and they had to find a way to keep their heads up

Gruesome Discover

Originally posted by horroroftruant

Pairing: Negan x Reader
Word count: 1,509
Warnings: Swearing, violence

Part 11 of Runaway

He had one last place to look- the back lot. If that’s where you were taken, there was a slim chance that you wouldn’t have fatal injuries. His stomach dropped as him and the others made their way in that direction, dread over what he had a feeling he would find.

Your corpse.

Negan made his way towards the last place you could be, his heart hammering in his chest. His men were nearly jogging to keep up. He burst through the tree line and his eyes went straight to you. There was a wooden pole maybe 10 feet in front of him, which you were tied to. Your hands were tied behind your back, you were kneeling, your head hung forward. He looked to the man on his left. “Find him.” He ordered. His man simply nodded and took off around the outside.

Slowly,  he moved forward. He could see blood now, and how your ankles were bound together and to the post. There was something forcing you to kneel, and your wrists were being rubbed raw from your body weight pulling on it.

Kneeling next to you, he held you up with one arm and cut the bindings with a knife. You groaned as you fell into him. The other men were scouting the area nearby, looking for Dwight, and anyone else who might have been involved. “Hank!” He called out, watching as one of them jog over. Negan motioned to Lucille. “You’re with me.” He stood, picking you up.

As he carried you, he made sure you were leaned into his chest. His jaw clenched as he controlled his breathing. He hadn’t even looked closely at you yet, he wanted to get you inside first.

Keep reading

[dr]OUTLANDER Fic-off. Young Love; Part 2.

takemeawaytocamelot said:
Hello beautiful genius!! I’m begging you for the next part of mum advice for young Claire. Please. I need it like I need oxygen.

OF COURSE. Anything for you my darling.

To find other parts in mine, click here: {MBD}, for Camelot’s, click here: {TMATC}

‘Fancy Dress!’ The poster read; a school wide event for all years.

Claire rolled her eyes.

“Ye dinna wish to dust off yer old nativity outfits then, Sassenach?” Jamie whispered, coming quietly up behind her but keeping his distance.

Sassenach, the word clawed at her. A signifier of her status here in Scotland; English, an outsider. But there was something about the way that Jamie said it that warmed her inside and out.

Not that she would admit that to anyone.

Glowering up at him, Claire shook her head, her curls coming loose from the thin bobble that had them partially tamed.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Fraser? Seeing me as the back end of a donkey?” she quipped, her cheeks pinking as she spoke.

Pulled under by a fast growing affection, Claire had taken to calling Jamie only by his surname as a way to distance herself from him –vocally.

“Ach, no, Claire,” he returned, a humorous glint behind his eye, “I’d rather see yer bonnie face.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and before she could respond, he was gone. As the bell rang for next period, Claire rushed down the nearly empty corridors, her heart racing at double the speed.

Tugging at her father’s old flat cap, Claire pulled the brim down and pushed her stray curls under it as best she could.

“Why you can’t go as something *less obscure*, I’ll never know,” Henry chuckled as he drew the old jacket around Claire’s shoulders, “but you do look quite the piece, Miss Beauchamp. Don’t do anything your mother or I wouldn’t do, our Claire, alright?”

“Yes, dad,” she replied, leaning in for a hug before scampering off.

Her mum was working late, and she’d been sorely tempted to ditch the dance all together. But Henry had been given strict instructions by Julia, instructions he daren’t break.

So she had pulled out an old outfit in the hopes that it still fit, and slung together something she, now, was actually quite proud of.

The music was thumping as she climbed the stairs to the school hall, her many peers dressed in numerous different costumes from fairies to cowboys. A usual array of movie references and childhood folly surrounded her as she stepped into the large room.

“What the devil ha’ ye come as, Sassenach!?” Rupert laughed, removing his plastic eyepatch to get a better look at Claire as he skirted around the mini buffet.

Grinding her teeth together, Claire turned from Mackenzie, eager not to end up thumping the lad lest he insult her any further.

“If you don’t know, fool, then I’m not going to be the one to enlighten you,” she scoffed under her breath as she walked away, leaving rotund Rupert chuckling with his ache ridden date.

Tapping the heel of her sturdy boots against the tired hardwood floor, Claire stood watching the random couples as they danced across the centre of the large hall.

“It’s a shame they arena up fer a wee rebellion, isn’t is, Sassenach?” Jamie teased, approaching from the right hand side, appearing, as he always managed to do, out of nowhere. “Though I see yer ready for a stand…at the barricades.”

Swivelling her head, Claire took him in. Head to toe.

“Are you…?” she began, her mouth falling open as she gazed at his outfit, very similar to her own.

“The question is, Claire,” he continued to taunt, well aware of her shock at seeing him in such a disguise, “can ye pick the right man?”

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she took a step away from the wall to view him properly. Three quarter length breeks with white stockings underneath, nice leather buckled shoes, plain white shirt, blue waistcoat and a stunning faux-velvet jacket with glorious shiny golden buttons. He did truly look the part, as if he’d just stepped forth from the Hugo novel itself. Around his middle, instead of a belt, he wore a black silken band that tied off under the jacket at the left of his hip.

“You’re Enjorlas…” she gasped, the realisation hitting her smack in the chest.

“Yer a smart cookie, Claire Beauchamp. Aye, that I am. Leader of the ABC, at yer service, Madame Eponine.”

Blinking steadily, Claire stepped forwards and took the lapels of his waistcoat under her delicate fingers, running the tips downwards and shifting the material as she did so.

“You didn’t want to be Marius –or Valjean?”

“Nay,” he returned, that beautiful twinkle glinting in his eye as he spoke. “And ye didna fancy being Cosette or Fantine?”

Rolling her eyes, Claire smiled across at him. Her face softened as the humour took her. Something told her he’d had some help with bringing the idea to life, help –possibly– in the form of one Julia Beauchamp.

Taking her by the arm, Jamie linked Claire and walked her from the crowded room out into the Inverness night.

“Ye look fair bonnie tonight, Claire,” he began, his fingers twitching against the thin material of her shirt as they walked farther from the school gates.

“If you were conspiring to dress to accompany me,” Claire returned, the cold night around her making her bold, “why did you not come as Marius? We would have…”

“Matched? Nay, we wouldna,” Jamie interrupted, stopping and pulling her towards him.

All of a sudden his nose was against hers and her heart was pounding, a relentless beat that had her ribs shaking with the pressure of keeping it contained.

Claire had never in her life been this close to a boy.

Neither had she ever felt as she did for Jamie.

Fear rippled through her as she licked her dry lips in the dark street.

“Do ye think, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered, closing his eyes as if he were readying himself to kiss her, “that if puir wee Eponine hadna been so blinded by her need for Marius, that she would have seen what she could have been for Enjorlas instead?”

“M-maybe…yes…” Claire stuttered in response, her palms sweating lightly as Jamie massaged her hands.

Unable to think clearly, Claire tore herself from his grasp, turned on her heel and rushed off into the inky blackness that encased them. At first, she had no clue where she was going, and then her mother’s surgery came into view. The bright yellow light shone from the closed door and onto the damp path, a beacon in the night that signalled her forwards.

Bursting through the entrance, Claire stood panting on the welcome mat, her hands scrunched at her sides as the nurses still on site stared at her in confusion from behind the counter.

“Claire!” Julia exclaimed, walking from her surgery room to find her daughter imitating a statue in front of her eyes. “I thought you’d still be at the dance. What are you doing here?”

“I think he wanted to kiss me…” she rushed out, her words all jumbling together as she finally came alive once more, her cheeks flooding and turning bright red in the heat of the small waiting room, “…but I can’t, how can I?”

Julia smiled at Claire’s innocence as she strode towards her.

Placing her hands against the tops of Claire’s arms she began to rub softly, breathing some life back into her frigid limbs. “I don’t think it’s about how, Claire, my love. More whether you wanted him to –or not?”

“I’ve never…Mum, I don’t know *how* to.”

“So, you wouldn’t have objected then, to him doing it?”

“No,” Claire answered before her brain had time to engage and she blinked in shock at the words as they fell from her lips.

Chuckling, Julia bent forward and kissed both of Claire’s warm cheeks before pulling back once more. Glancing over Claire’s right shoulder out of the glass fronted surgery, she tilted her head in the direction of the car park. “Well then, my darling, if it’s with the right partner, it’ll come to you.”


“Do ye intend on keeping him waiting, Claire?” Nurse Fitzgibbons broke in, a rather large smile plastered on her face as she came to stand next to Julia in solidarity.

Twisting her head to see what her mother and Mrs Fitz were looking at, Claire caught a glimpse of a lone figure stood at the end of the drive, a bashful expression covering his face.

“Jamie…” she murmured, her shoulders vibrating with nervous energy, “he followed me…”

“Aye, lassie. He likes ye, ken?”

Biting her lip, Julia held back the laughter she felt bubbling up inside her as she patted Claire’s arm. “Anyone who’s willing to ring up a mother to ask advice on the matter of fancy dress, my dear, deserves not to be left out in the cold. Don’t you agree?” she stated, on seeing the desire that lay behind Claire’s eyes, knowing her proclivity for burying feelings of affection deep down and trying to override them.

Quietly, Claire took herself back outside, trekking across the stoney carpark towards Jamie as he stood by the wall at the end of the small drive.

“You asked my mum for advice?” she began, her heart in her throat as she took his hands in hers.

He was frozen.

“Aye, my mam,” he replied, a slight hint of sadness in his tone, “she’s been sick and yer mother has been amazing. She’s better now, but Nu– your mam, she still comes over and checks up on us. That’s why I’m always late. And that’s why I rang her.”

Behind them, the thunder rumbled lightly, the skies opening as Claire shimmied closer to Jamie.

Small speckles of rain bounced around them as their lips met, the almost-silent pitter patter of the droplets reverberating through the calm evening.

“I see you, Jamie Fraser,” Claire whispered in between caresses, her mouth leaving his only briefly before re-moulding gracefully and moving as one once more.

“I see you too, Claire Beauchamp…” Jamie returned, his tongue lapping at the moisture that had gathered on the tips of her lips as they separated to speak.

Inside, dry and warm, Julia and Nurse Fitz watched Claire and Jamie as they came together, holding close to one another through the downpour but not minding the rain as they kissed passionately.

“There is something truly wonderful about watching young love, aye, Julia?” Glenna sighed, her eyes going soft as she clapped her hands.

Smiling, Julia wrapped her arms around Glenna’s shoulders as she steered the head nurse back towards their station and away from the window. “There certainly is. I knew she simply had to open her heart to it.”

Back outside, Jamie nudged Claire’s nose with his own as he hugged her to his chest, breaking their embrace.

“The dance will be over now, Claire. Shall I take ye home?”

Smirking, Claire looked up at Jamie, her eyes wide under her rain soaked lashes. “What if I told you I had something else in mind?” she asked, a flirtatious lilt to her tone as she turned, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him off towards the main road.

The lights of the doctor’s office dwindled as Claire led Jamie away, a spring in her step and the cold nip in the air forgotten.

“I hope ye arena planning on leading me astray, Claire,” Jamie whispered, a sudden thrill flowing through his veins as he followed.

“Of course not, do you trust me?” she asked, bringing them to a halt directly in front of a dark alley.

Staring deep into the abyss, Jamie’s eye darted from the alley to Claire and back again, the subtle tang of fresh rain still alive around them as the sky cleared and a deep blue took shape above them.

“Aye, Claire,” he answered, revelling in her excitement, “I trust ye…”

Knock Out

Request: Can I please have an imagine were the reader gets seriously injured and Stiles finds her in the hospital and the rest is up to you as long as they kiss (by: @anntol2001  )

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Just a heads up there’s an accident somewhere along the way. I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

(Y/N)’s POV

You have this all under control. Trust me, you’ve got this (Y/N).

The truth is I knew I was lying to myself, but if I repeat it enough maybe I’ll actually start to believe it’s true. Beacon Hills had been my home away from home, yet there are still moments where I need to get escape.

Everyone left for Mexico to rescue Scott, while I stayed behind to pick up the pieces. I told Lydia I was alright and like a true friend she saw right through it. It was taking its toll on me no matter how hard I denied it.

I had to stay behind to keep myself from falling apart again.

It’s not everyday you find out your family has been behind the murders of your classmates. They wanted me to join them as the Benefactor, nut how could I join them and allow my friends to be killed?

We fought tooth and nail until we were able to bring them down so they could be sent as far away from me as possible. So many terrible things has happened here, yet I’m not ready to move on from Beacon Hills yet.

So far the good has always outweighed the bad.

Even with my families being the catalyst behind the murders, I still wanted to stay. I needed to stay to fight alongside my friends to protect everyone. And then there was Stiles.

He’s been my friend ever since I moved here. We know we like each other and so does majority of the town. With everything that goes on here starting a relationship never seemed to be a good idea at the time.

Before the school year started, Stiles came by my house almost everyday, asking if I wanted to hang out. I wanted to be with him more than anything so naturally I wanted him to finally ask if we could be something more. I would be willing to take that risk with him, until people started dying once school started. Everything was pushed aside and we were back in detective mode once again.

I gripped the steering wheel to turn the car straight again. Between the tears threatening to spill and the rain, I knew this was a bad idea. As soon as I reach the gas station I’ll wait until it stops pouring.

It felt like my heart was actually breaking. My own parents were behind everything. They knew putting Scott at the top of the list would put a giant target on his back and they didn’t care. He was my friend. He was Stiles’ best friend. How would I have helped him cope with losing him?

My parents never thought about all of that. They just wanted to rid Beacon Hills of anyone that wasn’t human.

It would never happen, but they tried their hardest.

I loved my parents with all my heart, but they were reason I was on the road at 2 AM attempting to clear my head for awhile. They used to take me out for rides to calm me down and it was doing little to help right now.

They killed Melanie, the first friend I made when I came here. Just as I started to have some normalcy in my life, they took it away.

Things would never be the same.

Stiles’ POV

We finally made it back home with Scott in one piece and trust me it wasn’t easy.

I tried calling (Y/N) once I got to school and I got no response. She either slept in or she’s in the library. My best bet is she’s sleeping in. After what happened to her family and friends, I wouldn’t have come back to school so quickly either.

As Scott and I left our lockers, I called her again and her phone went straight to voicemail.

“Have any of you been able to get a hold of (Y/N)? She isn’t responding to anything”, I asked as I gripped my phone in my hand

“No. My mom hasn’t been answering her phone either”, Scott responded

Lydia made her way up to us with a painful expression making its way across her face, “My mother said she hasn’t seen (Y/N) at all today. Usually she gets to class early, but no one has seen her since last night. Something doesn’t feel right”

“Lydia, what is it?”, I asked frantically

“It feels like someone is close to dying. I felt it when I passed (Y/N)’s locker”, she said quietly

“Now I’m worr-”, Scott froze and quirked his head in the direction of the principal’s office, “You’re dad is here. He’s talking about-”

The door flew open and Dad’s eyes met mine. He dismissed his colleague and walked up to me, avoiding eye contact.

“Dad what’s going on? Do you know where (Y/N) is?”, I quipped

“Son”, he paused, “(Y/N)’s been in an accident and it doesn’t look to good”


I spent the past few hours trying to make sense of it all. (Y/N) went for a drive to clear her head which was pretty normal, but she never factored in that it was going to rain that night. According to the records, she hydroplaned and went through a guardrail.

At first none of the nurses and doctors would allow me in her room, but Melissa let me in anyway. It was touch and go since she first arrived, yet they were still able to stabilize her. Melissa worked nonstop with Liam’s father until they knew she would be alright.

Now we play the waiting game.

Her family wouldn’t be here to ensure she fully recovers, since they’ll be in prison for a very long time. Most of the time it’s just me, my Dad, Scott, and Lydia watching over her. Scott takes her pain away every once and awhile, but that’s all he can do at the moment. The rest is up to her. She hit her head pretty hard on the steering wheel, which is what knocked her out in the first place. She has a few cracked ribs, a concussion, sprained wrist, and a broken clavicle. The rest of her body was swollen and bruised.

It was far too painful to see her in this condition, but I want to be her when she wakes up just to let her know that everything would be alright and I would be with her during every step of her recovery and even after that. I would always be there for her and this was no exception.

I had fallen in love with (Y/N) a long time ago, yet I never had the courage to say it to her face. Given her condition and the life we live, it would best that I tell her sooner than later.


“Has anything changed?”, Scott asked as he walked through the door

“Not much. They said her vitals are looking better than before, but that’s it. They’re just waiting for her to wake up”, I said as I kept my eyes trained on her

Scott held onto (Y/N)’s hand and his veins turned black once again. This time it only lasted for a few seconds.


“What does ‘hmph’ even mean? What’s wrong with you?”

“She’s not in pain anymore. They really are just waiting for her to wake up. It’s all up to her. You know I heard my mom say that when someone’s in a coma it helps to talk to them. Sometimes they recall what they hear sometime’s they don’t”, he said as he shrugged his shoulders, “I think it’s worth a shot”

“Yeah I think you’re right”

Scott kept me company for few moments before heading to Deaton’s.

It had been a few days since I came to the hospital to first check on her. Most of the swelling has gone down and her bruises were beginning to fade. She was taking her time to recover, but I knew she would get there (Y/N) was never much of a quitter.

I reached over to hold her hand. I didn’t even know where to begin.

We had been through so much, yet the hardest thing for me to do was tell her how I feel.

“(Y/N)…I…uhhh…”, I finally managed to get out, “I know you’re in so much pain right now. Not physically, but emotionally. You’re hurting because the two people in your life that were never supposed to hurt you, were the ones that betrayed your trust. They hurt you the most. I’m sure by now you feel like your heart is broken into a million pieces and you don’t even know where to begin to put it back together but you have me. I’m going to be the one helping you every step of the way and I won’t stop until you’re whole again. I’ll stay with you through physical therapy…even regular therapy if you decide to go and you need me there. The bottom line is I’m staying by your side no matter happens”

Oddly enough, it felt good to talk to her. I gave her hand a squeeze, kissed her on the cheek, and made my way back home.

I followed the same schedule everyday. I came to the hospital in the morning and after school, just to tell her about what happened during the day. Sometimes Scott, Kira, Lydia, Liam, Malia, and Mason would come by too. We all just wanted her to wake up and be alright.

“So how is she?”, Liam asked as he pushed the door open with Mason following behind him

“She’s the same as yesterday Liam and the day before that”

I didn’t mean to sound so aggravated, but this was taking a long time.

Liam grew quiet, his eyes trained on (Y/N), “Say something again”

“Like what?”

“Anything no matter how stupid you sound”

“Liam! What does this have to do with anything!?”, I nearly yelled

“Because she can hear you. Every time you speak, her heart rate picks up. It only works with your voice”, he smiled, “Keep talking to her”

“(Y/N)? I…umm…”

“Just tell her already. I can hear your heartbeat too”

“You not making this any easier for me, ya know?”, I turned my attention back to (Y/N), “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve wanted to be there for you since the very beginning. Even before this stuff with your family started. I wanted to be the one you turned to when things go awry or if you just need someone to talk to. I thought I could be that friend for you, but as it turns out, I want to be a more than that because somewhere along the way…”

“He fell in love with you”, Mason said absentmindedly

He looked up, panicked as he realized the room fell to a dead silence.

“Mason!”, Liam sighed

“I’m sorry! I truly am, but this is really sweet though”, the smile on his face dissipating as he caught my glare, “I’ll keep quiet then”

“You know this probably isn’t even working. How would I know that (Y/N) can actually hear me? It doesn’t make–”

Liam sensed my hesitation and kept his eyes on (Y/N) as well. I looked down in my hand that was intertwined with hers and her grip grew a little tighter. She softly squeezed my hand with her eyes dancing behind her eyelids.

“Stiles?”, she said softly

Her eyes were slowly regaining their focus as a small smile spread across her face.

“You’re still here”

“There was no way I wouldn’t be here when you woke up”

“I figured”, she said as Liam left to go get his father, “Mainly because you fell in love with me”

(Y/N) began to giggle and Mason tried his best not to laugh. She definitely heard it all.

“If it makes you feel any better, somewhere along the way I fell in love with you too”

I was thankful for a moment that Liam had left the room. My heart was beating a mile a minute. She was the only person I would ever take this risk with.

“So we’re really doing–”

Before I could finish, she pulled me in, her lips on mine. My arms wrapped around her as I pulled her even closer, forgetting that Mason was in the room or hearing the door slide open.

“Stiles when you’ve unattached yourself from my patient. I’d like to check her vitals”

“That might be a while”, (Y/N) grinned as she pulled me in again

This scenario between Mike and Ms Crawly has been stuck in my head for the entire day:

The old lizard lady had lost her glass eye and had been asking everyone backstage if they’ve seen it – but everyone’s too busy rehearsing for the show to help out.

Fortunately Mike found it underneath the staircase when he was planning to leave. In order to shut her constant questioning, he rolled it up towards her office upstairs and returned it to her.

And then he goes and complains about how she should buy something better to replace it because it just keeps falling out and causing a nuisance when they had to help her find it.

Ms Crawly explains, in a way as if she was telling a story to a child, that the glass eye was a “get-well” gift from her late husband after her incident a great long time ago as a stage hand – so of course she couldn’t exactly replace it.

After her explanation, Mike is just standing there, speechless, with his ears slightly flattened and feeling more like an asshole than usual. But then he gets confused when she bursts out laughing, and nearly chokes when she tells him that the “gift” part was a joke, and watches her waddle away giggling.

Buster had been watching the entire exchange and when Mike finally notices him, the koala just gives him a smile that would’ve basically said: “You got played.”


A muggleborn getting her Hogwarts letter.
She gets all excited and reads up on the houses, secretly hoping for Ravenclaw.
The time comes for her to go and on the train, due to her sharp humour and friendly nature, she makes a couple of friends.
The Sorting comes quicker than expected, and once she has the Hat on her head, he lets her know that she is Slytherin.
The muggleborn is confused and disappointed, due to the stereotypes she had looked up before coming to Hogwarts.
Sad and lonely, she makes her way to her new common room.
However, once inside this group of people, she notices that the older Slytherins keep a watchful eye on the first years, silently hexing older Gryffindors who snigger as they walk by.
She researchs, getting funny looks from the Ravenclaws, and finds out about all the great witches and wizards who were in Slytherin.
Suddenly, her attitude snaps.
She embraces being a Slytherin, and uses their somewhat dark reputation to her advantage.
She can change herself to suit her surroundings.
She can hold her tongue in class, although she challenges her teachers respectfully, and is labelled as a Ravenclaw.
As she gets older, she becomes famous at pranking people, and is labelled as a Gryffindor.
She is overly protective and loyal to the Slytherin first years, and is labelled as a Hufflepuff.
But deep down, it all comes together and despite her safe nature, she is through and through a Slytherin.

Percival Graves - SPOILERS

Okay, but seriously. There is no way that Grindelwald was Graves the whole time. Graves clearly has a history with everyone there. There must be a trust that was built over years of hard work and dedication. He seems to be one of the head investigative Aurors (he clearly knows Tina very well, and has a direct line to the President!). And Grindelwald has been wreaking havoc on the world recently in this movie.

Therefore, I’m hoping that Grindelwald only recently took over Graves’s identity after having the vision about the Obscurus. He picked someone in MACUSA who had a lot of influence and took over their life to lead the investigation and throw everyone off the trail. Obviously, he would need to keep Graves alive to learn about him and ask questions. 

…Or that’s just me hoping that Colin Ferrell will come back for more movies as a badass Auror out for revenge on Grindelwald for squandering the reputation he’s built up his entire life.

the week you turn nineteen,
you spend more time choking back
tears than not. the world spins on
and you wonder if growing up
is supposed to feel like
being waterboarded.
the beginning chapter of eighteen
saw a fierce girl
with sparks caught between
her teeth. she had a fight in her
bones and a song on her tongue.
eighteen finds a title, she finds
a home,
even if so many still spit out its name.
she builds a roof over her head and
some days it’s heavy to hold up. some
days the rain leaks through. but
most days, most days it is the only thing
that makes sense.
eighteen finds a world skilled
at throwing punches and she thinks
she’s just as good at taking them
until the world stops fighting fair.
eighteen gives way to nineteen
three rounds past trembling knees. she
passes the mantle on broken legs.
on a heavy chest.
on tear-stained sleeves.
nineteen shows up like the guest
you forgot making plans with. she
knocks on the door and
eighteen says, “it’s not a good time” but
nineteen says, “i don’t feel like celebrating”
and stays anyways.
eighteen didn’t
get out of bed when girls that love like her
are killed on television and nineteen
dry heaves by the side of the road
three days after her community is
massacred in the next state over. nineteen
is afraid of falling asleep and
even more afraid of waking up. sixteen
was searching for god and
fifteen cried while she prayed
but nineteen has stopped looking
for answers that don’t make her
sick to her stomach.
nineteen finds you curled under the covers.
nineteen finds you suffocating.
nineteen finds you grasping
for a way to live that doesn’t make
you a target. nineteen finds you as a
soldier drafted into a war that
shouldn’t have to be fought. some
tell you you’re
and some say every breath you take is a
shot fired
but none of them have ever
had to stand on the front lines.
the way you love comes with a
body count.
a death toll
that keeps climbing.
you sit in the foxhole while your
friends’ blood is all over the news and
you can’t even write home to
mom and dad about the reasons you
feel so small these days.
seventeen was lost and eighteen was
proud but nineteen is just scared.

you tell nineteen that she will relearn
how to feel hopeful.
she will.
she will.

—  nineteen // cc

littleneko1923  asked:

Song Challenge; I won't tell a soul by Charlie Puth... pairing Sirius X Hermione

Sirius rolled over and reached out, only to find empty sheets. They were still warm though, so he suspected she hadn’t gone far. When he cracked open his eyes, he found the bedroom door half-way open, her clothes were still on the floor, but his shirt from the night before was missing.

A good sign.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. Her scent still clung to his sheets and pillow. The smell of their love making saturated the room and he couldn’t quite keep the cocky grin off of his face. Another inhale told him she had made coffee. He rolled out of bed and shimmied into his wrinkled jeans. He didn’t bother to button them.

Keep reading

Ten Times Ben Told Leslie He Loved Her, Before He Told Her That He Loved Her

Keep reading



You started your treck into the busy hallway. All these familiar faces brushed right past you, not bothering to give you a second glance. You had grown up with them, knew each and every single one. Well, you knew who they were, but no one else got far from waving.

The world around was a mute chaos to you as you made your way to your locker to exchange books for your next class. You jumped at the slight tap on your shoulder and banged your head on the door. Wincing and rubbing the soar spot you turned to find the culprit and your stomach dropped immediately. Liam Dunbar. You gulped, trying to keep your cool.

“I’m so sorry,” he signed to you, his icey eyes melting. You stepped back. He knew sign language??

“It’s ok,” you nervously smiled.

He opened his mouth for a second and stopped to think, “my name is Liam.” He fumbled a little but you understood perfectly.

“I know who you are, I am y/n.”

He looked confused at your reply, as if he didn’t understand some of the movements, “It’s nice to meet you. You are very pretty.” He winked.

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you nervously shifted your feet, “Thank you.”

He looked up quickly, the bell must have rung, “I like you…” He held up a finger and fished for his notebook and began to write. In a few moments he handed you a scrawled piece of paper: ‘Hey, I’ve seen you around and I can’t get my mind off of you. And I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime? I promise my signing will get better! :) ’

You couldn’t help but smile as he had attempted to learn a whole new language just for you. No one had ever really gone out of their way like that for you.

“Yes,” you signed and excitedly nodded.

“I will see you later,” he waved, quickly kissed your hand, and ran off, looking behind him to flash a nervous smile as he bolted down the hall, leaving you there in utter shock.

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking requests for your blurb day, I'd love some fun malum, like maybe something involving pranks or jokes or some other lighthearted cuteness which hopefully ends in a lot of making out!

Calum’s body immediately relaxed the moment the hot stream of water hit his back, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as he closed his eyes. Tour had been over for months now, but stress still managed to find its way into his life even while he was supposed to be taking a vacation. He found himself waking up at ungodly hours to write down thoughts that wouldn’t seem to leave his head, followed by insomnia keeping him company until the sun had finally risen over the horizon. He chased his sleepless nights with at least five cups of coffee before starting the day, running on caffeine and two hours of sleep. He knew the scalding shower couldn’t rinse off all his problems, but it was a good start.

After soaking for a few moments, Calum swiped the bottle of shampoo off the shower rack and uncapped it, pouring a small amount into his hand before scrubbing it into his newly-shaved head. He noticed the shampoo smelled a little sharper than usual, but he brushed it off. 

Once Calum was out of the shower, bathroom door cracked slightly to let out all the steam, he started to see his reflection becoming clearer in the fogged-up mirror. To his shock, he saw a lot of… blue? 

The short hairs on his head had a blue tint to them, almost strikingly vibrant in the bright bathroom lighting. Calum knew who was behind this. 

“Michael?” He called out, eyes not leaving his reflection for a moment. “Mike, get in here!”

Heavy footsteps trudged down the hallway before the door creaked open, revealing a smirking Michael, clad in his boxers and a destroyed band shirt. A loud laugh immediately cracked from the blonde, his hand slapping over his mouth as he glanced up at Calum’s hair. Calum’s eyes only narrowed in response. Though Michael had sneakily dyed his hair blue, Calum couldn’t bring himself to feel mad. It actually looked kind of good

“Do something new to your hair, Cal?” Michael finally managed out through his laughs. 

“Ha ha,” Calum deadpanned, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Why is this so funny? You knew what was going to happen.”

“I didn’t think it was going to be so vibrant,” Michael giggled, reaching upwards to run his hand through Calum’s wet and freshly-dyed hair. “It looks good, Cal.”

Calum playfully rolled his eyes before looking back into the mirror. Michael was right- it did look good. He vaguely remembered Michael telling him about the hair dye, how it was a quick wash-in dye that he was going to use to turn his hair another funky color to take a brief break from blonde. He also remembered that Michael was a severe prankster, and he was mildly stupid for thinking he wouldn’t be affected by his boyfriend’s antics. 

“Well, now we can match,” Calum commented, grinning over at Michael. 

Calum finished getting ready, drying his hair, completing his skincare routine (courtesy of Ashton, expert on facial cleansers and toners, whatever those are) and pulling on some comfortable clothes before joining Michael on the couch. Michael couldn’t stop staring at Calum’s new hair, an idiotic grin plastered on his face. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Calum teased, leaning into Michael’s side. Michael threw an arm around Calum’s shoulder, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I’m still in shock over how good it looks on you,” Michael mused, fingers returning to comb through Calum’s hair, soothingly massaging his scalp. “You look so cute. My little baby blue.” 

Calum blushed, nudging his boyfriend playfully before tilting his head upwards, kissing his lips appreciatively. Michael responded by kissing him back, eyelids slowly fluttered shut as the same rush of warmth and happiness surged through him. 

ok this isn’t as much make out as i originally was planning but this is some cute malum i’m proud ! -noah

Into You

Originally posted by jiminsassbutt

“Different people awaken different beast in you.”

Summary: Jackson the guy who’s known to get around is not the type to stick to relationships. But will happen when he falls for one specific girl? Read to find out what happens.

There is swearing.. SORRY

Part 1~

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15



Your Point of View

College was stressing enough with the classes. But having class after class was worse. You had two huge textbooks you had to carry for two of your classes on your left arm and a coffee on your right hand. Sleep was something you lacked and coffee was the only way to keep you up. 

Your alarm clock decided not to ring today in time causing you to be late. Well your weren’t officially late,but you usually like to head to class a bit early to be able to choose your seat but today however that didn’t seem like a choice. 

You began to speed walk your way to the building your class was in until you didnt notice a rock causing you to trip and drop your coffee and your two text books.

“Fuck,” you mumbled annoyed and slowly crouched down trying to pick your textbooks.

You glanced at your coffee and that was spilled. So much for keeping you awake… 

You tried to grab your second text book till you seen a hand grab it causing you to look up. You slowly got up and looked at the guy who was standing in front of you.

You already knew who he was. He was known around your school. Jackson the ladies man. Girls practically throw themselves at him.

“Seems like you dropped this,” Jackson says smirking and handing your textbook.

“Yeah… thanks” your said awkwardly adjusting your bag that was on your shoulder. 

You began to look at him as he smirks and looks at you from head to toe right in front of you. He could of at least make it secretive. You shifted uncomfortably and looked at him.

“Um excuse me?” you said and he looked at you. “My eyes are up here, not down there,” you said annoyed and he laughed. 

“Calm down, I was just seeing what you offer,” Jackson says smirking causing you to look at him with disbelief. 

“Nothing for you, that’s for sure,” you said rolling your eyes. You began to walk away from him and the last thing you hear from that boy is “nothing is right.”

What is that suppose to mean? 

You would be lying if you were to say that you didn’t find Jackson attractive. Of course he was cute. But he assumes he can get any girl and he think it’s okay to disrespect girls. 

After hearing that comment you did feel offended. But you brushed it off your shoulder and made your way to class.


Both of your classes were finally over and it was hard to keep yourself awake. You almost fell asleep during Statistics but successfully you didn’t.

You walked your way to your dorm tired as hell.

A hot nice shower and netflix sounds about great at the moment. You dragged yourself all the way to your dorm.

As you arrived, you pulled out your keys and opened your dorm door.

Worst mistake ever…

You see a guy only in his boxers on top of your roommate. 

“OH my god,” you screeched dropping your textbooks and closing your eyes. 

You heard laughter and slowly you opened your eyes and found your roommate and…. Jackson... 

“Next time knock,” Jackson says pulling up his pants and then he looks at you. 

“So we meet again,” he smirks causing you to roll your eyes.

You ignored his comment and picked up your textbooks off the floor for the second time and lay them on your drawer. 

You sat down on your bed tired and you glanced at Jackson who approached your roommate. 

“To be continued,” he whispered at her and she smiled and they pulled each other into a kiss.

Again you rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone.

“See you around….” he says look at you and you smiled as he didn’t know your name.

“Or not,” you added and he just smirked and walked out of the room.

Your roommate looked at you and smiled. 

“So are you and him a thing?” you asked your roommate and she laughed. 

“No, we are just… I guess you can say fuck buddies.” she says and I laughed.

“What number are you out of his list? 40?” you said smirking and she rolled her eyes. “Tease me all you want, but that boy is good in bed.” she adds and you looked at her.

“This isn’t your first time with him?” you asked surprised.

“No are you crazy,” she says and you looked at her surprised. 

Well this escalated quickly..


You successfully took a warm hot shower and were now laying down in bed watching your favorite show on netflix.

As you were distracted at your show you hear the door being knocked. Your roommate wasn’t here so you of course had to open the door.

You lifted yourself off the bed and walked your way to the door and opened it finding the one and only Jackson.


“Can I help you?” you asked annoyed crossing your arms.

“Well that’s no way to treat your guest,” he says walking past you and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“As if I care,” you said looking at him as you closed the door.

“Anyways what do you want?” you said annoyed and he smiles. 

“Your roommate told me to meet her here to head to the party,” he says sitting her bed.

“Kay,” you said and you went back on your bed and continued to watch your show.

Your show was about to get good till you hear music and you look at Jackson who purposely began to play music.

You stopped your show and looked at him annoyed. 

“Do you mind?” you said sitting up. 

“Not at all,” he says and begins to sing to the song.

This boy was getting on your nerves

You got up and walked up to him. He looked up at you and you successfully snatched his phone from his hand and stopped the music.

“Now stop,” you said looking at him and just as you were about to walk away he grabs you hand and stands up pulling you close to him.

“I know you secretly want me, stop playing hard to get.” he says smirking getting closer to your face.

You pulled away and began to laugh,

“Please, in your dreams,” you rolled you eyes trying to realise you hand from his.

“No, just admit it,” he says still trying to pull you close to him.

You gave in and began to lean in and just as he was about to pull you into a kiss you stuck out your tongue and blew air at his face. 

He pulled away and whipped himself.

“That’s what I thought,” you said rolling your eyes.

This was the first time you talked to Jackson and here he is thinking you wanted him like every other girl. He clearly didn’t know you well… 

You walked back to your bed and you could hear Jackson say one last thing before you put your headphones on.

“You’re going to want me eventually” causing your to smirk. 

As if.



eh another story!

Dream On, Senator Pt. X

Summary: After the Battle, you and Ben take a moment to breathe.

Previously: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part XI

Even though the Resistance had just won big against the First Order, no one was really celebrating. Luke Skywalker was still missing, and although now you had a way to find him, it was a question of whether or not he would help. Fixing one problem left many others behind, the death of the General’s former partner and other losses along with the fact that the First Order now knew where the Resistance Base was.

You decided to keep your head up, taking the moment after the battle to collect yourself. You were no longer mad at Ben, especially since he just saw his father die in front of him. You didn’t like that he took away your choice, but it was easy to forgive him when nothing bad resulted from it.

“Rey, he’ll be all right, he’s still alive,” You consoled Rey, who was looking over at Finn with concern.

“I have to go,” Rey replies.

“I know, I’ll watch over your friend for now,” You pause. “Oh and make sure to say hi to Luke for me, it’s been a while,” You added. She nodded in acknowledgement, heading off with Luke’s old light saber in tow. You sat with Finn for the better part of the evening, you wanted to be there when he woke up to reassure him.

Keep reading

Imagine Going Shopping with Slash

//requested by anonymous//

Walking to the rack full of clothes, Slash picked up a shirt and examined it, looking at the front and back before placing it back where it previously hung. Making his way to where you were standing, he leaned against the wall and rested his head upon it, his soft curls serving as a cushion.

“Y/N, how much longer do we have to be here?” he whined.

You were surprised that Slash had even agreed to accompany you when you suggested the two of you should spend the day shopping. He was bored out of his mind, and the fact that you had only been in the store for ten minutes made it worse.

“As long as it takes for me to find something nice,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the clothes in front of you.  

“But babe, everything looks nice on you,” he smiled, attempting to distract you.

“Y'know, it’s really hard to take you seriously when more than half your face is covered with your hair,” you laughed, walking away from him to check out the jeans that were folded on the table near the front of the store.

“Babe, I’m serious,” he insisted, “Look at this! I’m sure you’d look great in it. You should go try it on!”

Slash grabbed the first dress he saw and held it up. It was a pretty red dress, and you actually considered trying it on. You reached your hand out to feel the fabric, but just as you were about to touch the dress you felt Slash grab your arm, and pull you towards the fitting rooms.

“Slash! Stop it!” You cried out, unable to contain your laughter as he basically dragged you across the store.

A hall of rooms stood before you; a few girls roamed around, some holding large amounts of clothes. You chose a door and were about to shut it, but you were prevented from doing so by Slash stopping the door and following you into the room.

“Slash, what are you doing? Get out!” You playfully reprimanded.

“But I’ve been so bored the whole time we’ve been here, Y/N! I think I should get to have a little fun and at least watch you change,” he chuckled, putting his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer.

You smiled as you replied, “I don’t think so,” and placed your hand on his chest to push him out of the room.

Closing the door, you left Slash by himself on the other side of the room.

“That was rude!”

After hearing you laugh at him, Slash decided to take matters into his own hands. Lowering himself onto the floor, he crawled under the gap between the door and the floor. He raised his head and propped his body up with his elbows, looking up at your exposed body.

“Y'know, the view from down here’s pretty nice.”

You immediately turned around and jumped when you saw Slash on the floor, a satisfied grin on his face. Your mouth opened in shock, as your hands shielded your body from his gaze. No matter how hard you tried to remain serious, you simply couldn’t, especially looking at the goofy expression on his face.

“Goddamnit Slash,” you sighed, shaking your head as a smile began to form on your face.

“Why are you trying to cover your body? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” he laughed, slightly tilting his head to the side.

Rolling your eyes at him, you slowly lowered your arms and watched as Slash moved the rest of his body under the door. You had put on the dress at the same time Slash jumped to stand up. You both faced the mirror, and he stood behind you to wrap his arms around your waist.

“See? I told you you look nice in everything,” he smiled, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror.

You couldn’t figure out whether he meant the compliment or if he was trying to get you to leave the store as quickly as possible.

“Alright, you win,” sighing in defeat, “let’s go.”

Arms still around you, Slash kissed your cheek, a childish smile on his face. You began to pull away from him, but as soon as you tried you felt your boyfriend pull you back to him.

“Y/N! Let’s just stand here for a bit. I want to hold you,” he pleaded, his words muffled after burying his head in the side of your neck.

“Babe, we can’t just stand here,” you replied, your head falling back as you smiled, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Shh yes we can,” he jokingly whispered into your ear.

Slash spun you around so that you were now facing him. He stared at you intently, as if you had some hypnotic quality that captivated him. His hand brushed your hair to the side while his eyes travelled across your face, absorbing each and every one of your features. His expression revealed none other than adoration for you, and he demonstrated his infatuation by leaving a quick kiss on your lips.

“Slash, stop being so adorable,” looking into his eyes you smiled, then continued, “I already told you we could leave,” you said, escaping from his embrace.

Still wanting to hold you, Slash pulled you towards him again; this time poking at your sides and tickling you. You let out a small squeal as his hands attacked your stomach. Slash, failing to realize how much of a disturbance he was causing in the store, resumed fooling around.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out of here, stop it!” You struggled to say, trying to regain your breath while attempting to free yourself from his hold.

“You think? We should make some more noise then,” he responded, letting go of you to leave a wet, sloppy kiss on your forehead.  


Love your blog! I was wondering if you could write something about Fred being tutored by Hermione at school, and they decide to keep it a secret or something?
- @wilderbiz

“You’re sure this is going to work?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Hermione said, closing the door on the Room of Requirement. “Who else would be up here?”

They’d had this agreement for weeks. Hermione, never one to turn away from an academic challenge, had agreed to tutor Fred in Transfiguration. It was more about giving him practice than teaching and, for Hermione, a way to have more time around him

Keep reading

Chasing The Sun Part 1: The Calm - An Elucien Fic

Title: Chasing The Sun: Part 1: The Calm

Summary: Set midst ACOTAR 3, war is brewing and Elain helps to prepare Lucien for battle while being terrified of losing him. 

Teaser: She’s never felt anything so fiercely as she feels her love for him now. She was never one to rage and burn and howl defiance at the world. That had always been Nesta. She had only ever endured, quiet and unassuming, a gentle blossom finding a way to grow between the cracks in a paving stone. But for him, for Lucien, for the love for him that consumes her she feels fire blaze up inside her soul –his fire- filling her with warmth and light and life. 

Link AO3 

Pushing up the left sleeve of her gown again as it makes another hopeful bid back down to its proper place around her wrists Elain dips the jug back into the bath and tips it gently over Lucien’s head. Obligingly, he keeps still as she combs her fingers slowly through his hair, helping the water sluice the soap from it.

Elain smiles, admiring the way the light catches in her mate’s burning copper hair. Her mate. Even now, several weeks after accepting the bond with him, Elain’s stomach still flutters pleasantly at that thought, making it feel as though someone has released a cloud of butterflies inside her every time she thinks about it.

Lucien notes her expression and no doubt feels her reaction through their bond because a soft smile brushes his lips, stretching the brutal scar on his face. His hand lifts from the bath, beads of moisture clinging to his finger tips like liquid jewels before he lightly brushes her cheek.

This little display of affection from him is enough to make her smile again and a moment later she’s pressing yet another gentle kiss to his lips. She just can’t help herself. She had been warned of experiencing a certain frenzy in the wake of their mating but while they had spent quite some time in bed there hadn’t been anything entirely frenzied about what they’d done – which Elain had been glad of.

But she just can’t seem to stop kissing him whenever she has the chance. The feel of his soft lips against hers, the scent of them swirling through the air around her, the happiness that swells in her chest every time…A part of her is quite sure she’ll never be able to stop it. Even though she still can’t quite wrap her head around the idea of living for centuries, somehow it’s not so difficult to imagine kissing Lucien through every single one of them.  

“Not to rush you,” Lucien murmurs onto her lips, “Because this is wonderful,” he smirks wryly, lightly rubbing noses with her before he says, “But I’m turning into a prune.”

He holds up a hand for her inspection and she sees that it’s perfectly true. The sight of the pads of his fingers looking more like raisins than anything makes her giggle. Her inability to keep from kissing him every few moments has drawn this bath out and caused him to have to reheat the water several times over.

But if it were possible she would never let him leave this moment. He’s safe here and happy and she’s loathe to let him go when that might change; when everything might change.

Bracing her hands on her hips she pushes those thoughts away as she narrows her eyes and tries to sound stern when she says, “Are you criticising my bathing skills, sir?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dove,” Lucien replies, eyes wide, with such forced sincerity that she giggles again in spite of herself.

A soft gasp bursts from her as she feels a sudden cold blush against her neck – Lucien’s fingers curling into the front of her dress and coaxing her down to him. She obliges and he kisses her again, soft and slow.

“But,” he adds as he withdraws with obvious reluctance, “If I could get out of this bath some time this month I would be grateful.”

In answer Elain dunks her jug into the water and promptly dumps its contents over him without warning. Lucien emerges from the torrent of water sputtering and shakes his head like a dog, spraying her with water and causing her to squeal in protest and jump back.

Approaching him again with a little warning growl to tell him to behave himself Elain settles herself at his back and continues her rinsing, combing her fingers slowly and luxuriously through his silken hair until he groans and leans back into her touch.

Lying almost horizontally, face appearing upside down to her he says, “You’re very good at that you know.” She presses a swift kiss to his lips then nudges him upright again so she can finish what she’s doing, shaking her head slightly at him, though another smile tugs at her lips in response to his antics.

Through the sleek, wet curtain of his red hair her fingers sometimes can’t help brushing against the crisscrossing patterns of scars on his back. The laughter that had been blooming in her chest dies and strips the smile from her lips along with it each time she does so.

She’s grown used to his scars since their mating – there isn’t an inch of his body that she’s unfamiliar with any more – the physical ghosts of the violence he’s endured that patterns his skin don’t usually bother her but today…Today.

Lucien shifts slightly, sensing the change in her mood but before he can say anything about it she blurts out faintly, “Do you have to go?”

A stupid, childish question but she can’t help herself. It’s been gnawing away at her all day, the words circling around and around in her head like gore crows over a killing field. Lucien freezes in response to them, his body taking on that immortal stillness she still hasn’t managed to achieve and doubts she ever will.

But in spite of that she stumbles on, mechanically continuing the rinsing of his hair as she does so, as though she can anchor herself to reality with them, as though they can keep her from falling apart. The repetitive motions are soothing, something to cling to as panic flares and her world, the one she’s only just learned how to live in, how to love, pitches violently and tears itself out from beneath her.

“I hate the thought of it,” she gets out through gritted teeth, voice brittle.

It’s a thought that’s kept her awake these past few nights – nights she’s spent just watching him sleep, softly running her fingers through his hair, listening to the steady rhythm of his deep breathing – a sound that’s come to be one of her favourites in this world – one she’s not sure she knows how to live without any more.

Everything about them feels so right to her. She’s never been this sure of anything before in her life. She let Feyre and Nesta be stubbornly and defiantly sure about it all while she just did her best to manage, to adapt to whatever new circumstances were thrown her way, doing what she could to just get on, whether she knew exactly what was happening to them or not. But this she’s sure of. Him she’s sure of. Their souls were forged to be together and losing that, losing him…

Her mind has dwelled on it for days. Lucien, her Lucien, in a battle, in a war. Fighting and bleeding and – She closes her eyes, shaking herself, fists clenching tightly as she refuses to finish that thought and instead says, “I can’t stand it, Lucien, I can’t.”

“I know,” he murmurs quietly, such a profound sense of empathy in his words that she opens her eyes.

A flutter from the bond communicates his wants to her and she shifts to his side again so he can see her.

Reaching out he takes her hand in his and kisses it, massaging her knuckles with his thumb. “I know,” he says again, looking into her eyes this time, cupping her cheek tenderly in his hand. “But I have to go,” he murmurs and she swallows, nestling in to his touch. “This is war Elain and I, I have to fight,” he tells her. She closes her eyes, burying in against his neck, trying not to tremble, to be strong, like Feyre.

”For you,” he whispers faintly and she opens her eyes again to meet his. She finds them blazing and fierce and determined despite the fear she feels radiating from him, “And for all the people in these lands that I promised to serve and protect.”

He had made that same oath to Tamlin and however the High Lord had abused it, and him, he still feels guilty about breaking the vow. He won’t do so again, she knows. And she can’t ask him to but…

Continuing her absent washing of him, just wanting to touch him, wanting to physically connect them, she says, “I want to go with you.” She feels him flinch in response to that but she looks up, making him meet her eyes. “I’m your  mate,” she says, hating the tears that suddenly line her eyes and clog her throat, making her voice wobble when she so wants it to be stern and sure and defiant, like Nesta’s is when she growls at the world and orders it to shape itself to her will.

“I’m your mate,” she says again, slapping the surface of the water with her palm in frustration, “I should be with you – to keep you safe – to bring you home-“She breaks off, turning away so he can’t see how upset she is, though she knows he can likely sense it through their bond in spite of that.

The feel of his hand on hers is the only thing that stops her shaking.

“You can’t,” he says, his voice, usually always tinted with that playful irreverent edge is now heartbreakingly gentle. But that hint of humour drifts back in when he adds wryly, “It just wouldn’t be fair to the other side,” she looks up at him, blinking away her tears in bemusement, “You’d wipe the floor with them, plum, we have to give them half a chance.”

He winks at her and she can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips in spite of everything. Dipping her hand into his bath she trails her fingers through it pensively for a few moments then withdraws them and flicks water from the ends of her fingers at him in mild reproach. That makes him smile too, his scar stretching slightly and his eyes crinkling in that way they do.

Surging forwards unexpectedly Elain takes his face between her hands and kisses him again, open and rough and messy as love for him burns through her so fiercely she knows if she doesn’t do this, doesn’t do something, it will consume her entirely. So she does this, she kisses him as hard as she can – a claim on him, her mate, her partner, her home- and he allows it and responds in kind.

Breathing heavily as she pulls away she drags her fingers through his hair, just to anchor herself to some part of him.

“I’m scared, Lucien,” she breathes onto his lips, her eyes closed, her forehead pressed against his.

Selfish. Selfish of her to make him think of that, of her fears, on the eve of a battle that might very well hurt him or maim him or kill him- She chokes on the very thought of it. But whatever dangers he might face or fears that might plague him she needs him. She needs to hear him reassure her. She needs his words to wrap around her and make her feel alright. Even if it’s all lies she just needs to hear him say that they’ll get through this. Somehow.

“If you’re hurt-“she whispers, pressing in as close as she can to him with the copper tub in the way, breaking off, struggling to former her tumultuous thoughts into words. His hand tangles in her hair, resting on her cheek again, thumb softly stroking her skin, trying to soothe and calm her, “If you don’t come back to me- If I lose you-“

Her voice breaks on that last word, that last awful suggestion and he stands abruptly from the bath at the sound, unable to bear it. She watches the water run in rivulets down his lean, muscled body, drinking in every inch of him.

As he steps from the tub she rises to her feet too to meet him as he steps to her. Hooking his fingers under her chin he coaxes her to lift her eyes from the floor to look at him, “Everything will be all right,” he whispers, so sincerely that she believes him for a few heartbeats, believes that it will be, that he would stop this whole war then and there with nothing but his love and his promise and his will to make it so for her.

He raises his hands and holds her face gently between them. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead he says, “It will be all right. I’ll be fine. I’ll come back. I’ll come home to you, Elain. You will never lose me.”

“You promise me?” she breathes, trembling at his touch, at the mere thought of its impossible absence.

A promise. A vow to her – binding as the mating bond that tethers their souls – one it’s unfair of her to ask him to make, one he can’t have any way of knowing he can keep but she needs it. Even if it’s as hollow and empty as her heart would be without him. She needs it.

“Promise me,” she says again, not a question this time but a request, a plea, a prayer to him.

“I promise,” he whispers.

The reverberations of that oath shudder to her down their bond – the depth of it, the sincerity within in it, for her, staggers her.

Without hesitation she flings herself into his arms and embraces him, feeling him lift her clean off the floor against his body. This male. Her mate. A few months ago he likely wouldn’t have cared if he came back at all; wouldn’t have thought it mattered. But for her he’d promise this, so strongly she still feels it pulsing in her core right alongside their bond.

She’s never felt anything so fiercely as she feels her love for him now. She was never one to rage and burn and howl defiance at the world. That had always been Nesta. She had only ever endured, quiet and unassuming, a gentle blossom finding a way to grow between the cracks in a paving stone. But for him, for Lucien, for the love for him that consumes her she feels fire blaze up inside her soul –his fire- filling her with warmth and light and life.

She meets his lips as they descend to claim hers in a rough kiss. She doesn’t care that he’s still soaked through; doesn’t care that water is plastering her dress to her; doesn’t give a damn about any of it. All she wants is him. Her body craves his. Her skin needs his touch. Her mouth demands his tongue. Her soul calls for his everything. And he gives it to her.

Lifting her securely in his arms he carries her from the bathing room to the adjoining bedroom. The moment he sets her down, so carefully, letting her find her feet before he releases her like always, she takes charge.

Following the mix of urges barrelling into her body from both the mating bond and her own deep, primal instincts she reaches up to him. Her hand slides around behind his neck and draws him down to her. Kissing him she presses herself against him and nudges him back, coaxing him to take step after step until he hits the bed behind them. Then she pushes him gently down onto it.

He obliges her, sinking down onto the soft mattress but stretches up and reaches for her almost at once, as though he can’t bear to be apart from her for even these few bare seconds. Taking a fistful of her light, sodden dress he tugs her softly to him.

Slowly, Elain crawls onto the bed beside him but as his hands slide deftly and surely to her hips, ready to settle her down and place himself over her as they usually do, she straddles him instead. Lucien’s eyes go wide as she settles herself astride him, hitching her dress up around her hips, getting it out of their way, wanting nothing between them but sweat and skin.

Leaning down she kisses him as she mounts him and swallows the moan he presses onto her tongue at the feel of her around him. Sitting up slowly she takes both of his hands in hers and, knowing what she wants, he locks his arms against the mattress giving her something to brace against.

His eyes fill with wonder and awe as she begins to move upon him. The way he looks at her in that moment makes her feel like she might be the Mother incarnate, eternal, blissful, consuming -a goddess made flesh before him.

Closing her eyes and letting the feeling of him filling every part of her being she whimpers and whispers his name and hears him echo hers back to her with each gentle thrust. Heat swells in her core and she grips his hands, solid and real as pleasure begins to overwhelm her and she loses herself in him, in this, in them. As she feels them both reach for the beckoning oblivion that will take them she opens herself to him and lets that bond blaze through her soul until there’s no way of separating them or the eternity she demands whatever fates that control this world permit her with him. And every time she sinks down onto him she claims him and calls him home.


Keep reading

When You Meet the Hot Head in Red

Only one of the many possible ways that you could meet the amazing Raph, I hope you enjoy.

     It was raining when you got off work, the drops of cold water seeping into your ineffective jacket. You were just about to curse this shitty day; first you woke up to find that there was no food in the fridge or any of the cabinets so you left for school hungry, being hungry ment that you were grumpy and none of your friends wanted to incur your angry tears so they avoided you, you had to stay behind to take a test so you were almost late for work, your boss decided to keep you for the difference so you missed your bus, and you had the bright idea to walk home because you didn’t want to wait in the rain for the buss. ((Waiting for the buss in the rain in the rain… No NV fans?))

    You were almost to the subway station that would take you home when you heard a strange pathetic sound. The strange sound came from below you, where a storm drain was placed, looking down you saw the sad sight of a kitten looking up at you from between the slats of iron. The pathetic mewling tugged at your heartstrings and you found yourself bending down to get the grate off. With a lot of difficulty, grunting, and the help of a pipe you found in a nearby alleyway you managed to lift the grate up enough for you to drop down. The kitten, being afraid of your colorful use of language had retreated away from you, you had knelt down to get the poor shivering thing to trust you when the grate suddenly shifted and fell into its proper place.

    “Oh fucking hell!” You yelled up at the offending iron gate. Your cry was met with a face full of water from the road, and soft growling from the darkness a few feet away from you. You turn surprised, looking down for the kitten. “W-who’s there? O-or what?” You ask, raising the pipe that fell in with you. Your eyes scanned the shadows as you looked for the defenseless kitten that could now be in danger.

Keep reading

5 Tips for Story Ideas

I’ve had a few people ask me how I come up with ideas for my stories and how I can keep going on a daily basis. There are a lot of different ways out there to do this, but I fall back on these when I don’t have one in mind already. Hopefully these five tips can help you out!

1.  Write everything down

My number one piece of advice is that any idea that you have has the potential to turn into an awesome story. Sometimes you’ll write something and think that it is rather mundane because it just was so obvious in your head, but then you show it to someone else, and they find it original and interesting. Write down every idea and review them occasionally. It feels a lot better to look through a pile of source material than trying to remember a forgotten thought.

2. Look at prompts.

There are a ton of places to find them and a lot of them are extremely good. Sometimes they manage to tell a story in the prompt itself. Othertimes it’s just a few words long. Both are useful in their own rights. The more complete ones, in a story sense, are really good for creating a derivative idea. Basically, you can stick to the same rough idea, but change up the subjects or activity to get an original idea. The ones that are just a short blast of words are a little trickier to work with. Sometimes you’ll get a flash of insight and know what to write. Most of the time, at least for me, they’ll fall flat, and you’ll end up scrolling through pages of them until one snaps a story into your head. Perhaps lost Russian subs and North Dakota Highway 21 (both taken from the magical ‘Random Article’ button on Wikipedia) could inspire you in ways you never thought possible.

3. Trying to associate two unrelated things.

Take two extremely dissimilar ideas and bash them together until something common between the two sticks. Easy ones already have a few things in common, like strawberries and sunburn. These normally sound pretty elegant and sensible when you first write them out. The downside is that they may have been written enough to become kind of cliche. It’ll make a nice story, but more effort will be put into making the story interesting than trying out new ideas. Harder ones sit so far apart at the ends of the spectrum, you will feel absolutely stretched trying to find a similarity between the two of them.

4. Stare at nothing for a little bit.

For this, you basically need to engage daydream mode. It’s really easy to be constantly stimulated in today’s world, and if I were to guess, overall daydreaming has probably decreased since the introduction of the iPhone. Being able to have some quiet, non-organized, thinking time leads to some fantastically strange and amazing ideas. Getting into this mode is a little hard to force, so don’t expect this to be your main wellspring of ideas. Again, make sure you record the ideas that visit your mind. What might seem like a silly thought now, could be just what you need to start your next story, novel, or invention.

5. Checking out the news or history

Everyday conflict happens around the world that plays out in unpredictable ways. You can change the players in this conflict and the stakes to come up with your own creative work. It may seem like cheating, but I guarantee you that once you start writing it out, new ideas will fill your head, and the scene or story will become your own.

If any of this sparks a story idea for you, and you happen to write it out, please share below! 

Too Cute

For the Anon who want Y/N to kiss Bucky for being cute.

Sebastian Stan pulls the cutest faces


Bucky wasn’t as “Technically Challenged” as Steve could be. He had been given basic learning on everything new and useful each time he was thawed out – what use was an out of date soldier after all? He could drive, fly, ride and even sail almost anything, his computing skills meant he could do basic hacks, find files, shut down systems and steal information without too much trouble. Weapons, earwigs, sabotage were all in his repertoire…he could even put the time on an old VCR!

But his phone? No.

Sometimes he and Steve would pretend to have no idea just to wind everyone up and sometimes Bucky’s phone became a deadly projectile. So when Y/N walked up the stairs toward her apartment and found Bucky sat at her door, a dark cap keeping his hair out of the way whilst he made faces at his phone, she couldn’t help but shake her head at him. ‘How long have you been waiting?’ She asked and sat on the doorstep beside him.

'About an hour…’ he was distracted by the phone, his expression squashed slightly as he stared at the small screen, there was a crease between his eyebrows and a wrinkle along his nose bridge. His tongue, though, his tongue was peeking out between his lips and he looked utterly adorable. ’…I’ll be…like…’ his voice trailed off,  right thumb sliding over the screen awkwardly, the metal digits didn’t register on the phone.
She continued to watch him, his lips pursing this time and then something beeped – Bucky’s eyebrows reached his hairline, eyes widening and jaw dropping a little. His head and shoulders went back, as if he were pulling away from something flying in his face, he did it again a second later and his expression was something akin to a stunned cat. It was utterly adorable and Y/N couldn’t have stopped herself from kissing his cheek if she’d tried.

The expression remained, only this time he turned to stare at her in bewilderment and she was laughing into his shoulder. 'You pull the funniest faces sometimes. You’re utterly adorable!’

Bucky felt his cheeks heating up as a blush was forcing its way up, his features relaxed into that familiar roguish smile, the one where he pulled his lips to the side, 'I was texting Steve, it got pretty intense. He’s been fighting in the gym for the last twenty minutes and three of his best were taken down.’ He was so blasé about it that it was her turn to raise her eyebrows and make a funny face.

'Then what are you doing sat here?! Your friend is in trouble…we should call the police or the army or…I don’t know – Assemble or something!’ What was wrong with him? 'And how is Steve texting whilst fighting?!’ Her voice had reached a couple of octaves higher and she was pulling on his arm in an attempt to pull him to his feet, 'Come on!’

'Babydoll,’ with an effortless yank he pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, 'He’s playing PokemonGo. He just took Tony’s gym down – That’s why I was pulling a face. I didn’t think he’d manage it.’ He nuzzled into her neck affectionately until she had relaxed in his hold and her rapid heartbeat calmed down from worrying about Steve, 'Will you always kiss me when I pull faces?’

Their eyes locked and she nodded silently, admiring his handsome features now that they weren’t scrunched up – then without warning, she blew in his face. Laughing at the new face he pulled and kissing his cheek again, 'Minx.’ He groused slightly and gave her a little squeeze, his phone beeped again and he lifted it to read, 'Steve again…Ugh!’ A disgusted wrinkle of his nose and a disapproving frown distorted Bucky’s face as he read, 'He’s in Team Yellow – son of a b-mmf!’ Y/N covered his mouth with hers.

Bucky was the most adorable man she’d ever met.