behind the blue door

Safe Places.

Based on an ask I received!
I apologize, the story had to be edited so I rewrote the whole thing here!

Original idea by: @lightderin

Lance looked around at the accusing glares of his teammates, all different intensities. He smiled nervously, “Oops.”

They had been mapping out locations in the observatory of safe planets to land, or easy places to wormhole, in the case of an attack that needed quick escape.

The team had been at it for hours, and had over 120 spots pinpointed over multiple galaxies.

Lance, who had found the entire ordeal quite boring, had strolled away to check out the little holograms floating around.

He couldn’t help that it was hard for him to pay attention, ADHD did that to a person. Focusing just wasn’t his gig.

The blue paladin had started across the other side of the room, hands in his pockets and he just looked.

Until he thought he found Earth.

He should know what it looked like, he stared at its little hologram nearly every night.

Lance missed home.
He missed the people back there.

Without much thought, Lance reached forward to zoom in, a happy little smile on his lips.

Home.

Look at it, just right there—

“Aw, what the heck?!” A chorus of shouts came from behind and Lance jumped.

He turned to see the team staring at him, looking annoyed and tired. “Hm?”

Pidge motioned frantically to the hologram around them, “Lance, we lost our spot! We lost our points!”

Lance blinked, “…how?”

Keith groaned, “Idiot, because you were screwing around with the screen!”

Lance frowned, looking back at Earth, and saw how zoomed in it was and how the constellations and stars around him had changed too.

Oh, he didn’t think that one through.
Lance looked back at them and smiled nervously, “Oops?”

He was answered with grumbles, and a yawn from Hunk. They were tired and now were too frustrated to get significantly angry.

“Let’s go to bed, we can start again in the morning.” Shiro said, rubbing his forehead. “You too Lance.”

Lance rubbed his neck, looking at the ground as the team and the Altean duo walked past him.

He grunted when Keith bumped into him, “Watch where you’re going, Lance.” The red paladin spat.

Lance frowned.
Keith was the one who bumped into him!

“Oh yeah, mull—”
He was alone in the observatory.

He took a shaky breath, watching the doors close behind his friends, and sulked.

Great.
He had annoyed them all, again.

Why could he just keep his hands to himself? Look don’t touch, his mama had always said.

Lance sighed, arms coming up to pull up his hood and put it over his head. A safe place, where he could only see forward, and no one could see him.

Hoods were nice.
When you can only look back at your mistakes, they allow you to dream ahead and block out any side distractions.

It was a new world, your own world, and provided the blue paladin with a sense of security.

Safe.

He sat down, back in front of Earth, letting it float nearer to him and he watched it carefully.

The blue light illuminating the white space his head was tucked into, and it was just those two.

Lance and Earth.
She was such a pretty lady.

His sadness escaped through a sigh, and he allowed himself to be calm.

Tonight, he would fix it.
Lance would stay up all night and go through the map an replot every point.

And as morning came, the hood would come off, and Lance would feel a little better.

Everything would be okay.

It had to be, otherwise what would have been the point of staying up all night to do all of this for his team?

He skipped breakfast, as that time came the following morning. Not that he was incredibly hungry anyway.

“203…204, wait, no…” Lance put down another point, rubbing his eyes and swaying in his spot.

Lance had marked down every point they had previously plotted, and finding he hadn’t been able to sleep, continued on.

The blue paladin barely noticed as a door opened behind him, and the team entered.

“Wh— Lance? We thought you were still sleeping, you weren’t at breakfast.” Princess Allura said with a hint of surprise in her tone.

Lance chuckled, “Nah, thought I would finish up some of our plotting.”

Team Voltron and the Alteans were staring in awe at the color coordinated dots that glowed amongst the light blue holographic model.

“What is this?” Shiro asked.

Lance looked over, rubbing an eye.
“I felt horrible last night, messing up the work you guys did. So I stayed up and fixed it. I even took the time to color coordinate them by condition, size, and whether or not they are open at certain times.”

Each had their jaw dropped, staring at their blue paladin. He had done all of that?

“Did you sleep at all?” Hunk spoke up, brows furrowed as he stared at his friend.

The poor kid looked drained; skin paled, bags under his eyes, and red in the corners.

He was exhausted.

It took them a moment to process this, watching as Lance sat down and smiled at them. “I even found more. In at over two hundred charted locations giving the correct conditions.”

Keith said it. “Idiot.”

Lance blinked, visibly flinching at the sudden words, not what he had expected at all.

“What…?”

Pidge looked annoyed, although it was probably at the fact Lance had done something tech related better than her for once.

“You stayed up ALL NIGHT? On a map that wasn’t even that important?” She said, gaping.

Lance paused, “Not that…Wh… But you guys got so upset when I messed it up, an worked on it all day!”

Keith rolled his eyes, “Yeah, it needed done, but it wasn’t life or death. Look at you!”

Shiro, in a nicer tone, agreed. “He’s right, Lance. You didn’t have to do this, and it’s not healthy putting yourself through such stress.”

Hunk bit his lip, “I mean, you’re really tired right? What if, What o Zarkon attacked and you just fell asleep durin battle?”

“He would KILL you.” Allura confirmed. Coran nodded.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Lance looked around at his friends, not believing what he was hearing in the slightest.

How could they accuse him like this?
How could they be so rude?

Lance had done this for them, staying up all night to fix his mistake. He had wants to make them happy!

The blue paladin wanted to be apart of the team and help out for once, even if it was in a simple manner.

He hadn’t wanted to be reprimanded for a deed he believed was good.

Frustrated tears appeared, and Lance crossed his arms. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go to bed. Do what you want with that.”

He stood up, swayed, and nearly toppled over with exhaustion. Lance couldn’t stand the worried looks he was getting.

The hood came back up.
Things were supposed to have been okay.

Lance marched to his room, rubbing his nose with an aggravated sniff and glaring the tears away.

It wasn’t okay.
Why couldn’t it ever be okay?

Light

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Request: “could you please do 42 and 45 with jughead x reader? thanks !!” and
“Hi!!! I really love your blog! I was wondering if you could do a Jughead one with #45 and 50, please? ❤️”

Prompt: 
#42 “I hate you.” - “No, you don’t.”
#45 “I’m your lock screen?!” - “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
#50 “If I asked, you’d say no.” - “You don’t know that.”

Everything Tag List: @betty-coopers-number-one-stan@1amluke, @pissheadofficial, @teen-river-wolf, @itsjaynebird, @nooneshoney, @carouselof-progress, @apocalypticangell, @welc0met0thedarkside, @sparklingriverdale, @gryffndor, @jugheads-lawyer, @jugheadjns
Jughead x Reader Tag List: @keepcalmandflywithtoothless, @lostinpercyseyes, @captainsuperfangirl, @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@xbobaaa, @theselfishllama

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Feelings

Reader x Klaus Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

*requested

Imagine: You are Rebekah Mikaelson’s best friend and, ah, a mermaid. She brough you home in a gesture act. What she did not expect was that her brother, Klaus, would fall for you and, whilst doing so, he win your heart over.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, some violent descriptions (not that big of a deal), mentions of sex, fluff

Word Count: 4250 (i think i broke my record with this one)


Patiently waiting for Rebekah Mikaelson, who happened to be your best friend for quite some time now, at a bar, you thought of how much your life had changed in the past year. All because you were forced to abandon your mermaid nature after one reckless night you spend at a forbidden cave; sure, your mother had warned you what would happen if you went there during a full moon, but you always thought she was just being an overprotective mum. Ultimately, she was not, for the next morning you woke up entirely naked. Oh, and with freaking legs instead of your blueish tail as well.

A gentle chuckle left your lips when you remembered the stunned looks the humans gave you once you managed to get out of the cave. Nudity can get them incredibly nervous.

“I presume you’re waiting for my sister, love.” A masculine voice, soaked in a marvellous British accent, said. “May I keep you company?”

“Suit yourself, Niklaus.” Your reply was short, straight to the point. “But I warn you she’ll be mad if she finds you here.”

“I know how to deal with Rebekah.” He smirked, sitting on one of the chairs and facing you with those deep blue eyes. “You know that.”

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The Feeling of You

Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: sweet smut, my first Steve smut so forgive me. Doing this without a beta.

A/N: @yourtropegirl requested a Steve smut involving a cabin & the song “All of Me” from the show Nashville. 

“So close the door and throw away the key. Baby, give me all of you. And I will give you all of me. Just one look and I can barely breathe. I feel your golden eyes burning right through me.”


Steve followed you into the cabin, both of you were silent. He closed the door behind him and dropped the large blue duffle bag on the floor. You watched him lock the door and turned to you with a soft smile. He tucked his hands into his jean pockets, his body language was shy and unsure of itself. You slipped off your jacket and tossed it over the green couch. With a knowing simper, you walked toward the handsome man, who stood there in light jeans and white tee. His blue eyes were burning right through you and your heart was pounding away. It had been weeks in the making, the two of you were finally truly alone. You whisked Steve away from the Tower and the others, took him far from the city lights and to the countryside. Hidden deep within mother nature, the cabin you had spent your summers growing up in, because everyone deserved time off. Especially Captain America.

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anonymous asked:

prompt: future married sanvers run into maggie's parents while walking down the street

“I know you want to live close to work, but there’s no way you’re going to find a house with a yard in that neighborhood,” Maggie swung hers and Alex’s intertwined hands together.

Alex took a sip of her coffee and passed it to Maggie who took a sip as well. “I know, but…I just want something with some green space you know?”

“We could find an apartment across the street from a park.” Maggie offered. She finished off the coffee and tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash bin. “And there is always that open unit in Kara’s building. It’s two bedrooms so we can have that home office we’ll fight over.”

“Are you sure you want to live in Kara’s building?” Alex opened the door of the small diner, holding it for Maggie.

Maggie let go of her hand and walked in past her. “I’m sure. She’s over all the time anyway and she’s my sister-in-law now.” Maggie dropped a kiss on Alex’s cheek as she walked past. “Plus, I need a charades partner now that you have taken Winn as yours.”

“You’re good at a lot of things, babe,” Alex smiled, walking in after Maggie. “Charades is not one of them.”

“Sawyer, party of two,” the hostess spoke before they could even get to her.

“Wow you called ahead,” Alex put her hand on Maggie’s back. “You used her maiden name, but you still called ahead.”

“I didn’t call ahead,” Maggie looked to the metal chairs sitting against the window that served as the waiting area. Even as she did, her heart pounded in her ears. Getting up from the chairs were the two last people she every wanted to see, especially on her honeymoon.

“Maggie?”

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Claudia Phantomhive headcanons

I know this is late but here it is @midnight-in-town! :)


- As the Queen’s Watchdog, Claudia is composed, ice-cold, efficient, and deadly. Her associates know her as the fiercely clever, terrifically independent swordswoman with an even sharper wit. The Undertaker knows that behind closed doors, this blue rose is actually quite affable, with a sterling sense of humor that has just the right amount of cheek and saucy wit.

- Despite her strength and self-sufficiency, Claudia is delicately feminine and always insists on looking immaculately put together. (“Don’t you know? There is power in beauty. It may not have the sharp edge of the sword or the sudden death of a bullet but you must not forget—beauty has toppled empires and started entire wars. It has destroyed, cultivated, maimed, and ruined kings, princes, and sovereigns alike. Those who overlook beauty as a superfluous trifle are the same ones who have lost their battles to me.”)

- The very first time she met the Undertaker, she made him laugh using just one line.

- Eventually, the Undertaker became so intrigued by this elusively charming young woman he purposely interfered in one of her cases, just so he could have a chance to talk with her honestly and without precedence. Needless to say, Claudia was not pleased. Or:

“Ah, I’ll admit, perhaps my actions were a bit hasty—“

“My not-so-dear Undertaker, you let a rogue assassin escape. The same rogue assassin who attempted to murder the prince of Wales, poison the duke of Marlborough, and burn down an entire marquessate.”

“Why, you do have to admire his ambition, don’t you?”

[cue fight scene and Undertaker falling head over heels in love]

- Claudia’s favorite scent is that of fresh violets—the kind that grow wild in the secret wood just outside Lancashire—with the morning dew still clinging onto their indigo petals.

- Her mother died of septicemia following the birth of Claudia’s younger brother. The boy only lived for six months before he too passed away—this time from scarlet fever. 

- Claudia wears a blue butterfly pin in her hair. The pin is made of tungsten, an incredibly hard and rare earth metal. If she’s ever in a tight situation, the pin can be used as a dagger to slice and dice her enemies, giving her enough time to escape.

- Even though Claudia was a woman, she was allowed to keep her family’s surname because of her connections to the queen and her duties as watchdog.

- Her “official” husband was a wealthy businessman who was part of the gentry but not the aristocracy. They had a polite working relationship though it was mainly a marriage of convenience—Claudia needed to marry for the sake of respectability and her husband, while rich, desired a title and a place in the House of Lords.

- Claudia and the Undertaker like to tell jokes in German just to see how long they can stretch out a pun before it becomes ridiculous.

- Claudia once visited the Undertaker on a particularly rainy day and fell ill. She spent the night with him wrapped up in blankets, drinking tea from glass beakers, while the Undertaker entertained her by telling wildly random stories and selective gossip he heard from the prostitutes in the streets. That was also the night Undertaker got those signature braids in his hair: while the Undertaker was lying next to her she just picked up a few strands of his hair and began braiding. The Undertaker never took them out.

- One Christmas Claudia gave the Undertaker a Grecian funeral urn as a joke but he thought it was the best present he’d ever received and promptly began storing his cookies in there.

- During Claudia’s tenure as watchdog the Aristocrats of Evil used to meet at the Phantomhive country manse once a week to exchange information and play poker. Just a group of the most notorious men and women in the entire world, sitting around a velvet card table while Tanaka dealt the cards and they played outrageously complex games of poker and blackjack. The air would be thick with cigar smoke, women’s perfume, and the scent of decades old bourbon.

- Claudia liked to collect hand painted teacups from all around the globe. Hence why Phantomhive Manor is chock full of porcelain tea sets and why Ciel never uses the same teacup twice.

- It was Tanaka who taught Claudia the art of the sword and, as she improved, their sparring sessions would invariably leave the training room, with servants just nonchalantly moving out of the way as Tanaka and Claudia dueled across the hallway, down the stairwell, and into the dining room.

- Claudia read Norse mythology to Vincent and Francis when they were children. (The illustrations in the book were watercolors done by the Undertaker.)

- The Undertaker’s favorite thing about Claudia are her hands—soft, delicately boned with slim, agile fingers and sharp, femme fatale nails. She wore no jewelry save for a simple diamond band on her ring finger. She, in turn, loved combing her fingers through the Undertaker’s hair.

- Claudia almost signed a marriage contract between Francis and Aleistor Chamber before meeting the viscount’s only son and heir and deciding that her daughter might actually kill the overly loquacious and flamboyant boy if she ever had to talk to him, never mind living with him.  

- Claudia once had to go undercover as a carriage salesman named Ted.

- Claudia and the Undertaker used to ice skate on the Thames when it froze over during the winter. This would always have to be at night when no one was there and the Undertaker would perform a series of ridiculous tricks while Claudia pelted him with snowballs.

- She is an avid amateur art historian with a special interest in landscapes and aquatic paintings.

- The Undertaker oversaw Claudia’s funeral. Her body is preserved in a marble mausoleum located underground, beneath the Phantomhive family plot. The scent of dried violets and orange blossoms permeate the dark, still air as the Undertaker makes it a priority to replace all the flowers in the mausoleum once every month.

Good To Be Back

McHanzo Week Day 1: Morning/Night

Summary: McCree returns from a long, difficult mission in the dead of night.

(TW for vague mentions of blood and violence, mental illness)

AO3

Hanzo jerked awake into pitch blackness.

Something woke him, and he felt fear bubble in his chest. He scrambled to sit upright, silently hissing at the stiffness in his neck and his back. What the hell—he’d fallen asleep on a couch?

Keep reading

Unknown King - part III

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Great Gatsby AU

Summary: After moving to New York, aspiring author Y/N gets more than what she bargained for when she befriends her mysterious neighbor. In a blur of riches and beauty, she finds herself falling for the man who remains unknown.

A/N: It’s been a week since I posted an update on UK. This story may seem boring right now, but trust me it will get better. If you want to be tagged please tell me. :)

Word count: 1.8k

Part I Part II

Masterlist

The next day you woke up in a startle when you realized it was 10:45. James said he’d pick you up around noon. You didn’t want to consider it to be a date, but the only friend you had was Emma and you really needed to make friends. He did say it was a neighborly gesture. It’s just lunch after all.

After a quick shower, waltzed back into your room to find something to wear. The steam from the bathroom had seeped from the open windows, relinquishing the room from the hot vapor. You slipped on a skirt and a black long sleeved shirt, finishing it all off with a pair of black boots. You tied your Y/H/C hair up into a high ponytail. By the time you were done, the clock had struck noon.

For the next ten minutes, you paced back and forth in your small living room. You constantly checked the clock, growing more anxious when the feeling of dread began to creep onto you. You came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to pick you up. You were about to release your hair from the ponytail when the doorbell rang. After a considerate amount of time, you went to answer it.

James stood behind the door, looking apologetic. He wore a dark blue dress shirt that stretched tightly across his broad chest. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his black pants. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing his forearms. His hair now framed his face.

“I am so sorry for being so late,” he began. “I got a business call and I’m afraid it ran on a bit longer than expected.”

You smiled, “No worries. Shall we?”

He nodded and waited for you close your door before walking beside you towards his car. It was a beautiful gray Ferrari. You’ve only ever seen cars like those in movies and magazines. You tried to hide your amazement, but utterly failed and James laughed at your reaction. He opened the door for you and you gladly stepped inside. The interior was as beautiful as the outside.

“Where to?” You asked James once he got in the car.

“There’s this amazing rooftop restaurant with a view of the city,” He explained. “Very exclusive as well, hard to get in.”

“So how are we getting in?” You asked.

“The owners owe me a favor,” He smiled and sped off down the street.

The drive into the city was absolutely mesmerizing. Your neck was craned as you looked up, trying to see the top of the skyscrapers. Your head was constantly turning. It was all so overwhelming, so much to see but so little time. James was speeding through the streets. Heads turned in your direction when they heard the engine’s roar. You sunk low into your seat from the unwanted attention.

“When I first moved here I was just the same,” James spoke up. “So enthralled by the city for the first time. I can take you to all the nice places of the city.” He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. “How’s work anyhow? Any interesting stories?”

You snorted, “Yeah! I wrote a story about a kid with a mole shaped like Jesus.” You frowned. “I’m gonna need a hell of a story for Mr. Cole to take me seriously.”

“It’ll get better,” James added.


“Mr. Barnes!” The woman behind the desk smiled. She wore a traditional kimono and bowed her head at us. “Glad to have you back!”

James bowed respectfully and took the woman’s hands in his, “hello, Aki.”

“Who is this beautiful young woman?” She smiled brightly at you.

James extended a hand towards you, “This is Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled and bowed. He turned to Aki again, “Table for two, please.”

She smiled before grabbing two menus, leading you to the tables. The walls were glass, giving a 360-degree view of the skyline. Soft music played through the speakers, providing some sort of sound the room. James pulled the seat back for you, like a gentleman. You thanked him and picked up your menu. Your eyes scanned all the food you did not recognize, underneath the English text, was a foreign language you also did not recognize.

“Is this Korean?” You asked.

“Japanese,” James corrected. “Aki’s family owns this restaurant. All Japanese food with a Japanese staff. Aki is very proud of her ethnicity.”

You took this time to scan the room. There was a grand fountain. The water fell quietly along the wall before rolling into the pool. It extended towards the tables, the water offering a soft serenity of silence. Lotus flowers floated on the water, along with koi fish. Your lips parted in amazement when your eyes fell onto the cherry blossom tree. The pink flowers bloomed and radiated as the sunlight touched them through the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” James spoke up.

You nodded, “I wouldn’t even be able to step inside this place if it weren’t for you. It’s amazing.”

Before James could say anything, a waiter approached us. You ordered the drinks and left before returning with them. With James’ help, you were able to order a dish that he recommended to be the best thing on the menu.

“James,” You began.

“Call me Bucky,” He said.

You smiled, “Bucky, thank you for taking me out for lunch. I really appreciate your kindness. You’re probably one of the most hospitable soul I’ve met since I arrived.”

“It is my pleasure,” he took a sip from his drink.

“So why so many parties?” You asked.

He shrugged, “Big house, I like to keep it full of people, even if it for a couple of hours. I also don’t have much time to enjoy the place, so why not let others do so?”

You nodded, “Sounds expensive. Where do you work?”

Bucky cleared his throat, “I believe that is my personal information, Y/N.”

Your lips pulled together in an ‘O’. “My coworkers just come up with the most ridiculous stories about you, which is why I was curious.”

He sat up, “Stories?”

“One coworker said that you murdered your family in order to get the money. Another said you won the lottery and another thinks you’re in a mafia.” You chuckled.

Bucky laughed, “That’s new.” He paused. “God, don’t tell me you believe them.”

You snorted, “Of course not. From what I’ve seen you’re very nice.”

You and Bucky spoke while you waited for the food. When it finally came, you talked some more in an infinite conversation. He asked you where you came from and why you moved. You approached him with subtle questions. He wasn’t an open book, but he was an interesting character and you wanted to learn more.

“I feel like I’ve been talking about myself for too long,” You chuckled.

“I don’t mind,” Bucky said. “I like meeting new people.”

After lunch, Bucky drove you around the city. Showing you the places that you didn’t get to see. It was fascinating. The buildings were so tall, you weren’t used to it. Bucky pointed out businesses that belonged to his associates. He even took you outside of the city.

By the time you arrived back home it was already 4 P.M. Bucky followed you to your door. You turned to him and smiled. “I had a great time Bucky. Thank you again for the dinner. It was fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Y/N. We’ll do this again,” He promised. And then with a swift goodbye, he left you on your porch before getting into his car to take the short drive to his palace next door.

Once in your home, you left your hair to fall freely. Your scalp grew tired from the weight of your hair. A bath sounded great. You went to the bathroom and began to fill the tub. A knock on the door made you raise an eyebrow. Tenaciously, you walked towards the front door before opening it. There was no one at the door but a package wrapped in material as soft as silk. You picked it up and opened it. You gasped when you saw that it was a beautiful pastel blue gown. You pulled it out of the box. Its skirt fell to the floor. The design was simple yet so beautiful. You grabbed the note that sat on the bottom.

I still feel terrible about what happened to your dress. I hope you like it, I had some help picking it out.

-Bucky

You smiled at the letter, but it immediately faltered. How much did this gown cost? Probably a fortune. You frowned, although it was such a gorgeous dress, you knew you had to give it back. You felt selfish for even accepting it. After changing out of your clothes into something more comfortable, you shut off the water and packed up the dress once again.

The three knocks on the door sent a short sting of pain through your bones. You stood up straight, waiting for someone to open the door. It wasn’t long until you were met with a different butler. He showed no signs of friendliness. Instead, he arched his eyebrow at you.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked.

“Yes, is Buc-I mean Mister Barnes around?” You asked. “I need to speak to him. I live right next door.”

The butler hummed before opened the door completely. He motioned for you to come inside, you did so. The house is as breathtaking as the first time you stepped through it. The butler closed the door and left the room, telling you that Bucky would be down on a bit.

You were examining a painting that hung on the wall when Bucky came down the stairs. He was dressed in sweats and a plain black shirt. He smiled at you, “Did you like the dress?”

“About that,” You handed over the box. “I can’t take this Bucky.”

“Why not?” He asked, a look of worry crossing his face.

“It’s too much,” You admitted. “I’m afraid I’m not worth it. It is a beautiful dress, but I just can’t accept it.”

Bucky raised his hands as if he was about to cup your cheeks, but quickly let them fall.

“I just don’t want it to seem like I’m gonna take advantage of you,” You said.

Bucky put his hands together as if he was doing a prayer. “you’re such a pure soul, Y/N.” Before you said anything else, he spoke up. “Keep the dress, Y/N. You’d break my heart if you wanted me to take it back. Do you really want to do that?”

“No,” You admitted.

“Then it’s settled!” Bucky exclaimed. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, I have a bath that I need to indulge in,” You said. “Thanks, Bucky. I really appreciate it.” You smiled.

He nodded, “Of course Y/N”

He walked you back to your cottage. Where you said your final goodbyes before closing the door. You blew air out of your lips and set the box on your bed. It was finally time to wash the day away in your much-needed bubble bath. You mustn’t get attached to Bucky, you told yourself. You were friends.

Just friends.

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*Permanent tag list, if you want to be added or taken off please tell me. Also if you want to be added to the taglist of this story, also tell me

Comfort || Jughead Jones

Prompt from anon: Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Jughead x reader based on some of the latest episode? Like whenever Cheryl is hitting Jughead the reader pulls him away from her and instead of Weatherbee coming in, the reader takes Jughead away and comforts him about his dad and stuff? MUCH ANGST AND MUCH FLUFF PLEASE

A/N: Hope you like it!

—————

“Y/N, have you heard anything from Jughead today?” Veronica asked as you took a seat next to her in the cafeteria.

You sighed.

“No,” you said. “I’ll go over to Archie’s later and talk to him though.”

Veronica and the rest of the group nodded.

“It’s better that he didn’t come in today anyway.” Archie said as he took a bite of his apple.

“I agree,” Betty said. “Coming here would just be—oh my God.”


At her tone, you and Veronica turned around, eyes widening when you saw Jughead walk into the cafeteria, making his way over to Cheryl’s table.

“What is he doing?” you hissed.

Jughead stopped in front of Cheryl’s table, making the grieving ginger look up at him.

The entire cafeteria became silent.

“I’m sorry, Cheryl.” he said truthfully.

Everyone held their breath to see what would happen next.

Cheryl slowly got up, making her way over to Jughead so they were inches apart. Then she slapped him. Hard. You and the rest of the gang flinched before the Blossom girl began to pound her fists on Jughead’s chest. He didn’t even move, he just stood there and took it. You and Archie sprang up, Archie holding Cheryl back from hitting his best friend, you dragging your boyfriend out of the cafeteria before Weatherbee got to him.

When the two of you entered the hallway, Jughead began to walk away from you, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Jughead!” you called.

“Leave me alone, Y/N.” he snapped as he entered the Blue & Gold office, the door slamming behind him, leaving you all alone in the hallway.

You were hurt at his words but you knew better than to walk away. Jughead didn’t snap at you because he was angry at you. He snapped because he was feeling hurt.

You took a deep breath and followed Jughead into the Blue & Gold’s office.

At first you didn’t see him anywhere as the room was pitch black. Then you heard sniffling coming from the back of the room. You turned the lights on and your heart broke when you saw your boyfriend. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, and he was crying softly into his jeans.

“Juggie…” you trailed off as you rushed over to him, kneeling next to him.

You wrapped your arms around him and he instantly melted into your touch. He cried into your shirt and you gently moved your palm up and down his back.

“Shh…” you soothed. “Juggie, it’s okay.”

“Nothing’s okay,” he sobbed out. “My dad’s a murderer.”

You had never heard him sound so broken before. And you certainly had never seen him like this before.

“It’s going to be alright,” you reassured. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me, okay? You’ve always got me.”

Jughead didn’t answer, he just continued crying. You were silent after that, just settling for rubbing your palm up and down his back slowly.

You would’ve stayed there forever, just to make Jughead was alright. He was your world.

And you were his. And the only good thing he had left.

—————

A/N: This was kinda short but I think it turned out really well! Hope you enjoyed! Please send feedback!

Taglist

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The Middle of the Night

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: StilesxReader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Kinda long, a little rushed at the end 

Prompt Summary: Reader and Sitles are in a relationship. When Stiles starts acting weird, reader decides to take it into their own hands.

Credit to GIF owner

You and Stiles had been dating for a couple months now. And needless to say, it was the best few months of your life. Full of compassion, funny jokes and numerous Star Wars marathons. For the most part, you two were completely oblivious to the outside world and were only infatuated with each other. However, the past two nights, Stiles had been acting peculiar. He was fidgety and anxious, and hardly listened to what you said to him. It was as if he was living on his own planet; his own Death Star. 

On top of his abnormal acting, Stiles had been disappearing during the night. You had only noticed when around 1 A.M you woke to an empty bed and drawers left open with shirts spilling out. You worried about Stiles, he usually told you exactly where he was going and when he’d be back. So tonight, you devised a plan.  

You and Stiles sat in silence as drove home from school in his old blue jeep. His thumbs twiddled with the steering wheel, only the soft hum of pop songs from the radio could be heard between the two of you. 

“Stiles..” you murmur, keeping your eyes pinned to the road. He doesn’t reply, in fact he doesn’t even acknowledge your voice. “Stiles!” you say more sternly. Stiles merely jumps out of his skin, the jeep swerving in the middle of the road. “What?” Stiles asks. His face was pale. You furrow your eyebrows, “Stiles, are you okay?” you ask. Stiles shoots a glance towards you, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine”. You flopped against the back seat, completely unconvinced. 

11 P.M soon rolled around. You and Stiles had spent the day studying for a chem test atop his bed. For the most part, he remained quiet and focused, yet you could still spot multiple times where his mind wandered off. You both decided to call it a night, snuggling underneath the covers of his bed. With his arms latched around you, you could feel the tenseness of his muscles beneath his shirt, his uneasy breathing on the back of your neck. Your worry for him only peaked.

At 1 A.M, you felt him get out of bed. He opened the drawers, threw on a sweat shirt and strode out of the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind him. Once you heard the blue jeep engine roar in the driveway, you hopped out of bed, through something on and grabbed the keys to your own car. You ran downstairs, got into your car and waited till Stiles was a safe distance away, then you started up your car and drove after him.

You had been driving for about half an hour when Stiles suddenly made a sharp turn down an old rugged path leading into the forest of Beacon Hills.        “What are you up to Stiles?” you asked yourself, parking your car on the side of the road. You decided that continuing this journey on foot would be the safest choice.

The night air was bitter, sending goosebumps along your spine. Your tucked your arms close to your chest, desperate to keep whatever warmth you had close to your body. The moon hung alone in the sky with faintly shining stars accompanying its side. You kept your eyes pinned to the dimly lit tail lights of Stiles’ jeep. As you walked on, dead leaves crunching beneath the soles of your shoes, you noticed a looming shadowy figure come up in the distance. Your breath hitched, it was the old Hale house. 

Stiles jeep came to a halt and you found yourself hiding behind a tree, watching as Stiles stepped out of the car and briskly made his way up to the entrance of the Hale house. You shook your head, how did he even know the Hale family? Reluctantly, you followed him, taking uneasy glances around the huge, yet collapsing, house. You watched as Stiles opened the front door and stepped in, no hesitation what so ever. Your head lulled back, the last thing you wanted to do was go into the Hale house and merely 2 in the morning. Yet, you carried on, silently jogging up to the front of the house.  

You gingerly walked up the stairs, coming face to face with door. You stood there frozen. What were you supposed to do? Knock? Walk in? You took a deep breath and gripped the brass doorknob, the feeling of the metal cold against your sweaty palms. You opened the door, peeping your head around the corner to see five pairs of eyes staring at you. 

One of the eyes glows blue, long jagged teeth emerging from his mouth, claws drawn at his sides. You let out a scream, pressing your back into the wall as the man strides towards you. 

“Woah wait!” you hear Stiles’ voice call from behind the ginormous man. You stare at his glowing, electric blue eyes as they slowly return to a normal brown color, teeth receding into his mouth. The man glares at you.

“Stiles.. who is this?” the man asks in a low voice, his eyes not leaving you as he speaks. The other three people shift uneasily, all making there way towards you. 

“Who are you?” you hiss at the man. His upper lip twitches, “Derek Hale”. You stare in awe, “Stiles why are you hanging out with Derek Hale and why does he have glowing blue eyes?” you ask. Stiles runs his hands over his face, “Ok ok.. well um. Derek that’s my girlfriend Y/N.. and uh erm.. Y/N that’s Derek Hale” Stiles says. You shoot him a glare, only to notice Scott standing right next to him along with two of your other friends from school, Lydia and Allison. 

“What are you guys doing here? Is this some kind of cult?” you ask nervously. Derek snorts, “Close enough”. You look at him wide eyed. Scott turns to Stiles, “Does she know?” he asks. You shake your head, “Do I know what?” 

Derek rolls his eyes and lets his head slam into his hands, “Stiles, you didn’t tell her?” he groans. You begin to grow impatient, “Tell me what?” you groan. Stiles throws his hands in the air, “How am I supposed to tell my girlfriend that my best friend is a werewolf with werewolf friends that I secretly visit in the night!” he retorts. Shock floods your body and your eyes dart around the room.

“Wait, so you are all werewolves?” you ask. “No, only Scott and I..” Derek murmurs as his eyes glow blue once again. You look at Scott and with ultimate hesitation, he lets his eyes flash a deep crimson color. You stand there in silence, keeping your mouth squeezed shut. 

“So, you’ve been sneaking out every night to hang out with your werewolf buddies?” you ask Stiles. He licks his lips and nods his head.

“That’s so awesome!” you laugh. The whole pack looks at you in awe. 

“What?” Stiles asks in surprise. 

“Dude, you gotta tell me these things. You know I’ll want in” you say, still shocked yet excited about your new found friends of the supernatural. 

“Uhm.. alright then” Stiles replies, letting a huge breath flow through his lips. You then spent the rest of the night with the pack, learning about werewolves and other supernatural creatures with Stiles sitting right next to you, arm hooked around your shoulders the entire time. 

Southside Serpent-ess

Alice Cooper never left the Southside, and her daughter was best friends with a certain beanied boy when they were young. He leaves, and when he comes back to live with his foster parents, the two reunite. 


Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones were inseparable. As young kids they would play with each other every single day. They were both outsiders. Even though their parents we’re both the top of the food chain with the Southside Serpents, they both seemed to be going down a different route. Betty had high blonde pigtails, and had a bright pink leather jacket the only one she wore because she refused to wear all of the black ones like her mothers, over her yellow sun overalls. Jughead always wore the beanie that Betty wore during her knitting phase. He was quiet and liked reading, unlike his father and every other serpent. 

They both went to Southside Middle School together. They sat at the back of the bus in silence everyday. Him with his books, and her just staring outside of the dirty bus window. 

When they were 5, FP left. That meant that Jughead had to leave the Southside and go live with another family on the other sides of the tracks. He was only allowed to spend two minutes with her before he had to leave with his new family. 

11 years later, the two best friends still haven’t seen each other, but his long lost best friend never left his mind. Jughead has transferred to many different foster homes and group homes, each feeling less and less like home then the one before. Jughead waited impatiently for his social worker to tell him where he is going to be living next. He knew the drill. He would go to his new home, and when they realized who he was, they would kick him out for the next family to come and take him. But this one, he was hopeful for.

“You’ll be staying with the Redlands. In the Southside.” she said, holding a folder with all of his past foster homes. 

Jughead took a huge sigh, and with a smile crossing on his lips she started talking again. “That means you will be transferring schools again. Now, you will be going to,” Jughead closed his eyes looking at his hands, praying for Southside High, “Southside High.”

Jughead looked up and smiled, not saying anything. He knew that if Betty Cooper was still on the Southside, she would be at that school. With him. Again. He was so excited he couldn’t stand it. He knew that it was Sunday, and he would be moving in later that day, so he wouldn’t be able to (possibly) see her until Monday. 

He got up and went back to his old foster home and packed his things into his large camping bag. It felt like all the air that was in his lungs was released. He finally got to leave the hell hole. He got to go back to where he belonged and blend in. 

When he left the house he felt like he was free. He could do anything he wanted because he was no longer cooped up in a house that treated him like a dog. Maybe the family on the Southside would be able to relate to him more. Maybe they even knew who FP or Betty is. 

As he walked back over the tracks, he felt like he was at home. The dirty air and sandy earth filled his lungs like nothing has before. He took a few more steps before reaching his new home. He knocked on the door and a dirty-blonde middle aged woman opened the door with a warm smile. 

“Hi! You must be Jughead. I’m Elyse. Come on in.” she said, opening the door. Jughead walked in and took a look around at the neat and tidy entryway of his new home. She showed his around the clean house and ended up in his new dark blue bedroom. 

He dumped his backpack on the blue queen size bed and decided that he would skip dinner and get to bed. 

“Hey Elyse? Is it okay if I just go to bed? I want to make sure I get enough energy for tomorrow. You know, first day of school and such.” he said, sitting down on the edge of his first real bed. 

“Of course, whatever you need. I’ll make sure we have breakfast tomorrow morning for you. Have a nice sleep Jughead.” she said, with a small smile on her face. She slowly closed the door behind her leaving Jughead in the dimly lit blue-themed bedroom.

The next morning Jughead was woken up by the sound of his alarm coming from his phone. He got up and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stepped in and washed his hair and body before getting out and finishing getting ready.

He walked down the creaky wood stairs with the smell of bacon and waffles filling his nostrils. He quickly grabbed his phone and texted Archie saying that he’ll meet him at Pop’s after school.

After a delicious breakfast, courtesy of Elyse, he headed out the door and walked until he reached his new school. Southside High. 

He walked through the front doors and was unpleasantly surprised when he saw security patting down kids. He waited his turn and passed through the security with ease. He found his locker and then found his classes.

He felt like the teachers were stuck in molasses they were talking so slowly. A second in one of his first two period classes felt like an hour. Finally, the bell rang for lunch. He grabbed his stuff and bolted out of the classroom to the cafeteria. He grabbed his lunch and sat down at an empty table. A bunch of other rough looking guys came and sat down at his table. Jughead at first was intimidated, but they were actually cool guys.

“So Jones, got any girls on you mind?” the guy in the leather jacket asked. 

Another guy, wearing a blue and grey hoodie, wolf whistled, which made all the guys at the table turn their heads. Including Jughead. “Speaking of girls…” he started, but Jughead didn’t hear the rest.

She was beautiful. She was wearing black ripped jeans and a Pink Leather Jacket with the Southside Serpents logo on the back. She was wearing black leather combat boots and her blonde wavy hair was in a half-up half-down look, which reached her waist, right above her butt. And what an ass it was. She turned around and all the colour rushed out of Jughead’s face.

Betty Cooper.

She was even more attractive then when they were little. She had light eyeshadow on her lids, dark eyeliner and thick mascara on her long eyelashes. Her lips were tinted a dark red and she had light pink blush on the apples of her cheeks. 

Her greenish/blueish eyes met his dark ones and a smile grew on her face. She started to walk over to Jughead’s table and all of the boys at his table looked at Jughead in shock. 

Betty’s boots hit the tiled floor with loud thuds, making the whole cafeteria look her way. She ended up in front of Jughead, one eyebrow lifted, sitting on one of her hips and arms crossed. 

“Well I’ll be darned. Jughead Jones. I was wondering when you’d turn up again.” she said, her soft velvet voice making Jughead stare at her beautiful face. She sat down next to him, making Jughead’s stare end. 

“Hey, Betty Cooper. Long time no see.” he said, turning so they were facing each other. He knew that everyone’s eyes were on them, but he couldn’t care less. All that was on his mind was his beautiful blonde best friend that he hasn’t seen in forever. 

“So, want to catch up later? Pop’s then movie night at my trailer?” she asked, pulling her hair up into her ponytail like she sometimes did when they were little. 

“I’m meeting Archie Andrew’s there after school. Wanna come with me? Then we can head back to your trailer.” he said, playing with one of his suspenders. 

“Sure, sounds good. I’ve heard of Andrews. Football player right?” she asked, cracking her knuckles.

“Yeah. He’s my best friend- well second best friend, after you of course.” he said, and he noticed that her cheeks and neck started to redden. 

“So we’re still best friends? After all this time?” she asked, looking down at her hands.

“Of course. I never forgot about you. Remember? I love you.” he said, grabbing her hands with his.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too Jones.” she said, finally building up the courage to look at him. 

He finally noticed that everyone was staring at them. They have all witnessed the daughter of the leader and the new kid confess their love for each other in the middle of the cafeteria.

And they weren’t mad at all.

Girly (Yondu x Reader)

Synopsis: You’re found by Yondu’s crew and taken in because he believes you can be of use to him. Maybe in more ways than one … 

A/N: I had never thought of writing a Yondu fanfic until I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw some fanfics. Why did I stumble across these?!?! Not that I’m entirely complaining! ;p

Hope you all enjoy! ;p

Warnings: Some swearing, very mild sexual stuff, some death.

Word count: 7k

Keep reading

The Governor’s Ball

I watched the transformation in fascination. 

Red-heeled shoes and silk stockings clocked in black. Gray satin breeches with silver knee buckles. Snowy linen, with Brussels lace six inches deep at cuff and jabot. The coat, a masterpiece in heavy gray with blue satin cuffs and crested silver buttons, hung behind the door, awaiting its turn. 

He finished the careful powdering of his face, and licking the end of one finger, picked up a false beauty mark, dabbed it in gum arabic, and affixed it neatly near the corner of his mouth. 

“There,” he said, swinging about on the dressing stool to face me. “Do I look like a red-heided Scottish smuggler?” 

I inspected him carefully, from full-bottomed wig to morocco-heeled shoes. 

“You look like a gargoyle,” I said. His face flowered in a wide grin. Outlined in white powder, his lips seemed abnormally red, his mouth even wider and more expressive than it usually was. 

Non!” said Fergus indignantly, coming in in time to hear this. “He looks like a Frenchman.” 

“Much the same thing,” Jamie said, and sneezed. Wiping his nose on a handkerchief, he assured the young man, “Begging your pardon, Fergus.” 

He stood up and reached for the coat, shrugging it over his shoulders and settling the edges. In three-inch heels, he towered to a height of six feet seven; his head nearly brushed the plastered ceiling. 

“I don’t know,” I said, looking up at him dubiously. “I’ve never seen a Frenchman that size.” 

Jamie shrugged, his coat rustling like autumn leaves. “Aye, well, there’s no hiding my height. But so long as my hair is hidden, I think it will be all right. Besides,” he added, gazing with approval at me, “folk willna be looking at me. Stand up and let me see, aye?” 

I obliged, rotating slowly to show off the deep flare of the violet silk skirt. Cut low in the front, the décolletage was filled with a froth of lace that rippled down the front of the bodice in a series of V’s. Matching lace cascaded from the elbow-length sleeves in graceful white falls that left my wrists bare. 

“Rather a pity I don’t have your mother’s pearls,” I remarked. I didn’t regret their lack; I had left them for Brianna, in the box with the photographs and family documents. Still, with the deep décolletage and my hair twisted up in a knot, the mirror showed a long expanse of bare neck and bosom, rising whitely out of the violet silk. 

“I thought of that.” With the air of a conjuror, Jamie produced a small box from his inside pocket and presented it to me, making a leg in his best Versailles fashion. 

Inside was a small, gleaming fish, carved in a dense black material, the edges of its scales touched with gold. 

“It’s a pin,” he explained. “Ye could maybe wear it fastened to a white ribbon round your neck?” 

“It’s beautiful!” I said, delighted. “What’s it made of? Ebony?” 

“Black coral,” he said. “I got it yesterday, when Fergus and I were in Montego Bay.” He and Fergus had taken the Artemis round the island, disposing at last of the cargo of bat guano, delivered to its purchaser. 

I found a length of white satin ribbon, and Jamie obligingly tied it about my neck, bending to peer over my shoulder at the reflection in the mirror. 

“No, they won’t be looking at me,” he said. “Half o’ them will be lookin’ at you, Sassenach, and the other half at Mr. Willoughby.”

-Voyager

lindseyylu17  asked:

This would totally be an AU fic but I would love to see Claire teaching a figure drawing class and Jamie being one of the students draws her.

So this is a bit of a role reversal from what you requested @lindseyylu17, but I’m enjoying it. 


“We have to what?” The entire class exclaimed in disbelief. The professor smirked and relaxed against the lab table.

“All of you heard me just fine. I expect to see the results from this class and Professor Montgomery is already expecting you starting tomorrow night. Don’t worry about supplies, Professor Montgomery says that he’ll have things ready for you each class, just remember to sign in on both of our rosters. This class starts at 8pm sharp tonight! I don’t want to hear about any of you being late!” Doctor Randall looked down at her wrist and waved her hand towards the door dismissing us.

I packed my bag with my head still reeling from what Doctor Randall required, Life Drawing, a class designed to embarrass all of the parties involved. Naked men and woman lounging for hours at a time while a gaggle of students attempted to draw their forms from various angles.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!” I whisper yelled to myself as she made her way across the empty campus. “I can’t take a life drawing class I just… can’t! I can’t draw to save my life! Besides how does life drawing even fit with an anatomy class? I should be learning how to—”

“Talking to yourself again, Claire?”

“Agh!” I swung around nearly hitting my former roommate with her bag.

“Jenny!” I exclaimed clutching a hand to her heart, “you know not to sneak up on me like that!”

Jenny laughed and settled her hands on her hips, “Och aye but that’s the best time to sneak up on ye! What were you ranting to yourself about this time? Did fuddy-duddy Professor Whitman assign another frog dissection?”

Jenny’s strong Scottish accent lilting with each word and I smiled at the familiarity of if. “No, not Whitman…this time.”  

I laughed and Jenny snorted, linking her arm with mine as we made our way to the library.

“So if it wasn’t Whitman who and what did they do to deserve the horrible Beauchamp rant?”

“Doctor Randall. Not the history professor, his wife the biology professor,” I amended quickly. “Doctor Annie Randall, who isn’t even a doctor by the way! She dropped out of her residency and decided to teach Bio 425 and she’s forcing us to go to Life Drawing instead of our lab class for the next two months!”

Jenny’s eyes went wide, not only in shock but in the way I knew she was plotting something. “So ye have to take the life drawing classes this quarter?”

“Ugh! Yes. I really don’t see the point in this class. I’m in biology not art!”

“Quitcher whinging Claire and just go to the damn class. Ye never know what ye might find or should I say who.”

——–

The art room was small, cold, poorly lit and reeked of chemical adhesives. Was this really happening? I kept asking myself. Was I really taking a life drawing class? I groaned thinking of how my time would be better spent studying or in the lab examining specimens, rather in this dank room foolishly facing a class I felt was beneath me. Why art? Why did she have to send us to an art class, what good would this do or bring to us? Artist are careless junkies that will get nowhere in life. This chosen path won’t pay their bills or get them the type of scholarships needed to further pursue a career. I couldn’t fathom their reasons for joining a group that might lead them to ruin.

“Class! Come to order now, please!” The hippie who I assumed was Professor Montgomery said with a clap of his hands.

“Please cease your conversations and begin to find your way to an easel, then position yourself so that you may see the stage unobstructed.”

The so called ‘stage’ was compiled of ratty boxes haphazardly draped with tattered striped cloths and a wicker chair that look as though the weight of a butterfly would cause the fibers to crumble.

“On the easel in front of you, you shall find a fresh pad of newsprint. You have five minutes in a medium of your choice to do a nice warm up sketch of the popcorn kernel I am passing out now.”

“What?” I mumbled to myself as everyone around me pulled out pens, charcoal, pencils and pastels, even my fellow biology classmates had found a tin of pencils and were passing them around to one another.

“Ready?” Professor Montgomery paused, looking around. He pulled a stick from behind his ear and handed it to me. “You may begin!”

With the oddly shaped pencil I paused with it’s point on the paper, not sure how to start. The lumpy, misshapen mass in my hand did not resemble popcorn in the least. The people around me were making wild gestures with their arms, beautiful curves appearing on the easels I could see. Taking a steadying breath I mimicked their motions and had the faintest of curves when the timer went off and we were told to stop.

“Perfect! Now that we’re all warmed up I would like to introduce our first two weeks model.” He swept his hands towards a side door that cracked open slightly. “This is our model’s first time sitting for a life drawing class so please, everyone give the warmest of welcomes to Mr. Alexander Malcolm!”

The model appeared from behind the door clad in a fluffy blue robe. His steps were sluggish and hesitant, I got the feeling he didn’t want to be there as much as I did. He slowly made his way towards the stage, but not climbing into position.

“Mr. Malcolm, if you please.” Professor Montgomery said gesturing towards the boxes.

Mr. Malcolm stared at the professor. From the reactions I could see of my classmates and the professor, the model was challenging him.

“Mind if I work up to disrobing?” A deep and thick Scots accent drifted my way.

“Fine!” Came the angry reply from Professor Montgomery. “But this is for tonight only! I have you for only four sittings and tonight is a shortened class due to first day bullshit! Tomorrow I expect you to be prepared from the moment the class arrives.”

Mr. Malcolm nodded tersely. He kept his head down as he approached the stage and settled himself on the wicker chair, which creaked with his weight.

“Mr. Malcolm will sit in this position for ten minutes, before adjusting to a different pose in a different direction.There will be five different poses, each lasting ten minutes tonight. Typically we do twelve fifteen minutes poses, but tonight we shall adjust! Please capture as much as possible given the circumstances. I want your drawings labeled per pose, with your name on it, and date at the end of the class. Other students use these pads so please try not to be heavy handed. You may begin!”

From my angle all I could see was the bulky collar, the top of his shoulder blades and his shoulder-length curly red hair. I tried to capture the way his shoulders fit the robe and disappeared behind the wicker chair. However, when I looked at the drawing the paper reflected back a mass of scribbles that no matter what way you looked at it, you could not tell what it was meant to be.

I huffed out a breath and tried again, this time focusing on his hair. Again the spirals on the page no more reflected the coils of Mr. Malcolm’s hair than it did the curve of his shoulder. Our time started to dwindle down on this first pose, Professor Montgomery began to adjust a small space heater to point towards the stage. I noticed the model’s shoulders tense and his arm begin to shake.

“Stop! Readjust!”

Mr. Malcolm stood and took a deep breath before untying the front of his robe. The fabric swung to his sides. He turned and began to sit on a block directly in front of me, I finally caught a glimpse of the man I was supposed to study. His muscles were well defined, smattered with freckles and curls of fair blonde and red hairs. They made a trail that lead to a patch of even thicker curls that surrounded, while flaccid, still a very impressive penis. My clinical mind took over, examining his every muscle and curve. The way the skin was stretch taught in areas, and bulged in others. I wondered what activities he must do to maintain the way he looked. Even sitting there wasn’t a roll or wrinkle of fat. His body was the perfect biology project.

“Stop! Readjust!”

I jolted from the sudden exclamation. Looking at my easel, I realized I hadn’t sketched a single line. I had to shake myself out of this. He was just a man. A very well defined, attractive man, but still just a man. Think of him as a patient and this is how you’re to figure out what’s wrong with him! Get your head on the assignment, Beauchamp!

Three more positions followed and with each one Mr. Malcolm slowly became more and more unclothed until finally the robe was laying across the floor out of his reach. My temper rose with each minute. This man was most likely being paid for this, but still he was being put on display in front of complete strangers who are meant to analyze his every feature. I could not understand why he was putting himself through this torture, he was clearly not comfortable no matter how long the class went on and I couldn’t blame him. Not only was he being exploited but the amount of females in the class started to overwhelm even me. These girls shouldn’t be allowed to look at him this way! He wasn’t theirs to oogle and treat like a piece of meat! He’s not yours either, a small voice reminded me. Yet, he felt like he was mine. I felt the need to cover him up and hide his body from sight, to protect him and comfort him….

My internal rant lead to the rapid end of class. I didn’t even hear the final instructions nor did I care I only had two of the required five drawings. I signed, dated, and numbered them before tearing the sheet off of the pad and handing it in. Mr. Malcolm had already disappeared from sight. Slowly I returned my supplies and stared at the door he had appeared from at the start of class. Tomorrow then, I thought and hitched my bag over my shoulder just as the side door squeaked open. The lights were dimmed even further than before and I could just catch the glint of his red hair as he darted out of the classroom.

“There’s the nudest!” A bellowing, familiar, laugh sounded.

“Shut it Ian, or I’ll make ye!”

“Och, come off it Jamie! Ye ken I’m just pullin yer leg! How was it? Did your cock come out to play and make the lassies faint with desire?” The sarcastic tone was cut off by a loud thump. I slipped through the door in time to see none other than Ian Murray rubbing his jaw from where Mr. Malcolm, or Jamie, had hit him. Ian merely laughed more.

“Are ye tellin me there wasn’t a single thing good to come from that class?” Ian’s tone was similar to that of his fiancee’s, sneaky and up to something.

“Nay!” Jamie roared as they made their way to the elevators. “I canna believe ye and my sister dared me and not only dared, but forced me to do this after losing a bet! There isn’t enough money in the world to make me want to come back tomorrow night! It’s definitely not worth the sixty pounds they’re paying me!”

Ian had his arm around Jamie’s shoulder as the two of them entered the elevator. As Jamie/Mr. Malcolm turned around we made eye contact, maybe the first of the night, but his eyes went wide. He was saying something to Ian but I couldn’t hear nor make it out as the doors shut and I was left alone on the abandoned art floor.

I Need You | Draco Malfoy x Trans!Male Reader (Part 1)

(A/N): Not really sure if this will actually become a series or not, it all depends on if you guys enjoy it! Much love!

Warnings: None

Words: 1143


(Third Person) POV:

Hatred. A pure, raw rage filled Draco Malfoy’s belly. It was a feeling so foreign to him. Most times, if he wanted something, he got it. But this isn’t an overpriced item at Borgin and Burkes, it wasn’t some antique that he knew he would eventually inherit, and this was most certainly not a precious gem tucked away in his vault at Gringotts. This was (Y/N).

He’d been worn thin by him years ago. It started when he was placed in the Slytherin house, the way he burst with a gleam of happy curiosity. Draco wanted him even more when he caught him changing one day, revealing that the boy was transgender. The tight, puckered scar underneath his pecs had Draco’s breathing hitch as he yearned to reach out and touch it, kiss it, adore it.

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Man In Uniform {Part 11| The End}

Fandom: Avengers/Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: N/A

Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom aka @thequeenofthehobbits

Summary/Request: James Barnes is the local neighbourhood cop known for saving cats from trees and walking people home at night. It just so happens that he lives in your apartment building, in the apartment across from yours.

Prologue X, Part 1 X, Part 2 X, Part 3 X, Part 4 X, Part 5 X, Part 6 X, Part 7 X, Part 8 X, Part 9 X, Part 10 X

Man In Uniform Tag List:

@superwholockian5ever @theasparagusawakens @darkblaze16 @ria132love @clumsycaitx @cutekittybast @quilliamfears

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Preference: Telling Them You Are Pregnant

request(s): i got requests for this so here it is

a/n: kit, jimmy, and rory will be on purpose and tate, kyle, and james will be by accident… im not gonna do edward

————

Tate (pre-death)

Originally posted by paestic

Your hands shake as you grip your fate in clammy fingers.  Squinting your eyes shut you turn the stick over, you see the double stripped line… you’re pregnant. You grip the icy gold doorknob and twist to find a nervous Tate pacing back and forth in front of the bed, when he sees you he takes a few steps forward and then sees the shock on your face, “What does it say?”  His voice implies he knows the answer.  You just nod and outstretch and unfurl your fist.  “Oh my god..” Tate whispers.  “I-I,”  You can’t finish as tears fill your eyes, you turn to run back into the bathroom but Tate catches your arm and tugs you back to look into his deep brown eyes.  “What’s wrong??”  He begs.  “It’s ok, I know this is a lot of responsibility but I have to keep it, I understand if you don’t-”  Your voice cracks badly and tears spill over.  “No! No!  I’m going to be here for you,”  He cups your face with his big, warm hands, “I’m here always.”

Kit

Originally posted by thesimplethingsinlifex


Kit knocks at the door again and whines, “What does it say? Has it worked yet?”  You sigh and call for the third time, “No it hasn- wait wait, it says now!!”  You see the positive sign and your heart leaps in your chest.  You rip the door open and stand in front of a disheveled Kit, hair going every which way from nervous combing, “I’m pregnant Kit… We’re having a baby!!”  Kit’s handsome face curls into a blinding smile and he hugs you around the waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you.  “Kit!! Kit!! Put me down, the baby you goof!”  You wail, smacking his back.  Chuckling he sets you down and grabs your face, smushing your cheeks so you look like a chipmunk, “I’m sorry love, it’s just, you couldn’t possibly make my life any better but then you give me a child!!”  He peppers your face with kisses as your heart flutters; you couldn’t ask for a better husband and father of your child.

Kyle (pre-death)

Originally posted by prettyboysbrokenhearts

You knock frantically on the front door of Kyle’s fraternity.  Your stomach is clenched uncomfortably and your eyes are stinging.  His brother opens the door, “Hey, Y/N!! Oh um are you o-”  You don’t let him finish.  “I’m sorry I really need to see Kyle.”  He nods and points you up the stairs telling you he’s studying in his room.  When you walk in Kyle’s room a wide smile spreads on his face, but it fades when he sees how nervous you look.  “Kyle-Ky, I’m pregnant.”  You laugh out in nervousness.  Kyle looks at you concerned but he smiles, “What…Why are you smiling??”  He comes up to you and brushes hair out of your face, “Because I love you, and I’m going to love this baby.”  He drops to his knees and kisses your stomach.

Jimmy

Originally posted by sseejmovies

You sit on the ratty old couch crossing and uncrossing your legs.  Brimming with excitement you bounce your foot waiting for Jimmy to come back with breakfast.  As soon as the door swings open you are on your feet, “JIMMY!!”  He jumps and then sighs, “You might want to put those down,” you order, talking too fast.  Turning around and setting down the tray Jimmy asks you apprehensively, “What, Y/N, is everything okay?”  You nod and a giant smile tugs at your cheeks, “Jimbo, it happened,”  His eyes go wide as the moon, “You’re pregnant??”  You nod and tears leak down his cheeks as he sweeps you into his strong steady arms, “I love you!  We’re going to cherish this little baby.”

James

Originally posted by jamesmarchmaid

You sweep through the halls of the hotel searching for your husband, your deep sea blue gown drifting behind you.  You burst through the doors into the lobby and at last you see James up at the bar talking to Liz.  “James!”  You call as you ascend the stairs.  James’ face lights up as he turns, “Dearest! Oh my, I was right, that gown is absolutely stunning on you.”  You smile and blush and then it just bursts out of you, “James I’m pregnant.”  His face breaks into an even wider smile but is also confused, “…but I am a ghost?”  You shrug and caress the side of his face, “Well I’m pregnant and we’re going to have our own little family!!”  He sweeps you into a deep kiss and when he sets you upright whispers in wonder “A protege…”  Liz laughs and pops a bottle of champagne, “Congratulations for my parents to be, champagne for the gentleman and a virgin pina colada for the lady.”

Rory

Originally posted by moviesreality

You skip into your bedroom and push Rory in bed, “Get up, get up you boob,”  he groans and sits up, rubbing his face, “Who you calling a boob?”  You give him a sneaky smile and he squints his eyes in anticipation, “What are you cooking up you kook?”  You laugh and point at your stomach, “A BUN!!”  You two had been trying to get pregnant for 3 months and finally it happened.  “Wait…bun.. a bun IN THE OVEN!! OH! You’re pregnant!!”  He screams and hops out of bed sweeping you off your feet and running around the room carrying you wedding style.  When Rory finally puts you down he kisses you deeply, but he pulls away quickly and yells, “CAN WE NAME IT RORY THE SECOND!?”  Laughing you smack him on the back of the head, “Definitely.”