because face off was so good last night

Smart Mouth

Pairing: Alexander x Reader

Requested?: Yeah buddy!

Prompt: “owo what’s this?- I mean can I request a Alex x Reader where they argue A LOT and Alex ends up confessing to R in one of the arguments pls??”

Words: 2.4k+ (my longest one so far)

Dedications: Huge thanks to my best friend @helplesslylins and my twin @secretschuylersister for helping through this long process and proofreading for me! I love you both <3 Also, @fragmentofmymind I know you’ve been waiting for this so here you go ;) Lastly, @shinymarbles I think this was your request but if it wasn’t then sorry for the tag!

(A/N: So glad this is finally done, I hope you enjoy!)

Originally posted by thetrashcannot

“You’re impossible, Alexander!” You groaned, rubbing your temples and turning away from the short-tempered man. It was barely 9 am and he was already at your throat over your choice of cereal. Well, the cereal wasn’t for you, it was for the guy who was currently lounging in your bed after a rather fun hook up.

“I’m just saying. Anybody who willingly asks for Cheerios must be clinically insane.” Alexander shrugged, sipping what was probably his 5th cup of coffee.

“You know, maybe if you didn’t chug coffee so much, you could reach the top shelf of a bookcase.” You brushed past Alexander, going down the hall towards your room.

“I’m not short! I’m vertically challenged!” He yelled after you, grumbling as you disappeared into the room.

Your relationship with Alexander was…complicated, for a lack of better words. You were friends, though based off the amount you guys argued anyone would think you hated each other. The bickering between you two was at an all time high as of recently and it was confusing you. Something as simple as a movie selection ended up in a 20 minute debate that only came to a conclusion thanks to Herc grabbing the remote and picking something. Alex’s usual light teasing tone was now masked with another emotion that you couldn’t decipher. There’s a clear shift and you weren’t sure how to go about it.

Soon after he finished his cereal and got your number, the man who’s name you now knew as James left your apartment. The door could barely shut before Alex was speaking again.

“Sex was probably mediocre at best.” He called over his shoulder, eyes on the computer as he typed away furiously. You sighed and rested your forehead on the door before turning to face him.

“It was actually great, want a play-by-play?” You sauntered over to him, standing in front of his computer and crossing your arms. Alex made a show of gagging before covering his mouth.

Keep reading

Making out with... Doyoung


Anon: First make out with doyoung, pleease!

Anon! Here is your request! I hope you like it and please send in feedback so I can improve my blog :-D 


Flo xx

Originally posted by taesyong

my loyalty towards tae is really testing me doyoung looked so good this comeback like srsly he is such bf material lol i love him 

  • Very playful
  • Starts with Eskimo kisses where he just rubs his nose against yours
  • Then kisses your nose
  • And forehead
  • And cheeks
  • And then a lot of quick pecks on your lips
  • You usually make out before sleeping
  • You’ll be wrapped in his arms
  • A lot of pillow talk
  • Then he’ll start kissing you everywhere
  • This makes you laugh and giggle at this boy
  • Since you’re very ticklish
  • And he knows it lol
  • When he gets to your lips, he’ll be smiling the entire way through
  • It gets deep most of the time obvs
  • He usually gives you quick pecks during the day
  • So this is your only chance to really go for it lmao
  • He’ll hum a lot too
  • Out of pleasure
  • Which makes it even better because the vibrations rush straight to you know sensitive areas lmao
  • Likes to rub his hands on your waist
  • He likes the curve of it and how his hand fits perfectly
  • very messy kisser too
  • A lot of saliva exchanged
  • But u don’t care because its doyoung lol
  • Honestly though
  • His mouth would be quite open too
  • Letting you take dominance over the kiss
  • Make outs will last anything from 10 minutes to half an hour
  • It’s a good way to pass the time
  • When he pulls away, he’ll smile so widely
  • Literally its like you’ve had sex or something with him
  • He’s happy enough to just kiss you
  • Goes around for the rest of the day showing off
  • “Ya know, Y/N and I kissed last night”
  • “What the fuck, get out my face Doyoung”
  • You feel so embarrassed afterwards
  • And vow never to kiss him again
  • But that never happens lets be honest
  • It makes you happy to see him happy because of it though
  • It just makes you want to kiss him more
  • Doyoung would be very playful and giggly when making out with you - he couldn’t control himself around you hahah

Making out with… series

For @jercmevaleska who made the v good point that Jack Whitehall’s story about having to hide a girl under his covers would make a great Jily au so!!!! Here we go!!!!!

Lily swears blind that when she apparated out of her house last night and snuck into James’s Fuck Off Massive mansion through his bedroom window, she’d only wanted to talk to him. Except she’d shaved her legs before she left so maybe that’s not entirely true, but whatever, she doesn’t overthink it. This, now, is nice. She woke up with her legs entangled with James’s, swamped in one of his t-shirts, with her face tucked into his chest, and it all felt disconcertingly good considering that they’re just meant to be mates. Mates who snog sometimesJames sleeps like its a competitive sport, because of course he does, fidgeting and twisting, limbs stretched like he’s trying to cover as much surface area as possible, half in and half out of the covers to maintain the perfect body temperature, probably, the arsehole. Lily got at least three elbows to the face during the night, and possibly one knee, though she isn’t sure how he managed that. He seems to have settled down a little now, though. Its 7am, which is weird, because Lily is awake and as a rule she doesn’t wake up before 11 unless is absolutely necessary, but she’s kind of glad she did.

She props herself up on one elbow and brushes some hair off of James’s face, just because she can. There’s pale sunlight filtering through the windows and its lighting up dust motes and softening the angles of James’s face. Its odd, seeing him without his glasses on, makes him look younger, somehow. 


If she hadn’t already been a complete and utter goner before, she certainly was now. Before she can worry about this too much, James seems to sense her presence or something, because his eyes flutter a little and Lily quickly lies back down so she doesn’t look like a creep. He slowly sits up, and glances down at her, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. To his credit, the grin he gives her is a little smug, but it hasn’t quite reached shit-eating levels. 

‘Morning, Lils.’

‘Morning, James.’

James lies back down, and for a second they just watch each other across the stretch of pillow. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but is abruptly cut off by a yell of ‘James, have you seen this?’ There’s a rattle at the door, and before Lily can register whats going on, James’s eyes are widening and a hand is on her head, pushing her down beneath the covers. 

James-’ she hisses, but he just shushes her urgently and yanks the covers up further. 

‘The bloody Ministry, Archibald Cattermole of all people, Head Auror! At a time like this! They’re off their rockers, the lot of them-’ Lily had met Fleamont a few times, liked him a lot, but Jesus Christ did the man really have to barge into his son’s room at the crack of dawn to discuss politics? She hears the shuffle of a newspaper, and then ‘Archibald Cattermole, James! Are you listening?’

‘Yeah, dad, what a joke. The bloke’s probably never gone on the offensive in a game of chess.’

‘Exactly my point, James, what chance is he going to have against the Death Eaters-’ 

‘We need someone with some guts-’ 

Lily sighs, and rolls her eyes, settling down a bit. If she’s going to be here whilst James and his Dad try to discuss the entire Wizarding World out of the biggest crisis it’s seen in a thousand years, she may as well get comfy. That doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it, though, so she gives James a good pinch behind the knee for good measure, grinning when he attempts to kick her but just ends up knocking a pillow off the bed. 

‘Everything all right, James?’ asks his father. James chokes. 

‘Oh- of course- all fine and dandy here-’ 

‘James, sweetie,’ Lily recognises the voice of James’s mother, ‘Do you want some tea?’ 

Lily assumes James doesn’t get much say in the matter of whether or not he’s having tea, because she hears footsteps cross the room, and then James is reaching up to accept the mug.

‘Tah, mum, I was- ah, just about to get dressed, actually. Would you mind-’ But he’s cut off by his father who has begun reading a statement from the Minister.

‘’I believe I speak on behalf of the entire Ministry in saying that-’ Oh, Sirius! Come here, you’ll be interested in this- ‘in saying that we have chosen the most competent-’ -ha!- ‘and adept man for the job-’’ 

Lily groans inwardly, wondering if it’s a normal occurrence for the entire Potter household to converge in James’s bedroom at 7 in the morning for an incredibly sarcastic reading of the Prophet. She hears more footsteps as who she presumes to be Sirius enters the room.

‘Morning, Potters. All right there, James? You’re looking a bit constipated this morning, mate. Oh, thanks Mrs Potter-’ Lily thinks that she’d quite like a cup of tea right now, and maybe she’d have gotten some if James hadn’t forced her into hiding. Part of her wants to pop up from beneath the covers, hoping they’d all do the proper English thing: pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary and offer her a cup of tea. She can’t sell James out for a cuppa, though, and the implications of emerging from beneath the covers half way down the bed probably aren’t the best, so she settles for running a hand up James’s thigh just to watch him squirm. 

‘’-And we’ll continue to do everything in our power to protect our way of life from the people who seek to destroy it.’ Well, I have never read such a load of codswallop in my life.’ 

There’s a general hum of agreement.

‘Voldemort’ll have the Ministry under his thumb by the end of the month, you just watch.’ adds Euphemia. 

That’s why I bet Dumbledore must be planning something,’ says Sirius, ‘He must know the Ministry’s useless- and he’s not the type to sit back and let them fuck everything up for the rest of us-’

‘Language, Sirius.’ chides Euphemia, but she doesn’t sound particularly bothered. ‘Though you’re right, of course.’

‘More flawed than people think, I reckon, old Dumbledore,’ says Fleamont, ‘But he’s the best chance we’ve got. That’s for sure. What do you reckon, James, you’re being uncharacteristically quiet on the subject?’

‘What? Oh, Dumbledore? Brilliant man, he is. Completely bonkers, of course, but if anyone’s got a chance against Voldemort, its him. Bloody shame he wont take on the role of Minister, if you ask me. The Ministry could really do with somebody with his brains running things. Anyway, I really do want to get ready, now-’ 

It carries on like this for what feels like an hour, but in reality is closer to about fifteen minutes. James keeps trying to make half-hearted excuses to kick the lot of them out, but he’s thwarted at every turn by his father remembering something else to be outraged about. When they’ve finally left, James yanks back the covers and peers down at Lily sheepishly. She’s lying on her stomach, staring daggers at him. 

‘Is your family insane?’ she asks, sitting up and shifting over to sit besides him stroppily. ‘Its 7:15 in the morning! What do you discuss at dinner? How to end world hunger? Throw about some ideas for curing bloody cancer?’

‘Look, I’m sorry, my parents are just a bit passionate, and I didn’t want the first time you met them to be like that!’ 

Lily rolls her eyes. 

‘James, I’ve met your parents like, five times.

‘I know but- the first time you met them as- you know-’

Lily makes a confused face. 

‘As what?’

‘Like- well- my girlfriend.’

Lily scoffs. ‘We have sex like, once- maybe four times, and suddenly I’m your girlfriend?’ 

James shrugs. 

‘Well- I mean, not if you don’t want to be, but come on, Lils. You basically are. We snog quite a lot, and neither of us have snogged anyone else in like, months. We go on dates. The other week we bought Peter a joint birthday present for Merlin’s sake.’ 

Lily stares at him. She feels her mouth hanging open and promptly closes it. Then she takes a few steps forward and kisses him on the mouth. 

‘Does- does that mean we’re a thing?’ James asks after a few seconds of this. Lily shrugs. 

‘I don’t know. Still considering it. Will it mean next time I stay over I wont have to face near suffocation and your mother will offer me a cup of tea?’ 


She kisses him again. 

‘Well, that improves your chances.’ 

yalenayardeen  asked:

35. “is that my shirt?” + rhycien

from this ask meme!

“Is that my shirt?” Lucien hears as he stumbles out of the bathroom, squinting against the morning light, head throbbing. He freezes when he realizes his bed isn’t as empty as he’d thought it was. 


Sprawled on the side of the mattress he hadn’t even looked at when he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, is Rhys. He’s entirely naked, lounging on the bed like it’s his throne, mussed sheets pushed down around his ankles. And from the looks of it, he’s ready for more of what they’d done last night. 

Lucien glances down at himself and realizes the shirt he fished around for is in fact Rhys’s, what he’d been wearing last night.  “Apparently so.”  He wants to smack the look off of Rhys’s face, but doesn’t get through the mental processes to do that, because Rhys just lifts up on one elbow, pulling Lucien down the rest of the way onto his bed. 

“It looks good on you,” he murmurs, before tugging his mouth down to meet his waiting lips.

“Everything looks good on me,” Lucien grunts, unable to resist the pull of Rhys’s hands as he eases the shirt back over his head. 

“Luckily for both of us, you look better nude,” Rhys murmurs, nipping at his lip sharp enough that Lucien hisses, the shirt left discarded behind them. 

I am so tired of Louis never being given credit for the wonderful things he does. These days, literally every single good thing he does, every gesture, every word; is discredited; brushed off as something he had to do, a stunt, ‘his team’ doing it, twisted to fit one conspiracy or other. Can’t we just accept things at face value once in a while, and acknowledge that maybe Louis just wanted to do something nice, because he is a good person and he wants to make other people happy?

Last night was a perfect example of that. I was disappointed not to see him at the Brits. I had assumed because he was there last year when he had nothing to promote that this year, he’d go, especially when he had music to promote, an award to possibly win, and when he did the promo for the nominees show and said how important they in particular were to him. When he flew in 3 days before, it seemed pretty much a given that he’d attend. And it was strange to not have him there and not know why; especially as he was on social media and didn’t appear at the time to have other things going on. And when he posted the video it was such a sweet gesture, to show that it was still important to him that we voted, that he still appreciated the award, that he wasn’t taking it for granted. And it was great that he was getting to spend time with his family. Yet I still wasn’t sure why he chose to go back home at that specific time, why he chose then of the several nights he had been home to do something with them, especially because it really would benefit his solo career to be with the music industry people.

Then, I realized that there was a reason for it. Louis specifically chose that time and that night *because* it was the night of the Brits. His mum went to the Brits with him last year, and I believe she did in prior years. He spoke very fondly of sharing his first Brit win with her, and always said how special they were to him. And, his family probably always watched the Brits together, or, once he was there himself, attended it. Louis PURPOSELY stayed home to do something with them, because it was more important to be there for and with them for support because the Brits was a big thing to his family. Watching it with them and maybe having dinner or something was his top priority and he wanted to show that, instead of being about himself and going to promote himself. Then, to add to that, he then made us a really sweet video, which was posted only 12 minutes after the award was announced, proving that while his family means everything to him, he really does care about us and is grateful for the things he wins too. And not only did I totally understand it then, but I was so proud of him for it.

And seeing people dismiss it and brush it aside and say ‘he could have tweeted that’ or making it about him refusing to attend the awards show for some sort of rebellion or to fit some theory, I just felt like I needed to say something, this time. He went out of his way to make everyone happy, and why is it never good enough for people? He really does do special things to show how much he cares whenever he can, and, too many people dismiss them and turn them into something they’re not. He deserves more credit in all areas than this fandom ever gives him.

Reggie x Reader - request Part 4 x Jughead (who am I kidding)

Anonymous asked:

Can you do an imagine where you’re Archie sister and you’re dating Reggie. Someone lets it slip that you lost your virginity to him and he tells Archie “sorry I took your sister virginity won’t happen again” and Archie punched him and a fight breaks out

Warnings: Some sexual content as well as strong language

FYI: I changed the prompt a little in order for it fit the setting I made up for it. I’ve been asked to make a Part 4, hope you like it and thanks for the request!

Word Count: 1243

My insomnia came back tonight so I did this as well as another part to In Your Head as requested. Thanks for reading and sorry this is going into a different train of thought now.

You felt like the day was going by really slowly. In between periods you saw your brother talking to Betty and hoped it was a good sign for both of them. Your brother really needed to get his feelings out for the girl. She was too sweet not to have something great.

Walking to your next class you couldn’t help but peer up and see the back of someone’s head with a gray beanie on. Without realizing, you started to blush. Hoping that lunch would come sooner.

“Soooo….who you looking at?”, Veronica appeared to the side of you slightly grasping your arm to get your view.

“Uhhh no one”, it didn’t sound very convincing. 

 “Well Reggie isn’t over there and I KNOW you wouldn’t be blushing because of him, so spill”, her face was now in front of you. 

You gave a sigh. “Fine but you can’t tell anyone. Not Betty or Kev and especially not Archie”, your eyes gave a slight roll. 

“Sounds juicy. I promise, scouts honor”, Veronica lifted two fingers up. 

“Ronnie, you weren’t a scout….”, your nerves were bottling up but at the same time maybe telling someone would be a good idea. 

“Oh come on already”, Veronica swished her hand in front of you. 

“Fine. When I dropped the guys off the other night, I dropped Juggie off last. We started talking and then he uh…”, Veronica’s eyes were widening, “kissed me”. Your eyes drew back to hers. 

“…and?”, Veronica was waiting for more. She started to walk in the direction of your class. 

“And what? He wants to talk to me at lunch”, you were exasperated in your words and you felt your face becoming flushed again. 

“And what do you want to happen? I mean I know you guys were practically raised together but I have to say, it makes sense”, Veronica seemed very sure in her words. 

“Yeah well considering Saturday and how I’m now the joke for the week, I don’t want to give any of my hopes up right now…”, you knew the bell was going to ring soon but Veronica didn’t seem to care. 

“Oh come on! Your a total catch. Reggie and his goons are just jerks. Look you have one more period and then you get your answer. It will go well, I promise”, she gave a slight pat to your shoulder and you went to your classes. 

Maybe she was right. 

You started to make your way through the cafeteria to head outside when you heard a familiar voice again. “Hey Y/N! Want to go somewhere we can talk! I hear your great at that!”, it was Chuck again while Reggie was egging him on. You decided to confront the situation. 

You grabbed the drink off your tray while looking flirtatious to Chuck. “Well gee Chuck, you know I would feel honored”, Chuck gave a wink, “but I think you’ll have to clean up first”, as you said your remaining words, you dumped your soda down Chuck’s head while Reggie and what seemed like a good handful of people laughed. 

You turned and may your way outside, determined to find Jughead. 

“You need me to buy you a drink?”, you turned your head and once again saw Jughead. 

“Heh. I suppose, mine was used for greater purposes”, you shook the empty can. 

Jughead gave a big smile, “So I saw. Come on”, he nudged his head behind you, leading to a door and you followed. 

You realized you were heading towards a hallway, “Where are you taking me Juggie?” 

“Somewhere we can talk…”, he had determination in his walk. 

“We can’t talk in an empty hallway?”, you still had your tray in hand. 

“Shh”, he slightly grabbed your wrist leading to a door under the stairs. 

“Juggie…where are you taking me?”, he began to open the door while you were wondering if this was a hidden classroom or not. He pulled you into the room and turned on a slight light. You looked around the room seeing a few books, a sleeping bag and some posters that once adorned Jughead’s room. “Jughead….” 

“Look it’s fine alright? We just needed somewhere to talk about all of this”, he slightly motioned to the two of you. 

“Jughead, what happened? Was it your dad?”, you decided to sit on the sleeping bag and he sat down next to you. You automatically gave him half of your plate.

“Yeah he uh fell off the wagon, big time”, you could tell he seemed embarrassed.   

“You should have told me. Or Archie for that matter”, the thought of your brother knowing your new found feelings for Jughead seemed like something you didn’t want to bring up.  

“It’s fine…it’s just temporary until…”, you cut him off his words. 

“Until you move into our house tonight”, you smiled. 

“No no, I shouldn’t. It’s really not your guys’ problem”, his voice became small again. 

“Juggie. You’re coming home with me tonight. No discussion”, you thought now or never “and uh…well I mean it surely won’t be all bad”. 

“Why?”, he finally faced you and decided to give into your feelings, you grasped the sides of his face and brought his lips to yours. He seemed a little stunned at first until his lips softened one hand moved to grasp your waist the other to a side of your face in return. The kiss became deeper, his tongue was now circling with yours. Your hands moved to the back of his hair until he finally parted your lips for a breath. 

He gave a slight chuckle while meeting his forehead with yours. “I guess we don’t have to talk about the other night then”. 

“Well I have one condition”, his ears perked a little while his eyes were curious. “Whatever this is”, you moved your hand to his chest, “I want to take it slow”. 

“I can do that”, he gave a slight smirk and brought his lips back to yours. 

 After a few more moments in the closet you both peered out the door. You had your tray behind Jughead who tugged your shirt telling you the coast was clear.

“So what about Archie?”, he got shy in his words. 

“Well he’ll be fine sharing his room with you”, you paused, “but uh maybe we don’t tell him just yet, or my dad. Just for a little bit”. 

“Alright”, the hall was still empty and Jughead stopped you from heading further down the hallway by once again tugging the bottom of your shirt. He brought you in for one more kiss, grasping your chin and bringing his soft lips to yours. “Sorry had to get one more in”, he smiled again while parting your mouth. 

“There you two are!”, Veronica chimed in with a slight smirk on her face. 

“Oh uh hi Veronica, we were just…”, you once again cut Jughead off. 

“Relax she already knows and she’s going to leave Archie out of it for now”, you chimed in giving some relief to Jughead’s nerves. He gave you a slight look of “why”. “Well I had to talk to someone about it.” 

“Yes yes and I’m happy for you two but your brother is looking for Jughead and I can only lie so much”, Veronica eyed the lunch room door. 

“Go. I’ll be there in a minute”, you gave him a peck on the cheek while his cheeks seemed to be a little flushed still.


Imagine a witch turns you into a dog, and Dean takes care of you until the spell wears off.


@irishgirl2001 said:

How about one where the reader gets turned into a dog on a witch hunt, and Dean takes care of her and fluff until the spell wears off?

Characters: Reader (as a dog), Reader (as a human), Dean

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,500

Things to know: At first, I had NO clue how I was going to write this request. Then this story just kind of came to me. I took a few “artistic” liberties if you will, but I hope you like it. I’m pleased with how it turned out. :)

Keep reading

roamingreader replied to your post “I’m taking short prompts if anyone wants to play. Tell me your desired…”

root pov, morning thunderstorm

The windows in Shaw’s new apartment feel vanishingly thin as rain batters the glass. Cold seeps in from everywhere and the top sheet and scratchy blanket aren’t enough to keep it out. It’s gray and bleak and might be just after sunrise–hard to tell. 

Aching for a little more warmth, you push your luck and burrow closer to Sameen. Lucky she’s still mostly asleep; she groans, shifts her arm, and lets you tuck yourself into the crook of her shoulder.

You close your eyes as the thunder rolls, heavy and slow, over the soundscape. Sameen doesn’t stir. She’s unflappable when she sleeps, heavy and soft and, now and then, like this morning, not-quite-snoring. Her warm body–and the unlikelihood of her waking–are your saving grace. She smells so good–clean and soapy; she showered last night with the new shampoo and conditioner you bought after the green combo goo she normally buys ran out–and her heartbeat replaces the thunder in your good ear as you press your face against her chest.

Must have dozed off, because the next thing you know, the light is struggling harder against the gloom. Sameen is looking down at you, curious. You meet her eyes. She holds your gaze, impassive and calm. The rain is still drumming against the window, but softer than before. 

“How long have you been awake?” you ask, your voice bleary.

“A few minutes.”

“Watching me sleep?”

“No,” she lies, and glances over at the window. Her body curls into yours; you shift onto your side and watch the rain with her. Thunder–faraway this time–rolls through the air.

“Mind if I don’t run down for breakfast sandwiches this morning?”

“We have cereal. And you brought home milk the other night.”

The rain shivers, glitters, a silvery veil over the city. It’s Sunday morning, an indeterminate hour, and the street is slowly grinding to life. A lonely horn sounds from below.

“Got plans today?” she asks.

“Not right away. Let’s stay warm for a little while longer.” 

Sameen smooths back your hair–a rare gesture–and rests her lips against the edge of your ear. She takes a deep breath, and together you watch the rain collide ineffectually against the window, the world outside powerless against this impermeable moment of time and space.

Imagine food fights with Chris.

With the sun relentlessly beaming down on your face, you were quickly aroused from your sleep. You were expecting a bad hangover after the night you had, but you woke with only a minor headache and slight fatigue; it was thanks to Chris, he had forced an Advil down your throat before putting you to bed.

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, turning to reach for Chris only to find his side of the bed empty. You propped yourself on your elbows, attempting to peer into the ensuite from where you were. The door was wide open and you couldn’t hear any sounds, which could only mean that Chris was downstairs having breakfast or watching TV, or he and Dodger had gone for their morning run.

God, how he could go for a run or do anything physical after last night was beyond you.

It wasn’t until you reached for his pillow that you noticed the note sitting on top of it. You pinched it off the pillow and laid on your back, holding it in front of your face. Your vision was fuzzy because you had only just woken up, and because you weren’t wearing your glasses, but you could make out what he’d scrawled across the paper.

Good morning, my sweet,

Dodger and I went out to get some fresh fruit for breakfast, we’ll be back soon. The coffee’s on the pot so if you’d like to get out of bed to have some while you wait for us to return, you’re more than welcome to. I doubt you’ll even be awake before we get back but- better safe than sorry.

Your ever-loving husband,

You smiled and stretched before getting out of bed, taking your glasses with you as you headed to the bathroom to clean up. You caught yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, noticing that you were still wearing Chris’ white dress shirt from the night before; both of you had spent it at the Oscars and its after party, which was where you and possibly Chris- you couldn’t remember- got ridiculously drunk. You pressed your nose into your shoulder and smiled because the shirt still smelt like he did; of bergamot, vanilla, and sandalwood.

You made your way downstairs and headed for the kitchen. You could smell the coffee even before you turned the corner. On the table was your favorite mug; Chris had gotten it for you for Christmas, it was white with blue snowflakes. You spotted another note with his handwriting, you picked it up and giggled when you read it.

Here I was thinking you were just going to stay fast asleep until Dodger and I got home. :P The cream and sugar are where they always are. I know it’s not Starbucks quality but I hope you enjoy your coffee anyway. If you need another Advil, take it.

You heard noises coming from the front door, then Chris’ voice and Dodger’s scuttling feet across the hardwood floor. You smiled and leaned against the marble counter, sipping your coffee as you waited for them to come through the archway.

“Well well well,” Chris smiled at you. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He kissed you on the cheek then moved to unpack the groceries. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be awake, I sent Dodger upstairs to go get you.”

“I could tell from the notes you left me,” you chuckled and drew one from him as well. “I’m surprised you’re awake, to be honest. You drank a lot more than I did.” You reminded him, putting your cup down with a thunk.

“You forget I’m a Bostonian,” he chuckled. “We don’t get drunk and we don’t have hangovers. It’s in our genes,” he shrugged nonchalantly and you laughed. “You’re lucky I made you take that Advil last night, otherwise you wouldn’t be laughing right now.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You hugged him from behind and kissed his shoulder blade. “What did you get?” You poked your head around him to peer at the bags that were filled with fresh fruit. “What are you going to make?”

“Pancakes,” he told you and you felt your smile widen. “These are just toppings. I even got…” He dragged out in a sing song voice, searching the bag for whatever he got. “Marshmallows!” He exclaimed excitedly, holding the bag of mini marshmallows in front of you.

“You’re such a kid,” you giggled.

“Gotta match my wife’s personality,” he teased then kissed the tip of your nose. “Shall we start?” He asked and you nodded. “Grab the mixing bowl and whisk, will you?” You nodded, doing as he asked. “Oh- and the milk and eggs from the fridge.” He instructed then padded over to the pantry to get the dry ingredients.

“Here you go,” you placed the needed items in front of him.

“Okay,” he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get pancaking. Hey-” he pointed at you and you raised an eyebrow. “No food fights,” he warned in a playful tone that meant the complete opposite of what he just said.

“Of course,” you nodded, biting back your smile.

Dodger joined the two of you in the kitchen just as you started mixing the batter. You had the job of pouring the ingredients in the bowl while Chris did the whisking of the mixture. You chatted about little things, laughing at events that had occurred the night before. You didn’t remember playing beer pong with Sebastian and Margarita until Chris reminded you; you and Chris were an unbeatable duo and Seb and Margo were absolutely smashed by the end of the game. You laughed, imagining how they must be feeling this morning.

“Hold it,” Chris stopped you and you narrowed your eyes in confusion. “You have something on your-” he dipped his pinky finger into the batter and poked it on the tip of your nose. “Nose,” he finished, biting back his smile.

“Wow,” you scoffed and chuckled at the same time. “Thank you, I didn’t notice it until just then. You know what though,” you dipped your hand into the bag of flour and grabbed a fistful of the white powder. “You have something-” you tossed it at him and he closed his eyes. “Oh, all over you face.” You said and pressed your lips together, laughing softly through your nose.

“Seriously?” His smile grew wider. “You wanna go big?” His hand dipped into the bag of flour and he tossed a handful in your face before you could dodge out of the way. “You have something all over your face as well.”

Dodger barked and drew both your and Chris’ attention onto him; the poor puppy was covered in flour too. You looked back at Chris and shook your head at him, “see what you did. Now he’s going to run all over the house and leave a trail of flour behind him.”

“Me?” He laughed. “You started the flour tossing, thank you very much. Look over there, look at all the flour behind you.” He pointed behind you and you turned. “Honestly, Y/N. It’s Sunday, I don’t want to spend the day cleaning the house.”

“There’s nothing-” You were met with another fistful of flour when you turned back to him. “Oh my God!” You laughed and he did the same, grabbing his left boob. “You’re such an asshole!” You slapped his arm.

“You look like a ghost,” he laughed louder.

“Well then you better match your wife,” you grabbed a fistful and tossed it at him. He dodged it with ease and snatched the bag away before you could grab another fistful. “Running scared, are we?” You challenged with a smug smile.

“Hey,” he held up the bag with one hand, “I’ve got the ammunition.”

“You’ve got no balls,” you placed your hands on your hips. “That’s why you’re cheating.”

He scoffed and shook his head. You watched as he slowly put the bag of flour down, the smirk on his face only meant trouble for you. You tried to make a run for it before he pounced, but you were too slow for the Super Soldier. He grabbed your waist and pulled you into his front, nuzzling his flour covered face into your neck. You shrieked with laughing, hunching in his grip.

“Stop!” You laughed.

“Let’s call a truce so we can have breakfast.”

“Okay okay!” You cried out, choking on your laughter. “Truce!”

The two of you focused on cooking the pancakes without anymore flour tosses, and it took about ten minutes but you finally had a plateful of deliciously fluffy pancakes. You sat on the cold marble bench top, swinging your legs back and forth as Chris cut up a pancake doused in maple syrup.

“You are absolutely filthy,” he chuckled as he fed you. “How is it?” He asked, before taking a bite himself.

“Fantastic,” you smiled then dipped your finger in the bowl of maple syrup. “Cut me another piece please.” You asked and he did; when he looked up from the plate, you touched the tip of his nose with the sticky syrup. “Who’s filthy now?” You asked with a smug smile.

“I don’t know…” He dipped his hand into the maple syrup and wiped it onto your cheek. “You?”

“Chris!” You laughed. “You’re going to pay for this.” You jumped off the bench and took a handful of icing sugar and threw it at his face. Your jaw dropped when you saw him dipped his hand into the Nutella jar, smirking. “Don’t you dare,” you told him and slowly backed away.

You tried to make a run for it but he caught your waist with one arm and smeared the Nutella on your face and into your hair. You screamed and laughed and squirmed in his arms. He laughed and held onto you tightly as he dragged you back to the table to add a touch of icing sugar on you.

“You’re looking absolutely delicious,” he chuckled and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m going to have a lot of trouble trying to get all this mucky stuff out of my hair,” you pouted.

“I will be more than happy to help,” he whispered into your ear with a cheeky, flirtatious tone.

You turned around in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling. You walked him back until he was half sat on the bench, you could tell from the smirk on his face that he was expecting something other than what you had planned. You leaned in inches away from his lips, it was a distraction so you could reach for the open jar of peanut butter and dip your hand into it. Just as he was about to kiss you, you scooped out a big dollop of peanut butter and smeared it into his hair. He made a face and groaned, pretending to be annoyed with you.

“I think you’re going to be way to busy with your own hair,” you giggled, biting your lower lip.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled. “Let’s call it a truce and eat ‘cause as fun as this is, I’m starving.”

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling.

You and Chris continued eating breakfast with maple syrup, peanut butter, Nutella, flour, and icing sugar, on your clothes, in your hair and all over your faces. As a materialistic actress, you would usually mind being covered in anything other than Chanel but it was different with Chris, you could be covered in mud and be comfortably okay.

“I’m going to go have a shower,” you said and hopped off the island bench top. He nodded and followed behind you as you headed for the stairs. You chuckled and turned around, stopping him with my hand. “Alone, Captain.”

“Aw…” he pouted.

“But you can go have a shower with the kitchen,” you chuckled. “It is dirtier than I am and I’m sure it’ll appreciate the help in cleaning it up. So…Chop chop,” you clapped your hands in his face and he chuckled.

“Are you really going to make me clean up alone?”

“Well…You did start the food fight,” I winced. “It’s only fair that the one who started it, ends it.”

“I don’t want to clean up by myself…” He whined and you pouted, giving him your best puppy dog eyes; his weakness. “Fine, I’ll clean up.” He grumbled and you smiled. “You go have your shower. Time limit of half an hour, please. I too would like to get all this muck off me.”

“Thank you, baby,” you smiled and pecked him on the lips before skipping out of the kitchen.


ISFJ - Let me be your doormat.
INFJ - I invented Jesus in my image.
ISTJ - Ofcourse I’d love to die for my country!
INTJ - I know everything about life, but I don’t have one.
INTP - I take social awkwardness to a whole new level.
ISTP - Killing people for money is a job I’d seriously consider, as a dream job you know.
ISFP - Yes, I am saying that this pile of bicycle tires and seats is art!
INFP - I was born depressed.
ESFJ - Buying stuff I don’t need and making babies makes me happy.
ENFJ - I am the nicest, most moral and kind person in the world and you should follow me and act like me.
ESTJ - I love getting up early and working my ass off every day so I can brag about my achievements and rub them in everyone’s face.
ESTP - Yo, chill man, have a beer.
ENTJ - God doesn’t exist so I’m a good enough replacement.
ENTP - Last night I solved the Riemann hypothesis while on LSD but I ripped my papers into shreds because I was so fucking high.
ESFP - Hey, look at me everyone, I can drink through my nose!
ENFP - I can persuade a professor to give me a chance to take a test after arriving 90 minutes late for it. 

I’m Gonna Need Your Loving

Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge)

Prompt: Whole Lotta Love – Led Zeppelin

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You’re alone at the bunker one night, so you decide to have some fun until an unexpected guest decides to show up.

Word Count: 1841

Warning: fluffy fluff, implied smut, sickness (nothing graphic), very little angst if you squint, Dean being sexy (you need to be prepared for that shit)

A/N: (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname, (Y/F/B) = Your favorite books, Italics = Thoughts, Bold = Lyrics, I do not own Supernatural or the song.

P.S. I had a lot of fun with this challenge. Thanks for letting me take part Kari. I had a lot of fun spending my birthday writing. Hope y’all enjoy <3

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

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Type of Work: Fanmix + ficlet
Title: Stiles’s Super Awesome Christmas Mix (for Derek Hale)
Audio Link:

Stiles was halfway through the last season of Parks and Recreation when someone yanked his earbud out of his ear.

He flailed and nearly tumbled out of his desk chair. “What the f—Derek?

Derek stood two feet away from him, the bedroom window wide open as he had apparently reverted to his creeper tendencies since Stiles had been at college.

Then Stiles saw the CD Derek gripped. Oh. Shit.

He tried for nonchalant. “So, uh, hey? How’re you doing? Good to see you again.”

Derek held up the CD. “You made this for me.”

Stiles scratched the back of his head. “Yes. I did.”

“You made me a mixtape.”

“Well, technically, it’s a mix CD, and that’s mostly because—” At the look on Derek’s face, Stiles cut himself off and cleared his throat. “Okay, yes. I made you a mixtape.”

Derek stared at the CD, his jaw working. “‘O Holy Night’ was my mother’s favorite song.”

Stiles remembered. It had been his mother’s favorite, too, a fact they had commiserated about during the holidays last year. “Yeah.”

“'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ was Laura’s favorite. And this one…my dad loved the Nutcracker.”

Stiles remembered that, too. He remembered everything Derek had told him, and it suddenly occurred to him that even without the last song on the CD, Derek would’ve guessed his intentions. Derek would’ve known just from “O Holy Night.”

He cleared his throat and really hoped Derek wasn’t listening to his heart ricocheting out of his chest. “Yeah. Um, most of them are just songs I thought you would get a kick out of, or would like, but…”

“But some you put on here for my family.” Derek was still clutching the CD like he was afraid it would disappear if he didn’t keep a death grip on it.

Stiles sighed. “Yeah.”

“And the last one…”

Stiles turned back to his computer, hoisting his shoulders like a wall. He could handle a lot of things, but he couldn’t handle looking at Derek if this was a rejection. This had been a stupid idea. Stiles should’ve kept quiet, instead of pouring himself into a playlist like this.

Derek grabbed his arm and hauled him out of his desk chair. “Stiles.”

There was something in his voice that made Stiles actually look at him again. Derek’s eyes were wide open, vulnerable in a way Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen.

“All I want for Christmas is you, too,” Derek said.

Stiles’s breath caught in his chest. Oh. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Derek repeated, a stupid smile on his face.

“I’d kind of like to kiss you,” Stiles blurted out. “If that's—”

Derek kissed him then, rendering the rest of the sentence moot.

Never mind. The playlist had clearly been the best idea ever.

I saw Miyavi last night in Brighton/Boston after waiting for thirteen years. I’ll never be over it, he was perfect and melted my face off, I fucking love that man.

But can I just talk about Kiha & The Faces for a minute? Because they were SO GOOD. It’s not even music I would listen to on my own, but I enjoyed them IMMENSELY. I had never heard of them before, and didn’t know they were Korean. So, I was so happy when he greeted us in Korean. Kiha is charming AF, really funny and talented. The rest of the band was awesome, too. A couple times I shouted at him in Korean, made the crowd laugh (and some probably cringed, let’s be honest) BUT HE RESPONDED BOTH TIMES and I couldn’t stop giggling. I’m excited that they got the opportunity to go on their first North American Tour and I was able to witness it. I’m excited for them to come back.

And I did a little research and found out he’s IU’s ex-boyfriend. I don’t follow IU, I’ve just seen her in Scarlet Heart. I can see why she dated him, he’s very attractive, imo. Fans complained about his looks?? How shallow can you be? Anyway, I’m a fan, now~ 

Friends (Part 8)

Chris Motionless x reader

Warning: Language, suggestive themes

 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10, Part 11)

Chris sighs, his hands over his face as he lay on his back, beating himself up.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He shouldn’t have lost his cool, lost control.

That had…. well, been amazing, but still.

He lifts his hands slightly as he turns to glance at you where you slept, curled on your side with your back to him, the sheet barely gracing your waist, showing him all the bruises he’d left on you.

He felt like such a jackass.

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FMLS Week 1, Challenge 3 - Fit chart

My fit chart is a little different, as it’s actually the habit tracker page in my bullet journal. 

Bullets indicate habits specifically for FMLS90. Black squares indicate an incomplete.

So, let’s break it down:

1. Wake up at 0800 - for a while there, I was getting up around 1000 which is way too late for me because I was getting nothing done during the day.

2. Make bed - making the bed makes my head space infinitely better. I never used to do it, but it always makes me feel a little more productive and adult-like when I do. :p

3. Wash face 2x daily - I usually wash my face once a day, in the shower, but I’d like to make a habit of washing at night as well, just to get the day’s grit and grime off my face.

4. Brush teeth 2x daily - I’m usually pretty good about this, but I sometimes fall asleep before brushing at night and I’d really like to stop that before it becomes an actual habit.

5. Floss after each meal - because, let’s be honest, the last time any of us flossed was probably when the dentist did it.

6. Take meds/vitamin - I forget to do this more often than I would like.

7. 22 Minute Hard Corps - this is the workout program I’ve started and will be doing for the next 60 days. I’ve never completed a workout program before, so this is a goal.

8. Walk 1 mile or more - I’ve stopped measuring in steps because when I was aiming for 10k steps a day, my feet would hurt for days. I’m just not quite there yet and that’s ok. So, instead, I’m tracking by distance, however short it may be. 2 miles equals nearly 6k steps for me, and the husband and I usually walk 2 miles or more, so I’m almost there at least. :)

9. Drink 100+ oz water - I forget to drink water a lot of the time and I’m trying to change that.

10. No junk food - Junk food, to me, is anything over-processed and/or generally unhealthy, to include eating out instead of cooking at home. I allow myself no more than 1 day a week of this.

11. Track diet/exercise - I am just way more successful when I track. Seeing exactly what I’m eating and doing helps me stay on track.

12. Clean 1 room daily - again, this just helps my head space. I feel way more positive when my house is clean. My husband is a slob, so I figure if I clean 1 room every day, I’ll manage to keep it all clean without overwhelming myself.

13. Read 1 hr or more - I love to read, but I don’t always make time for it. In fact, up until last year, I never read despite really enjoying it. Last year, I resolved to read more, and I did - 120 books, to be exact! This year, I knew I would have even less time to read, so I didn’t set my sights as high. Having this in my bullet journal ensures that I make an effort to read a little bit every day.

14. Study 1 hr or more - come on, now, studying is the worst. There are 23968794286 things I’d rather be doing than studying. So, into the habit tracker it goes.

15. Snail mail - I have been behind on my snail mail for months now. I got overwhelmed with my studies, and dog sitting, and the letters just went on the back burner. I’m still trying to catch up, but I sometimes go days without writing a single letter, and that’s not helping me at all. Especially when I’m constantly getting mail and replies from letters I’ve already sent. To consider this a complete, I must write 1 letter or more.

16. FMLS90 post - this is in my habit tracker to keep me on track for the whole 90 days. I’d like to be able to say that I completed the task for every single day.

17. Bed by 2200 - this is 10 pm, for those who are unfamiliar with 24-hr time. I never know how long it’s going to take me to fall asleep, so I go to bed at 2200, read til 2300, and then put everything away and really make an effort to sleep. This allows me the recommended 8-9 hours of sleep.

18. No soda - I have gone more than a year without soda in the past. After we moved to NY, I fell off that wagon. This is me getting back into the habit of not having it anymore.

19. Stretch/yoga - my body feels a lot less sore when I make an effort to include this somewhere in my day. Even still, I don’t always remember to do it, so it now has a place in my habit tracker.

20. Check blood pressure - my doctor says my blood pressure is good, but this is after it was high for a really long time. While I no longer have to monitor it every single day, I still check it 3-4 times a week.

21. Check blood sugar - I’m diabetic. Again, my doctor says my numbers have improved greatly, but she would still like me to check every other day.

22. No phone after 2230 - this ensures that I fall asleep by the time I have set for myself, instead of staying up on my phone until the wee hours of the morning. :p

23. Moisturize - I always forget to lotion up after my shower, and being diabetic, I have to take extra care with my skin. Moisturizing is very important, so I’m hoping this will help me stay on top of it.

And this is all for now, though I may add more things later as I realize I need to work on them. :)

@rachel-reports-life, @kc-drops-weight, @boo-badger, @shes-turnin-blue, @williamson531, @minus-forty-five

Zayn Imagine - You lose your wedding ring

Where the fuck did it go? I swear I put it right here. I yell inside of my head as I tear down the house in search of my wedding ring.
Zayn and I only just got married two months ago and I already lost my ring!
I move my search to the living room and start making a mess again.
Under the sofa?
Under the sofa cushions?
Next to the TV?
In the drawers beneath the TV?
It’s like my ring grew legs and ran away!
Zayn and I went to a party last night and I remember taking the ring off last night when we were home, I just don’t remember in which room I was or where I put it.
“Honey! I’m home!” Zayn says as he enters the door.
“Hey, babe! How was your day?” I ask him, keeping both my hands inside the pockets of the hoodie I am wearing.
“Great. We had an interview with Radio 1 and they kept asking me questions about what it’s like to be married.” He says, sliding his hand from my left shoulder all the down to my hand which is still in my pocket.
“And? What did you say?” I ask, desperately trying to distract him so he won’t notice that my ring is gone.
“I told them that it’s great, especially if you have a wife as wonderful as mine.” He says, taking my hands in his.
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” he asks, lifting my hand to his face so he can inspect my naked finger.
“I- uh- I just took a shower and I forgot to put it on.” I lie, hoping he’ll believe it.
“oh. Well go put it on then. We can’t have people thinking you’re available now, can we?” he says and I shake my head.
“I’m too lazy now. Let’s just watch a movie?” I ask, desperately trying to make him forget about my ring.
“I’ll go get it for you, then we can watch a movie.” He says but I tighten my arms around his waist.
“No. let’s just cuddle now. I’ll wear it again tomorrow.” I say and he shakes his head.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you lost you’re wedding ring.” He says with a smirk that I just want to slap right off of his face.
“Fine. I lost it. I remember taking it off last night, I just can’t remember where I put it and I’ve looked everywhere but I can’t find it.” I tell him and he just continues smiling.
“Why are you smiling? I just told you I lost my ring! You’re supposed to be mad at me and ask for a divorce or something!” I exaggerate and he let’s out a laugh.
“I don’t plan on divorcing you, love. I’m smiling because I know exactly where your ring is.” He says and my face lights up.
“Oh thank goodness! Where is it? I was so worried.” I say and he pulls my ring out of his pocket.
“You had it?” I ask, slapping his arm.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had it! I tore this entire house apart today and the entire time it was in your pocket!?” I say and he can’t stop laughing.
“I found it this morning. When I opened the fridge to get milk for coffee, I noticed your ring in the egg carton, so I put it in my pocket. I was wondering how long you’d take to tell me you couldn’t find it.” He says, still smiling.
I playfully hit his shoulder.
“I hate you, Zayn.” I mumble, pressing my face into his shoulder.
“Hate me all you want, at least I haven’t lost my wedding ring.” He says and I groan.
I will never hear the end of this.

*** ***

Niall next!! x

psyraah  asked:

Victuuri spy AU (SPY HUSBANDS!!!!). Badass rescues? Late to social outing because they were doing secret spy stuff? \ö/ don't have to of course, but would be happy to chat if you need inspiration/someone to bounce ideas off for anything!!

Didn’t really get into any missions, but i hope u like this anyway!!!! ♥♥

[AO3 Link]

They fall together, somehow.

From a mission that had sent them against each other, to a mission that had them working together, to a mission that led from this to that and ended up with an us, a we, a them. Together.

Yuuri still hasn’t fully grasped it, how he managed to steal Viktor’s heart without wearing the suave persona he’d called Eros when he first adopted it, but it’s real. Somehow, some way, he’d done something, said something, that led to this:


“It’s too early,” Yuuri groans as his face is peppered with kisses, the magic of Viktor’s affectionate touches losing its touch after the first five times he woke up to it. It’s still sweet, sure, and it definitely still gives him a bit of a tingling feeling in his chest, but you can only get so much of this affection and not get used to it at some point in your life.

“We still have our training, Yuuri, or did you forget?” Viktor asks, tone teasing as he noses at the juncture of Yuuri’s neck and shoulder. Yuuri makes a small, happy sound at the affection- there’s just something about Viktor always wanting to be so close that gets to him in a good way- but manages to push at Viktor’s face anyway, because it is too early. “солнышко!” Viktor exclaims, playing at hurt. “What happened to the Yuuri of last night who swept me off my feet?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes behind closed eyelids as he vaguely recalls their night before. He was Eros, then; he’d had his hair swept partly to one side, imitating that look he’d always imagine when thinking of butlers, and he had posed as a wandering waiter for a party celebrating a new invention of questionable origin. Viktor had been doing his own half of the work then, less mingling with the crowd and more investigating his way around the backrooms of the palace, but he eventually got back to the dance floor and let Yuuri (having already changed back into a suit more proper for dancing) sweep him away so they could sneak out unnoticed.

“He’s on off-hours now, come back when there’s a mission that needs him,” Yuuri grumbles, burrowing further into the warmth and softness of their shared bed.

“But I made you breakfast,” Viktor whines, and Yuuri can’t help a snort of laughter, because Viktor is ridiculous. He can’t believe this is the same man he’d thought to be so cold and distant the first time he met him, but he is. What had been a stiff first impression- and that was inevitable, given that Yuuri almost broke his neck in self-defense- became this.



Sometimes, Yuuri just really starts to wonder how his life has led from that to all of this.

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samyazaz  asked:

E/R - Two Night Stand AU

(For those of you who don’t know, there is an upcoming romcom that just CRIES OUT for all the fandom AUs.)

Enjolras is completely and without question certain that this is not how one-night stands are supposed to work.

He can’t control the weather, of course, but at this point he would be willing to go out and scoop the snow out from in front of the door with his bare hands if he thought it would have the slightest effect, if only because he has no idea what to say. Grantaire is a stranger, they had sex, and it was supposed to be a way to move on, quickly done and quickly forgotten, but now they’re stuck.

“We’re going to have to talk sometime,” says Grantaire from the kitchen table, where the remains of breakfast remain on their plates. “Unless you’d like to take a vow of silence until the storm blows over, but I warn you, I’m not very good at silence.”

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What’s the Opposite of Fake Dating?

So, I got this idea stuck in my head because I love fake dating stories. I’m always so invested like omgggg are these idiots going to get together or whaaaat (spoiler alert: they always do). But I wanted to try it backwards. So I challenged myself to write a story where they are actually together but have to fake that they’re not (I’d seen a few prompts like that floating around, but came up with my own scenario).

Summary: Drunk and married in Vegas is another plot I love, so I added that one in here, too! Basically, Emma & Killian get married but then worry their families won’t approve, so they pretend to their families that they just met. Hope you like it?

Rating: T (swearing, sexual references)

Word Count: 4.8K

Emma Swan did not like clichés.

So imagine her disgust when she woke up Sunday morning to realize she’d become one. She’d gone to Vegas for a perfectly respectable purpose – a work conference – and yet she’d ended up getting fantastically drunk, meeting a gorgeous wonderful amazing man, having gloriously satisfying sex with him through more than half the night, and then – idiot she was – marrying the bastard at 3 am at a drive-through chapel on the Las Vegas strip. Yeah, she went to Nevada to hone her managerial skills and she ended up becoming a fucking trope.

This was crazy, crazy, crazy. She did not let people in. She was not a romantic – she’d find a guy at a bar, head to a bathroom or a bedroom or a fucking broom closet, take what she needed, give an orgasm or two in return, and then bolt. She never, ever spent the night. No, the last man she spent the night with had been hired to do so to keep track of her (psychotic family members were the worst). And the only other man she’d spent the night with had been in the back of a VW Bug and he’d left her to take the fall for his crime the next morning, soooo.

Emma was a runner, and with good reason.

Yet here she lay, still in bed with the man she’d “gone home with” (married) the night before, the sun rising through the thousand windows of one of many honeymoon suites in the tropical-themed resort in the middle of the goddamn desert. She lay here, cuddled up to the man like a needy teenager – with absolutely zero desire to run far away. No, she wanted to stay. She craved this man’s presence like oxygen – which really is more of a need than a craving, but that’s not the point, OK? The point is she’s lying in a honeymoon suite, a silver band firmly wrapped around her left hand ring finger signifying her recent wedding to a fucking stranger and instead of being disappointed in herself or horrified or mentally calculating how much money and time it would take to get this shit annulled, like now, she was thinking how she should probably order them some breakfast and start the coffee before he wakes up.

Emma Swan has found herself married to a stranger in Vegas, has fallen into the plot of a goddamn sitcom, and even worse: she’s OK with it.

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