038

Master List - Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4

Spin off of The Elf and the Dwarf

“Lass?” You hear as you step around the throne with Gandalf’s staff,”where’s Thorin? Or Balin? Or Fili for that matter?”

You give a small smile to Dwalin. 

You had told Frerin to stay in the room to watch the cats. Thorin had tried to follow you but you closed the door before he had a chance to get out. As you were walking away, you could hear his meows as if he was yelling for you to come back and all you could do was laugh.

“Lets just say they’re occupied at the moment,” you say and he follows you out.

“Why do you have Gandalf’s staff?”

“Reasons,” you say before tripping. Ever since you chose the mortal life, you had become less graceful. Frerin had gotten the gracefulness though so that was good.

You use Gandalf’s staff to catch yourself and your eyes widen as a purple smoke comes out of the tip. Oh no.

You hear a poof and a thump and you look down and sure enough. Dwalin is there. As a cat. A black Siberian cat. You squeal at the little poof ball. You pick him up and he hisses but he suddenly looks surprised. He looks down at himself and his eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah. Uh you’re a cat right now,” You tell him and if anything his eyes get wider. “I’ll explain later,” you say, scratching behind his ear. You walk out of the throne room and the guards are looking at you weirdly.

“The King will be indisposed until further notice. You are dismissed,” you say before heading to your room.

“Everyone else is basically in the same state,” you say and he just meows. You roll your eyes.

When you get to your home, you put Dwalin down and he jumps onto the couch.

“Who’s this?” Frerin asks. “Dwalin. I tripped and caught myself with the staff and well that happened,” you say, looking around. Fili and Kili were currently perched above the fireplace. Thorin was still pacing and Balin and Gandalf were still sleeping.

“Gandalf,” you say, poking said cat with his staff.

He looks up and glares at you before going back to sleep. You huff. He was such a lazy cat. Thorin starts pawing at your leg and you bend down to pick him up.

“Amad how are we supposed to turn them back if Gandalf will not even wake up?” Frerin asks, catching fili and Kili as they come flying at him. “I don’t mind having them as cats,” you admit causing Thorin’s claws to dig into your hand. You flick him on his nose and he licks you hand, trying to ease the pain.

“Amad, we have six cats now. What are we supposed to do?” Frerin asks as you take a seat in front of the couch. You spread your legs and Thorin walks around before lying down. “We have to send word to Radagast. He will be the only one to fix this. For now, we will keep these six in here,” you say as Dwalin comes over to you.

You see him eye Thorin when suddenly he hits Thorin’s head with his paw. Thorin sits up, glaring and you giggle.

“Mr. Dwalin is itching for a fight,” Frerin says as Thorin and Dwalin start circling each other. “That’s because in this form its a fair fight. You know your father always wins in these,” you say and Dwalin stops his circling to glare at you. Thorin pounces and you laugh as Dwalin is tackled to the ground.

There is a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you say, eyes stuck on the two fighting best friends.

In walks Dis, looking confused.

“Y/n. Have you seen Fili or Kili? They were supposed to be home an hour ago,” Dis asks. Fili and Kili go bounding up to her, asking to be picked up.

“You see funny story. Uh Frerin accidently turned Gandalf, Balin, Fili, Kili and Thorin into cats and while grabbing Gandalf’s staff to figure this out, I accidently turned Dwalin into one,” you say as Dis bends over to pick Kili and Fili up.

They rub their faces against hers, purring contently. You turn back to watching the cats duke it out. Balin is up and takes a seat on Frerin’s lap.

“Why can’t those two be like Balin and Gandalf?” Frerin asks as Thorin and Dwalin knock over the side table.

“Oh please. They need to get rid of that sexual tension somehow,” you say and the two cats freeze and slowly turn towards you and it’s almost comical. Dis snorts as she takes a seat next to you.

Thorin and Dwalin go back to tumbling around.

“Is there anyway to fix this?” Dis asks as Fili climbs into your lap.

“We should probably send word to Radagast but it might just be a temporary thing so I’m just going to wait it out till tomorrow. If they’re not back to their normal self I’ll send word to Radagast,” you say as Dwalin goes toppling into the fireplace.

He pops his head up and shakes off before crawling out. Thorin makes his way over to you but is soon tackled by Dwalin. You laugh. Those two were so cute.

Fili crawls up your torso and you hold his bottom. He licks your cheek and you giggle. You hear a hiss and suddenly Fili is being tackled off of your shoulder. You turn to find Thorin holding Fili down and hissing.

You smile and grab him by the scruff of his neck before pulling him into your arms. He licks at the same spot Fili was just licking before climbing out of your arms. You look down and your favorite light blue tunic was now covered in soot.

You whip your head to Dwalin who was now on the kitchen table trying to get a cookie from your cookie jar.

Sensing your gaze, he pauses, paw halfway into the jar.

“You ruined my tunic,” you grumble and he recoils, eyes widening,”my favorite tunic!”

Before you can even move, dwalin shoots off of the table and to somewhere else in your home. You, Dis, and Frerin burst out laughing. They were such silly cats.

Tags: @infinite-exist-ence @sdavid09 @why-pace-why@jotink78@savvythedork @localfatgirl @daughterleftbehind@saphira1412@emilyymichelle @forestraccoon @starr-trekkk

Part 3????

❝ I am Yesung, your guardian angel. ❞

Plot: Yesung, where he is your guardian angel, you can see and hear him. You and he are in love with each other

Pairing: Yesung x Reader

Words count: 2,5k+

Genre: Comedy Fluff

For blogscarecrow , I hope you like it ^^


Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner!

‘Ahhhhh who the hell are you?!’ You shouted.

‘I am Ye-’

‘I don’t care who the fuck you are, just get out of my bedroom!’

‘You are thirteen right?’ The stranger asked and you nodded in response, ‘Then you shouldn’t be using such words my dear.’

‘Then get the fuck out of my room and then maybe I will consider to turn over a new leaf.’ You said with an eye roll.

‘I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, Y/N.’ The strange man huffed.

‘H-how do you know my name?’ You asked, inching closer to your bedroom door.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I was you.’ He shrugged his shoulders.

‘And why not?’ You challenged.

‘Because you will run out, trip over a toy, and break your ankle.’

And that is exactly what happened when you tired to bolt from the black haired stranger that popped into your bedroom that night. When you awoke in the hospital the next morning and told your parents about the experience, they all said it was just a dream. You believed them for a second, before the same man walked into the room with a smug look on his face. He leant against the doorway with his hands crossed on his chest as you shouted and told everyone to look towards the door. Since they saw nothing, they feared you had gotten a concussion and needed your head examined for further injuries.

‘You should have listened.’ The man said in a sing song manner, walking in later that evening once everyone had left ‘Would have saved you all this trouble.’

‘Who the hell are you?!’ You seethed.

‘Will you allow me to answer without cutting me off?’ He asked, you nodded, ‘Perfect. I am Yesung, your guardian angel.

‘You have to study.’ An irritating voice sounded once again.

‘You are my guardian angel, not my conscious, Yesung.’ You rolled your eyes at the raven haired man before you.

You sat on your bed playing on your phone and having a conversation with someone. One would think it was normal, but then again it did look like you were talking to no one. No one? Strange right? But in a matter of fact, you weren’t talking to yourself, but rather to a man that had been at your side since you were a teenager. At the age of thirteen you had been given Yesung, your guardian angel. He was someone who was their to protect you and keep you safe through anything, whether it be physical, mental or emotional.

He was there especially when your parents passed away when you were 18. He held you through the nights. Through all the nightmares you faced, all the tears and emotional days. He was now the only person you really had. Now at the age of 22 and at university, he was still a pain in your ass with his loving qualities.

‘I am talking to you, Y/N.’ He spoke once again, standing besides your bed.

‘And I am ignoring you.’ You looked at your phone, totally disregarding him.

Grabbing the phone from your hold, he pinned you to the bed, ‘I am still older then you, show some respect.’

Much like humans, angels aged as well but stopped at the age of 35. When Yesung was assigned to you, he was 24 and now at the age of 32, he was just three years away from his complete age. But to you, Yesung hadn’t changed. Yeah, he had lost weight but his personality was the same as well as his charming self. He was yours for 8 years, but as you got older you wanted him to be yours. Yeah it was strange to love an angel but he was more then just that. He was like your best friend. Now you both lay on your bed with his body firmly pressed against yours and that stupid attractive face inches away from yours.

‘Y-yesung?’ You stuttered.

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anonymous asked:

Wil honey wants to get revenge on dark for bullying hosty well come here*grabs his ear and whisper to him*"let's paint his room in pink!"

(This would most definitely happen.)

Dark is walking back to his office after a trip into town for lunch when he passes Warfstache in the hall covered in pink paint. He would think nothing of it, if it weren’t for the fact that Wilford is smiling like an idiot and wiggling his eyebrows at Dark.

He doesn’t have time to catch the pink (now even more so than usual) Ego before he poofs away in a puff of pink smoke. Something in Dark’s stomach twists up like a coiled snake as he briskly walks (Dark doesn’t run for anything or anyone) towards his office. He throws open the opaque glass door to reveal his worst fear.

Wilford has painted his entire office a bright, bubblegum pink, and he’s painted a message on Dark’s wall of windows in big, bubble letters. “Leave the Host alone.”

Dark’s shell cracks wildly, but he quickly composes himself once more and brushes his hair out of his eyes. Fine, if Wilford wants to go back and forth, two can play at this game. Dark rolls his neck and heads for the studio.

The Vow (Castiel x Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! I hope the two anons don’t mind me combining the two requests, they just fit each other quite well so I couldn’t help it😅 Btw I wATCHED LOGAN AND OH MY- it’s really not bad haha anywayssss, enjoy!!

Requests: Hi love! Could you a really fluffy imagine with cuddling with cas? Thanks!//Hey! Could you write a really fluffy imagine where cas takes care of you when you’re sick? I would love it so much!

You wrapped your blanket tightly around yourself as you walked through the bunker, heading straight to the kitchen for a glass of water as your throat is killing you. Walking past the library, you saw Sam and Dean look up at you.

“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been to hell and back, I mean you did but y’know what I mean,” Dean said, looking you up and down, you understanding why he’ll think that way as your hair was in a mess, your face pale as you were dressed in an oversized long sleeved shirt with long pants.

“Thanks,” you croaked.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked worriedly.

“Just peachy,” you replied, sniffling as you dragged your feet to the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of water. You stared at the water jug, contemplating before just taking it with you as well, heading back to your room.

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