but i did three drawings before this and none. of. them. worked. out

thecybersmith  asked:

Something occurred to me recently, when I was contemplating the outcomes of a Leliana!Divine world-state. Circles, imperfect as they arguably are, provide a contained environment with which to resolve a potential outbreak of possession. I acknowledge that, as you have opined, the Rite Of Annulment is a sub-optimal response to them; that said, even a less questionable solution would be easier to implement with the Nevarran Accord in place. How would the post-circle Thedas solve such events?

Well, that’s a bit of an understatement. I believe I said that the Right of Annulment is fucking evil. :)


I stand by that, absolutely. I don’t think it is ‘questionable’ or ‘sub optimal’. I think the indiscriminate murder of what may amount to hundreds of trapped and helpless people is a grotesque and horrific thing. I get these Asks, sometimes. And they all amount to ‘But when do we get to murder mages? Surely now we can murder mages? Surely this situation is bad enough that we can murder mages?’


My answer is never. You never get to murder mages without consequences. And let’s be clear here: my word is ‘murder’. If you are cornered by a mage, possessed or otherwise, who means to kill you, and you find you must kill them to survive, then you are acting in self defence. And that’s fine. But if you have arrived on the scene with the intent to kill, you are a murderer.


First thing: this business about Circles and the Annulment being set up to resolve possession scenarios. They’re not. Not at all. If they’ve ever actually accomplished that, it was incidental to their true purpose. However, I think in most cases the Circles (and in all cases Annulments) have made things worse rather than better. I know that safety is how the Chantry sells it, but the Chantry lies.


Let’s take a look at how all this got started:


In the 83rd year of the Glory Age, one of the mages of the Nevarran Circle was found practicing forbidden magic. The templars executed him swiftly, but this brewed discontent among the Nevarra Circle. The mages mounted several magical attacks against the templars, vengeance for the executed mage, but the knight-commander was unable to track down which were responsible.


Three months later, the mages summoned a demon and turned it loose against their templar watchers. Demons, however, are not easily controlled. After killing the first wave of templars who tried to contain it, the demon took possession of one of its summoners. The resulting abomination slaughtered templars and mages both before escaping into the countryside.


The grand cleric sent a legion of templars to hunt the fugitive. They killed the abomination a year later, but by that time it had slain 70 people.


Divine Galatea, responding to the catastrophe in Nevarra and hoping to prevent further incidents, granted all the grand clerics of the Chantry the power to purge a Circle entirely if they rule it irredeemable. This Right of Annulment has been performed 17 times in the last 700 years.

– The Right of Annulment


The Templars murdered a mage for practising ‘forbidden magic’. What did he do? We’ll probably never know. And that’s the root cause of the problem: Templars are empowered to perform summary executions, and are never held accountable for their actions. They are assumed to be justified in anything they do.


The Circle mages, finding themselves trapped in a building with a mob of religious fanatics who had just proved they were not even slightly above murder, retaliated. Apparently, they were really good at it. Targeted guerilla warfare that kept the Templars on the back foot, and for which they were never caught. I’d just like to pause for a moment to give a fucking standing ovation to the Glory Age Nevarran mages. It’s doubtful they were ever able to write down and disseminate their tactics. Nevertheless, they should be an inspiration for every generation that followed after.


Eventually, someone broke through the Templar lines. I’m not sure whether I believe the bit about the demon summoning. I’ll certainly concede that it’s possible: people do summon demons to fight their battles, and that can get very, very, very out of hand. But ‘demons’ and ‘blood magic’ are the Chantry’s go-to excuses for everything, and they’ve been caught out lying or misunderstanding these situations before. The mages were, as I said, doing really well. And they were Nevarran mages. This is a culture that knows how to work the Fade, and, given that this is early Chantry history, I’d expect traditional Nevarran practices to be more prominent and less suppressed by Chantry forces. I’d put Nevarran mages up there with Rivaini and Avvar in knowing how to handle spirits.


Someone got out, and they stayed free for a year. Given that a ‘legion’ of Templars were sent after them (from context I’m not entirely sure if the author means 5,000 (ish) Templars, like they sent in the Roman army, or if she just means ‘a lot’ but I suspect the latter because bloody hell, that’s a lot of Templars), and they were pursuing them over the course of that time, I would guess that the 70 people killed were mostly, if not entirely, the pursuing Templars.


Whoever this was, possessed or not, they conducted an extremely effective rebellion against the Chantry and Circle systems. They, as well as the other mages involved, demonstrated that Templars could be resisted. And not just resisted: killed. They could be taken out in large numbers. You can just walk out of a Circle.


That could never be allowed to happen again.


The Right of Annulment meant that, back at the stage where the mages were just ‘mount[ing] several magical attacks against the Templars’, the Templars could just go in and slaughter everybody, without making any effort to discover who was behind the rebellion.


The Right of Annulment is a terror tactic, aimed at suppressing rebellion. The Circle system exists to oppress and contain mages, both for the financial and political gain of the Chantry, and because Orlesian culture is genuinely anti-magic and wants to suppress magic in other cultures. None of this is done for anyone’s safety.


Look at the other times it’s occurred (where we have any details to discuss):


The third time the Right of Annulment was invoked on a Circle of Magi, in 3:09 Towers, Knight-Commander Gervasio of Antiva killed all of the city’s mages for demonic possession. However, a massacre may have already occurred at the hands of Knight-Captain Nicolas, with the Right invoked as cover-up. The Seekers of Truth later apprehended Ser Nicholas, who had left the order to kill mages and admitted to having murdered over a hundred.

– Magehunter


Ser Nicholas murdered a bunch of mages, both inside the Circle and out, and the other Templars killed any survivors to prevent retaliation or attempts to seek justice. This is a perfect case of the process Galatea implemented working exactly as intended: the Antivan mages were never given the chance to organise and resist the way the Nevarran mages did. They also claimed they did it because of mass demonic possession, which is why I’m suspicious of the original Glory Age event.


The Annulment in the Broken Circle quest was called due to Uldred’s rebellion:


Uldred will show us the way. Finally, recognition within the Circle and freedom from the scornful eye of the templars. We will not be shunned. Be ready.
–Enchanter Gravid, Libertarian


The time is drawing near. Uldred has brought his intentions to light and a confrontation is all but inevitable. We will separate or walk with our brothers, but we will be free.
–Enchanter Boson, Libertarian


If blood must be shed and used, so be it. I will follow when he calls. The yoke must be released, whatever the cost.
–Enchanter Prist, Libertarian


I have spoken to him directly. His intentions are that we will demand the templars withdraw. I don’t know that I am willing to follow, but I will be present to hear his argument.
–Enchanter Fonst, Aequitarian


Madness! I doubt blood will be of use to you if it is flowing down the tower steps. Step away from this folly, before it consumes us all.
–Enchanter Luvan, Loyalist


The call is made. We will stride out of here with pride in our step, regardless of outcome. This is for the good of the circle. Uldred will see to it.
–Libertarian Rhonus

Promises of Pride


I can’t take any Templar handwringing over this situation seriously when I have to note that this is, once again, a rebellion. Uldred and his allies had an actual plan: with Loghain’s backing they were going to force the Templars out of the Circle. It is entirely within Templar interests to kill all of these people.


This is also a rare case where we can actually confirm a demon outbreak in the Circle. It is thus a clear example of why ‘containment’, as you’ve put it, is cruel, counterproductive, and indeed itself an outright evil.


If you are confronted by a demon, and lack the strength to fight it, the best thing you can do is leave. The Circle system does not allow mages to do that. They are unable to get away from the demons hunting them, and have no choice but to confront them. 


Because the mages could not leave the Circle, what started with a single case of demonic possession, when Uldred fucked up a summoning spell, became a plague. While the timeline on this is somewhat murky, the events of Broken Circle likely took place over two or three days: during that time both mages and Templars who were trapped in the Circle were hunted down by demons and either killed or possessed. This was always bad, but the Circle made it a nightmare.


The Annulment in the Kirkwall Chantry was largely called because Meredith is a terrible person who likes to hurt mages … but, it can certainly be framed as a reaction to what she perceives as open rebellion:


Varric: The more she squeezed the mages, the more they resisted. The more they resisted, the tighter she squeezed.


Mages have been attempting to flee Meredith’s brutal regime in the Gallows for years:


Here in Kirkwall, citizens actually help rebel mages escape. Escaped apostates have survived their freedom long enough to form the “the mage underground,” a network that feeds and shelters escapees and even transports apostates into remote areas of the Free Marches and beyond our easy reach.

The Mage Underground


We can’t trust the raiders’ promise of passage - the templar’s bounty on us is far too tempting. Press on every contact you have! We must leave Kirkwall before the knight-commander does something drastic. Each night, more of our brethren make it to the coast.

If the hounds sniff out your current location, the other site we discussed is clear. Be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.

Blood Mage Dispatches


Ultimately, of course, Meredith used Anders’s attack on the Kirkwall Chantry as a pretext for the slaughter. That had fuck all to do with the Circle mages, but it didn’t need to: the Kirkwall mages were already attempting to escape their oppression in large numbers. That couldn’t be permitted. ‘Anders’, ‘demonic possession’, ‘blood magic’ – in the end, any excuse will do, when the point of an Annulment is to both crush the present rebellion and deter anyone who thinks about trying again.


When we heard of the injustices against our fellow mages at the White Spire, the Circle of Magi in Val Royeaux, I feared what was to come. Our Circle at Dairsmuid is small and isolated; it exists largely as a façade to appease the Chantry.


When the other Circles rose up, the Chantry sent Seekers across the bay from Ayesleigh to investigate. They found us mixing freely with our families, training female mages in the traditions of the seers, and denounced us as apostates. Perhaps they thought we were spineless robes who could be intimidated with a little bloodshed. Before I was first enchanter, I was the daughter of Captain Revaud, of the Felicisima Armada. I know how to plan a battle.


They brought with them a small army of templars. We fought. And we might have won. But they invoked the Right of Annulment, with all the unrelenting brutality that allowed. It is their right to put screaming apprentices to the sword, burn our “tainted” libraries, crush irreplaceable artifacts under their heels, tear down the very walls of our home. No mage has the right to disagree.


We of the Dairsmuid Circle wait now, behind barricades. I have sent word to our brother and sister mages of this outrage. When they break through, we will not die alone.

– The Annulment at Dairsmuid


The Annulment at Dairsmuid happened because a large-scale rebellion was already underway. The Dairsmuid Circle is clearly sympathetic to the rebellion – Rivella clearly calls the events at the White Spire an injustice – but given that they are a small Circle, practically speaking they probably couldn’t add much might to the uprising. This Annulment was symbolic: the Rivaini mages have likely been living their lives like this for generations; in the context of the mage uprising any deviation from Chantry dogma could be called ‘rebellion’. This Circle could only be said to be in rebellion in the most technical sense, but that was enough. They killed them all.


The Annulment is not a solution to demon possession. It’s not intended to be. That’s not what it’s for, and that’s not how it’s used. It’s terrorism. I’m sorry for the length of this, but every time I get an Ask like this I feel like I’m somehow failing at a fundamental level to convey the horror of what is going on in Thedas. The grim, ugly persecution and mass murder that is going on day-by-day, and is being sold to the average Thedosian as for their safety. The world of Dragon Age is terrifying, but not because it has demons or mages in it. It’s terrifying because of the amount of power it has ceded to the Chantry, and because of what that means for any person who doesn’t meet the Chantry’s definition of ‘normal’.


Okay. So. How should they handle it?


There’s a flippant part of me that just wants to say ‘Any way other than this!’ Because, honestly, it’s difficult to think of a system that’s worse than the one they have now. But it’s not as though they have no way forward.


The first thing I would say is that simply abolishing the Circle system should alleviate the problem considerably, because you aren’t going to have hundreds of mages packed into a place they can’t leave. You can’t have 500 possessed mages on your hands if only three mages live in your village.


It would also limit several of the causes behind possession: you won’t be forcing people to live in places where the Veil is routinely thinned by blood magic and demon summonings (phylacteries and Harrowings, respectively, and fuck the Chantry for their hypocrisy). You won’t be constantly subjecting people to high-stress situations: Tranquility, the Harrowing, forced separation from your family, long-term confinement, Templars in general, the fact that sometimes your friends just disappear and you have to accept this as normal – you know, the standard horrors of being a Circle mage.


Of course, there will still be cases where relatively large numbers of mages congregate to deal with matters affecting them specifically: classes, lectures, magic-related competitions or other leisure activities, and the political proceedings of the College of Enchanters.


Should any trouble occur in such situations – well, most schools have evacuation and lockdown procedures in place aimed at protecting students and staff when there’s a threat on campus. Why should this situation be any different? No system is ever going to be perfect, and you can’t guarantee that no one is ever going to die (we can’t do that in our world either), but you can have strategies arranged in advance to get people away from danger areas, and on what to do if you find you can’t get out and have to protect yourself until help arrives.


First thing is clear the area. Anyone who is not actively hurting someone else right now gets to evacuate. Right now, I don’t care whether any of the people in the crowd are also possessed. You can test for that, and it may not even be a problem. Unless you currently look like this:



and you are trying to rip people’s arms off, you get to leave.


Now, yes, that still leaves us with a possessed person. On that point, I would say that the Chantry lands need to completely change how they view spirits, mages and possession. As far as I can tell, everything they think is wrong, and a lot of it is dangerous. The Chantry regards demons as ‘the Maker’s first children’, who turned on humanity out of jealousy. They are inherently evil and irredeemable. That’s not true. No spirit has ever corroborated that story, and All New, Faded for Her demonstrates that a demon is a spirit in pain, and can be healed.


The Chantry regards possession as just about universally a death sentence. And that’s … really not true. There are some cases where possession is just fine. The Chantry would have killed Wynne just as much as Uldred if they knew about her situation. Cullen wants to lock Sigrid in a room with a Templar, because he doesn’t grasp that there’s nothing wrong with her. Your first question, when dealing with a case of possession, should always be ‘Is this actually a problem?’ If not, go away and leave them alone.


Even in cases where you are looking at outright hostile demonic possession, the mage is rarely gone. Connor, untrained child that he is, still surfaces sometimes. Having defeated her Templars attackers with demonic assistance, Evelina first flees from her kids, taking the demon away from them – although she loses control later. Marethari will contain the pride demon with which Merrill has been working until she is clear of her clan and the battle can be fought in seclusion. Grandin’s kind of a weird case, because the possession was voluntary and the two are working together – but it does seem to be a demon. Nevertheless, in that case you can speak to him, and there remains hope that the two might eventually sort themselves out.


We know that mages can be saved from demons. Connor, Feynriel, Fiona, Pharamond – all people who have survived demonic possession. It’s not even necessarily difficult: you can send Jowan in to fight Connor’s demon – this poor hapless apprentice whom they were going to make Tranquil – and he does just fine. Of course, some demons are stronger than others; I’m not saying it’s not a good idea to have specialists. But the Chantry is seriously overstating the problem here.


When possessed, most mages think they are about to die. The brave, the strong, the selfless – they fight to contain the demon until someone can come and kill them so they don’t hurt anyone else. But in those circumstances, it’s all too easy to succumb to despair. Imagine if mages could think, not ‘hold on, they’re coming to kill you’ but ‘hold on, help is on its way’.


So the next thing to do would be ask Dorian. People always seem to forget that Tevinter exists and, given that mages are aristocrats there, would seriously frown on just murdering them out of hand. Anders says in Dragon Age 2 (I haven’t got a screenshot, yet) that they help possessed mages in Tevinter. Now, when you explain to him that your previous plan had just been to murder small children because of demons, Dorian is probably going to yell … a lot. I mean … really a lot. But the entirety of southern Thedas deserves that and worse, so I can’t be too bothered. Get him to send books and specialists. Make this part of the curriculum in the College of Enchanters. It might become part of the Spirit Healer specialisation, since they’re already good with spirits.


Our third thing is … well, asking Solas is probably impractical at the moment, but there are alternatives. We need people who care about spirits and who want to help them. Ask Cole: one way or another, his entire quest line is about providing a spirit with the emotional tools to handle the mortal world. There’s more than one path that works, so regardless of whether you chose more spirit/more human, he should have some insight. Ask the Rivaini, the Dalish, the Avvar. They know about spirits, and they know how to reach the Fade. Some things the Chantry thought were impossible (like safe spirit possession) turn out to be perfectly normal in other cultures.


The Chantry needs to admit they know fuck all about this situation and have been causing incalculable harm for centuries.


This whole process should be regarded like an outbreak of a really complicated illness: get everyone clear of the area, and send in professionals to help, rather than harm. Ideally, everyone should get out of this alive. You should be aiming to save the spirit and the mage. If that’s not possible, you save whom you can. Killing is only ever a last resort.


And finally … now we need to determine whether a criminal act was committed. If you got possessed because you live in Kirkwall, and it’s hard to go three steps without running into a demon, then you are a victim and once you’ve been freed of the demon you have nothing to answer for. If you thought it was a good idea to summon a demon army in your basement to TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD, then we’re going to have to bring in the guard to arrest you.


Now … that’s should. It’s probably not will. The Chantry has ruled Thedas for centuries, and they have taught people that mages want to get possessed and kill people and/or that mages want to be magisters and make everyone else slaves. Making Leliana Divine does not just do away with all that prejudice. She may well ask the questions and do the research – she’s a bright lady, and will just give zero fucks about gossip about talks with Tevinter or ‘barbarian’ cultures – but teaching people not to stab first and think later, not to regard mages as inherently evil at worst and as expendable sinners at best will take time. I expect them to handle many things badly. We haven’t done away with bigotry in the real world either, so.


There’s also the problem of Bioware, because they would really like it if I were deeply conflicted over whether to choose mages or Templars, so I do expect more side quests where they force me to kill possessed mages. I mean – I really hope they stop that shit, but I’m not expecting it.


But Circles and the Annulment are for no one’s protection. Well, no one’s but the Chantry’s. And I say: fuck the whole lot of them.

When Quiet Is Violent - Part 2

Masterlist  -  Part 1  -  Part 3

Summary: You’re retired, living a quiet and secure life when your ex, Steve Rogers, turns up on your doorstep with his best friend, seeking refuge. (bucky x reader, enhanced reader)

Prompt(s): Okay I know I already wrote Night Walks with these prompts but I really wasn’t happy with it, so here is attempt #2. @pandarositarequest: 93 and 94… but Reader being upset rather than Bucky?

93.“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”
94. “I had a bad dream again.”
Plus anon request: 64 “Here, take my blanket.”

Warnings: swearing, nightmare, that’s about it. :)

Word Count: 5168 (woops…)

Author’s Note: Okay team, enjoy the fluff while you can… 

Originally posted by you-didnt-see-that-cuming

The next morning you’d woken early, it was bright and damn cold. Snowing again. But Bucky was warm, and breathing slowly and softly and you didn’t want to move, wishing you could stay there where you’d fallen asleep, tucked close to his side long into the morning. But there were three people to whom you certainly did not want to explain this situation so you dragged yourself as quietly and gently as you could away from Bucky’s sleeping body beside you.

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Iplier Short Story #2

“What have you DONE!?” Darkiplier demanded, rising to his feet. His voice broke with fury and his shell buckled under the weight of a demons rage, unintentional yelling occurring in close spurts that was quickly drowned out by the others yelling, just as enraged.

Googles body jerked back and forth and his voice glitched more rapidly than it did on average, his anger feeding off of Darks. Ed was yelling inappropriate slurs and Bim’s anger was mostly related to getting no spotlight in the, as he described, ‘Show as shitty as the pink rat on his lip’.

Silver, too, was primarily angry about the sun not shining on him in the show, while Dr. Iplier and the Host sat silent, a satisfied smirk on Dr. Ipliers face as he kept his back to Dark and stared at Warfstache.

The Host was facing towards his folded arms, and murmuring to himself the events unfolding before him. He had nothing valuable to add to the conversation since he knew this would happen and knows how this will end. He dreaded the conversations climax.

“You’re not the only one controlling this herd, Dark!” Wilford said, standing as well and locking eyes with the gray spectrum man opposite of him, their brown eyes locking and tension crackling between the two. “We’ve agreed this is a shared burden and we must make decisions together, you deciding that this was a bad idea without input from me is not what we’ve agreed on for the years we’ve been working as partners!”

“You’re acting like a selfish toddler in the midst of a tantrum and you are in no condition to make such high staking decisions without further consulting me,” Dark retaliated, his eyes narrowed to slits and his brow furrowed, his lip drawn upwards into a growl.

“You’VE led-led-led us evEn FARther FROM Our p-pri-priiimary oBjecTIVe,” Google said, his fingernails digging into the wooden table and leaving indents, the constant jerking back and forth as he glitched leaving long swooping scratches that looked like cat claws raking at something that had run across the furniture. “You-You’re a FOOl if yOu B-B-Beliiiieve thiis wo-won’t have DIre ConsssIqueNCEs.”

“Sit your broken ass down, Google. I won’t hesitate to factory reset you,” Warfstache threatened, his brown eyes flicking towards the software who met his gaze for a second before turning away and looking at his hands.

“Everybody, please, settle down!” Dr. Iplier said, standing up and looking around the room, all eyes on him except for the four that were arguably the most powerful of the nine egos. “I know this may seem bad but please, take into consideration the benefits! After all, I am a doctor and I know best, so if I say that this is good then this must be good.”

Dark glared towards Dr. Iplier and his chair quickly scooted into the table, buckling the alleged doctors legs and forcing him to sit back down, and the man in the white coat looked to the furious demon and felt his blood run cold, adverting eye contact and going silent.

The Host mumbling was beginning to be heard as the intimidation of Dark and Warfstache caused the last three to sit down if they were standing and slowly quiet down as well, the room filled with an uncomfortable silence and the tension was thick enough you could cut it.

“Wilford began to speak,” The Host whispered, immediately followed by Warfstache hitting the table with his fist, drawing all attention to him.

“Wilford’s had enough of this shit,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Dark despite addressing everyone in the room. “You’re all blaming me and you don’t even know what for! We have no idea what stir the video will cause so crawl off your high horse as if you’re above me because at least I had the gonads to stand up against Dark when none of you dare look him in the eye. If this backfires, then you have every right to sit here and ridicule me, but until then don’t act like you can predict the future. You’ll have to be patient like everyone else and just wait.”

Silence carried on again, the tension and expectations still high and The Host had resorted to mouthing the story unraveling in front of him.

“Ok, Wilford,” Darkiplier said, slowly sitting down again and readjusting his tie and brushing a lock of hair from his face. “We’ll wait and see what kind of reaction your project gets. But I’m warning you now,” Dark continued still locking eyes with Wilford. “If this sets back our plan for even five seconds, your consequences will be devastating.”

“Alright, fine,” Wilford sighed, combing some hair to the side with his fingers and brushing off his shirt.

“Good. If that’s all that there is to discuss, then meeting is adjourned,” Dark announced, and in immediate response practically everyone in the room gathered anything they might have brought with them and piled out of the office, eager to escape the room still heavy with anger and discomfort. The only two that stayed were The Host and Darkiplier.

“You should’ve told me,” Dark said, his narrowed eyes casting a glare towards the Host who didn’t turn away from his arms.

“…It wouldn’t have changed anything,” The Host responded in a hushed voice. “All paths pointed to the disobedience of Wilford no matter how many words you, I, or anyone shared. If every reality is certain of a single action then that action will be performed in every reality. I’m sorry, Dark, but warning you would’ve done nothing but waste both of our time.”

“That’s for me to decide, not you,” Dark said, his voice hissing with anger. “I’ve kept you by my side and I’ve put you first countless of times. Who saved you and healed you after you were shot and left for dead in a shed out in the middle of nowhere?”

The Host was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke he was as quiet as a terrified child answering obediently to a furious parent. “You,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he strained to make himself heard.

“Yes, and now you are repaying my generosity with unjustified disobedience?” Dark demanded, his hand clenched into a fist. “All I’ve asked you to do was tell me of any future events that will negatively or positively affect me, is that really too much? Tell me now before it’s too late because I can remove you very quickly if need be.”

“…That won’t be necessary,” The Host said, his fingers scratching his arms anxiously. “This won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“You’re better than this, Author,” Dark said, standing up as well. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you do this again.”

Dark once again readjusted his hair and the gray around him flickered as he disappeared, leaving the Host alone in the conference room once again, where he faced the wall for a long moment before putting his face against the table and hiding himself, wrapping his arms around his head and letting out a short, shaky breath.

All In The Follow Through

“Are you sure you want me to come with you?” Bitty asks, but it’s a moot point by now. They’re already on their way to the driving range. Jack puts his blinker on and takes a left and goes down a street Bitty’s never been on before. “Wouldn’t it be better if Ransom went with you?”
“Holster said he’s on the way to becoming a coral reef so I think he’s out.”

“But still. There isn’t anyone else? I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never golfed before.”

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Oh Sehun//Love Thy Neighbor - Part 2

Originally posted by oohsehunnies

Summary: You move into a new apartment after your boyfriend leaves to go abroad, making your relationship long distance. You’re tired, stressed and missing him - and your next door neighbor isn’t making life any easier. (Part 1/Part 2)
Scenario: neighbor!AU, slightly angsty
Word Count: 4,724

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Once Upon an Allergy

The Spring Exchange fic authors have been revealed, so I can post this here now!

This was my exchange fic for @baneismydragon! I hope you enjoy(ed) it, you gave a really good prompt! Shout out to @reyxa for lending me her soulmates au where the sneezes of soulmates sync up.

Summary: "After pouring two packs of chocolate powder in each mug, she felt a sudden sensation in her sinuses thanks to the powder that remained in the air. Quickly, she put her finger below her nose, pleased when the sneeze stopped. After that, it was quick work to pour the water and stir the mix in, and just as she was about to bring them out-

She sneezed.

She stared at the mugs of hot chocolate, her eyes impossibly wide. There was no way. She had to be dreaming. She did not just hear three consecutive sneezes come from her friends in the living room.”

Or, a soulmate au where the sneezes of soulmates sync up after you meet them.

AO3


“Alright, class, we’ve got two new students joining us this semester. Please, introduce yourselves for us,” their teacher, Madame Bustier, said.

Standing in front of the rest of the class were two students, one that looked excited and fiery, and another that looked shy and awkward. To the class’ surprise, the shy one spoke first.

“Hi, my name’s Adrien, and I look forward to working with all of you in the future.” He punctuated his statement with a quick little wave and a sweet smile.

After he finished speaking, the other spoke. “I’m Alya, and I just moved nearby from across the city.”

Madame Bustier gave them both a smile and gestured for them to find their seats. Alya moved instantly, spotting an empty seat in the second row, next to a girl she’d actually ran into before school started. Adrien rubbed his arm, his eyes sweeping across the room. He saw a childhood friend of his waving for him to sit by her, but he cringed when he saw her trying to push her seatmate out for him. In the hopes of letting the poor girl keep her seat, Adrien sat as close as he could by taking the empty seat in front, next to a student that looks uninterested in what was going on.

While the two settled in, their teacher was about to continue speaking when two synchronized sneezes sounded from the back of the room. Adrien and Alya both turned to look, eyes wide at actually having a pair of soulmates in their classroom. They saw a couple sitting next to each other in the row behind Alya, both of them blushing a tiny bit as their hands intertwined.

Patient though she may be, when Adrien and Alya didn’t look away, Madame Bustier cleared her throat and brought their attention back to her. It was only then that the two noticed nobody else had turned to gawk, which could only mean they all knew already.

“I understand that soulmates are an interesting topic to talk about, let alone see in person, but we do have class to tend to, Monsieur Agreste and Mademoiselle Césaire.” With that, she turned around and started writing on the board. Adrien looked sheepish and stared down at his desk while Alya turned to the girl beside her and started whispering.

“So girl, mind spilling the beans on those two behind us?” she asked, not quiet enough to keep Adrien and his seatmate from hearing. “Are they really… you know?”

Keep reading

My Impression Of You

A/N: So, this is my first attempt to write a Riverdale one-shot! I was inspired to write this after I listened to some music and I hope you’ll like it! Archie’s personality is something I wonder about a lot while watching Riverdale and I explore that here. Please let me know what you think about it and if you’d like to read more! xo

Plot: Your perfectly normal day gets disturbed by Archie Andrews, one of the popular kids you usually only observe from a distance. Suddenly, though, you have one of the deepest conversations of your life and maybe have to revise your opinion about him.

Originally posted by archic-andrews

It was a usual Friday afternoon when Archie Andrews decided to disturb your life. A wonderfully normal day in Riverdale like every other day, at least before Jason Blossom was murdered. You kept to yourself throughout the morning periods, as usually, ate your lunch in the sun under the big oak tree and pretty much spent the whole day thinking about how you could improve the stage design for the newest play the little drama group at your school was planning. That was your thing. Making props, painting them, working on them in peace and alone. That was what you loved most.

Only that Friday afternoon it didn’t go down like that. You sat down to continue painting the majestic tree that would be at the centre of the stage in act three, biting your lower lip, frowning and placing brush marks here and there in highest concentration. Forgetting pretty much everything around you or just blending it out because it didn’t matter in that moment. That’s why he caught you off guard when he cleared his throat to get your attention.

You twitched and turned around, staring at Archie Andrews standing there with a curious expression, grasping the strap of his backpack and wearing that blue and yellow football jacket that you never really liked. You just never got why they felt the need to wear them 24/7. Maybe to show their status, which didn’t make them appear any more sympathetic in your eyes.

“Ehm…did you lose your way?”, you asked him because nobody ever came into that room. Especially no popular kid. Never.

Archie raised his eyebrows in surprise and hurried to answer. “Oh, no, I was searching for the props department. That’s right here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…what do you need?” You were absolutely aware of the fact that you sounded a little hostile but you couldn’t help yourself. Archie had never talked to you before. You doubted that he had even noticed you before. You only knew his voice from scraps of conversation you took up when you passed him in the hallway or, more currently, from when he was singing. He was one of the people who never really hurt others, or at least don’t attempt to do so, but also rest themselves in their social status without looking at those who surround them. At least that’s what you thought.

“Well, I thought I could do this as an extracurricular activity”, he explained, still without moving an inch. It was obvious that your reaction scared him away a little.

“But you’re in the football team”, you stated irritated.

“Yeah. So?”

“So why would you want to join the prop department? Which, by the way, consists of only me.”

“I kinda need the extra credit”, he finally admitted and you sighed to yourself. Of course. That was so typical. They thought painting cardboards was an easy way to gain credits. You actually would’ve been surprised if he had had any passion for this. Well, you didn’t really want to get upset about it because they usually never came back for a second time, so why bother?

“Alright. You can paint this tree over there, I already draw the lines and we can put it somewhere in the background. Just don’t screw up too badly”, you advised him, pointing at a prop in the corner of the room and returning to your own work. He shot you another amazed look before he pulled a chair to the cardboard, placed his backpack next to the door and sat down to start painting.

For a while you worked in silence and you tried to ignore that Archie was there, which was nearly impossible because whatever you could say about him, he definitely had some emission. While you were a person that could easily disappear in a crowd, he wasn’t. Maybe because of the red hair.

“Why are you the only one working on this?”, he asked you at some point without looking at you. It didn’t seem like the mere attempt to do smalltalk but like he was honestly interested in the answer, so you gave it.

“Because nobody gives a damn about theatre in this school”, you said, unable to hide the bitter tone in your voice. “It’s all about music. All about the Pussycats. Or people like you. And no offense, music is a form of art too, it deserves attention! But it’s really annoying that it gets so much of it and drama absolutely none.”

“Well…I don’t think it gets none…”, he mumbled with a frown.

“Really? Have you seen one play since you go to this Highschool?”, you stopped him right there, watching closely while he thought about it. Him pressing his lips together and not giving an answer was answer enough.

“Thought so. Like I said. It’s all about football, the Vixens and music.”

“And you don’t like any of that”, he mused. By now he totally forgot about painting the tree and was simply watching you closely, maybe trying to figure out where all the weirdness and bitterness came from. You were not a victim of bullying or in any way ugly. You just didn’t like those Higschool power games.

You pushed out a little laugh at his statement and shot him an amused look, meeting his warm brown eyes for the first time. “No. That’s not the point. I do like watching football games like every other person. I do like listening to the Pussycats, although it’s not necessarily my type of music. I just…I just don’t like the whole thing surrounding it, you know? All these people enjoying their popularity and the attention others, and with that I mean normal students like me, give them and not even minding to get to know our names. Like we aren’t part of the same school.”

It was confusing that he made you open up like that but it also felt good to get it off your chest. Although it probably wasn’t fair that he was the one receiving all your anger because he really wasn’t the worst of the lot by far.

Archie now looked at you with raised eyebrows. For the first time since he entered the room, a little smile played around his lips. It changed his face very positively.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N”, he suddenly said triumphantly.

You blinked at him, honestly astounded. “What?”

“Y/N. That’s your name. We have been in the same school since first grade, why wouldn’t I know your name?”

His smile widened a bit at your expression and you quickly hid behind your tree, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Although you really were surprised. You hadn’t expected that. Your paths never crossed and you never had the feeling like Archie was particularly aware of your existence.

“Okay, I’ll grant you that. Doesn’t change the bigger picture, though”, you grumbled.

He was silent for another moment and you already thought that you won and finally hushed him when he suddenly asked: “You don’t like me much, do you?” Still the question didn’t sound like he was upset or mad about your behaviour but simply curious.

You sighed once again and rolled your chair aside so you fully faced him. He was returning your gaze attentively, as if you were a particularly interesting object in a museum. You almost blushed but you were able to keep your cool and stare at him as patronizing as possible.

“Look, Archie, it’s not like that. I don’t even really know you. I simply don’t like the fact that everybody thinks people like you are perfect.”

“I’m not perfect”, he shot back automatically.

“Oh, I know.”

You realized too late that that was really offensive. You felt the heat creeping into your cheeks as his mouth dropped open and Archie looked hurt for a moment. He squinted his eyes and ran his fingers through his red hair, probably contemplating how he was supposed to react.

“What do you mean with that?”, he asked you in the end, sounding more careful and restrained than before.

You gulped down your embarrassment and searched for words that could explain what you actually meant.

“Well…I can only tell you what I observed from a distance. But in my opinion you are always really trying to do the right thing and often screw up. There is that thing with Betty. I mean, everybody in this school knows what’s been going on there and she is an absolute sweetheart but you kinda let her down the worst way possible. I am not saying that you don’t like her or respect her but you could’ve done that way more sensible. Especially since you obviously returned from this summer less boyish, whatever the reason for that is.”

Archie listened to you patiently, not interrupting you or getting angry at you which might have been a reasonable reaction to the accusations of a person that he had nothing to do with. It seemed more like he wanted to hear it, like he wondered a lot about himself but needed someone else to deliver conclusions and solutions. You felt your respect for him growing a bit because not many people were able to accept criticism like him.

“I know that I hurt Betty and I really regret that, but I didn’t do it on purpose”, he defended himself in the end, his eyes mirroring the pain he obviously felt about it.

You gave him a little understanding smile. “Of course not. Honestly, Archie, I think your problem is your insecurity. Betty was in a bad place the last few weeks, probably because of her sister or something, I’m not sure, and I gotta say that I was surprised when you weren’t really there for her. I guess you were so indulged in your music and in your fears of not being good enough in what you do. You just don’t believe enough in yourself, which is absurd regarding that everyone around you supports you. You always need people helping you, telling you that you have talent and then you engage in those far too quickly. And with that I mean Victoria and Valerie. Instead of letting them build your confidence, maybe you should learn to build it up on your own.”

You were a little bit confused yourself why you knew so much about him, so you couldn’t judge him for being even more irritated. You both totally forgot why you were here and simply sat in that room and looked at each other while Archie was processing what you just said. If he decided to simply run away now you would’ve understood. But he didn’t.

“Fair enough. I guess I have to think about it. There is one thing I don’t get, though: you seem to be interested in what’s happening around you, in the people that surround you. You even said that Betty is an absolute sweetheart, but you never returned her attempts to make conversation. So why don’t you mingle more and at least try to share your passion with others?”, he investigated, now sitting on the edge of his chair, his body tensed as if he found this dialogue quite fascinating.

It was the first time that you were on the defensive side and you immediately felt uneasy when he spoke about your persona. You were a lot better at reflecting others than yourself. You bit your lower lip and instead of keeping to look at him, your gaze returned to your half-finished tree. That made answering a little bit easier.

“Well, I guess I have to think about it.”

You missed the smirk that appeared on Archie’s face as you repeated his retort. He watched you for some time while you started to paint again, caught up in his own thoughts that you produced with your words. He didn’t have such an intense conversation for a very long time.

As the bell rang, both of you almost jumped. Man, that hour passed quickly. You were almost sorry when Archie got up from his chair and threw his backpack over his shoulder. And you were annoyed at yourself for that. But this exchange of words was the most interesting and intimate thing that happened to you in quite some time.

“This definitely turned out different than I thought but it was entertaining. I’ll see you next week”, he told you, grinning at you before he left the room. Although he didn’t look mad you were pretty sure that he wouldn’t return for another session. Little did you know that you awoke Archie’s curiosity. And little did you realize how much he awoke yours.


CP bachelor AU: part 5

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

***

Damen is as good as his word. He behaves. He’s friendly and noble and straightforward and, somehow, manages to make it seem natural that he should be fond of so many people at once. He speaks earnestly into the camera about the good points of every single suitor, and never oversells it. He doesn’t show a marked preference for Erasmus over the others. Laurent barely has to edit Damen’s scenes for narrative tension at all.

By the time something goes wrong, Laurent has been bracing himself for almost two weeks for something to go wrong, because luck never lasts in television.

The twenty suitors have been winnowed down to twelve. They’ve decamped for a couple of days to a tiny private beach north of the city, the owner of which owes Laurent a favour, and the shooting schedule is full of bikinis, beach volleyball, romantic walks, and hopefully fewer jellyfish-sting disasters than last year, ie. none.

To kick things off, they have a bonfire party. Laurent has offered three hundred dollars to any producer who gets a suitor to suggest skinny-dipping; it was going to be two hundred, but the temperature’s dropped unseasonably low, and the wind sweeping in off the sea has a bite to it. 

Laurent is watching Damen have a conversation about superheroes with a gaggle of suitors–all of them gamely clutching drinks and none of them wanting to leave in case they end up missing a chance for Alone Time–when Orlant comes to tell him that all of the previous day’s footage has vanished.

Vanished?” Laurent says.

Keep reading

The Notebook Ch.1

Title: The Notebook
Character: Lin X Reader
Prompt: When the reader runs into Lin in the airport, (literally “runs” into him), an accidental notebook swap occurs in the confusion, and they go home with each other’s work.
Word Count: 2,859 (wowie)
W/T: none???
A/N: wow it’s been a while. Two things; 1, this is literally a dream I had. 2, I blame @secretschuylersister for wearing off on me enough to write this.
~SJ

———

The blinding lights and bustling streets of New York only seem like background noise to you at this point in your life. You’ve lived here since you graduated college, and it hasn’t been as bad as you’d originally thought. Sure, the towering skyscrapers and ceaseless shouting or honking outside of your apartment was much different than the silent cricket chirps outside of your family’s home back in Missouri, but it was a much needed change.

In fact, living in New York has changed your life completely. You were still the same kiddo from the small country town back home, aspiring to do great things. You still said “y'all”. You still lived off of sweet tea. You still had all of your little traits you’d gained from growing up there. But once you hit New York? “Culture Shock” was really the only way to describe it.

It seemed like you were never alone in the “City that Never Sleeps”. The streets were never empty, the lights glaring from the billboards outside of your window were your new night stars, and you always saw something new everyday. It’s was probably one of the best places for you to be with your dream job; writing. A new thing seen on the side of the street fueled a new song lyric, a new poem, a new story, and new something. You were constantly jotting stuff down in your favorite black notebook, usually adding to your current project; a musical.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want me to go get you something before you leave for the airport?” Your roommate’s voice inquires from the opposite side of the dining room table, her head resting in her hand defeatedly from her work. You don’t even bother to peal your eyes away from your page, frantically scribbling down yet another lyric for one of your main characters. “Nah, I’ll probably just grab something quick on the way to the airport. Thanks though, Ky.” She raises an eyebrow at you, obviously doubting that you will. “Uh huh. Like all of those other times that you’ve said that you’ll get something to eat on the way out, and proceed to not go out, continue to write in that stupid notebook of yours, and stay up until I wake up the next morning?”

“Okay okay, you’ve got me there.” You breathe, allowing for her to pull the black leather bound pages away from you. “But what can I say, Ky? I’m basically a writing machine, I just can’t help it. There’s too many ideas locked up inside of my mind to not write them all down. I wanna share them with the world!”

“You can keep writing about those silly little characters you’ve got after you eat something, Y/N. There’s my leftovers in the fridge I’ll let you have if you eat them right now.” Kylie offers, gesturing to the stainless steel door behind her. “Yeah yeah, okay. No need to blackmail me here.” You retort, rolling your eyes and nudging her aside. Slipping your hand around the cool handle, you yank the door open and pull out the white styrofoam box, ready to devour it in order to keep writing. “You never talk to me about anything besides your stupid musical now, Y/N. I wanna talk about other stuff.” Kylie huffs, flopping into the wooden chair across from yours at the table.

“That came out of nowhere.” You chuckle, settling back into your spot, this time eating instead of writing. “I know, but I feel like you’ve just been kinda distant lately. I don’t think you’ve actually talked to me about your life for at least a month-oh my god you’ve never talked to me about your love life. Tell me. Now.” Kylie gushes, her eyes widening at the thought of not knowing. “I’ve never talked about it because it’s non-existent.” You joke through a mouthful of a quesadilla. “When was your last relationship?” She questions, her eyebrows furrowing slightly with concern. You simply shrug. “Last kiss?” “Never had one.” “Last time you were in love?!” “Does the kid I hated in 1st grade count?”

“Oh my god, why have you never told me that you’re helpless?!” Kylie cries, flailing her hands around frantically. “I didn’t realize that my love life was a big deal to you?” You snort, suddenly reconsidering if you should’ve just lied to her and said you had a boyfriend. Wow, that actually did make you sound really lonely. Nice going. “Um, hello?! Being in love is one of the-no, IS the best feeling in the world?!”

“Love is a choice, not really an emotion, KyKy.” You correct, gently pointing your fork at her in correction. Or at least, that’s what you’ve always known it as. Throughout high school, you saw relationship after relationship go strong for a solid three months, and then crash and burn because the “feeling just wasn’t there” and they’d already moved on to a new lover. You never understood how people could just hook up because of “a feeling”, and then not try to fix it if they thought it was that important. It’s always seemed like it should be an effort from both parties, not just “run with this instinct”. That and everyone in your school were a bunch of idiots.

“Wow. Okay I need to take you out with me sometime, you’re going to get a boyfriend to call your own.” Kylie breathes, making it sound like it’s going to be a hassle. “Hey! I’m perfectly lovable, thank you very much.” You snap, narrowing your eyes at her. “Oh are you now, little Miss No-Love-Life?” She throws back just as quickly. “By the sounds of it, you really aren’t.”

“Well it’s not just that nobody’s ever had a crush on me, I can name off a couple. It’s a matter of them not sharing the same ideals and such as me.” “Oh, please do go on. I’m curious of what these ideals could possibly be.” Kylie teases, leaning into her hands playfully.

“Simple. None of them have ever understood my love for writing, how I need to throw my thoughts onto paper, how I want too make something out of thin air.” There were a couple of people from high school you can remember having a bit of a thing for you, but at the same time you can remember how you cast them away way too quickly when you got to know them. In retrospect, you were probably kinda cruel to them, but you’ve always stood by what you learned from growing up. Your stubbornness wasn’t about to give in on the one thing that you’ve always loved.

“Oh, so you want someone who’s just as insane as you about writing, so that you two can die together because you forgot about your needs for survival? Got it.” Kylie laughs, still in disbelief that guys had crushes on you. “Whatever, Ky. Just give me my notebook back already, I’ve gotta get going.” You fume, shoving the empty takeout box at her from across the table. “Okay, geez. Didn’t know you were such a crabby person when you’re away from your paper.” She sighs, handing back your notebook. “Most people would get upset if you held their child hostage.”

“Wow, you really are obsessed with that thing, aren’t you?”

“Goodbyeeeee Kylie.” You draw out, wrapping your hand around the handle of your luggage, and tossing your backpack over your shoulder as you head for the front door. “Waitwaitwaitwait.” She fumbles, racing towards you. She wraps her thin arms around you, embracing you tightly. “Stay safe, Y/N. And find yourself a boyfriend while you’re at it.” You roll your eyes jokingly and hug back, the resentment from moments ago melting away.

“Okay, now get going you lug. I want the apartment to myself for as long as I can get.” Kylie finishes, gently pushing you out the door and into the complex’s hallway. “Whatever. I’ll see you in two weeks, you snot.” You call back, rolling your bag towards the elevator.

Tucking an earbud into your ear, you bury your phone into your pocket and pull you pencil out from behind your other ear, already jotting some more stuff down about your main characters and their backgrounds. Maybe have them meet at a party? No, that’s too High School Musical-y. Maybe in the park? Meh, cliché. What about if they just run into each other somewhere-literally run into each other? That’s a good one, adds to the comedic effect. Would their best friends push them back together? Is there going to be a huge fight, or will there be a tragedy for one of them that makes the super withdrawn? Why not both? Will one of them die in the end? Will one of them leave and fall for someone else? Will there be a happily ever after-ew no. Happy endings always happen by happenstance, and it’s just not logical. That doesn’t happen in the real world. No happy endings.

Thoughts continue to flood through your mind and onto the paper as you hit the outside of your apartment building and whistle for a taxi, hoping that one stops within the next five minutes. Luckily, the first one manages to see you and pulls over, letting you climb in the back. The driver’s gruff voice calls to you, “Where ya headed?”. “JFK.” You quickly respond, scratching something out on another page just to rewrite the idea. “Ya don’t sound like yer from ‘round here, little lady. You headed back home or sometin’?” He asks curiously, his voice rather warm and inviting, like your favorite uncle or something.

“Is it that easy to tell?” You laugh, forcing yourself away from your journal for a little bit to keep a conversation with him. “Trust me, lil’ lady, I’ve had ma fair share of outta-towners in this her’ girl. Ya sound kinda southern, but not really. Midwest maybe?” He guesses, tilting his dark sunglasses down to look at you from his rearview mirror. “You’re good.” You nod, smiling at his correct answer. “That’s what I thought.” He smirks, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Anytin’ in particular yar’ leavin’ for?”

“Nothing more than returning home for a couple of weeks at this point. Maybe busting with some old friends, who knows.” You answer distantly, the thoughts of what could happen at home overcoming you for a moment. There’s so many people you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. And you haven’t seen your dog in ages, either. “Simple 'nuff. Wish I could go back home fer’ a lil’ bit, ya know? Get ta visit with ma Nana again, see how she’s been doin’.”

“How long has it been since you’ve gone home?” You question, taking in his features as you do so. A bit larger, receding hairline pretty evident, dark sideburns, and an impressive beard to match. They all seem to fit his voice perfectly. “Uh, let’s see her’. Probably when I graduated, so… Eleven ye-nah, that’s too short. Probably somewhere closer ta fifteen or so, s'uppose.” He draws out, scratching his curly beard. “Fifteen years?!” You instinctively blurt out, instantly regretting it. “Ya, I’ve been stuck up her’ in da Big Apple fer’ a long while now, ya know? I just haven’t really given myself a chance ta get outta her’. Glad ya can, doh. Helps lift ma spirits a bit, seein’ ya off.”

“Speakin’ a which, her’ ya are, lil’ lady! The famous plane port of da Big Apple!” He presents, parking the cab along the curb next to the front entrance. You blink a bit, taking in the sudden appearance of the airport and its towering parts. “Oh wow. We got here fast. How much do I owe you?” You start pulling your wallet out of your backpack, but a gentle, calloused hand sets itself on your shoulder. Slightly confused, you turn towards the front seat, only to be greeted by the same smiling face as before.

“No charge fer’ ya, lil’ lady. It’s been a bit since I’ve had a good ol’ conversation with someone, ya know? Ever'one her’ is always in a rush and snappy, wantin’ ta get somewhere quick. Thank ya for given ma a good laugh today.”

You don’t know how to respond. Your mouth has opened to try and deter him, but nothing comes out, which only makes his grin wider and more toothy. “Now get a move on, lil’ lady. Don’t want ya ta be a missin’ dat flight of ya’s cuz’ I’m bein’ nice.”

Flabbergasted, you slowly climb out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk, bag and notebook in hand, and watch the dandelion yellow taxi pull away, leaving a thin cloud of exhaust in its wake. You glance down at your watch, the minute hand hovering over the 6 is all the indication you need to start booking it to your gate.

Weaving between as many people as you can while still jotting stuff down about that taxi driver in your notebook, you hurry across the airport, trying to multitask and catch your plane all in due time. It’s not as hard as you thought it would be, considering everyone was clearing a path for you as you plowed towards them.

Well, except one person.

Your notebook goes clambering to the glossy tile floor as you topple to the ground, your backpack slipping off of your shoulder and your luggage rolling out of reach. Your back crashes against the hard ground, and your lungs collapse in on themselves for a moment on impact. Thank god you had the wind knocked out of you for a second, because if you hadn’t, you probably would’ve said something utterly embarrassing about the rather cute guy on top of you, his face inches from yours.

“Oh shi- I’m so sorry! Here lemme-uh-…” He fumbles, trying to push himself off of you as quickly as possible without making it more awkward. He manages it, (somehow), and offers you a hand, which you take, a bit dazed from the impact still. Wow, he’s stronger than he looks. “Uhhh…” He sounds off, awkwardly brushing some invisible dust off of your clothes. “Sorry about that. I get kinda caught up in my head sometimes.”

“No, it’s fine, I do too. I should’ve looked where I was going in the first place.” You apologize, leaning down to pick up your notebook. “Oh, let me get that for you.” He instantly states, snatching it up in his hands. “Huh, this one looks like the one I have.” He chuckles slightly, patting his pocket for a second before going into a panic. “Wait, where is my notebook?” He stammers out, spinning around to look for it.

“Oh, is this it?” You ask, picking up an identical notebook to yours next to your slightly rolled away luggage. His face immediately softens at the sight of it, his eyes almost brightening. “Wow, we really are a mess, huh?” He laughs nervously, swapping notebooks with you.

“Y/N.”

“Lin.”

A single best of silence passes between the two of you, before your watch beeps at you. You glance down to it to see that your flight leaves in five minutes, and panic washes over you. “Sorry Lin, but I don’t wanna miss my plane. Nice talking to you!” You shout over your shoulder as you take off in a dead sprint for your exit, which is now within sight.

Frantically waving down the flight attendant like in the movie Home Alone, she graciously reopens the door to the plane for you, and you quickly take to your seat, pushing your carry on into whatever overhead space you can find.

The seatbelt light flickers on overhead, and you try to settle into place. Luckily, not many people are on the flight to St. Louis, so you have the row to yourself. The flight attendants flow into the isle to do their normal routine of safety, but you tune them out and set your notebook on your lap, digging out a pencil from your backpack, ready to write again. That taxi driver really gave you a new idea for a character that helps advance the plot of your musical.

Flipping open to a random page, you skim over everything, trying to find the right area to start again. Let’s see, Laurens and Hamilton have a thing for each other, Angelica has a thing for Hamilton, Jefferson is a magenta ass-wait. Since when did you have a Laurens? Or a Hamilton? Or an Angelica? Or a Jefferson? When did they all develop a thing for each other? This handwriting doesn’t look like yours, it’s too nice for scribbles.

You thumb through the other pages, becoming more and more frantic as you see the same penmanship sprawling across the other yellowing pages. Where did all of your work go?! When did it get replaced with this- this- what do you even call this?!

Then it hits you. The clumsy yet cute man that tackled you. The awkwardness of the encounter. The panic over notebooks.

Oh no.

Lin has your notebook.

And you have his.

———–

Please give me feedback on this story, because I’ve been away so long!

work from home

Alright I mean I had to do it and don’t mind the cheesy title, I promise this ones not that corny. I added Reggie cuz I love him and I miss him!
***

Jughead wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned against the metal shovel he was carrying, Archie was stretching his back clearly sore from this mornings aggressive concrete pouring. They’d all been at the site for hours and Their day had only just begun, Reggie and Kevin made their way over to the pair of sweaty boys.

“Dude I’m all for helping out your dad but I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to lift for days after this, and that’s coming from Mantle the Magnificent, I can carry a damn ox, I can’t even imagine how Kevin must feel right now.” Reggie shot a smirk in Kevin’s direction, rolling his shoulders daintily he just shrugged

“I feel fine, fit as a fiddle.”

Moose joined the group with a shake of his head and a hidden smile “yeah well that’s because anytime something is too heavy, he calls me over.”

Archie laughed and clapped Reggie on the shoulder “I wanna thank you guys again, this really means a lot to me. I know how much me and my dad appreciate it.”

All of a sudden Reggies eyes went wide as he stared at something behind Jughead and Archie

“Oh no, that is thanks enough” he stated practically drooling.

Archie and jughead turned to see what the boy was looking at as Kevin gasped “holy fifth harmony music video.”

Coming towards them almost in slow motion was Betty, Veronica and Josie, all decked out in construction hats and holding shovels over their shoulders, their hair seemed to be blowing in the wind and jughead was certain that if this was a movie some sexy R&B song would be playing in the background.

While Reggie, Moose and Archie all seemed to be panting and staring at the three girls, trying to decide who to watch, Jugheads eyes were glued only on Betty. He didn’t think he had ever had a sexual fantasy but damn, this was a dream come true.

She looked amazing in her tiny cut off shorts Showing her long tan legs, a red and black flannel was tied around her waist and loosely hanging behind her, she had on a form fitting white tank top and her shoulders were partly covered with unruly honey blonde curls, the construction hat lopsided on her head. He wanted nothing more than to tug her into his body and kiss that silly hat right off of her head. Betty noticed his stare and blushed a light pink, her eyes lingering on his bare arms as she darted out her tongue to look her bubblegum pink lips.

Veronica dropped her shovel to the ground and smiled at Archie, “were here to help, send me to my post boss!” She fake saluted him and he finally swallowed smiling gently at the kind hearted girls.

“You don’t have to do this guys, I know it’s not really your scene.”

Betty shook her head “you guys need help and that’s what you’re gonna get, we may not be the most handy but I’m good with a tool set and Josie and Ronnie are small they can get in tiny areas. We can help, let us help.”

Archie nodded and broke out into a grin
“Well alright we’ll pair off then, Ronnie you can be with me, Betty you’ll be with…”

Jughead cut him off “me. She’ll be with me.”

Betty blushed again and smiled moving to stand near her partner as Archie paired Josie with Reggie “okay guys we’ll meet up in two hours, be careful and if you need anything my dads right in his office. Thankyou guys.”

Jughead grabbed the shovel out of Betty’s hands and tugged her towards where he had been pouring cement “you’re something else Betty Cooper, you never cease to amaze me.” She giggled at him and smiled “and I hope I never do. Now show me how to do the cement” she seemed genuinely excited and for the next hour and a half they built walls with brick and cement and shared stories teasing each other the whole time.

After three whole walls Betty dropped the smoother and sighed heavily,

“Okay that’s it, my poor little arms are about to fall off, I can’t cheerlead with out arms.”

Jughead laughed and dropped his own tool moving to stand by her “you did really good, I’m always impressed by how quick you learn things, also you’re ability to try things you never have before.” He stood in front of her and smiled at the amazing girl in front of him.

Suddenly the air shifted and Betty was closer than he remembered, her hands moving to draw lazy circles on his biceps, biting her lip she looked up at him “wanna know something else I’ve never tried?” she whispered

He gulped at the feeling of her cool fingertips on his bare skin and the way her teeth tugged at those soft lips “what’s that?” He choked out

She reached up and whispered in his ear “I’ve never made out with anyone on a construction site.”

That was all it took for him to lose control, he let out a low growl and hooked his arms around Betty’s backside lifting her onto the dried concrete wall as he cut off her giggle with his own mouth.

They fought for dominance, each of them feeling so strongly passionate, it was new and it was different and it was amazing, when Jughead placed his open palms on the bare skin of her thighs, Betty slid her hands under his tank top, feeling his toned muscular back she scraped her fingers nails over the skin and he groaned into her mouth, biting down onto her bottom lip
Jughead shifted Betty so she was pushed up against the wall still sitting on the stone his legs in between hers,

“Bets” he moaned, moving to kiss along her jaw and the sensitive sweet spot that was her neck. she whimpered at the sensation and sighed breathily “you’re not allowed to wear sleeves ever again” her hands ran up and down his arms as he pulled back and gave her a silly smile raising his brow “don’t stop!” She pouted, pulling him back to her lips.

He smiled into the kiss and he didn’t think he would ever be this turned on again in his entire life, he had never had these urges before so it only made it all so much more intense

“You’re everything” he whispered into her neck as she kissed behind his ear, she pulled away this time, looking at him confused. Jughead just shook his head “you don’t know what you mean to me, what you do to me.” He whispered leaning his forehead against hers, his hands resting in her butt pockets, she just smiled

“You’re everything to me too Juggie.” She brought him in for another kiss when suddenly the clearing of a throat drew them out of their bubble.

Standing there smirking and holding two cokes was none other than Fred Andrews, both the teens blushed scarlet as Betty went to tuck in her tank top and jughead searched for his hard hat.

“The rest of the gang is looking for you two, you might wanna head over there.” He placed the sodas on the wall with an amused smile “oh and Betty?”

She looked up from her place on the wall
“Yes Mr.Andrews?” She said thoroughly embarrassed.

“Your flannel is draped over the cement mixer.” With that he walked away , leaving both the teens staring after him in embarrassed, stunned silence.

Finally, Jughead grabbed her flannel and walked to her to tie it around her waist, pulling her in for one final kiss as they left the safety of their own little corner.

Half way to the rest of the group Betty turned to Jughead “hey Juggie?” She asked

He raised a brow and hummed “hmm?”

She sighed, smoothing her frazzled hair
“I think from now on, you better work from home.”

She Was Pretty

[ Hoseok x Reader ]

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Description: After years of separation, you run into your childhood best friend, only to have him not recognize you as you are no longer the pretty girl he had once explored the world with. With it now being Valentine’s Day, you find yourself trapped on a blind date, only to run into him at one of the nicest restaurants in town.

Happy birthday to @artsyhobi, I hope you enjoy this one! ♡

heavily inspired by the kdrama She Was Pretty - Copyright© Since 1996, MBC&iMBC All rights reserved

Originally posted by hobisu

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Worth The Risk {Part 07}

Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky knew that all Steve wanted was for him to get along with her, but was it really worth the risk?

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05 / Part 06 / Part 08 / Part 09 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 - Coming Soon!

Word Count: 2432
Warnings: swearing, mild violence, angst (?), probably gonna be sad

A/N: so i fell asleep on top of my laptop writing this two nights in a row… which, honestly, is a perfect reflection of my mental and physical health atm lmao BUT thank you all for being so incredibly patient with me and i hope you enjoy <3

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

You sat curled up on your small couch, one of Steve’s sweaters wrapped securely around your shoulders and the large duvet from your bed laid across your lap. You’d spent the last few hours there, absentmindedly doodling in one of your many notebooks as the small TV across from you droned on and on. Even then time went by excruciatingly slow and as the hours crept by you found yourself just as awake, just as anxious, and just as lonely as ever. 

You didn’t quite know why you felt the way you did. Work had been quieter than usual and there were no new missions in the foreseeable future. Everybody in the tower was relaxed and happy, taking full advantage of their time off. Yet there you were, wide awake and with a hollowing feeling eating away at your chest in the early hours of the morning.

Usually, you enjoyed your time alone. Showing your feelings around the team made you feel weak and vulnerable and in this line of work you were supposed to put up a strong front. That evening, however, you found yourself needing your friends’ company. You placed your book on the seat next to you and stretched, reaching up for the ceiling and exhaling when you felt the small pop.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” you spoke up timidly, waiting for the computer interface to reply. “Is Steve still awake?”

A small smile tugged at your lips and you sat up straighter when you heard her answer. Ready to stand, you readjusting the thick socks that had slipped down to pool around your ankles.

“Where can I find him?” you asked hopefully.

“Captain Rogers is in his room.” Her voice was smooth. “Would you like me to call him for you?”

“No, no.” You gushed, feeling a wave of relief surround you. “I’ll go to him myself. Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

You pulled yourself up off of the couch and allowed the duvet to drop to the floor, shutting the door gently behind you as you left.

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Clichés: Chapter 1

A Reaper/Gabriel Reyes x Reader Office AU fic. Originally written for lilith-chii’s contest, but I couldnt finish it in time and instead sent in a soldier 76 smut piece lol. Still not finished, so it’ll be divided into chapters


Work was busier than usual. So many reporters have been trying to get interviews with the co-presidents of Overwatch since the big announcement of the joining of Overwatch and Talon. Two separate companies suddenly merging together was quite the big fuss. After Rico Reyes passed away last month, ownership of his weapons company was passed to his favorite son, Gabriel. Despite the fact that Gabe had left the family business ten years ago to join Overwatch. Now the billionaire ex vice president of Overwatch was the co-president of… Overwatch. They decided not to change the name. Though Talonwatch does have a ring to it. Or maybe Overtalon? Nah, not as catchy.

Overwatch was a much larger company than Talon, so it’s not entirely unusual for the two to combine. Though it’s less of a combination and more of Overwatch swallowing up the resources Talon provides. As the secretary of the president and vice president (now co-president), you had your hands full. Emails, phone calls, lawyers, and reporters that thought they could just prance in and get an instant meeting with Mister Reyes or Mister Morrison. Such was the case now. A reporter for some women’s magazine just pranced right in and stalked right up to your desk, standing haughtily in front of you.

“I’m here to get an interview with Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes. Now please.” The nameless reporter spoke, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against your desk.

“I’m sorry, but Mister Reyes and Mister Morrison are currently in a very important meeting. I’d be happy to try to add you into their schedule, though.” You informed with a polite (and absolutely fake) smile. She looked appalled, absolutely confused that she had just been told no.

“I’m sure their meeting could wait. I’m from a very important magazine, ‘Eyecandy,’ I’m sure you’ve heard of it, yes? This interview simply can’t wait. Why don’t you go get them and tell them who I am and we can have this interview right now?” The woman didn’t so much ask as she did command.

“Oh, and get me an ice water while you’re at it, will you? I need to use the little ladies’ room.” With the toss of her hair, she turned around and strutted down the hall, where the bathrooms were.

What a bitch. She was obviously raised wealthy, never having been turned down before. She likely used her good looks and demanding attitude to get what she wanted. It was incredibly unlikely that she would leave without speaking to the co-presidents, and you didn’t really want to deal with her any more than you already had. You had work to do. A lot of it. So you got up and went to the meeting room right in between their offices, knocking gently on steel door. No response, only faint mumblings from inside, but the room was rather soundproof.

Taking a chance, you cracked open the door and peeked inside, hoping it would be enough to catch their attention. However, it seems like you walked in on an argument, and it didn’t seem to be a productive one either.

“Su traje es mierda y no le queda, lápiz blanco!”

“Stop yelling at me in Spanish, you know I don’t understand what you’re saying!”

“Estúpido!”

“Ok I understood that.”

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I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind)

Summary: You’re nineteen when you get your first recurring acting role in season twelve of Supernatural. There’s an instant attraction between you and Jared, despite the age difference, but he won’t act on it because of Genevieve. When you meet Gen, she gives you the permission to act on your desires.

Words: 5.8k

Married!Jared x Reader

Warnings: smut (like 2.4k of this is porn), consensual infidelity, age difference, lust, teasing, the whole shebang

A/N: this is one of my fics for @loveitsallineed​‘s 1k celebration playlist challenge, this song was Cola by Lana Del Rey. It’s also a lil birthday gift for the beautiful @oriona75​. And finally, it’s part three of my Birthday Smutathon for @laurivcr​‘s birthday! You can find the masterpost here

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Promises (FE Heroes Fanfic)

Here’s my first Fire Emblem Heroes fanfic. More of a drabble, so please excuse the typos. I’ve fallen into Kiran/Alfonse hell lately thanks to some key conversations in the game.

For reference: my Kiran was a loner before he met the Askr royals, and has anxiety and a bit of social issues as well. He wears the hood pulled down to get distance from the others. This takes place after months of fighting, and toward the end of Chapter 9 in FE Heroes. (I blame @g-r-i-m-a for this.)

______

He’s dead.
Alfonse is dead, and it’s all Kiran’s fault. They all are, and Kiran squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before digging his fingers into the grass and making to rush onto the field.
“Wait,” Anna says, and holds him back. “Wait until they’re gone.”
He doesn’t want to - not with Alfonse’s blood on the ground, on the shining lance of their opponent. But he listens anyway, settling back on his stomach at the top of the hill, where they could observe and direct from a distance.
So weak. Such bad decisions. What good is it to wield Briedablik, if he can’t keep them from death?
Kiran ducks his head into the grass, and breathes the earthy scent until Anna taps him on the shoulder.
He rushes to Alfonse first. Anna says nothing as his panic comes out. He whispers the prince’s name as he presses Breidablik to that too-still chest and pulls the trigger.
It takes three shots, this time.
“Come back,” he whispers. “Alfonse… Please.”
Kiran stares into Alfonse’s wide, unseeing eyes, watching the spark and the light return to them. Only then does he duck into the cowl of his cloak, relief and pain warring with each other.
Kiran smiles as Alfonse’s hand tightens in his, as he comes back to life. He squeezes harder and harder on their clasped hands every time he comes back, or so Kiran thinks.
He rises when Alfonse’s hand slackens, and hurries to the others, pleased when they all come back to life. But in the back of his mind is the fact that he brought them to this point. He may not have swineg the weapon that issued that final blow, but he still did it. He orchestrated this whole battle, from triumphant beginning to bitter end. If he had just been a better tactician, none of this would have happened. He squeezes his jaw and his hands, standing to the side as the dead come back to life.
Suddenly, Alfonse is there, lifting the corner of his hood and peeking in, soft blue eyes lidded slightly with affection. Kiran swallows a gasp and swats the prince’s hand away, capturing his slender wrist to keep him from pulling away.
Alfonse freezes, and Kiran takes a few breaths, praying for his voice to go normal, to not sound like he’s crying. He hoped the prince of Askr won’t speak before he is able to. And for some reason, he doesn’t. He waits, sending that Kiran has something to say.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” he whispers eventually.
“Kiran,” Alfonse says. His voice is soft and warm like a plush down comforter that he can just burrow into. “You didn’t fail. Things like this happen.”
“I… I don’t want to lose you.” The words squeak out of Kiran. “My heart leaps whenever you fall.”
“I come back to you,” Alfonse says, and takes his hand. “I wait for you. I feel you calling to me to stay.”
That only makes him feel worse. Kiran drops Alfonse’s wrist and draws his bottom lip in, a subconscious effort to keep from crying.
“Kiran,” Alfonse says, and there’s meaning to it. “Look at me.”
When Alfonse pulls back the cowl, Kiran lets him. Alfonse’s fingers run back through his hair when the hood is off, and then down his cheek.
“I’ll always come back to you,” Alfonse promises.
Kiran looks up from Alfonse’s golden pin, holding his cloak in place. He looks into those blue eyes, and he sees that promise, and deeper, the ache of passing through the curtain of death and back to him. Alfonse touches his face and his thumb trails along his bottom lip.
“Always,” Alfonse promises, and there’s none of that holding back, like there was at the beginning, when Kiran first met Alfonse and Shareena. He’s let another Hero in, and Kiran realizes with a start that it’s him. Alfonse cares for him.
The prince ducks close - he’s taller than Kiran by a few inches - and presses their foreheads together. “Always,” he says again.
An ache within Kiran’s chest eases, and he relaxes into Alfonse’s hand.
He touches the prince’s chest, feeling his heart beating beneath the armor. “Then I’ll always come to bring you back,” he promises back.
His eyes are closed, but he can feel Alfonse’s pleased smile like the warmth of sunlight, beaming across his face. Kiran smiles too, smiles back, and prays to whatever gods the Askr believe in that they can both keep their promises.

Kitten

Okay you guys I was really naughty…Instead of a chapter update here is my first ever oneshot! I was going to do a Xiumin one first but someone suggested a Kyungsoo wolf au and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I hope you enjoy it if not let me know if something didn’t make sense!

Summary: Eunbi is a shifter who catches a delicious scent that belongs to a sexy man who looks out of place at the club she works at. What is this serious looking man doing in a place like this? The killer look in his eyes tells her he is on a mission.

Word count: 4046

Kyungsoo x OC


I grip the bars of the cage, growling loudly at the man who has been trying to grope me through the bars for the last thirty minutes. He jumps away surprised by the sound, of course, most humans are. But he snaps back quickly mumbling under his breath.

“Kitty can growl,” He muses, not expecting me to hear over the booming music, but of course I did. “Bitch wouldn’t be so brave if she wasn’t in the fucking cage.”

An amuse smirk graces my face, showing him my fangs as I slowly crouch down, “They have me in here for your protection, not mine.” I hiss at him, showing loud and clear I want nothing to do with him and his rotten smell.

Once again he jumps back, “Crazy bitch!”

The smile never leaves my face as I slowly stand up straight, making sure to stick my ass out as I go. The music switches to something with a faster beat, my friend not to far away howls loudly from her own cage before she begins thrashing to the music. I see her yellow eyes glow in the darkness, I’m sure she can see mine glowing their usual blue. I chuckle at the sight of her chucking her massive heels into the crowd, not caring if they hit someone, they were in the way of her wolf working her cage. Mine had been lost long before these early morning hours amongst the disgusting men who took them for god knows what reason.

I don’t mind really, I would have kicked them out at some point, my tigress purred with satisfaction the moment I took them off and began working my cage how I should, like the animal I am. I move my body to the music, whipping my long black hair around happily, enjoying the chaos around me. My cage is placed on podium in the middle of the dance floor about five feet up, allowing me to see everyone on the dance floor and at the bar. The hoards of people around me, some human some shifters, some other things I’m not sure about but know for sure they aren’t either of the two listed above. They smother each other in pheromones making the whole warehouse reek of sex.

The people wear many different things, none of it covers much skin though, but who am I to talk. Tonight we are belly dancers, golden bras encrusted with red gems and matching bottoms with the long mesh skirt and jingling sequence. I twirl a few times, just enjoying how the outfit moves when I catch a scent. The familiar scent sneaks into my mind and consumes it, my body buzzes, my body keeps moving to the music but my mind is somewhere else. I slyly scan the crowd for a familiar pale man and his companions, regardless of the fact that the scent is not his own it’s the only place I can find the addicting aroma.

Like chocolate and sweets.

It’s driving me fucking insane. It’s stronger this time, telling me the actual owner of this delicious scent is here, he is fucking here. Why the hell did I agree to be in the cage today? I growl at myself, frightening a few patrons by my feet but I don’t care I need to find out who this is coming from. The music slows down once again, turning the crowd from a mob of chaos to just one of grinding and sex. My hips move slowly to the music, masters at their work they draw all sorts of attention to me. The scent slowly mixes with arousal, my eyes scan over the crowd once more as my tongue drags along my lips.

I spot him.

He’s completely out of place amongst the half naked crowd in a three piece suit. There is a drink in his hand and pretty little slut on his arm but his eyes are fixated on me. It takes all of myself control and the strength of the shifter proof bars to keep me from getting out of this fucking cage and tearing that girl to pieces. I catch myself for moment, where the hell did this come from? I’m not a territorial person, I share an apartment, a car, my clothes, my food, there is nothing I really keep to myself, until now I guess because I want him.

Mine.

My mind screams.

Mine!

My anger and desire to get out becomes more pathetic, a small whine escapes me when the slut giggles and strokes his cheek. To my surprise he is on his feet, pushing the girl away he finally makes his way through the crowd to me. Even though I’m completely over joyed that his delicious scent is coming over, fear settles in the pit of my stomach when I feel his dominance and  anger pouring out of him. The crowd parts for him like the red sea, the other shifters in the crowd pull the humans with them to keep them from the murderous look in the man’s eyes. Man, I want to scoff at myself, he is a beast, werewolf through and through, fucking great. My tigress is confused on how to feel, my initial instinct is to hiss at the wolf prowling towards me but at the same time I’m ready to jump him.

Eyes as black as coal stare me down, I drop to my knees so our faces are much closer allowing me to see more than I could when he was in the dark bar area. I lean down on my elbows allowing my hands to slip through the bars and rest his cheeks. My fingers feel a long his masculine jaw line, grinning when I think of how I’m going to mark up that neck of his. A pink tongue runs across those heart shaped, drawing my attention back to his features, round eyes and a small nose. Brown hair that is gelled back out his handsome face seems a bit more messed up than I imagine it should be, as if he has been running his hands through it all day. His cheeks get warmer under my hands, a pink hue cross them as I continue to study him. I find myself leaning in closer, pulling him closer as I move, just barely through the bars I manage to graze his lips with my own. It’s a small touch but it causes a snarl to start in his chest. His eyes glow a blood red.

Fucking great.

An alpha.

But at this point I’m too turned on to care about anything other than getting out of this cage and getting someplace where this wolf can show me how much of an alpha he really is.

“As much as I would love to play with you Mr. Wolf I’m a bit stuck,” I muse obviously breathless., taking ahand away to shake the bars, showing their lack of mobility.

He only hums in response, making me frown, I want to hear the voice behind those pink lips. His eyes scan over the cage, he grabs one of the bars and shakes it, it doesn’t give.

“Told you, unless you are like the strongest werewolf imaginable I’m not getting out of here,” This time I’m less amused and more frustrated. “Mr. Wolf please get me out, I’m dying in here.”

His growl echoes once more.

“Okay, I’m not actually dying but I’m dying to get out of this cage so I can fucking grab you by the neck and kiss you properly,” I confess, a bit embarrassed that some random stranger can get me hot an bothered like this without even touching me. “If you can get me out of here I’m all yours,” I promise, hating myself for basically begging. But that seems to be all he needs to grab on to two of the bars and pull them apart, giving me enough space to squeeze through. I stare dumb struck for a moment as he does it without a problem, from my personal experience it should have definitely been a problem so when he offers me his hand to get down suddenly I’m hesitant.

He lets out a hearty chuckle that warms my chest, “I was promised something and I’m not leaving without it.”

“Um, Mr. Wolf, you aren’t Mr. Big Bad Wolf, are you?” I half heartedly tease, praying I’m not handing myself over to some crazy wolf.

He cocks his head, “If I am?”

I gulp.

“Okay Kitten you have until the count of five to take my hand before I climb in there and let me tell you something,” He leans closer, “I’ve always wanted to claim someone in front of a crowd. Have them all listen as you scream my name,” That voice has me almost coming undone right then and there. “One… Two… Three… Four…”

I’m sliding through the bars and into his arms before he has the chance to follow through on his dream. He smiles triumphantly, keeping one arm wrapped around my shoulders possessively as he leads me towards the exit. Once again the crowd parts for us, for him, no one dares to even look in our direction until we reach the door where the bouncer steps in front of us. I know the large man well, he’s one of our few human bouncers so of course he doesn’t notice the threatening pheromones rolling off my partner in waves. He blocks the doorway with his large body, regardless of the fact that he is half a foot taller and at least fifty pounds heavier than my partner I have no doubt the alpha could tear him to pieces.

I give the bouncer a begging smile hopping he will get the hint and realize I’m not being kidnapped, at least not really. But he doesn’t and reaches for me, “Where the hell do you think you are going with one of our dancers?” The bouncer snaps.

The alpha quickly pushes me behind him, he grabs the bouncer’s hand in his own and stares the man down as his grip tightens, slowly crushing the bouncer’s fist. I quickly get back in between them, ingoring the alpha’s free hand that is trying to drag me behind him again and grab on to the tie around his neck. I wrap my hands around it a few times bringing him to my level, our foreheads pressed together.

His red eyes bore into mine, “Kitten,” He warns with a deep growl.

“Lets go,” I half beg, hopping not to cause a scene.

“He tried to take you,” The alpha snarls, his eyes flick to the bouncer who is on his knees behind me, whimpering in pain.

“Look at me,” I command, “Let him go.” A sigh of relief leaves me, allowing me to smile. I let his tie unwrap a few times but keep a solid grip on the end and tug him gently. “Come on,” I muse playfully, urging him on like puppy. As much as I can tell his wolf doesn’t like it he obeys and follows me out of the warehouse to where all the cars are parked. “I assume you drove?” I turn to face him, his eyes are fixed on my hand still holding the end of his tie. I let it go and awkwardly laugh, not sure if I crossed a line, though I have no idea where the lines are at all at the moment. He grabs my hand and leads me to the obviously most expensive thing in a mile radius of this side of town. He leads me to the passengers side door of the imported sports car, I expect him to open the door for me but instead he pins me against it. His hands on either side of me gripping the car until his knuckles are white. Those glowing red eyes are once again fixated on me.

“Don’t ever do that again,” He warns.

I puff out my cheeks, “Sorry, I just was trying to be playful.”

He snarls, “Not that. Don’t ever try to get in between me and someone who is trying to take you away. Most people who try to take what is mine are lucky to get away with their lives, but anyone who dares to try and take you are lucky to just get their throats ripped out, understand?”

“So you are saying that…”

“You are mine.”

My tigress purrs.

“Now get in the car before I take you right here and now.” He turns and rushes to get in his own door. Turning around I see that his grip has left dents on the top of the car, I snicker, though it would be a lie to say my body isn’t vibrating with excitement. The possessiveness in his words makes me have to press my thighs together, what the fuck is this man doing to me. His engine roars to life and he speeds out of the parking lot and down the road to the main part of Seoul. It’s awkwardly silent for most of the drive, my legs are trembling and his knuckles are white from gripping the stirring wheel.

“So, should we tell each other names or are you more of the one and done, don’t need to know names, kind of guy?” I muse awkwardly.

“One and done?” He gives me a side-glance with those fucking eyes.

“I know you said, ‘you are mine’, but I don’t know if that’s just a thing wolves did to get laid.” He pulls into an underground garage and parks his car. He doesn’t acknowledge me at all as he climbs out of the car. I groan and rest my head against the dash, “Maybe he wasn’t questioning what it meant and was just telling me what he wanted as if it was obvious. I hate wolves.”

He rips open my car door and pulls me out. Without a word and drags me to the elevator and refuses to let me go the whole ride up to the top floor, penthouse, of course. Fucking Alphas. The minute we reach his floor he drags me out into a hall way and up to a pair of double doors that I assume lead to his apartment, and like in the elevator he refuses to let me go until with are inside. Once the doors are closed I’m pressed against them, he pins my hands on either side of my head, his body presses against mine.

“You hate wolves?” He muses.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I pout, regardless of the position we are in at the moment.

“One and done?” He echoes once again.

It would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt me to hear him say that.

“What a stupid thing to even suggest,” He chuckles as his nose runs along my jaw. “Wolves mate for life,” He punctuates that sentence with his fangs pressed firmly against my neck.

Mate.

My tigress roars.

Of fucking course he is my mate, that is why I’ve wanted nothing more than for him to fuck me since the moment I saw him. The realization has me growling, “Why he hell couldn’t you have said that sooner? I wouldn’t have put up such a fight if I had know you were my mate and not some stranger who just has me hot and bothered!”

He chuckles, “What kind of fight did you put up? It was so easy to just steel you away.” I gulp when I feel his fangs run along my neck, “It’s like you were just begging to be snatched up, Kitten.”

“Eunbi,” I blurt out.

He hums, “Kyungsoo.”

“Kyungsoo,” I test the name out on my tongue.

He groans from his place in the crook of my neck, “Say it again.”

“Kyungsoo,” I say a bit more breathless this time. Suddenly he has me over his shoulder caring me through his apartment that I would actually like to look around in but apparently at a different time. I’m laid down on a massive bed, he stares down at me, putting all his weight on his one arm so his free hand can stroke my cheek gently.

“I promise that I will take the time to make love to you gently and romantically, but not today. Tonight I have watched dozens of men eye fuck you, my wolf is going insane with jealousy, I need to be inside you.”

I chuckle as I slowly open my legs a bit more, “All you had to do was say so.” He leans down and kisses me like his life depends on it. It’s not soft or gentle, it’s pure animal, tongues battle for dominance, I try even though I have no chance at beating him. That doesn’t stop me from cheating and pushing his elbow so I can flip him over and have the upper hand for a moment. To my surprise he doesn’t throw a fit, too focused on the intense make out session we are in. I pull away, ignoring the whine that he makes, to pull off my annoying shirt, if you can call it that. I reach for his but he seems too much rather go back to kissing and pulls me back in. With one hand gripping the back of my neck, keeping our lips pressed together, the others finds its way to my hip.

“Off,” I demand between kissing, pulling at his suit jacket and button up. He ignores me and tries to work on getting my bottoms off. I growl and shamelessly tear away his expensive looking shirt and the t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned chest. I escape his lips once more to leave kisses cross his jaw and down his neck, basking in the groans and snarls leaving his perfect lips. His other hand meets it’s partner on my other hip, holding me still as his own hips rut up against mine. I have to pause, my face pressed into the crook of his neck, in an attempt to control myself.

“Give me one fucking second to have some kind of foreplay,” I snarl wanting to enjoy the moment a bit more before jumping into it. This is my first time with an alpha and my mate, I want to take my time.

But his hips rutting once again is his response to that, “Too long. I need you now.” He rolls us back over, managing to capture my hands and pin the above my head with one hand. His other hand reaches for my bottoms and tears them away with ease, tossing them somewhere on the floor. I can’t keep myself from watching as he slowly undoes his belt and his pants. I know he is watching me, waiting for a reaction when he pulls his manhood out; he is not disappointed. My jaw drops, I knew wolves were supposed to be big but I wasn’t expecting this. He pumps himself a few times chuckling, “What’s wrong Kitten, too much for you?”

I glare at his smug face, “We will have to find out won’t we, now stop staring.”

“Are you ready?”

I gulp as wiggle my hands free and pull his face closer, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, taking a moment to breath in his delicious scent that not just turns me on but relaxes my erratic heart. “I’m ready,” I mumble.

“Where did that confidence go?” He muses softly, loosing his own cockiness.

“It’s come back, I just preparing myself,” I peek down once again, he positions himself at my entrance. “Be gentle at first at least, okay?”

His domineering wolfishness seems to fade, he copies my actions, burring his face in the crook of my neck, “Of course.” I take a few deep breaths before he plunges all the way into me in one thrust. A whimper escapes my lips, he stretches me more than I have been before. My claws dig into his back as I try to deal with the pain of such a huge intruder. He wraps his arms around me, resting his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing me. He does his best to comfort me but I don’t miss the way his body trembles, how tense his body is or the growl vibrating in his chest.

He is struggling to control himself. It’s obvious as he holds me closer, almost crushing me in his iron clad embrace, “You can move.” I encourage, hoping it will just get better once things start going.

“Are you sure?” He groans through grit teeth.

“Take the offer before have the chance to take it back.”

That is all the encouragement he needs to slowly pull and push back in at the same pace. It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, it’s more of a burning feeling now, it’s bearable. But for him, his wolf seems to be over the moon. The beast growls with satisfaction, making the pain worth it. After a few more stretching thrusts I feel something deep inside of me tingle.

I moan.

“There,” I mumble. “Again.” He obeys and thrusts a bit harder this time, hitting the same place again, this time head on. “Fuck! Right there!”

“As you wish,” He chuckles, his grip on me tightens as his picks up the pace. I wrap my legs around his waist, allowing him to reach deeper. Our moans fill the room, I encourage him to go faster and faster, demanding him to go harder until the only thing I can scream is his name. His wolf roars pounding into me like the animal he is. I’ve never felt something like this, the knot growing in the pit of my stomach is more intense than I’ve ever felt before. It doesn’t take very long for his thrusts to become sporadic.

The moment his teeth dig into my neck, marking me as his mate I come undone. After a few more thrust he fills me with his cum, staining my walls white. I feel utterly spent, relaxing back against the bed but the moment I shift I realize that his manhood is still hard inside of me. He notices my sudden shift and chuckles.

“You thought we would be done after one round?” He licks the bite mark on my neck. “We have a lot to catch up on, I have been looking for you for a long time, I have many things I would like to do to you before we rest.”

I gulp


Kyungsoo’s POV

I watch her from the edge of the bed, a small smile on my face. Her small frame is wrapped in the thick blanket, her pure white hair splayed out on the pillow her head rests on. I glance at the black wig on the floor then back to my sleeping mate, her cat ears sticking out on top of her head, white with black tips. I make to mental note to ask her about that, most shifters aren’t able to shift only parts of their bodies, I wonder briefly if that is why she wears the wig. I already have a long list of questions to asker her once she wakes up, starting with her surname. I was in such a jealous rage last night that I didn’t even ask her the basic questions, god I’m a shitty mate already.

The moment I picked up her scent yesterday morning on my younger brother, Sehun, my wolf was enraged to find her scent on another alpha. After almost tearing him apart he admitted he had went to that club for a good time and thankfully didn’t get it with my little kitten, though he did get a lap dance much to my displeasure. My wolf snarls just at the thought. It’s a small noise but it’s enough to make her pop up, confused and sleepy, it’s honestly adorable.

“Good morning,” I chuckle awkwardly, not sure if it’s okay that I was watching her while she slept.

She runs her hand threw her hair and yawns, “Good morning Mr. Wolf.”

I cock an eyebrow at her, “Mr. Wolf?”

“I’m assuming you’re older than me but I’m not going to call you Oppa without being sure.”

“Trust me Kitten, I’m your oppa.”

She nods, “I figured, so how old are you? Should I be calling you grandpa instead?”

“You are looking for trouble,” I warn.

“Too high, how about something in the middle, daddy?”

My cock twitches, “Kitten.”

She looks away innocently, “So something else than, should we talk about how we are going to get in trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“I know that wolves aren’t too fond of mixing with other shifters, your council of elders has something against the rest of us. I’m assuming they won’t want a handsome wolf like yourself mingling with a lowly tiger like me, mates or not.”

I hum, “They won’t be a problem.”

“What?”

“They won’t be a problem,” I repeat.

“How do you know? Don’t tell me your daddy is on it,” She teases.

It takes all of myself control to not say, no, but your daddy is. Instead I say, “Nope, I am.”

Her jaw drops, “Wow,” I’m expecting her to be proud of how strong I am but I’m an idiot for hoping for that much. “You must be really old!”

I click my tongue at her, “You must really be a kitten.”

She nods, “I’m only 23.”

“23 what?”

“Just 23 years old.”

Oh god I feel like a pervert, “That explains why it took me so long to find you.”

“Also I assume you don’t spend your time in clubs like that.”

I nod, “You wound be right, I was there on a mission.”

“A mission,” She muses, “to woo me?”

I chuckle, “I guess yes. Though wooing you wasn’t really a necessity,” I admit.

“So you were just going to snatch me up whether I liked or not?”

I nod as I slowly make my way to her, “The minute I caught your scent I knew I was going to take you home and never let you go.”

“So what are the chances of me making it out of this apartment today?”

I cup her cheeks in my hands and bring her lips to mine, kissing them softly, “Absolutely none.”


 I don’t know if this is a good one shot or not. If you guys really like it I might make a part 2 if requested! Please let me know how you feel about it!

AA!SteveTony - the one where the married dorks get on to becoming married dorks. Continued from this fic.
For @ishipallthings <33

Word Count: ~1500
Warnings: None, only fluff

Steve opened his eyes with a start in the room he claimed as his in the SHIELD facility that the Avengers were temporarily calling home. The room was little more than a barracks; it should have been familiar, but nothing had felt familiar in a while.  

Brows drawn in concentration, Steve focused on where he knew the speakers were located.  

“Tony?” he rasped up at the ceiling, staring blindly into the dark. When there was no answer, he murmured wryly, “I’m losing sleep because of you.”

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At Swords Points

Part II

Part I


Riskua the redhead is quite pretty, Ace’s decided.

He doesn’t know what it is (because those eyes have put more than a few of his brothers off already) but there’s… something about her.

She’s sitting upon the railings of the Moby right now, looking out to sea with her long red hair pulled up into a high pony, the sun catching on the exposed tanned skin of her legs… Yeah, there’s something about her.

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Not One, But Two (Part VII)

Summary: It all started on that night when you and Jay were both too drunk to remember anything. You resigned from your job and left Seoul with a secret. Now you’re back and ready to tell Jay about them, but doing so means sharing their lives and putting his career and love life on the line.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI |

“You’re lying,” Jukyung accused, returning Jay’s phone to him.

“I’m not!” Jay snorted.

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I’m not lying—” Jay sighed, still seeing the disbelief manifested by Jukyung’s expression and tone. “I’m their dad. You saw it. Jaeyoung looks a lot like me.”

“Jaeyoung?” Sunghwa asked.

“He’s the boy. Suri’s his sister. He’s older than her by just a minute. I wasn’t there when they were born. I only found out about them a couple of months ago,” Jay said.

“But how? Wasn’t she in the states with her family these past few years? Did you visit her when you went there?” Hyukwoo asked.

“No, I didn’t see her until she came back. It was before she left,” Jay replied.

“So if you’re telling us the truth, then that means that—” Sunghwa counted with his fingers, “she was pregnant when she left?”

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