but every once and a while they bubble over

Fries, Wine, and Bubble Bath

A little CS honeymoon fic, inspired by Jen, the queen of our ship.

Rated M. Also on ao3

She dips her fingers in the water to test the temperature. Nearly scalding, just how she likes it.

“You know,” Killian murmurs sidling up behind her, wearing nothing but his boxers, pressing himself against her from head to toe and wrapping his arm around her front, tangling his fingers in the ties of her robe. “This has to be one of my favorite things about your realm.”

“What? Did you not have robes in the Enchanted Forrest?”

Maybe if she thought a little harder, she would have realized that wasn’t what he was talking about. But he always comments on how much he fancies this realms fashions, especially the undergarments. And her brain has been thoroughly jumbled by their earlier activities so she doesn’t beat herself up too hard for the comment.

“No, love,” he chuckles into her throat, sending a shiver down her spine, nosing at the fabric of his robe against her shoulder. “The water faucet. Bathing was such a tiring affair, especially aboard the Jolly, heating the water and transferring it. It’s magical to be able to simply turn a nob until you’re satisfied. And there was nothing nearly as delightful as these bubbles.”

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she wouldn’t be wearing a swimsuit that small if anyone other than you and the nearby school of angelfish were here.

“mulder, that’s ridiculous,” she said last week at costco when you put two snorkel sets - a pink one for her because you think she looks cute in that color, a grey one for yourself because, unlike her, you don’t look good in pink - into your cart. “we’re not going to get that up-close. you know i don’t like swimming in the ocean.”

but as she dives below the sea’s surface once more, follows the school as they shimmy down by the nearly-endless reef below both of you, you’re pretty sure she was wrong.

she presses against the water with her hands, moves away from you while you look in between sea-fans and fire corals. though you’re thankful for the change, for the difference, you know these colors could never exist in the states, at least not in the part of the states where you both live, no matter how greatly you wish they would. out there, everything is grassy and earthy, the colors being those of mountains, canyons, freshwater lakes, but here, cold and warm fluorescents light up the strangely-blue water, and though you’re wearing goggles, the world comes through in perfectly clear technicolor. the fish are like pizza shop open signs, the reefs textured and endless, the sand flitted with pink flecks that shine out most when they’re stuck to her hands. after the bout of winter you’ve had in virginia, the warmth and vibrance of the maldives feel life-affirming, the combination acting as a brash awakening to the varying beauties of the world. you’re glad that your first true vacation together was to somewhere that feels like another planet.

and dana scully on a beach has been your most pleasant surprise so far. somehow, she found a tiny surf-shack for you both to stay in on himmafushi, just a bedroom and no kitchen, so when you’re both not lounging around and reading with the windows open, you’re on the beach, her sunscreen close by and your typical clothes left in your suitcases; most often, you’re both wearing swimsuits, the exposure of her skin so new even though you’ve known her for so many years. now, you eye her tattoo far ahead of you in the water, her glance drifting back, her eyes signaling keep up, mulder.

then, she dives down, and because she goes head-first past its edge, you’re sure she’s at the end of the reef. kicking forward, you follow, then tense as you see the depth; apparently, you’re farther out than you assumed, for the distance from the sandy bottom to the crests of the waves is…ten, maybe fifteen feet? the reef alone must be four feet tall. with her stomach parallel to the bottom, she swims alongside two stringrays, the three making a pale pack, the rays shimmying like bedsheets on a clothesline in summer; you breathe at the top of the water, the glugging sounds of lapping waves coming into your years, and wish you had a camera so that you could immortalize the way she blends in here, could always remember her sense of ease on this part of the planet. then, the rays swivel off in other directions, and she needs a breath, so she presses up, crests through the water a few feet away, leaves a trail of bubbles behind her. lazily, you pad over to her while her dainty little ankles tread water.

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Preference No. 2: The First Kiss

A/N: Guess who tried to write Jacob for the first time? (This girl!) Guess who failed at writing him? (This girl!) I’m not sure why Altaïr’s is so short compared to the others, it just kind of happened.


Altaïr:

The strong rays of the summer sun were beating down on your back, your body ignoring it in favor of lunging towards Altaïr. Unfortunately, he’d seen your move coming, dodging out of the way before you could land the blow. With a quick sweep of his foot, he had you falling towards the ground. You closed your eyes, bracing for an impact that never came. 

Altaïr wrapped one strong arm around you, keeping your body close to his chest. Neither of you spoke, your eyes gazing into each other’s as the sun heated your embrace. Slowly, so slowly, you inched towards his mouth. He kept still, an unreadable mask placed over his face. You, however, were undeterred. 

With gentle grace, your lips met. Upon contact, Altaïr righted your stance, pulling your body flush against his. It was as sweet as the finest candy and as hot as the crackling fire, his lips leaving no inch of yours unexplored. And it ended all too soon. He didn’t speak as he unwrapped himself from your embrace, nodding once to you. His muscles were tense as his steps echoed around, your smile on his retreating form. He’d be back.


Ezio:

Each star in the sky twinkled brilliantly down at you, the festive sounds from the city below dancing around your figure. It was like a fairytale, watching the people move about their business from the rooftops. They all looked so busy, like they all had somewhere to be at the moment. Your musings were cut short by a warm hand trailing across your back, hot breath ghosting your cheek.

“Lovely night,” he whispered, observing the streets from behind you. You nodded, turning to face him.

“Ezio,” you greeted. He smiled, the scar on his lip doing nothing to fade his beauty.

“May I inquire why such a stunning woman is all alone on a night like this?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his endless flirting.

“Who else would keep your ass in line?” His lips turned up in a half smile, the moonlight outlining his near perfect features. Wordlessly, his fingertips tipped your head towards him, his lips crashing softly against yours. Your surprised gasp gave him the advantage he needed, his velvety tongue slipping effortlessly into your mouth. He was like ice and fire, night and day, his hands everywhere, yet nowhere. It was too much, and yet, it wasn’t enough. 

His body was tight against yours, his arms practically holding you up. His lips worked diligently with his tongue, bringing as much pleasure as he could. When the need for breath became too overpowering, you pulled away, your forehead plastered against his. His hold wasn’t leaving you and you had one hell of a feeling that it wouldn’t be anytime soon.


Connor:

A cool breeze rustled the strands of your hair, interrupting the silence with its soft whistle. The heat from Connor’s body was practically blanketing you in an eternal warmth, his form poised and ready with bow in hand. You’d tagged along with him while he was hunting, if only to spend time with him. It was comforting, watching him act so naturally. There was nothing forced about his motives or movements, all of it coming from his own spirit. 

You watched as he pulled the string back, his muscles flexing beneath the strain. You observed as he released it, a sense of accomplishment in his eyes. And you surveyed as he looked to you, a soft smile playing on his lips, his expression just waiting for you to compliment. You didn’t disappoint. There was just something so heartwarming about the massive man lighting up at your words, his rare smile growing. So much so that you couldn’t resist pulling his head down and placing your lips upon his own. 

His arms were moving around wildly, the confidence from hunting not transferring to the current activity. Finally his tense posture relaxed, his lips melting against yours. His movements were tentative, letting you dominate the kiss as he placed his hands gently against your hips. It was sweet and loving, each moment slow. It was everything you could want, Connor’s scent enveloping you, his touch embracing you. You pulled back, smiling at his blushing face. He looked utterly adorable, his hair askew from your hands, his brown eyes blown wide, and his lips shining. He was stumbling back, random excuses tumbling from his lips. You could only laugh as he practically bolted from the scene, your eyes watching each movement. Perhaps next time he’d stay.


Haytham:

The rowdy sounds of the pub rolled over you, the burning tingle dripping down your throat silencing them. Your dulled senses could only register his grey eyes, dark like the clouds before a storm. His sweet aroma of aged spices and something so utterly him surrounding you. The pub was too hot, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each intake of breath. You yearned for him, every inch of your skin screaming for his. 

It was sick and sweet and so very primal. His white teeth shone in the candlelight, radiating the very air with his power. He knew you were so close to breaking, so close to giving in. Just one suggestive look and you were his. However, you were not so breakable. Your mind began clearing, taking a step out into the dreary night in hopes that you might better calm your thoughts. The game still stretched on, you and Haytham dancing around one another like cat and mouse, the other absolutely refusing to give in. 

Only, as he walked towards you through the darkness, you knew he was the predator and you were the prey. With each clank of his boot, your heart beat faster. Each confident step fueled your arousal more, your eyes practically begging him by the time he stopped inches from you. He didn’t need any more permission, lurching forward to connect your lips in a kiss so raw, so primal, your feet curled in their confines. 

It was rough, his body pushing you against the wet, splintering walls of the alley, his tongue demanding entrance. He was hot against you, giving in to every bit of his animalistic need, the pent up tension from the past few weeks bubbling over. It wasn’t until you were out of breath, your nails scratching at his back, your legs wrapped around his middle, that he slowed the kiss down, presenting his emotions. It was just as, if not more so, fulfilling as the heated kiss, a sweet song in your heart. He didn’t let you go after that.


Edward:

You were in the stuffy confines of the captain’s quarters, watching Adéwalé and Edward discuss their next journey. Every once in a while Edward’s piercing blue gaze would meet yours, letting you know that he hadn’t forgot about you. With each witty remark, he looked to see if you laughed. Most of the time, you had. Adé seemed to get more and more frustrated with him, deciding it was time to leave when Edward sent you a saucy wink, barely paying attention to Adéwalé.

“You asked for me?” You inquired, breathing in the sweet smell of salt in the air, the soft rock of waves crashing into the boat below.

“Aye, lass,” he nodded, his pink lips turned up in a smile.

“Why, exactly?” Sure, you and Edward had been close. In fact, the two of you were often reminiscing of past times or sharing little jokes. But he’d never asked you to come to his room before.

“I thought we might share a drink.” His rough accent surrounded you, the sheer sound of it making you dizzy. To simply put it, Edward Kenway was intoxicating. You never thought you’d be one to fall under the spell of the brash and dashing captain, but things don’t always go as planned.

“Why not go with the others?” You asked.

“Do you always ask this many questions?” He questioned, an amused little smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled out a flask of rum, sitting at the table and gesturing for you to do the same. You obliged, looking over his features. He was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. He was the kind of man women draped themselves over and men respected. “Besides, who’d ever say no to a little rum?” You took the flask from his hand, mirroring his expression.

“Certainly not me,” you muttered, taking a throat-burning gulp of the beverage.

“Easy, lass,” he warned, “it wouldn’t be the smartest of moves to get drunk in a pirate’s cabin.” You rolled your eyes, knowing that Edward would never treat you like that.

“Says the one giving me the drink.” He chuckled.

“Fair point.” Your smile widened, moving closer to Edward. He looked at you with questioning eyes, the smirk never once leaving his face.

“Besides, you’re not the type.” You challenged.

“Am I not?” He teased, an eyebrow raised.

“Nope,” you drawled, nearly jumping out of your skin when Edward pounced. He had you pinned beneath him, your limbs unable to move.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he muttered, his gaze raking hungrily over your body. You made no move to leave, prompting him to attack your lips with the fury of a lion. His lips were surprisingly sweet despite the situation, betraying his true feelings. Each caress of his mouth made you feel treasured, his hands keeping you against him. His lips were moving slowly, softly, his tongue exploring your mouth with honest curiosity. It was loving, and you cherished every second. It was like he was memorizing every part of your mouth, savoring in it like he’d never get it again. With a chaste kiss to your lips, he pulled away. And the damn infuriating smirk was put back on, his eyes glinting with mischief. Pirate, indeed.


Shay:

You knew it was going to be another long night, hours spent worrying in the dark of your home. It was always like this when Shay went away, chasing after whatever Haytham required. It was frustrating. You growled, pulling at your locks. Shay was careful and skilled, you knew that. But you couldn’t help but worry for your friend. He was so blinded by hatred that he could lose sight of himself. 

Your body aches, wishing more than anything that he would walk through your doors, a smile on his face as he greeted you with his beautiful accent. The seconds ticked by, each one dragging into the next as your mind imagined more and more scenarios of Shay in worse situations than the last. By the time Shay actually walked through the door, you were convinced he was bloodied, broken, and dead in some darkened alley, nobody around to attest to his death. You were filled with relief as he entered, a smile playing on his lips. You wasted no time in jumping up into his arms, your head resting against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured, a chuckle causing his chest to vibrate.

“I’m not that easy to kill,” he joked, his thick accent rolling smoothly from his tongue. Pulling back from his arms, you gazed into his dark eyes.

“You’re going to kill me with worry one of these days.” You stated, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Let’s hope not.” The two of you were looking into each other’s eyes, unconsciously moving closer. Before you knew it, your breaths were intermingling, your faces only inches from one another. With slow movements, you moved your head up as he moved his down, meeting in a fiery kiss. His lips moved against yours, somehow roughly and sweetly at the same time. His mouth was like fire, you no more than a freezing woman in the dead of winter. You couldn’t get enough of him, your tongues moving in tandem as you got even closer. His mouth was moving hotly against yours, backing you up as he kept your lips locked. 

You loved every minute of it, drinking up the taste of his mouth like you were dehydrated. Much too soon, in both of your opinions, did you pull apart. You were both breathing heavily, your eyes still locked. You may have another long night, but this one was definitely for more pleasurable reasons.


Arno:

The wind whipped by, your legs pushing you further along the stone rooftops despite your exhaustion. You felt free, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders. Your laughs echoed throughout the streets of Paris, alerting those below of your presence. Only, by the time they realized what happened, you were already out of view. It was a truly beautiful day, the sun shining brightly above. You were so lost in the feeling of freedom that you failed to notice the assassin watching from above. He jumped down, landing directly in front of you with a thump.

“Arno,” you greeted, keeping your surprise in check. However, he noticed it.

“(Y/N), you seem in a pleasant mood,” he commented, his eyes drinking you in.

“I am,” you agreed, smiling widely.

“Any particular reason?” He questioned, moving ever closer to you.

“It’s just a beautiful day.” You answered, a smile blooming on his face.

“It is indeed,” he agreed, taking another step closer.

“How has your day been?” You asked, your hands smoothing down your robes in a nervous gesture.

“It’s about to get a whole lot better,” he muttered, his hand resting softly on your cheek.

“Arno?” Your eyes were shining in confusion, meeting his own confident ones. He ascended slowly, giving you time to back out if you needed to. You didn’t. His lips were hot against yours, a hand snaking around your waist to pull you closer. You welcomed the touch, moving your mouth against his. You could feel his smile on your lips, his tongue slipping into your warm mouth. He was lazily mapping out your mouth, his kiss filled with emotion. 

It was sappy, sweet, and so Arno. Your hands tightened against his back at the loving feeling encompassing you. He felt much the same, continuing his languid movements. You felt like you were melting, his ministrations doing wonders. All too soon he pulled away, smiling down at you. You just knew it was the start of something amazing.


Jacob Frye:

You were wearing darkness like a cloak, watching the streets from the tops of buildings. It was almost disgusting, the amount of people tricked into thinking this “revolution” was anything more than another scam to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. The seriousness of the situation washed over you in waves, drowning you in the feel of hopelessness. 

Darkness was all you knew anymore, the lies and corruption of the city only pushing you further into abyss. And there was your only light, perched a few feet away from you with a top hat placed elegantly on his head like a crown. You smiled, watching him from behind.

“Jacob,” you called out. His eyes softened at your form, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Love,” he greeted, the endearment striking a chord within you.

“How long until the brawl?” You asked, hoping to divert your mind from the thought of him in a much more… pleasurable scenario. Too bad Evie wasn’t there, she normally kept your head out of the gutter.

“We’ve got time,” his accent drawled, confident steps walking towards you.

“Evie?” You questioned. He jerked his head to the left, his hat moving ever so slightly at the movement.

“With the rooks,” he explained.

“Ah,” you replied for lack of something better. “And why are you up here?”

“Because it’s too bloody hot in the pub.” You chuckled, your eyes shining with mirth.

“Of course it is.” He nodded his head towards you, stopping a mere foot from your position.

“And why might you be up here, love?” You could’ve sworn he put a little too much emphasis on the word, heat crawling up your neck. You shrugged.

“Thought it was a nice night for a walk.” He laughed, watching you playfully.

“Or were you just in need of better company?” He took another step closer, the fresh scent of him teasing your senses.

“A bit of both,” you joked, not backing down from your stance. He stepped forward one more time, stopping centimeters from you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, practically hear his heart beating within the confines of his chest. It was maddening.

“I’d prefer the latter,” he drawled, crashing his lips down on yours. You didn’t protest, eagerly returning the kiss. It was fast, the world spinning with each lick, stopping with each moan. He was alive beneath your movements, his body moving against your own. Lust was clouding your judgement, your body repeating “more” like a mantra. You were in hell and his kiss was your only salvation, his tongue your only savior. If his hot lips moving against yours, his tongue invading your mouth, was hell, you didn’t ever want to leave. 

You felt the entire world beneath his touch, your heart beating in time with each stroke of his tongue. And with a cold breeze, he was standing back, panting. You weren’t in much of a better state, licking your lips hungrily. You needed more. Cheekily, you took his hat off his head and placed it on your own, winking to him. Oh, this night was about to get a whole lot more interesting.


Desmond:

You couldn’t help but fear for Desmond, watching as he slept. He spent so much time in the animus that you knew it couldn’t be good for him. You hated every minute of it, watching petulantly as he entered the machine. You couldn’t protect him in the animus, couldn’t talk to him. It was like he was gone most of the time, leaving you with the rest of the group. If you had to hear one more of Shaun’s sassy ass responses, you groaned quietly, rubbing a temple. That man was going to put you into an early grave. Your own stresses were all but forgotten when Desmond’s body jerked in his sleep, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids.

“Des,” you whispered, shaking his sleeping form gently. When he didn’t wake, his movements becoming more erratic, you shook harder. “Desmond.” He was up in a flash, pinning you to the ground with a hand at your throat. You glared up at him, watching emotions flicker through his honey eyes. Finally, he calmed down, backing away from you with apologies. “Are you okay?” You asked, a hand reaching for him. He flinched, causing you to drop it back in defeat.

“Fine,” he muttered, wincing at how fake his voice sounded. You rolled your eyes, pulling the man into a rough hug.

“Honest to God, Desmond, you’re a terrible liar.” He chuckled despite his wary state, returning your affections stiffly. “You’re as stiff as a board.” He didn’t respond, his muscles relaxing under your touch. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied. You pulled back, watching him closely. If he was uncomfortable, you really didn’t want to push him. With a nod, you accepted his answer. Sighing to yourself, you moved to get up. However, Desmond was having none of that, pulling you back into his arms. You looked up to him wide eyed, not expecting such an action from the assassin. 

His lips dropped down to yours, barely brushing against your own soft lips. It was soft and sweet and not nearly enough. He stopped you when you tried to pull him down for another kiss, shaking his head against your insistence. He laid back down, tugging your body against his so your head rested on his chin. You sighed, not entirely sure if it was out of contentment or disappointment. Although, you couldn’t be too disappointed with Desmond’s actions. You were sure he’d be much more willing in the morning. You’d only just closed your eyes when Shaun’s voice called out, “Get a room!” Honestly, you were going to kill that man.

Sick of Losing Soulmates

“God knows where I would be if you hadn’t found me sitting all alone in the dark…”

bucky x reader

Warnings: mentions of ptsd, swearing, kissing. 

The day started off normally enough. Tony talked to you of his plans to expand the building, to which you happily agreed. It was definitely getting cramped in the area. 

Then, you trained with Natasha and Steve. Both of whom were happy to have a telepathic on the team. The only problem with your telepathy is that you couldn’t fight physically for shit, all your power went to your mind which is why you were happy to be trained by two of the strongest people in the Avengers. 

“You need to learn to take a hit every once in a while.” Natasha muttered, demonstrating a kick in Steve’s direction once again. 

“I can handle pain.” You defended, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting. 

It was then that Wanda walked in, lifting you from the ground and throwing you back down. A groan bubbled from your throat as you gripped your ribs. “No you can’t.” 

“I can handle a punch, not a force lifting me and throwing me down.” You muttered childishly as Steve helped you from the ground. “I think you’ve had enough for today.” 

You stuck your tongue out and everyone, lifting a towel from the rack and throwing a middle finger in the air. “Hey!” Steve yelled, pointing his finger at you disapprovingly. 

A laugh left your mouth as you walked out of the room. Your feet dragged you tiredly to the bathroom. You knocked just in case, noticing the light was off and opening the door. 

Just where the light had shone through the open door, you saw Bucky sat on the edge of the tub with his head in his hands. He was shirtless, his body covered in goosebumps but you could see sweat dripping from his forehead. 

“Buck?” You questioned, immediately concerned with what you had just found. His head raised, his eyes watering. 

“Oh, Bucky…” You shut the door behind you, encasing him in your arms as he sniffled quietly. 

Bucky was the first person you really became close to, he was there when no one else was. When you missed home, he happily distracted you. When you wanted to leave, when you felt you couldn’t take the stress anymore, he was there to talk you down. Bucky was your rock.

You were his as well, and you wished you didn’t have to be because he suffers more than anyone else. The vivid flashbacks, the nightmares, you couldn’t imagine going through what he had to but you were happy to make him happy again. Because, sometimes you just need the right person there. He was your person and you were his. 

His head was cradled on your chest as you lead him to the ground where you rested your back against the tub. You stroked his head to calm him, feeling his arms slowly wrap around your body. 

“Do you need to talk about it?” 

The first time you found him like this he didn’t say a word besides expressing how embarrassed he was that you found him like this. 

As time went on, it became easier and easier for him to talk to you. 

“I just… I keep hearing the words. Even if they’re not being said together. Earlier Bruce said Furnace and I almost- I almo-” Bucky’s words got caught in his throat, a sob falling out of his throat. 

“It’s okay Bucky, you don’t have to say it.” You comforted, rubbing his back. 

“You’re so good to me, (Y/N).” He whispered, his voice broken. 

You smiled sadly, worried for the shattered man in front of you. You wished you could take every ounce of pain from him and feel it yourself, just to understand. Just so he didn’t hurt. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go through this.” You voiced your thoughts, realizing he couldn’t read your mind. 

“All I need is you.” 

It took you a second to realize he hadn’t said that outloud. You felt your breath catch in your throat, suddenly aware of just how close you two were. 

“Bucky, I heard that.” You stated, completely still. 

Bucky didn’t seem to mind, still frowning sadly and staring forward, “You had to know at some point.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, completely captivated with where Bucky’s skin touched yours. You noticed the shocks, the feathery touches he gave your torso. The way your breathing synced together. 

“Bucky, I-” 

“Just, be quiet for a moment please. I need to prepare myself for whatever you’re going to say.” Bucky murmured, his cheek still pressed against your chest, slightly muffling his words. 

Prepare himself for what? 

“Bucky, please listen to me,” you whispered, “what do you mean ‘all you need is me’?” 

“You make me feel better. So much more than anyone else ever could.” He said, finally sitting up and looking at you face to face. “It’s just nice to know that you’ll be here for me when I really need it.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words, a sigh falling from your lips as you looked into his eyes. He bit his lip, sadness still strung over his features, “I completely understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just know that I had to tell you.” 

A hair lay across your face, causing him to reach forward and push it away, his hand still resting tenderly on your cheek. 

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and basking in his scent. “I feel the same way.” 

Bucky didn’t even have a second to process what you had said before you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his hard. 

He responded immediately, his hands on your hips while you straddled his thighs. You felt goosebumps rise to your skin while his hands rested just underneath the bottom of your shirt. 

It was in that moment that you knew just how much you were supposed to be with him. How much he meant to you, and how well you could see your future going. You loved him. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours while showing you a smile. “I’m glad you feel the same way, darlin’.” 

anonymous asked:

Got any headcanons about how the chocobros react to being proposed to?

Sure thing! (:

Noctis:

-When you take him on a quiet date somewhere sweet and romantic, nothing too fancy but intimate just the same, he won’t be suspecting a thing.

-At first this boy is just gonna be sHocked.

-You’re gonna panic because he’ll be too surprised to say anything when you initially pop the question. He’ll just stare at you, buffering wheel slowly turning over his head, before he stutters, “Of course,“ and lifts you into a wonderfully loving embrace. He’ll kiss you like his life depends on it as excitement and realization build in his chest.

-He’s going to want to get married as soon as possible, naturally. So just… be prepared. The next few weeks are gonna be a frenzy of event planning and hyping up for the big wedding. If you didn’t feel like royalty up until this point, you definitely will by the time it’s through. Talk about being an overnight celebrity.

Prompto:

-It doesn’t matter where you are or how you do it, this boy’s heart is gonna skip a beat. He won’t be able to believe his ears.

-”A-are you for real? Am I dreaming? Pinch me if I’m dreaming.” You pinch him, or punch him, or huff at him, either way promptisms aside, he says yes and nearly squeezes the breath out of you with a big hug.

-He’ll kiss you a thousand times. He won’t be able to stop talking about your future together and holding you close. And yes there will be tears.

-Expect tons of pictures. He’s gonna wanna remember every second of the day the love of his life proposed that they wanted to live out the rest of their days with him.

Gladio:

-If you’re taking him out to a nice fancy dinner to propose, expect him to get a hunch that something is up. Sure, he enjoys the lavishness of fine-dining every once in a while, but Gladdy is a provider, so he’ll usually insist on treating you.

-That being said, if you choose to take him on a romantic stroll somewhere beautiful and full of nature or make some unexpected grand gesture, he won’t suspect a thing.

-Either way, he’ll smile, lift your chin gently with his giant hand, and kiss you tenderly before saying yes. Soon his excitement will bubble over, though, and you’ll be swept off your feet in a great big bear hug.

-It doesn’t matter how big or far away the wedding is, the gesture meant more to him than you’ll ever know.

Ignis:

-That slight look of discomfort that dawns on him when you ask the big question isn’t because he’s in any way hesitant. It’s not! In fact, he had been planning to propose to you.

-Really, he’d all but picked out a ring, he just hadn’t had the time or opportunity to set out on executing the plans he’d made to make the night extraordinarily special.

-He’ll caress the curves of your face lovingly before saying with warm sincerity, ”My dear, marrying you would make me the happiest man on earth, “and pressing in for a deep and meaningful kiss.

-He’ll explain what his plans had been for his proposal to you, and even ask if you still want him to act upon them despite the surprise having been spoiled. He just wants to make you as happy as you made him. Either way you’ll both have a good laugh about it then and far into your future.

alrighty, so this is malachites room so far! i spliced together some steven universe backgrounds (none of which belong to me!!) and messed with them, added some props!

so essentially malachite lives in a giant greenhouse and collects plants form the missions the team goes on :) (with a specific section dedicated to the strawberries that grow on the old gem battlefield). this is only one section of the room and theres several little tables and benches and little statues scattered all over it~

they use to pools to store some things, but most of their bubbles just float freely, or chill in the gardens somewhere. malachite likes to keep the gems they bubble (most of which are the less dangerous creatures they encounter or the gems theyve come across that were hurt or damaged) floating around their room. some filter in through the water from labradorite’s room every once in a while as well. occasionally theyll feel hints of emotions from the bubbled gems, so mallo likes to talk to them often. they arent sure if the gem inside is conscious or can hear them, but they talk anyways~

bettycrockerssketchbook powerthepeaceful themintylion im not really sure where in the temple this room is located???? but its connected to labradorites somehow haha. below or above or next to idk

edit: lmao i forgot to mention those floating things are different flower pots they have floating around

The Bubble Theory

This is based off of a strange dream that I had over a year ago that recently has come to light after telling my best friend about the dream.
I had been having a reoccurring dream where I was running down a dark metal paneled hallway the never ended. Every once in a while there would be a crack with light that I would try to rip open and get out through but I couldn’t. The dream has always been scary since I would also always hear the dragging of a metal object on the rest of the metal. The sound would always get louder and louder and turn into a smashing sound of metal against metal. The dream would end when the noise was right behind me and the metal on metal sound became metal on skull.
This reoccurring dream had come to me again last year but it became oddly different. I was doing the same things but this time I was able to pull a panel off and get out. When I had gotten out I was floating in a bubble that was almost a mint green color and all I could see was darkness. I could hear voices like someone was calling out or just speaking to keep themselves at bay. I continuously pushed the bubble toward the voices until I had come across another bubble, the person looked at me and connected the bubbles. I couldn’t tell who the person was or if I even knew them but once the bubbles were connected he said “don’t worry this is just a dream, we are sharing a dream” I was stunned and I didn’t believe him so I asked him to prove it. He created another bubble that contained a small bird in it, and he said “we can make it disappear as well” and he made it disappear. I asked him “if this is really a dream than how come I can’t do this?” And he said “you can look behind you” and directly behind me was another bubble this time with my mother in it, when I turned back to him he said “we are sharing a dream!” This time sounding excited.
I had woken up just believing that it was a creepy dream until later that day.
Later I had been waiting for the bus and I had seen that same guy and we had both given each other a look of confusion but acknowledgment and it wasn’t until I had gotten off the bus that we had realized we had seen each other and met in the dream. It was confusing and frightening especially after having the reoccurring dream become a bridge into another persons mind.
The bubble theory now is the theory that you can bridge yourself into other people’s dreams. The fact that you are asleep gives you the path to bridging into your own bubble as well as other people’s bubbles. If there is such a thing as fate or destiny reoccurring dreams and the bubbles may be the way of finding someone you can and might meet in your future.

corgiboard  asked:

tenmiko (SFW) 2, 7, 11, 12, 13

(SFW) 

2. Who’s the messiest? The cleanest?
Somehow, Tenko is the messiest, and Himiko is the cleanest. Tenko’s probably just prone to making more of a mess because she keeps accidentally knocking shit over and things are breaking and it’s a mess.

7. Would they go to the beach?
Yes! Every once in a while, yes. They wind up building sandcastles together and typically they spend an entire day if they do wind up going, so it always ends with an ice cream date watching the sun set.

11. Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?
I mean, they take both, but they’re definitely prone to taking baths together more often. I think Himiko definitely prefers baths, but Tenko really doesn’t give two shits as long as she’s clean and also with Himiko. They add bubbles sometimes and Himiko winds up sort of playing around with them and maybe Tenko puts a hand full of them on Himiko’s head and is like ‘It’s like a Hat’

12. Can they stand silence? Who talks the most? Who talks the least?
Himiko can stand the silence. Tenko probably can’t, at least not as much. Tenko winds up just going off and talking and talking while Himiko sits there and listens, leaning against her. Tenko probably checks every now and then to make sure that she hasn’t passed out.

13.) Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?
Tenko stays up later than Himiko sometimes, and Himiko definitely sleeps the most. While Himiko doesn’t necessarily force Tenko to sleep, there are times where she clings onto her just a bit more than usual to get her to relax more. Tenko often has to shake Himiko awake.

2

The Cog Warband Breakfast Kebab (COG)

For a bunch of beat up and misfit scrappers, the Cog Warband seems to do alright for themselves. If you need them, just poke around Nolan in the Diessa Plateau for a little while and one of them is bound to turn up to chase you off before you stumble across their ‘secret’ strawberry patch. But you didn’t hear about it from me if they ask!

- MJ & K

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Confessions Part III

Prompt: Reader and Dean are living the apple pie life and have big plans for the future. That is until Dean comes home one night, and confesses something the reader never thought she would ever hear.

Character: Dean x Reader
Reader Gender: female
Word Count: 2.2k and some change
Warnings: Language, AAAANGST (so many feels), mention of smut, mention of alcohol use.

Part I  // Part II

A/N: A BIG thanks to my sweet @jensennjared for being a kickass beta! All I can say about this part, is that I’m really sorry.

Tags: @bovaria @aprofoundbondwithdean @winchesterenthusiast @balthazars-muse @pada-ackles @babygirljadewinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanscherrypie @kayteonline @winchesterwhisper @jxackles @fandommaniacx

(x)

Keep reading

Hope Among the Roses

Pairing: Captain Swan

Rating: G

Genre:  Canon divergence–5a

(Tagging a few who might be interested:@annaamell @flslp87 @doracianstormerose @sailormew4 @myst-l-vie @mermaidswans @bethacaciakay @effulgentcolors @ilovemesomekillianjones @tnlph @kat2609 @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @laschatzi @snowbellewells @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @captainscolts @holmes-a-holic @kmomof4)

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

A/N: This is the next in my new Fluffy Fridays reruns series.  I realized several of these one or two shots might have fallen through the cracks as they hid within the (now massive) fluffy anthology that is known as Fluffy Fridays. As I don’t really have time to write new stuff now, I thought I’d pass the time in December (and the very end of November) by pulling out my favorite FF installments and posting them in their own right.  Hope you enjoy the “rerun”!

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian took Emma’s hand and led her from the lively great hall into the secluded, shadowed stairwell.  As soon as they’d disappeared from the curious eyes of the Camelot court…not to mention Emma’s family and friends…he took her into his arms and kissed her as though his very life depended on it.  She responded immediately, her arms coming around him, her lips, against his, turning up in a smile, a small sound of contentment in the back of her throat.

Killian kept the kiss gentle, tender, needing to show her just how much he loved her; reveling in the fact that they were together; that she was here in his arms.

Keep reading

Defiance - Finale (Sam x reader)

Finale Summary: Sam waits for you to wake up from surgery.

A/N: I am so sorry this is so late! And this story is now, finally, on my Masterlist

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6

Word count: 1131


It’d been hours since Sam had last seen you. But in a way he was grateful.
He didn’t want to watch as you struggled to breathe while your blood bubbled up your throat and dripped down your chin. Alone, the image of you suffocating on your own blood was enough to make his stomach churn.

Dean sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair as Sam paced on the linoleum floor in front of him.

   “Sam, will you just relax?”

   “No, Dean,” Sam continued to pace, eyes flicking up every once in a while. Dean sat in the chair sipping stale coffee until Sam checked his watch three times in the same minute

   “Dude, cut it out, you’re giving me whiplash,“ Dean ran a hand over his face for the millionth time and stretched his neck out, hearing a satisfying crack.

   “…you and I both know she’s had a lot worse.” 

Keep reading

I KNOW PLACES - CHAPTER 17

Chapters 1 - 16

+ + + + + + + + +

“Jennifer!” My mother screeches with a laugh, swatting my hand away, as I steal another cookie from the cooling tray.  "They’ll be none left for the boys tomorrow if you eat them all now!“

"I’m sorry,” I spurt out, sending a few crumbs flying from my full mouth.  Gooey chocolate sticks to my hands and I lick up every last morsel, moaning at the sweet taste lingering on my tongue.  "You make the best desserts, Mama.“  My southern twang peeking out from hiding, as a satisfied grin overtakes my face.

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A Collection of Prose

A collection of prose

.Noelle Anne Lenz

10/31 on death

i don’t believe in death.

or heaven, or hell, or purgatory, whatever.

absurdity though…

there’s a concept!

perhaps i should clarify.

in a biological sense, purely scientific and emprical,

the vessel which carries our souls is perfectly susceptible

to total, complete. fucking. failure.

a medical miracle?

an anatomical phenomenon?

…kept alive by drugs

and wires and oxygen.

this isn’t what matters

and neither does where that thing ends up

it’s where your soul goes

that i really wanna know about.

that is what i am concerned with.

a soul, a spirit, a light, it exists in all living things:

your mother, father, pet hamster,

your best friends and your enemies,

your world, this world, it all amounts to

a constant amount of energy,

completely and totally fucking unchanging.

we may lose the tissue the bones and the blood

but you cannot dispose of something so

full of life.

each exist must be so violent-

a soul screaming through this dimension,

and onto the next.

like an adventure.

we can’t see them though, not always.

perhaps you’ll catch a glimpse of

a loved one you thought lost

to some heaven or hell,

but you saw them

in a dream, or a de ja vou moment.

this is because they still exist.

they have just moved on,

and i hope and some pray to a god that isn’t listening-

that they went to a more forgiving place.

just another journey,

like an adventure.

i don’t believe in death.

running shoes

i live in this crazy little college town.

it’s right on the coast, the beaches

that run alongside the california-ocean border.

the rumors, myths, gossip

that you’ve heard about this state,

they probably have all come true

at least in this little one-square-mile

bubble of a place.

here i usually  just have my

pizzas and cigarettes and burritos

delivered to me,

because i don’t want to deal with the mess.

but every once and a while, i have to get out

and stretch my legs.

i’m armed with an old leather jacket,

fingerless gloves, headphones and…

most importantly,

my chuck taylor’s.

shoes i can run in.

im constantly looking over my shoulder,

for the next wolf-in-college-kids-clothing

waiting to pounce on all ninety-seven pounds of me.

at least i know that i can outrun them.

if it came down to it, anyway.

there are a lot of wolves out here at night,

during the day you wouldn’t have to worry.

but trust me, thursday through monday

as soon as the sun dips down below the ocean’s horizon

the mosnters all come out.

in a place where blacking out, injuring oneself,

or another…

puking, waking up in jail, the hospital,

or dying…

is just considered a right of passage,

so from now on

always wear your running shoes when you leave the house.

chicken noise

i like to sit in class.

in total silence, the five or ten minutes

right before lecture starts.

there are so many different voices,

noises, stories, weekends and complaints.

like a million different television programs

carelessly, and incomprehensibly aired,

no splattered.

no together in a pattern that’s more like

white noise

all around me, and i don’t make a sound.

it’s kind of nice to be in the middle of all this babble

and chaos, dissent, entropy,

and still be able to think crystal-clear

and with total salience.

i guess that’s one of the perks

that come along with living

inside your head.

fifty percent of the time, anyway.

when i’m not completely and utterly fucking

over-analyzing every situation i find myself in.

it’s a daily reminder,

sitting in that seat.

i am just another cluster of atoms,

zipping around and moving at high speeds,

a little ball of thermal energy…

particules of heat lost at every instant

in a world where there is no such thing

as a perfect exchange

of energy.

on dreams

every night once i slip into the unconscious,

brilliant and vibrant dreams consume me.

i venture through the forests and skies of thoughts

and my hands are small, like a childs.

that fatigue of growing up has been replaced with

the magic that at one time ruled my whole universe.

there are no boundaries, the lines between reality and fantasy

have been driven away by a false sense of

security.

as i sleep peacefully…

i don’t know if these dreams mean much,

or anything at all.

but when you’re wishing on stars

for saveiors they serve as a fallacious and temporary

ESCAPE.

all the love lost, blood spilled, tears fallen,

they are just fictitcious reminders of planet earth.

population 6.972 billion. a million more light years away,

than that silly little figure.

your soul is free to soar through the clouds high above,

dive deep into the ocean’s blue abyss,

crash into deep and dark canyons-

and rise again.

chariots can carry you into a distant, exotic place,

where you can ride an elephant through the savannah desert.

hitch a ride with an albatross, fuck it.

swing from tree to tree with a sloth and sit next to a monkey

…who can talk.

the things in life that made you feel hopeless before,

helpless,

i can burn them all down.

and in their place i’ll build

beautiful castles made of crystals

and we’ll stay in this place together,

fall in love and get old.

maybe we’ll have a few kids

or not.

we live alone and away from the calamity in a country that’s our own.

free of politics and religion and bullshit.

we are religion.

the entropy of the real world

it can’t touch us, and we die happy.

………….then you wake up

in this room with white walls

decorated with shit that doesn’t mean much

at all.

guide me back into my dreams,

please.

i can’t help but let these tears stream down my face.

it wasn’t real none of it was and it was just a dream.

and this is the cycle of things

every morning and every night

i escape to another universe and

play chess with the unicorns while a goddess

serves me tea.

i carry this throughout the day,

go home, and do the same thing,

wake up the same way

this same state.

and you wonder why,

i sleep so much.

this CDISONREPEAT

she’s drunk again.

off at least 2 bottles of cheap pink wine

reaching from the bed for a cigarette,

that’s already out.

she says i’m not that drunk.

but she also says, i  know i have a problem.

something all the counselors,

rehab people,

psychiatrists,

psychologists,

those… experts?

not the first, or second, or the third time

“it’s just all the little things”

…this isn’t me.

but right now it is

and your a fucking mess.

you don’t remember what happened the night before,

the stranger in your bed,

the cab ride home,

the argument with your best friend,

or choking me out…

the total and complete lack of money in your bank account,

you are fucked up, my friend.

if only you were brave enough to admit it.

all i hear, is JUST ONE GLASS. just ONE.

one shot

one beer

one serving plus old excuses

of old reasons why your so fucked up

we need to bury tha past.

incincerate the remains,

encapsulate the ashes in a box.

dig into the earth as deep as humanly possible…

and leave them there.

because the past is no longer an excuse

for us to be fucked up.

lighting your cigarette backwards

it used to be, i was the one everyone was so concerned with.

they all thought that the day would come,

and on the cell phone there would be twenty-three missed calls

from a hospital, or a friend, a family member, my roommate…

it’s a word no one wants to say.

suicide.

she’s dead and gone, soon she’ll be

decomposing with teh rest of the earthly bodies

decaying in that graveyard.

and the mistakes she made, she buried herself

inside of them.

instead of burying

the past.

i don’t blame them for being so sad, concerned, so scared, anxious..

cause i’ve got the hospital bills, the psychiatric holds…

unsightly scars

to show for it.

but that’s not this situation.

and it’s certainly not

salvation.

wasn’t that what i was looking for all along?

when you already feel like a failure,

a hopeless bag of bones…

you wake up under energy efficient lights, take a deep breath, no,

gasp

for air.

you come to. realize your surrounded by loved ones. all of them.

their faces are lined with worry

and you’re responsible for the premature grey hairs.

no one knows what to say at this point-

there’s no point.

you’ve failed, on top of feeling like failing

in the first place.

but, maybe salvation, the same salvation you sought

has been found.

you’re alive, and YOU CAN FEEL IT

the pain, the frustration, teen angst…

you’re alive.

no matter what they say you are

still an artifact, constant energy,

when you’ve been there, done that,

known what it’s like to spend those seventy-two awful hours with the crazy people

the catatonic, psychotic, manic..

an appreciation stems from the solace

a simple room of your own can provide

…with no every-fifteen-minute bed checks

they should reall call them

“did you try to off yourself again” checks

cause that what they are…

but let’s get back on track.

i’m not the center of pity attention anymore.

been there, done that.

i’ve learned to either be alive and deal

or fucking duck out like a coward.

this other person is in that same place i was,

and i don’t know how to deal with it.

snorting your future up your nose

drinking yourself to sleep

walking home alone

injuries and comas

you might as well tie your own noose.

i tried, im tired, i know.

but i can’t extract this empathy now

i can’t do the work for free.

because it will take so much more to fix you

than it did me.

maybe i wasn’t as fucked up as i thought.

when something terrible happens to us,

it’s an innate human tendency to

be filled with dread.

but really, in comparison with some other things..

it’s not that bad. nothing is ever that bad.

when you’re able to look at it frmo a

bigger perspective.

take a step back

and realize

things could always be terribly,

horrifically,

abundantly

worse.

monster

you’re so toxic, your words drip with apathy

and now you’ve finally driven me clinically,

or perhaps completely

insane.

and now they’re telling me i can’t leave,

not for at least seventy-two hours…

or when the doctors, the experts, say that

i won’t hurt myself. or someone else.

i think your the one who should be here.

i want you to feel what it’s like to

crumple like the twin towers

fall to the ground

in a blaze of glory

and as your arm bleeds out,

all over the perfect tile,

i suspect you’d only be concerned…

with how much it would be to replace.

i take this as no surprise. i knew you’d always

leave again.

you left once, you left twice, i forget now

because the drugs i’ve used to numb your

absence and abrasiveness

have probably affected my memory…

or perhaps it’s an evolutionary mechanism,

repressing things.

you put me through hell

and i can safely say to anyone who says

“this is gonna be pretty tough”

“don’t worry…i’ll get through it.”

you’ve always been evil. the story is over,

there was a climax, an ending,

but the beginning is, and always has been

missing.

my heart was broken long before i knew it

even existed…

that night in the closet, please close my eyes..

send the albatross, i need to be in jupiter by 9AM

but instead i’ll crawl outside on my knees,

the carpet left marks

and it’s dark, all over.

you put me in there. and for hours i stayed,

i was onl y a child, and the coat had fallen off

of the hanger.

and i’m not sorry, i never was.

i could say i hate you, and i always will.

but really, i feel sorry for you…

a god fearing catholic.

if your convictions are correct,

your going straight to hell.

i don’t believe in that sort of thing,

but if there were any reason for me to start,

it would be that you find yourself crawling out of a closet

as a terrified nine year old

afraid of a six foot something monster,

only this time it would be the devil.

creeping anxiously in the shadows,

inevitably heading towards that same terror

that through you into that space

in the first place.

11-16-1988

i hate my birthday.

it seems like every year it’s just another day, a dot

on the spectrum of things…

that throw me for a loop.

and to feel like shit.

i think it all comes from the little kid birthday complex.

that one special day, cause that’s the day you were brought into this world,

screaming at the cold artificial lights.

everyone is supposd to be nice to you and

make you feel

special.

but after a while, once you’ve grown up

it’s kind of inappropriate to send out colorful invitations with confetti

to all your friends,

they all live so far away.

imagine the postage.

or the detective work.

it would also be inappropriate to hire a clown,

or an inflatable jumpy castle.

might as well add yourself to meganslaw.com.

or maybe not, if no one showed up anyway.

i’ll go to the grocery store.

alone.

like every year before this one, i’ll make dinner- my favorite!

risotto.

alone.

i’ll clean the dishes, hav ea few beers…

take two xanax.

and fall asleep.

alone.

i hate my fucking birthday.


****ALL WRITING IS OWNED BY NOELLE ANNE LENZ AND PLAGIARISM WILL RESULT IN PROSECUTION***

5SOS Preference: Friends With Benefits (Part 2) (Muke)

Part 1

Michael:

They lay in silence, neither of them making a move. Usually one of them got up to leave, it was only every now and then that they’d actually sleep over at each other’s house. Now seemed to be one of those times, because Michael wasn’t making a move to get out of her bed.

The two of them never cuddled. They used to, back when they were just friends, no benefits involved. But now, it was like if either of them even came close to that kind of affection it meant that they wanted more. Which both of them really wanted, but it’s not like either of them were going to pursue a relationship with the other. They were both to stubborn to realize what was really going on between them.

Michael’s arm brushed against hers as he stirred, getting comfortable. Some sort of familiarity swept over her and it was nice. Not really thinking about what she was doing, she rolled over so that her body was halfway on Michael’s and her hand cradled his face while her lips found his. He didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her and kiss back softly. It was a nice kiss. It was passionate but not to needy. It was unlike any other kiss she and Michael have ever shared. She broke away from the kiss and laid her head on his chest. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as the wall that held all of her emotions started crumbling.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly. She squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t say anything, afraid that her voice would break if she tried. “I love you.” A tear finally fell as the three words she’d been dying to hear tumbled from his lips effortlessly. She smiled softly, breathing out the quietest “I love you” possible. But she knew he heard it from the way his chest fell as he let out a big breath and his lips grazed the top of her head, leaving a sweet kiss.

Luke:

She came through the door with a frown and marched right into Luke’s living room, startling him slightly. He watched as she walked over, dropping her bag and throwing her phone on the coffee table before straddling him right where he sat. His hands found her hips out of instinct and hers rested against his chest. She took a deep breath with a look of confusion on her face. He was about to ask her what had happened, but before he could even open his mouth she was kissing him fiercely with her hands pulling him closer by his t-shirt.

In no time they were slinging clothes off left and right and leaving marks all over each others bodies. After a few rounds of intense, stress relieving pleasure they both fell asleep, still tangled together on his couch. She woke up to the feeling of something vibrating against her back. She reached underneath herself to pull out Luke’s phone, seeing that Calum had been texting him. She looked at Luke for a bit, just taking in his handsome features before waking him to let him know his bandmate was trying to contact him. She pulled on her clothes and walked to the bathroom to try and make herself look half decent.

When she returned to the couch Luke wasn’t there but his phone was still on the couch, opened to the messages from Calum. She tried her best not to be nosy but it was just so tempting. She leaned over and glanced at the messages, eyes widening when she noticed that her name was present in one of Luke’s texts.

Cal: “where the hell are you? You were supposed to meet us 20 minutes ago!”

Luke: “sorry bro, Y/N came over. It happened again and I’m not really sure what to do”

Why would he tell the boys about them?! This was supposed to be a secret, only between them. Instead of being mad, though, she was just confused about Luke saying he wasn’t sure what to do. The little bubble popped up, meaning Calum was typing something. It felt like forever before the text finally popped up.

Cal: “Just tell her you like her. Tell her you want more than just these stupid little hookups every once in a while”

Luke’s footsteps were heard down the hall as he came from what sounded like his bedroom. “Hey, Y/N, you wanna go to Michael’s with me? The guys are just hanging out over there.” He asked stepping into the room. She stalked over to him and leaned up, pressing her lips to his sweetly before giving him a wide grin. “Only if you take me on a real date after.”

• • • • • • •

I always fuck up part 2s. That’s why I never write them.😞

-Megan

It Started With a Follow *Luke Hemmings One Shot*

WORD COUNT: 4,268

My phone sat in my back pocket while I chatted with some friends during lunch. It was a few days until the last day of school. We would be graduating in a matter of days and I was excited. There was a loud ping from my pocket and I jumped slightly not realizing my ringer had been on all day.
“You better turn that off,” my friend says from the other side of the table. I give her my signature, ‘no shit,’ look and pull it out of my pocket. It’s a notification from twitter, probably just some random from school following me because we go to the same school. I turned the ringer off and clicked the little note. I’m alerted to seven new followers and at quick glance I see that I was right, random people from school. One image catches my eye however and I can’t help but feel my heart beat quicken. The icon is familiar and when I look at the name on the list of followers I’m convinced it has to be some sort of joke.
I clicked on the picture of the blond boy with amazing blue eyes and his profile pops up little blue and white check and all. I start to shake slightly looking up at my friends in disbelief was I dreaming. I had to be Luke Hemmings didn’t really follow me. “What?” my friends start to ask repeatedly, while I sit there like a fish out of water my mouth opening and closing rapidly as I try and think of what to say. I’m in complete shock and I don’t know how to get out of it. Part of me wants to run around screaming and jumping, hell I would even break out into song if I wouldn’t get in trouble.
“He followed me!!” I shout once I’m recovered enough to speak.
“Who?” they ask.
“Lucas fucking Hemmings that’s who!” I answer back still bubbling with excitement. I start bouncing in my seat and the girls look at me like I’ve gone bonkers. They roll their eyes not understanding why I care so much. They like 5SOS but they don’t love them, they don’t fawn over their every move and they don’t twitter stalk them hoping for a follow from at least one of them. They start to laugh while I ramble on in a fangirling frenzy.
“Why don’t you dm him can’t you do that now since he follows you back?” (Y/F/N) asks turning to me. I freeze I can do that now, I start typing away on my phone avidly hoping he reads the message, “I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckles.
I spend the next ten minutes of lunch typing away and erasing because I don’t want to sound crazy-stalker-fan-ish. I finally decide on a simple, “Thanks for the follow, I love 5SOS you are amazing,” I slip my phone into my pocket knowing he wont message back that fast.
The rest of the day I’m beaming from the excitement of him actually following me. When I got home later that day I checked my phone seeing if I had a reply. I hadn’t actually expected to have a reply so when I clicked my DMs and there was nothing I just threw my phone down on the counter and searched for something to eat. With a snack in hand I couldn’t help but find myself drumming my fingers against the counter my eyes trained on the phone on the counter. I was nervous what if he did reply would I know what to say. I didn’t want to waist this opportunity I mean how often do you get the chance to actually talk to a celebrity you admire and love.
I sighed to myself loudly and tossed my trash. I picked up my phone and let it fall into my pocket. I threw myself on the living room couch and watched something trying to get my mind off the potential conversations we could have. I lost myself in a movie and completely forgot my phone was even in my pocket. I felt the vibration and pulled it out thinking it was a text or maybe my mom calling to tell me she was bringing something to eat.
My heart pounded as I realized it was a DM alert. He had actually messaged me back. I clicked the notification with shaky hands and then my eyes scanned over his message. “Anything, for a beautiful girl like you,” there was even a winky face with the nose and all. Was Luke Hemmings really sending me a flirty DM. I seriously thought I had died and gone to heaven, or I was asleep living a cruel, cruel dream.
I had one chance I had to flirt back and quick because he might still be on. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls Mr. Hemmings,” I said using the same face he did. My heart pounded and I prayed he would reply soon.
I locked my phone because I couldn’t bare to stare down at the messages waiting for his reply. A minute later my phone buzzed indicating that he had messaged back. I was still a shaky fangirling mess but he didn’t need to know that. “But if I did I’m sure you would see the screen shots some where,” he had a point girls screen shot their DMs for less than this.
“Well then don’t I feel special,” I replied smiling like a crazy person.
“You are,” he had replied faster than before. I found myself messaging him for almost two hours, I wasn’t even sure if I knew where they were at the moment so it could be the middle of the after noon, midnight, or any other time wherever he was. I got my answer a little later when he told me that he was heading to bed but that he really wanted to talk again and that he would message me again tomorrow. I had told him good night and then laid there going over our conversation again. At some point it had started to get slightly sexual which I hadn’t expected because it’s Luke but I didn’t care either damn he was hot. I’m pretty sure what we were saying was borderline sexting. I think I would have to leave that part out when I talked to my friends about this.
The next day he had messaged me as he said he would but I was in the middle of class when I got his message. With out the teacher knowing I had managed to text him the whole class period. We talked about tour and everything and how it was to travel. At one point I was feeling brave, “It must suck being a teen age boy and being surrounded by all those girls, nothing you can really do about it.” He had told me how he didn’t get to talk to many girls and hadn’t actually been with a girl in any way for a while now.
“Yeah sometimes my hand isn’t enough,” he replied. I felt a blush hit my cheeks was this really turning into some kind of sexting? Was I really sexting Luke Hemmings? Was I really sexting in class with Luke Hemmings?
“Maybe, you just need a little more motivation,” yep I was.
“Are you offering?” he was being cheeky I’m sure if I was there with him I would see the smirk on his face.
“Maybe after school,” I sent him my now signature winky face. I’m pretty sure if we had this conversation face to face and with all the winks it would look like we had an eye twitch. He apologized for me being in school and asked if we could talk later. I assured him that we could talk now but he told me I should focus on school. I couldn’t help but shake my head at him but I told him I would talk to him later.
The rest of the day I couldn’t stop thinking about what we talked about. Could I really help him with his… um… issue. It’s Luke Hemmings, and while I may not have much experience in this area I’m not an innocent little girl either. I found myself searching through smut tags on Tumblr thinking about what it would be like to be the reason he comes. To know that I got him so riled up and he had to release and then was a panting most likely flustered mess.
By the time I got home I was rather horny myself. So many look alike gifs and so many detailed stories. I needed him even if it was only in text. I sent him a message, “How about we pick up where we left off?”
He messaged back a few minutes later, “I’ve got a few minutes,” complete with winky face and all.
“Good, because I’ve been thinking about you all day, you wouldn’t believe the things that some fans write,” I replied.
“Trust me I’ve seen it, they have high hopes.”
“So you see my dilemma,” I replied quickly.
“So it‘s your hands that need the motivation now I see,” he was teasing.
“Don’t tease me damn it.”
“Feisty.”
I decided to turn the conversation myself, “The last one I read said you’re pretty talented with your mouth.”
“Did it now, what did it say exactly?”
“Well, first you teased the crap out of her then you took her on the kitchen counter.”
“Sounds about right, I can be a tease,” he replied. I knew it, I knew he was like that.
“I totally called it,” I replied smirking.
“So if you called that then you had to of known that while I love to tease I am also a giver, I always make sure the girl is pleasured.”
“Of course, how else would want to return the favor,” I replied.
“So after, I’ve done my beast to please you, ran my hands all over that body, thrust deep into you with my long fingers, ate you out right making you come several times in a row, after I teased you relentlessly how would you repay me?”
“Well the obvious of course. I’d have to use my hands make sure then, of course I’d have to use my mouth, I’d probably try to fit it wall but I’m sure I couldn’t to I’d end up needing my hands still,” my heart was racing and I could feel the arousal building damn if I wasn’t horny before I sure as hell was now. “I would definitely have to keep eye contact with you because I would just love seeing how you’re head lulled back and your eyes would shut tight.”
“Fuck, I wish I had more time to talk to you, but I have to go, but we will continue this later,” he replied. Damn it, just when it was getting good.
“Fine, I guess I’ll let you go,” I replied using a winky face. He sent back a smiley face and I threw my phone to the side.
After the first time it started happening more and more. I don’t think there was really a time when we weren’t being at least slightly sexual. We were constantly talking and he was becoming something more than this guy in a band I loved. He was closer to a fuck buddy if anything and we have never actually done anything.
“So we have a show coming up near you,” he had said one day.
“Don’t remind me, tickets sold out so fast I couldn’t get any,” I replied sullenly.
“Well I can’t get you tickets, or I would but I was hoping that we could meet up or something, we are going to be staying over night in a hotel. I would love to meet you in person.”
He just asked me to meet up with him. I really wanted to say yes but I wasn’t sure if I should. I mean I know who he is, it’s not like he’s going to turn out to be some forty year old man or something, but did I really want to do this. I did, “Where are you staying?” he gave me the address and told me to tell the front desk my name and that I was there to see him. He said he would arrange it with them ahead of time and that they should give me the room number and I would be able to meet him upstairs. We talked for a while after that ending things the same way we always did, both of us mildly satisfied and tired.
I counted down the days and didn’t tell anyone about it accept for, (Y/F/N) because I needed her to be my alibi for the night. I didn’t tell her about what we talked about I just told her that we had been talking and he wanted to meet up, I also didn’t bother telling her that I was going to his hotel because that would of just resulted in a lecture about safe sex. She was like a mom sometimes but I knew she would cover for me.
The night of their show he messaged me to tell me what time I should go to the hotel and what time they should be back. He told me to just wait in his room for him so that’s what I did. He never fully said what this was about but I knew it. I’m sure part of him did want to meet me because he liked me but I know another part of him was expecting a hook up but I didn’t really care.
I got to the hotel around the time when he told me to and I checked in with the front desk. They gave me a room key and I found myself in an empty hotel room waiting for a guy who a few months ago was just a picture on a screen and a voice in my speakers. I couldn’t believe I was going through with this but this has been a secret fantasy of mine for a while now.
There was a noise from the door a little later and Luke stepped in his back to me. He was talking to someone in the hallway and I guessed that it was one of the other boys if not all three. He told them good night and then shut the door before turning around. His eyes locked with mine and his face softened. He gave me a smile and stepped closer to me, “You came,” he said stepping closer again his arms out for a hug.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I questioned hugging him.
“I was afraid you would back out,” he said his face not too far from mine. I could feel his breath on my lips and my eyes traveled up his face from his lips to his eyes. He leaned in slowly and his lips met mine softly. He was hesitant I could tell, something told me he hadn’t done this before and that made me feel better at least I would know I wasn’t just part of some list. His kiss became more confident when I kissed back and my arms found their way around his neck. I pulled him close to me pressing my body against his. He was still slightly sweaty from the show but I couldn’t bring myself to care really. He was here in front of me for real. This wasn’t a dream this wasn’t a fantasy, and this wasn’t text on a screen. His hands slipped under my shirt and he trailed a hand up slowly. His finger tips brushed the bottom of my bra and went back down. He wasn’t trying to rush me.
He started to walk me backwards to the bed and I felt him lift me up before he placed me down on the fluffy blanket. He hovered over me and his lips left mine. They found my neck and he kissed all over it sucking on a few parts. My breathing was slightly labored and my head was spinning a little. My hands roamed his body pushing his shirt up so I could feel his bare chest and back. He slipped it over his head, his lips coming back to mine once he got it off. I could feel the pressure from his lip ring as he kissed my lips. His tongue came out and pressed against my lips waiting for entrance. I parted my lips slowly and let him take the lead. His hand found the back of my head and he pressed my face closer to his the kiss full of heat. I could feel my body start to burn with desire waiting for him to do something more.
His hands finally found the end of my shirt and he pulled it over my head. His lips kissed down my neck again and down between my breasts. He got to the top of my jeans and then looked back up to admire the sight in front of him. He gave me a light smirk and his fingers popped the button on my jeans. He slipped them off of me and let them fall over the side of the bed.
“Just like we talked about,” he said referring I was guessing to the first time we talked sexually. His fingers looped into the sides of my panties slipping them off letting them lad with my jeans. I had squeezed my legs together now feeling slightly exposed. He pulled my legs apart and smiled up at me. His hands ran down the insides of my thighs parting my legs further. His fingers came down on my clit his thumb rubbing slow circles.
My head fell back and I couldn’t help but let out a low moan. His other hand came up to my entrance and with two of his fingers he rubbed my center. I could feel the increasing wetness move onto his fingers as he played with me, “So, wet,” he spoke his voice low and raspy from the show. Slowly I felt a pressure at my center and I knew that he was letting his fingers slide into me. My head fell back and a whimper left my lips as I felt myself stretch.
He worked his fingers deep into me like he said he would. He curled them slowly hitting my g-spot every time. I gripped the sheets as I felt myself getting close. My legs were almost shaking as the pleasure took over. His fingers sped up relentlessly not stopping even after I was finished. I was a panting mess trying to get words out, “Oh, shit Luke, I-I need you to st-stop,” I managed out. It felt so good it hurt and I didn’t think I could take it again, and that was only the first.
“I know you can take it come on, one more,” he spoke not stopping his movements. I felt his lips inches from my clit that he had thankfully stopped rubbing. His tongue swiped over the sensitive nerve bundle and my back came off the bed as a shot of pleasure went though me. His lips and tongue worked my clit while his fingers assaulted my g-spot. I could feel it building and it felt so good but it felt like it was too much. I truthfully didn’t think I would come. I didn’t think it was possible it felt like I had hit a wall and it wasn’t going to come.
He sped up again and then slowed down and he did this over and over. I could feel the edge right there and I still wasn’t sure if I was going to come. My legs started to quake and my breathing was hard. Then it all came down. My eye lids flashed white and a gasp fell from my lips. My legs shook and my center contracted around his fingers tightly. “Holly, Fuck, Luke,” I moaned a light giggle slipping past my lips as I couldn’t believe how good it had felt. His fingers slipped out but he didn’t move from his spot. He tilted his head up to look at me smirking before he slipped his fingers past his lips tasting me for the first time.
“Hmm, Sweet,” he spoke smirking. He lowered his mouth and I wanted to stop him but the look in his eyes told me I wouldn’t be able to. His tongue swiped against my overly wet center and my head fell back again. Fuck, this wasn’t going to stop, but I wasn’t sure I wanted it to.
His tongue worked against my center slipping past my folds hitting some of the spots I didn’t know would feel good. I hadn’t really had this done to me before, the one time it did happen it didn’t really feel good, I don’t even think I came, but this, this definitely felt good. This felt amazing. I could feel his lips and his lips ring as he sucked on my clit. This time I could feel my orgasm coming fast. It wasn’t the same long build as the second one but it was still amazing. My stomach tightened and I was no where near quiet. It crossed my mind for a second that what if one of the boys heard us. Did he tell them he was having a girl over.
I was pulled from the thought by his tongue slipping deeper into me and my legs tightening around his head. I forced them apart not wanting to hurt him. My hand found his hair running through it messing it up for sure. My hips came off the bed grinding my center against his tongue. The tightening ball in my stomach released and my body shook, “Oh fuck,” I moaned trying to pull him off of me not wanting him to continue. It felt amazing but I wanted him now.
He pulled back smirking at me. His lips were shiny with my release and he swiped his tongue against them. I pulled him to me kissing him deeply tasting myself on his tongue. I let my hand wander down and pulled his pants open. He took them off and threw them to the side. I unhooked my bra and he threw his boxers with the rest of the clothes. He picked something up off the bed and tore it open. He pulled the condom out of the package and I watched him slide it down his length moaning at the contact. He leaned back over to me and kissed me.
Like before I could feel the pressure of him against my center and he entered me slowly. I gripped him tight one hand in his hair the other digging into his back. He worked his hips slowly his head falling to the crook of my neck his moans causing his breath to fan over my heated skin tickling it slightly. His pace quickened and I could feel him insanely deep. His hips ground into mine and I rocked mine up to meet his, “Oh shit, keep doing that,” he moaned thrusting into me hard.
He was falling out of rhythm and I don’t now if it was because he was close or just because it felt good. I pushed him slightly and rolled us over so I could be on top. I kissed him once before I started moving, I sat up rocking my his and bouncing a little. Leaning back placing my hands on his thighs I could feel my clit rubbing against him while I felt him deep inside me. My breathing was loud and I was starting to get close again. His hands found my hips moving me faster. I fell forward bracing myself on his shoulders feeling the tightening in my stomach as I neared climax again. “Fuck you feel so good,” Luke spoke thrusting up into me.
“Shit Luke I’m so close,” I cried feeling it coming hard again.
“Let it go, come for me (Y/N),” he spoke in my ear doing all the thrusting again. I felt the pleasure wash over me again and my body shook. I held my self up as best as I could while he continued to thrust into me. I moved my hips trying to get him there. With a quick thrust upward he came his hips shaking as he released everything. I fell limp on top of him panting and giggling to myself. “What?” he asked sounding amused.
He rolled us over and slipped out of me. “I can’t believe we just did that, I can’t believe that I just had sex with Luke Hemmings,” I said truthfully.
He let out a chuckle as he tossed the condom and threw on his boxers, “I know you’re honored,” he joked tossing me his shirt. I rolled my eyes and slipped the shirt over my head. We crawled under the blankets and curled up together. When he was fast asleep I was still awake. I couldn’t help but want to stay but part of me told me I should just go. It was better if I left because then there was less of a chance of me being seen by the other boys.
When I finally decided to leave I got dressed and then wrote him a note. I placed it on the night stand with the room key. I kissed his forehead and turned around leaving him there.

Master List

vampire!AU open starter

He doesn’t exactly remember about the first time he woke up with two things in mind: a deep sense of confusion, wondering where he was. And then hunger. A deep, mind-consuming hunger. Something that crawled under his skin, deep into his brain, something that guided him to isolate any person he could find who would not put up a fight. And then clench around their bodies like a snake while he consumed them, only leaving behind empty, pale shells of people. And every time, guilt would gnaw at him like .

He vaguely remembers time passing, winter rushing over him like a storm and leaving his figure and body perfectly intact. Summer making him sink in his worst periods of hunger. The sun light made him particularly hungry, and animalistic. The gentle, bubbly boy he once was seemed to be lost now, after years of roaming and escaping. Escaping and hurting. Hurting and feeding.

He’s crouched in an alley after seducing a young girl, sucking the life off of her, but someone must have heard her scream. That’s why he hates hunting for girls, he thinks, his ears listening for any noise. And then he stops, with his lips red with blood, his pupils widening. Someone’s coming this way.

Van Gogh and Vodka, Part Five: Undergoing as a Couple

Summary: Clarke Griffin’s new dormmate is a bully.

Notes: Almost to the finish line! Thank you so much to everyone who nominated this fic for the Bellarke Fanfiction Awards! Also, as a disclaimer, I Stared At The Wall a lot trying to fit Jake’s death into the AU, and I’m still not 100% happy with it. I realize I am playing fast and loose with the legal definition of treason, and I’m definitely not a lawyer, so I hope everyone is able to suspend disbelief in that area :P

Chapter 5 @ ao3

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