but i hate every picture that came out from the match except his one so

New Man



summary: it’s been a year, and dan and phil haven’t spoken since the night the door had slammed and their relationship was placed on its deathbed. dan knows phil isn’t happy. dan knows andrew isn’t phil’s type. he knows there are fewer things phil would rather do less than spend his free time in the gym, eat kale, and drive cars that probably cost more than his house. dan isn’t happy either, but there’s little he can do other than watch phil’s new life blossom from behind the glass of a phone screen.

(aka basically a fic based on ed sheeran’s absolute Banger of a song new man I highly recommend)

word count: 7k

warnings: alcohol, brief mention of smoking


“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

He freezes, his heart thudding.


“Are you around at all?” Phil prompts, and the lack of hesitation in his voice is almost disconcerting.

Dan skips a beat. He knows this is only the vodka talking, only the alcohol unzipping Phil’s reserved exterior and giving way to a pushy, over-enthusiastic and giggly side to his character, but there’s a part of him, albeit a very small part buried deep down, that desperately wants to say yes.

“Um-“ Dan gulps, his chest thumping. “Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he sighs. “Let’s face it. We haven’t spoken in months, about anything, and you just pop up and phone me completely out of nowhere,” he gulps, before adding in a lower voice, “and it’s not like we ended on brilliant terms, either.”

“Which is why I’m saying we should meet up now,” Phil urges. “We both miss each other, don’t we?”

He’s twenty weeks deep, and apparently they went to Paris last summer.

His thumb slides idly along the glass, scrolling through filtered picture after filtered picture. The Eiffel Tower. The Louvre. A familiar face beside the River Seine, the city lights stretching into amber ribbons on the water’s surface. Some expensive-looking car parked on the side of the road, white shine and blacked-out windows. White wine on the balcony, the sunset a pastel cascade over the city. It looks as if they had a good time.

He lurks with great care, monitoring the movement of every muscle in his thumb in hopes of avoiding the dreaded double tap. Accidentally liking your ex’s new boyfriend’s pictures in itself is certainly one thing, but ones dating way back over five months ago is another.

It’s harder to look at Phil’s Instagram that far back. When there’s a red heart below the picture instead of a transparent one, it takes him a while to figure out whether or not he’d already liked the picture or if he’d slipped up.

He scrolls more. Cars, cars, four tattooed guys at some exotic-looking bar wearing matching grins, a beach, more fucking cars, gym selfie, gym selfie, and-

What the fuck?

He frowns at his phone screen, peering into the glass with narrowed eyes like he’s seeing properly for the first time.

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anonymous asked:

Boi, hi, I've been waiting for this. Could I request the RFA boys (+ V & Searan)'s reactions to finding out MC is a Victoria's Secret model and finding out by MC dragging them to a show before disappearing leaving them sitting alone for awhile before they walk out and yeah (I'm so sorry this is so long and I totally get if you don't want to write this. Have a great day!)

A/N: b o i you sent this in literally *right* after I opened requests and I giGGLED SO HARD AT YOUR ENTHUSIASM it really made my day, so i hope you like this ~Admin 404



               -He was already red as hell and nervously sweating when you just mentioned taking him to the show

               -“Isn’t Victoria Secret that one… you know… sexy clothing store?”

               - yes, yes it is

               -The whole way there, he’s muttering to himself

               -Honestly trying to hold back tears because he feels so awkward

               -Wants to look at you and only you!! He doesn’t want you to feel bad about him looking at other partially naked women


               -Holds onto your wrist when you try to leave him there alone and you have to drag him a little bit before telling him that he’d be fine and you’d be back in just a little bit

               -He tries to fold himself up as much as possible to hide himself from the people giving him weird looks

               - it didn’t help

               -When the show started, a small shriek rose up from the back of his throat and he covered his eyes with his hands, though he peeked through his fingers because his curiosity got the best of him

               -But the first person he saw was you? And you were in some absolutely gorgeous, lacey, and very short nightgowns? Where are your pants? Are you in jUST UNDERWEAR? ARE THOSE WINGS??

               -The poor boy has a full blown nose bleed. His face is as red as Saeyoung’s hair. He’s stuttering and muttering to himself because he has absolutely no (comprehensive) words

               -He struggles to look you in the eye after the show! Kept trying for a solid hour to compliment you but the words kept getting stuck on his tongue.

               -That night he held you cautiously, but still close enough to feel his heart race

               -Like, wow, he’s dating a mODEL! He knew you were beautiful inside and out but it’s just amAZING! He would have never expected it


               -“Why are we going to a fashion show?”

               -“I’m beautiful, I should be one of the models!”

               - thanks for being modest zen

               -You didn’t tell him what kind of fashion show, but he agreed to go anyway

               -Famous people are always seen at these things, he feels like he fits in!

               -He was so ready to compliment the hell out of you to make sure you know he’s got all eyes for you

               -But when he turned back to you, you were gone?

               -P A N I C

               -Before he could look around for you though, the show started

               -And the people behind him were grumbling about him being in their way so he sat down and silently hoped that maybe you just excused yourself to the restroom

               -But as the show started, he watched as multiple models walked out in different sorts of lingerie

               -He felt so AWKWARD! He just wanted you to come back so he could focus on you instead of these other wome-

               -There was one model that captured his eye and he thought she was just absolutely breathtaking. Just by the curve of your face, let alone your hips, he knew it was you

               -He couldn’t help himself, he cheered for you like it was a football game people had to pull him down to his seat

               -He practically lifted you into the air and spun you around afterwards, showering you in more compliments than usual (which is a lot). Reminded you constantly throughout the rest of the night how proud he was of you!

               -Also had to use all of his willpower to fight the inner beast the rest of the night


               -She’s always wanted to attend fashion shows, but has always been way too busy

               -Not to mention she didn’t even get to go to any for work reasons damn jumin

               -So she was extremely excited to hear that you were going to bring her to one!

               -She likes any and all information about where the two of you go so she was very shaken by the fact that you wouldn’t tell her what kind of show this was

               -What if it was a super fancy fashion show and she wasn’t presentable? What if it was super casual and she’s too dressed up? WHAT IF IT WAS SECRETLY A STRIP CLUB AND YOU DIDN’T TELL HER

               -She was trying to get you to give her hints about what kind of show this was

               -Actually got frustrated when you didn’t give her any sort of hint

               - acts like a child and pouts, completely ignoring you

               -Simply nods her head in acknowledgement when you excuse yourself

               -The music started to play not long after that and she started to get really giggly and excited! But there was no sign of you?

               -She figured she would just record the show until you made it back, so you could watch it later on when you were home!

               -The moment she got her phone ready, she hit record and looked down at the lit up screen

               -But when she did look, all she saw was you? Walking down the catwalk? In some very revealing lingerie?

               -Had to do a double-take from the screen and up at the stage to make sure it was truly you

               -And holy shit??? Like, you go girl?? 10/10 she was so excited to see you up there, strutting your stuff!

               -Any outfit you had modeled, she planned on buying matching outfits for the two of you as soon as possible


               -He’s tried to avoid any type of show at all costs

               -It’s just not his type of scene, you know?

               -Watching all these women strut around in ridiculous outfits, acting high and mighty, wanting nothing but attention (so he thought)

               -He just wanted to take this day off, sit at home with his precious girls (you and Elizabeth, obviously), and relax

               -Instead, you had begged him to come to this show, which you wouldn’t even tell him the theme of

               -And of course he agreed, you’re his beloved and he wanted to do anything he could to make you happy

               -If that meant he had to watch this agonizing show, then he would

               - he only wished he could have his wine as well

               - honestly thought about sneaking in a flask because he hated these things that much

               -Whined like a child when you told him to stay put because you’d be right back

               -“But MC! I dislike these things, you can’t truly expect me to stay here alone, can you?”

               -You left anyway, and found your way to the stage, only to walk out and see Mr. Trustfund Kid’s jaw clench- his whole body moving forward to the edge of his seat, a hand covering his mouth and his eyebrows knitted together

               -He was pleasantly surprised to see you walk out in some gorgeous lingerie

               -But he was also immediately jealous of every other pair of eyes that set on you and your body

               -He swore to himself that you’ll know for sure that you’re his and only his later that night

               -Not to mention that every set of lingerie featured in the show would soon be in your closet for a private, up-close showing for him and only him


               -He doesn’t get out much

               -But if you wanna go somewhere, then he! Is! Going! Somewhere!

               -Whatever you want to do, he will do it for you!

               -You want to go to some sort of fashion show?

               -He probably won’t enjoy it, since it’s not really something he’s into, but he will still go with you to make you happy

               -Every fashion show he’s ever seen had such ridiculous outfits

               -He’s hoping they’re just as terrible this time so he has something to make jokes about and keep himself entertained

               -Lowkey threw a hissy fit when you told him you were leaving for a little bit

               -He was there for you! You can’t leave

               -“Fine if you won’t sit and stay then I’ll make fun of the outfits by myself”

               -When the music started he sat forward, completely ready to slaughter the first outfit with insults

               -Except it was really cute. And sexy. And oN YOU.

               -He literally fell out of his chair onto the floor, people had to help him get back up

               -Not before he turned as red as his hair, though

               -From then on, every time you came on stage, he would whoop and howl, causing you to almost lose your cool a couple of times

               - ends up surprising you weeks later wearing that same lingerie for you, wink wonk


               -He’s been to many shows

               -Well okay he’s photographed many shows

               -Never sat and enjoyed one himself

               -But completely willing to go with you! He enjoys the art of the fashion

               -Doesn’t even matter what kind of show, he is 500% ready and willing to go

               -Of course he has his camera too, but not to take pictures of the models!

               -He wanted to take pictures of your reactions, how the bright lights shine on your face, how you can see the passion in your eyes

               -HE WAS SO EXCITED, AAAAAA

               -When the music started he was worried about you missing the show

               -He didn’t want to photograph the sadness in your eyes!

               -But he looked up at the stage to see you, walking out from behind the curtain with upmost confidence

               -Shining bright, dripping in sexiness, and giving off a “I’m a badass” vibe

               -And he. was. lOVING IT.

               -It made him so nervous to see his precious angel like that but he knew he couldn’t miss the opportunity

               -So every time you came out in any outfit, he was sure to take the most amazing photos of you, in an attempt to capture how much love he has for you in each one

               - wants a private photoshoot behind the scenes afterwards, wink wonk


               -You thought Saeyoung hating getting out of the house?

               -We all know Saeran is 10 times worse

               -You are physically dragging him to this show because he’s so against it

               -“Why the fuck would I want to watch people parading around the stage in stupid outfits”

               -Because?? Just go with me anyway??

               -He’s holding onto your arm, letting his feet drag against the floor when you try to leave him in the crowd alone

               -“Saeran I need to go do something!” “Oh no, you are NOT leaving me alone with ALL THESE PEOPLE”

               -You did leave him alone though, and he is LIVID.

               -He planned on not talking to you for the remainder of the night because of it. Maybe he’d keep up the silent treatment until tomorrow. Who knows?

               -The loud music started to play and he already hated everything about this

               -He watched as a few women walked out on stage, each in a progressively more revealing outfit

               -Until his arms unfolded when he saw you in this sexy bra and panties set

               -Matching them to the large wings hanging behind you

               -Immediately snapping photos on his phone for later blackmail

               - and also using them as research references to get those outfits for later

               - practically pounces you behind the stage, attacking your whole body in kisses



A/N: This was heavily influenced by Baby Driver, the movie. If you’ve seen it you know what I’m talking about.

Warnings: Strong language, Smut

Word Count: 1,947

Originally posted by zeusmayo

I tapped my chipped ruby red nails against the counter of the bar, staring at the neon sign that read “Open”. I looked down at my nametag, the little rectangle tilting down. I adjusted it on the black uniform, and smoothed out my skirt. I had to wear the same black button up with white trim and matching skirt every time I came into work. I guess that’s what I get for working at a diner. I started to walk up and down the booths that were unoccupied, desperately hoping someone would walk in so that I could do something. I sat down on one of the plastic covered leather benches, resting my head in my hands. A few seconds later, a bell caused me to raise my head.

It was the sound that told the workers someone was here. Finally. I got up from my booth and turned to see who had walked in. It was a boy, his wavy brown hair sat neatly atop his head, his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. He was wearing a black hoodie making him look lazily put together. His eyes were wandering around the restaurant as mine were wandering around him. His were dark and mysterious, the contrast of his skin striking. He had red lips, the bottom one pulled between his teeth.

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Yours, Unfaithfully [Chapter 3]

Originally posted by jacksonisjbssin

Chapter 3 of Yours, Unfaithfully

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

Series Genre: AU/Angst/Smut/Fluff

Jaebum grabbed the keys from your trembling hand, letting go of you as he let the both of you into your apartment.

You followed closely behind, hand firmly grasping his as he led you.

“Arms out,” he requested, helping you out of your gown.

He let the gorgeous material pool at your feet, lifting out of it and into his arms. He carried you, as he had done many a time to your bedroom, cradling you against his chest.

As you crossed the threshold of your door, he gently set you down, still keeping you in his grasp.

You returned his gesture, helping him out of his jacket and tie before unbuttoning his shirt and discarding of it on the floor. Next came his pants, then your bra, his briefs, your panties.

With each item of clothing shed, a kiss was given, a touch was exchanged, all without a word. You both understood what the other wanted in that moment and that was to feel loved, to be desired by each other.

There had been many times you and Jaebum admired each other’s naked forms in this bedroom. He had thrown you up against almost every surface in here, made you cry from absolute pleasure, heard you scream his name as he did the most sinful things that made you crave more. But tonight was different. Tonight was slower, softer. Tonight, he wanted to make love.

You found yourself face up on your mattress, legs wrapped around your lover’s waist as he soft lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck.

You whimpered each time they found purchase on your skin, loving the feel of being his.

He groaned as he pushed into you with ease. Your wet walls around him felt like heaven and he never wanted to retreat.

Soft pants and heavy breathing filled the room as he continually thrust into you, kissing you deeper each time his name escaped your lips.

Your hands clung to his perfectly defined back, egging him on as your nails dug into it, begging for your climax.

“I love you,” he groaned. The feeling of your wetness pulsating drove him right to the brink.

“I love you!” you moaned, letting the sweet euphoria he always delivered take hold of you.

Your vision went blurry as he continued his movements until the both of you had endured every possible second of sweet release.

He breathed deeply, trying to pull himself towards recovery as he slid out of you.

Resting on his back, he brought you to him, kissing you over and over until he was satisfied you knew just how special you were to him.

You clung desperately to him, never wanting to be without this. You needed him. You loved him. And he felt the same.

Minutes passed as the silence remained between you. Nothing else needed to be said and honestly, neither of you wanted to ruin the serenity you had built in your own little hideaway.

In here, the outside didn’t exist. It was just you and him.

You stirred awake, restless from the nightmares that plagued you throughout the night. In each of them, Jaebum slipped away from you just as you were about to reach him. The thought alone shook you to your core.

You turned, needing him to hold you and tell you that would never happen, somehow you two would find a way to be together. But when you did, you found the space beside you void of the man you loved. Where had he gone?

His clothes were nowhere to be found and his phone wasn’t on the nightstand where he usually left it.

You rolled out of bed, searching the rest of your apartment for him. Still nothing.

Your heart sank. It wasn’t like him to leave, especially not without kissing you goodbye first.

Your focus was quickly diverted as your phone dinged. Maybe it was him telling you he grabbed coffee or breakfast.

Sadly, you were mistaken and it was just your mother telling you she was having a dress delivered for your engagement lunch. You had 3 hours to get ready.

Engagement. The word still made you sick even today. The only person you wanted to ever be engaged to fell asleep as he held you close to him last night. He was your one and only.

You sighed, typing back a quick text of understanding as your fingers moved to find his contact.

“Where did you go, my love? I hate waking up without you,” you typed.

Your driver dropped you off promptly just minutes before the party and still you hadn’t heard from Jaebum. This really was out of the ordinary. The two of you talked constantly when you were apart.

You could only think the worst as your nightmares came swimming back. Is this what they meant?

You entered your parents home, wide-eyed as you looked at how quickly they threw together such an elaborate gathering.

The decorations were stunning as to be expected and the countless pictures of you and Jackson throughout the years displayed all around only made your heart swell with an indescribable emotion.

Your life was splayed out for all to see and there he was, each step of the way. The two of you seemed like a perfect match.

“Hello, gorgeous” you heard.

You swiftly turned towards the sound, smiling for his sake as you saw your betrothed, adorned in a handsome suit that complimented your dress.

“Hi Jacks. You look nice”.

He moved towards you, linking your arms as he led you towards the party.

“I see our mothers coordinated our outfits,” he chuckled.

“Did you expect anything less from them?”

He smiled and pinched your cheek. Your sassy quips always made him light up.

“She’s here! Welcome future Mrs. Wang!” your mother squealed.

Although the gathering was intimate, the 20 pairs of eyes on you felt like a million. Future Mrs. Wang, you shuddered at the phrase.

You wanted to look away, feeling completely exposed, afraid your iron-clad resolve not to cry would evaporate if they looked at you much longer but something grabbed your attention immediately.

There he was, staring right back at you, looking just as solemn as you felt.

“I’d like to have everyone’s attention… That is if you can manage to tear your eyes away from my truly radiant bride to be,” Jackson said, garnishing ‘aww’s’ and chuckles from the room.

Everyone except Jaebum.

“I’d like to thank you all for putting this together so quickly. I hope I can speak for Y/N and I both when I say how thankful we are for your love and support. All my life, this woman has been there, growing and learning with me. My only hope is that we continue to do that for the rest of our time here on this earth. I feel very fortunate to get to stand beside someone so special”.

Your eyes watered as Jackson squeezed your hand. The fact that he was perfect in just about every way imaginable only made this living hell all the worse. He only lacked one crucial component. And that was, he wasn’t Jaebum.

“I know last night was kind of a blur for me with all the excitement and when I got home, I thought, I know there’s something missing from this scenario. Something just didn’t seem right”.

He paused, pulling something from his pocket.

“Y/N, this has been passed along through the women in my family for generations. As my wife, it would give me no greater pleasure than to see it on your finger”.

You immediately started crying the moment he slipped that engagement ring on your finger. You knew it well. Mrs. Wang had worn it for as long as you could remember and now it was yours.

“I promise to keep you safe and do my best to always make you feel loved,” he smiled.

He pulled you in for a tight hug as your tears flowed, heart beat sporadically as you tried to stop it all from hurting so bad. He kissed your cheek, wiping away the tears as he turned to show you off to the room.

An applause broke out, your mothers hugging you both as they too cried. They must have thought you were just as happy as them. For them, and for Jackson, you were going to keep it together today, even if it killed you.

You shifted your swelling face to search for him once more, needing to find some sort of solace in this emptiness you felt, but just like this morning, he had disappeared.


Fair Play - part 2

Chapter 2 (and final one)!! Sorry again it took me so long to post it, but here it is :) Hope you guys enjoy it

You can read chapter one here 

‘Are you still mad at us?‘ 

Hermione eyed him, apprehensive. She was sitting opposite him with Ron by her side, who pretended his sausages were much more interesting than the topic Hermione was trying to bring up. Honestly, Harry wished she could do the same and leave it.

'No, it’s fine' 

“S not’ Ron mumbled, eyes still fixed on his own plate. Would he ever stop blushing like that or even be able to look Harry in the eye again? Now, everytime Harry tried to talk to him, Ron would either run away or hold his breath, looking about to combust from embarassment. 

Gossip flew faster than owls, it seemed. It didn’t took a day for the whole castle to know Harry Potter had snogged Draco Malfoy, even less so for Ron and Hermione to hear the news. He blamed it on the enchanted music, on his best friends for leaving him alone, on the alcohol, everything he could think of, basically. A poor excuse that might have convinced most of his classmates; not Hermione, though, who had watched him closely through his whole 'obsessed-with-Malfoy’ phase. She knew, better than anyone,  Harry was a pinning, very much in denial, bloke. But he couldn’t stay in denial if she kept talking about Malfoy all the time, could he?

He blinked, doing his best to push away that tingling feeling burning beneath his skin. 


'I bet it was Parkinson. Or Zabini’ Hermione sighed exasperately beside him 'Or both!' 

From where Harry was he could see the Slytherin table perfectly, the blond head he’d been desperately trying to spot in the sea of heads nowhere to be seem.  

'I checked, there were no drugs-’

'He’d could have been cursed!' 

Was he even still in the castle? Harry remebered the question popping in his head that night, his dormitory umbearably silent.

And empty

Merlin, he couldn’t help wishing he’d brought Malfoy there with him that night. He could have pinned him against the closed door, teared open the already wrinkled fabric of his shirt…

’ -because Harry is crushing on him!'  

Harry’s attention snapped back to where he was. Some students were staring at them - more than usual - specially at Hermione, whose expression matched Ron’s except for the color. She’d gone so white Harry feared the girl would faint right then and there while Ron’s face was almost the color of his hair. 

Her eyes found Harry’s seconds later, a quiet apologie evident there.
'I’m not crushing on him’ he gritted through his teets before grabbing his things and heading for the Great Hall’s door alone. He wanted to hate Malfoy, hate it all. 


His toes curled again, warm from the heating air in front of them. The fire crackled lightning just the corner of the empty eighth year common room where he was hiding, a hand covering his lips so no one would know.
No one could ever know.

Draco’s moan came out muffled, his hips bucking up sinfully, fucking himself in his hand while forbidden images flew behind his eyelids. 

The taste, Potter’s tongue trailing the line of his jaw. Draco knew his cock was dripping even with eyes closed. 

Those thighs, so strong after years playing Quidditch - Draco wanted to sit on top of them, needed them around his neck while he stuffed his mouth with Potter’s cock. 

Draco let his head drop to the side to rest on the couch behind him. He rolled his bare ass against the rough carpet, aching for more heat. He twisted his fist slightly, just the way he liked while picturing Potter’s hand on top of his, whispering in his ear. 

Yes, Draco, just like that

Harry…’ the pleading escaped his lips, the name that rolled on his tongue new to his own ears.


Harry stopped, frozen, on the last step of the staircase. 

His name, he’d heard his name. And that voice, he could recognise it anywhere. 

'Like, this, Harry… ah…

The room was dark except for a distant corner. Harry tiptoed there, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. 

Harry rounded the corner to find Draco Malfoy sprawled on the carpet, hair sticking to his forehead while his hands, both of them, fisted his cock fast and hard. He still had his shirt on, the green silk fabric darker in the orange light.
Harry gasped and Draco shot his eyes open.

It all moved in slow motion, Draco’s cheeks becoming a darker shade of pink while Harry felt his cock filling inside his pants.  

He didn’t move quickly enough to stop Draco from getting up and running away again. He just stood there, too shocked to breath, too aware to be in denial anymore. 



The Slytherin snapped out of his daze, the blood rushing to his face because he’d been daydreaming about… Fuck, Draco ran his hand through his hair out of pure habit. Pansy knew that was a typical sign of anxiety coming from him, something he’d been doing for the past few days.
'What is it?’ She asked for the third time that day, tired of trying to guess the source of Draco’s distress. 

'Nothing’ he mumbled. He couldn tell her, he couldn’t tell anyone. Everyone already knew they had snogged senseless but the enchanted music had been a valid excuse for that, erasing any suspicion that they had done that intentionally. There were no excuses for him jerking off to Potter late at night and both of them knew that.

The hardest part was that Potter didn’t seem disgusted, willing to forget. It’d been three days since the party and not for a single one he hadn’t tried to reach out for Draco.

Of course Pansy was always by his side and he couldn’t do anything about that. Actually, he wouldn’t do anything about that partly because he didn’t think he was ready to whatever Potter wanted to talk about. 

'My patience’s running thin, Draco. If you won’t tell me what it is that’s making you sigh every five minutes than I’ll just let you mourn all alone, okay?’ Pansy got up dramatically, grabbing her bag from where it stood by the side of the sofa. 

'No!’ Draco reached for her hand, pulling her back down. 'Please, Pansy. Just… stay here, okay? Please?’ Draco knew Pansy loved when he was polite so he could do a little effort if it meant having more time to think. She smiled at him, apparently satisfied with his words, and dropped her bag again.

'Is it the gossip? People will forget about it sooner or later-’

'Er… Hello' 

Oh no. Not now not now not now-

'Can I have a word with Malfoy?’ Draco felt Pansy tensing by his side, her head turning slowly towards the person that stood not far from their couch but at a safe distant. 


Draco didn’t dare lift his eyes from where they were glued to the carpet. He could almost hear the pieces coming together inside his friend’s head, the fact that Potter didn’t despise him, realization hitting her seconds later and that wicked smile. Bloody hell, it would be easier to throw himself out of the window. 

'Sure’ the words contradicting her desire to stay and watch. 

Pansy got up, bending quickly to grab her bag before kissing Draco on the cheek, an innocent thing that hold a lot of meaning behind it. Pansy was delighted, Draco knew, most definitely because now he wouldn’t be able to dodge her atempts to match him with Potter. She’d been trying that for, what, three years? Ever since she caught Draco staring at Potter’s ass in that gorgeous outfit he wore during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament the bitch wouldn’t leave him alone. And now, when he needed her the most, she was leaving him.

Potter sent a weird look, almost like he expected her to come back and laugh at his face, before turning to Draco again, catching his eyes this time.

'Do you mind if I sit?' 

Yes, Draco tried to shout back. Leave, he wished he could just sneer at him like he was so used to.

'No’ he answered finally, keeping enough of his dignity holding Potter’s gaze instead of letting his eyes drop to the floor like he was dying to do.

Potter sat, the safe distance he kept driving Draco insane. 'I’m sorry’.

'Why?’ Draco said harshly, the word escaping his lips before he could think about all the things it implied. 

Potter’s eyes went wide.

'You’re not?’ Potter turned his body in Draco’s direction, placing his hand on the sofa so close to his he could feel the warmth radiating from it. They were close, but not enough to touch.

'I- ’

Draco forced his lips shut, glancing around as subtly as he could. There were some Hufflepuffs sitting by the fire at the far end of the room; two Ravenclaw girls chatting upon arithmancy books by the stairs; Lovegood braiding the Weasley girl’s hair, who slept peacefully with her head on the other’s lap on a large couch not far from them. He looked back at Harry, still too close to be safe but too far to be enough. 

'If you want to talk, I’ll meet you here later’

Draco was already turning away when a firm grip brought his eyes back. 

'Draco, do you regret it?' 

Draco lowered his voice, worried someone would notice their proximity.
'Later’ he gritted through his teeth.

Harry, unfazed, placed his hand softly on Draco’s cheek, his expression insistent. 

'I need to know now’

Draco breathed in deep, weighing how much fucked he’d be if he were honest for once. 

'Do you think I would still be here if I were sorry?’

Harry kissed him suddenly, sucking his lips lightly before backing away much too soon. 

He breathed on Draco’s lips.

'Later, then’


Anyone standing by the high stairs of the eighth year common room could say it was empty at such late hour. A small fire crackling enough to warm one of the corners but not enough to make Draco visible from where he stood curled on one old but confortable couch.

The hours passed by, his pocket watch making fun of his face everytime he opened it to check the time. He wasn’t ready, he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to have such a conversation, specially with Potter of all people. 

It was almost two in the morning when Draco heard the soft steps coming from behind him. He got up with a calmness he didn’t felt.


'Why were you avoiding me before?' 

Too soon, too soon Potter was right there in front of him and Draco couldn’t force himself to back away. No, he wanted the warmth that emmaneted from that strong body so he stayed firmly where he was. 

God, he craved those lips, his fingers tingling with the need to reach out and touch. Still, he kept his face blank, something he’d improved with time and practice, years and years of lutful feelings disguised as hate being throw at Potter.

'Draco, why are you doing this?’

He looked up, into those emerald eyes. Harry’s pupils were dilated but resentment was there too, furrowed dark brows intensifying his bright irisis. 

'I… what do you even mean?' 

Draco felt suffocated. It was hard to breath, hard to stay still when an evident electrifying field kept building up between them by the second. Harry fidgeted, closing the insignificant distance. Draco looked down, the silence around them enough for him to listen clearly to his speeding heartbeat.  

'I can’t do this anymore' 

Potter was the one to reach out, the expectation inside Draco too much for him not to moan the moment their skins touched. Harry forced his jaw open with one hand, the other coming to rest on his lower back, firmly pulling Draco’s body flushed against his.

'I couldn’t stop thinking’ Harry mouthed, brushing his lips against Draco’s, the hand still holding his jaw so Draco couldn’t even tilt his head an inch. Draco licked Harry’s bottom lip tentatively, trembling with the need to move.
Digging his fingers on Harry’s hips, Draco slid his palms down so he could grab his ass earning a low groan from the other.

Their mouths were hanging open, both of them breathing in each other’s air as their lips locked. The kiss was a hungry thing, desperation to taste each other bruising the soft skin. Harry’s hands were everywhere, squeezing his ass, messing up his hair, palming him through-

'Ah Potter… ’ Draco jerked his hips forward, rubbing shamelessly against Harry’s thigh. He was rocking hard - not that he was the only one -, knees too weak to support him any longer. He took a step forward, forcing Harry against the couch behind him.

'All week’ Harry’s hands still grabbing Draco’s ass pressed him down against him.

'What?’ Draco breathed on his neck where he’d started to leave mark after mark.  

'I’ve wanted you all week, you bastard' 

Draco shivered, letting Harry roll them around, ending up on top of him.
'Everytime I saw you in class’ Harry lowered his head enough to whisper on his lips again. 'I wanted to drop to my knees’

And fuck, he was crawling back until his mouth was right above Draco’s obvious bulge. 

'Lick you until you were dripping’ he nuzzled Draco’s crotch with his nose, inhaling deeply. 'How fucked up is that’ he talked more to himself than to Draco, a hint of shame clearly there.

Before Draco could do anything Harry’s mouth covered the bulge, mouthing the side of his cock and pressing his tongue flushed against the fabric, so hot Draco felt it immediately. 

His fingers threaded in those dark locks, painfully pulling Harry’s head up. 

'Do you even know what I have been through?' 

He sat down, ignoring Harry’s shocked expression  when he was forced away from him. 

Draco pushed Potter on his back, his head coming to rest on the arm of the couch. It took him seconds to get rid of his pants, lower half completed exposed.

Months, Potter’ he climbed on top of Harry who seemed too dumbstruck to even speak. 'And you waited for, what, a week?’ He kissed him hard,  backing away too soon.

Draco balanced his weight on his knees, positioning his swollen cock in front of Harry’s mouth. 

Almost tenderly, Draco caressed Harry’s scalp, bringing his lips closer to his cock. It all felt like one of his fantasies, the hungry look in Harry’s eyes giving him the confidence he didn’t know he had.

'Lick it from the base’ he ordered, watching disbelievingly as Harry did as he was told without  breaking eye contact.

Draco trembled, doing his best to not buck forward.  Harry reached the head, sucking it and, fuck, closing his eyes when lowering his head, taking in half of Draco’s cock in his mouth. 

It was so hot, the way Harry sucked him like he was made for that, practically begging Draco to thrust into his mouth. The heat built up faster than he wanted it to, consuming all the remaining strength he had left. Harry hummed agaisnt his cock, his hands grabbing Draco’s arse cheeks and supporting him there while forcing his hips forward, a silence plead for more.

Draco thrust, letting his eyes fall shut and mouth hang open when he came moments later. 

He let himself be pulled down to lay on top of Harry. It wasn’t fair, the way Harry treated him like he could break any minute. The kisses being placed on his temple, the hands stroking his back. He wanted to hate it all.
'Potter, we should- ’ Draco tried to get up but Harry only strengthened the grip around his waist.  

'It’s Harry' 

Draco wanted to hate it all.

Harry tilted his head so their eyes could meet, the sweetness that could be found there far from anything fair. But Draco couldn’t hate it even if he truly wanted to.

Family Ties

Rating: M +18

Warning: sex

Word Count: 1593

Yixing glared at you from across the dining room table.  Your housekeeper Mrs. Xin, a older woman placed a pot of tea in the middle of you two as she shook her head.  

“You’ve two been married for two months and you’re still doing this morning dance?”  She rolled her eyes as you ate some rice.  Yixing shook the newspaper in his hands as he let out a sigh.

“I don’t see that ending anytime soon.”  He mumbled as you placed your chopsticks down and stood up.  

“I’ll be in my study, please don’t bother me.”  Mrs. Xin chased you out the door speaking about finishing your breakfast but you just slammed your study room shut, locking it from the inside.  

Back in the dining room, Yixing gave another sigh as he heard your sewing machine startup.  Mrs. Xin looked at him as he put down his newspaper picking up his own chopsticks and began to eat.  

“Did you two get in a another fight last night?”  She asked, concern on her face.  Yixing shook his head as he smiled at the housekeeper.  

“Last night we had dinner with our parents, and when two mothers gang up on you to have a child, it gets to you.”  He grabbed an egg as he smiled at her.  Mrs. Xin grabbed the bowl of rice away from him.  He popped the egg in his mouth as he looked up at her with wide eyes.  

“Just because you don’t carry the child, doesn’t mean you don’t have any responsibility in the matter.”  She walked off taking his food with him.  He swallowed the egg as he walked over to the doorway, listening to the noise coming from your sewing room.  His phone began to ring as he peered at the caller ID.  Mom flashed on the screen as he took in a deep sigh.  

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Finding Home (Part 6)

Steve x Reader

Modern Day AU

Summary: US Army Capt Steve Rogers has never had a family of his own, but after receiving a random card while on deployment - he suddenly feels like he has one. Sometimes home can be a place, sometimes it can be a person, and sometimes it’s a place you’ve never been. A story of love, family, and home.

*based on the movie The Christmas Card*

Finding Home MasterList

It had been a week since Steve had agreed to work for your family, he had spent a ton of time with Sam and they had become quick friends.  You and Steve had been spending a lot of time together as well, to the point where you discussed everything.  Well almost everything, Steve had told you about his accident, and Bucky, the only thing he hadn’t told you was what really brought him there.  

After a particularly hard day, you woke with a start from a nightmare.  You knew there was only one way for you to feel better, hot chocolate and the warmth of your parents house.  You grab some shoes and walk down the dirt road toward the old farm house.  You push open the door as quietly as you can, clicking it shut behind you.  

You walk to the kitchen not bothering to turn on a light knowing your way around the house like the back of your hand.  Reaching into the cabinet and grabbing a cup, you turn on the stovetop and place a pot of milk on the flame.  You jump up on the counter making yourself comfortable, stirring the milk every so often.

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Jesus Christ, That’s a Pretty Face

Summary: Phil is a famous indie-rock singer who never shows his face on stage and Dan is a massive fan who unknowingly meets his favorite artist at the library.
Word Count: 5538
Warnings: none except for cussing
A/N: Hello lovelies! I woke up to the wonderful news that gay marriage has been legalized in all fifty states! I’m seriously gonna cry i swear. Anyways, here’s a little thing I wrote that I’m quite proud of so I hope you guys like it as well! Special thanks to my beta, whalefairyfandom12 who helped me develop the plot and kept telling me that I was doing great. Ilysm (’:
Jesus Christ - Brand New


“THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING OUT TO SEE ME TONIGHT, LONDON!” Phil screamed into the microphone, his ears nearly bursting with the chanting of the crowd before him: thousands of listeners (he refused to call them his fans) cheering for him and the rest of his indie rock band, Runaway Sky. The fact that this many people came to see them always made a warm feeling erupt in his chest.

See, Phil wasn’t the typical famous person that most people looked up to. He saw himself as an average guy who just happened to have a nice voice. He didn’t have beautiful hair like David Beckham or rock hard abs like Chris Evans. He was just Phil, a twenty-two year old with a black fringe who had a liking for skinny jeans and always wore a mask on stage.

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* ( ; verse names — masterlist of ideas !

out of personal necessity, i’ve decided to collect a ton of possible verse names for future ships of mine. most of these are from random songs by various artists, but some might be popular phrases/quotes or products of my imagination, and they are in alpahbetic order. feel free to take whichever your want, but please like/reblog if you found this helpful. there are currently 123 names on this list (UPDATES ON JANUARY 4TH, +123

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See Them Buried

Clarissa Reynolds was the best seamstress in Amestris.

By legend, she could spend five minutes sizing a soldier up with her eyes, and churn out a perfectly fitting uniform for him in two days flat. The “five minutes” was untrue, and the “by sight” was a bit of an exaggeration, and “two days” was sometimes three or four—but all those aside, Clarissa’s work was perfect, and there was no room to argue that.

Clarissa was 42 now, with wrinkles around her chocolate eyes and corkscrewing hair that had grayed prematurely. With 20 years of professional practice under her belt, she’d made more than a name for herself among the Central military personnel. She was specifically picked for special people, or for problem cases, when they arose. She’d sewed every bit of Major Alex Armstrong’s uniform, whose proportions had left his first seamstress rather white in the face and overwhelmed.

Clarissa had personally been tasked with crafting the Fuhrer’s uniform. The other seamstresses held this as a point of admiration in Clarissa, as well as an inside jest. Clarissa was the only one of them to ever “work with” the Fuhrer, which was subtle phrasing to mean Clarissa was the only one among them who’d seen the Fuhrer stripped to his underwear. They asked how it was “working with” him, and Clarissa told them that Mrs. Bradley would perhaps not like this information to go public. She had no real desire to discuss the Fuhrer in his underwear—he’d been perfectly courteous and pleasant while being measured, which made him one of Clarissa’s more enjoyable jobs.

Her work followed her home, where she had two full rooms dedicated to her craft. She padded mannequins to match the proportions of current clients, and she worked late into the night fitting different folds of cloth over the dummies, over and over, until she found a pattern which fell just right. Her 14 year old daughter Violet liked to hang in the periphery and observe; her 12 year old son Conner liked to sit on a favorite step stool, swinging his legs and commenting on which orientations of navy blue fabric looked the most “bad ass”. He also reminded her to take the pins out of her hair every night when she left the room, a task she’d given him after pricking her husband a few dozen times too many in bed.

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i could teach you - taeyong scenario - part four

Lee Taeyong - NCT

words - 1.9k

genre - angst / heartbreaker!au

soundtrack - jaymes young, habits of my heart

parts: one / two / three / four

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

The silence was crushing. It hung hefty between the two of you, only punctuated by the occasional drumming of his fingertips against the timber table. You didn’t raise your eyes to meet the gaze that you could feel crawling over your skin. Every ounce of you attention was focused on the albicant piece of paper he’d placed before you. It’s jagged at the edges, probably torn from some note book and the black scrawl before you reveals his passably neat handwriting. However all that was a moot point when your brain began to read what he’d written.

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Happy Anniversary (T’Challa X Wife!Reader)

Characters: T’Challa X Wife!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: None


Request: Being T'Challa’s princess? Hey - about T'Challa. I meant his queen sorry and it’s up to you about how it should be. Whatever inspires you :-) sorry it was a but vague

Originally posted by allthingsblackwidowed

You woke up to the smell of fresh flowers. You opened your eyes and looked outside the large window to see the beautiful forest of Wakanda. You heard a groan and looked down and saw your husband, T’Challa. You smiled, remembering what day it was. It was your Anniversary!

You and T’Challa had now officially being married for 8 years. 8 years of happy marriage. You had known each other since you were little, and you had started dating when you were teenagers, being childhood sweethearts. In the beginning his father didn’t approve, but after seeing you in a relationship for the whole of your school life and seeing how happy you made his son, he gave his blessing and when you were 21, T’Challa asked for you hand in marriage. A year later, you were married.

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The Contest-Part 20

To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest.  They are doing open casting calls all over the country.  Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.

A/N: My inspiration for Nikki is the one and only Red, AKA@oriona75.  So I am actually telling two stories here, Jared and Readers, and Sam and Gemini’s.  It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! :)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Best friend Nikki(OC) Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Mark Pellegrino, Rory Montgomery (OC), PA Emily (OC) Cliff, Other Supernatural cast and crew

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

After much debate, Jared and Jensen had convinced me that it would be much more fun if we surprised Nikki and Misha with the wedding reception/baby shower.  “So what cover story do we use to get them there?” Jensen had asked.

“I got it!” Jared had said.  “It’s almost Y/N’s birthday, so we can say I am throwing her a party for her birthday and because she’s staying on the show.” 

“This is good.  We can work with this.  You can ask Misha and Nikki to be the ones who get me there.,  I’ll make it REALLY hard on them. Nikki will bitch, but Jensen you can say you’re helping Jared set up.”  My mind was already whirling with possibilities.

The entire cast and crew had been sworn to secrecy.  I honestly had my doubts as to whether we were gonna be able to pull this off. Mark Sheppard couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.  Ruthie Connell was so excited she could barely contain herself.  Amateurs!

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100 Headcanons

((I’m finally done!! I’m kind of disappointed this took so long. Sorry about that. This is split into two sections of fifty headcanons: one for the Axis, and one for the Allies. Enjoy!!))

Axis: Italy (Luciano), Germany (Lutz), Japan (Kuro), Prussia (Gillen), and Romano (Flavio)
1. Luciano is in charge
2. Flavio never wanted to be part of the family business, so he let Luciano become the Don after their grandfather died, but since you can’t really get away from the mob, he became the Underboss
3. Lutz and Kuro are technically only associates of the Vargas mafia
4. Gillen used to be a badass punk and got into fights all the time
5. After seeing his little brother grow up to be just like him, he fell into the depression that is now his life (he could still kick major ass if he tried)
6. Kuro is crazy efficient
7. Lutz is less efficient
8. Luciano wears shoes with as much heal as possible without looking “too feminine”
9. He still gets mistaken for a lady
10. And sometimes a child
11. He always gets carded when he goes to bars
12. Flavio also gets mistaken for a lady, but he doesn’t get upset about it (his response is usually along the lines of “am I really that pretty today?”)
13. The Vargas boys can dance really well oh my god
14. Lutz is afraid of dogs
15. Especially big ones
16. The scars on his arm are from a big dog
17. Lutz and Gillen dress for comfort, Luciano and Flavio for style, and Kuro for functionality
18. Where does this whole “blood pasta” thing come from? Luciano’s not a vampire, my dude
19. All five of them are covered in scars, but Lutz is the only one with one on his face
20. Most of Luciano’s are on his hands and his back
21. Luciano and Flavio have way more in common than either of them would like to admit
22. Flavio bleaches his hair (it’s naturally black)
23. Lutz and Gillen are Jewish
24. Luciano and Flavio are atheists
25. Kuro is agnostic
26. Kuro and both Vargas boys have a gambling problem
27. Flavio takes care of all of their hair except Gillen’s
28. Gillen doesn’t get hair cuts
29. Lutz wants eight cats
30. Luciano has a black cat named Leonardo (after Leonardo da Vinci)
31. Lutz has broken his nose too many times to count
32. Kuro and Luciano are each responsible for a third of all the times Lutz’s nose has been broken
33. Luciano is also responsible for Lutz’s cheek scar
34. At any given moment, Gillen would rather be making a flower crown
35. Luciano is the Wine Mom™
36. He has a glass of red wine every night with dinner
37. He rarely has more than one drink a day, though
38. Flavio handles most of the family’s drug business
39. Kuro is just hired muscle and could leave at any time if someone offered him more money than the Vargas family (or for any reason at all, really)
40. Lutz, on the other hand, is the most loyal sap ever
41. He’ll be with the Vargas mafia until he dies or retires
42. Neither of the Beilschmidts can swim
43. Flavio doesn’t like swimming, but can
44. The only person stealthier than Luciano is Kuro
45. Luciano’s life relies on schedules
46. If he tried, Gillen could easily win in a fight against the rest of the team (four against one, buddy. Gillen Beilschmidt is no joke)
47. All of them like Queen except for Kuro
48. Lutz is the most likely to get more than three hours of sleep a night
49. Luciano is The Best™ at knife tricks
50. Kuro is covered in tattoos

Allies: France (François), America (Allen), England (Oliver), China (Zao), Russia (Viktor), and Canada (Matthieu)
1. Matt is transgender
2. François has a limp
3. Al has two bats and they both have names (Betty is real nice, but you don’t want to meet Marie)
4. Oliver and Allen have father-son musical nights every week
5. Ollie has a huge collection of pretty knives; his favourites are rainbow
6. He’s never used any of his knives for anything
7. If he had the option, Viktor would never leave his house
8. Al’s got a Brooklyn accent
9. Zao only does drugs he can smoke
10. And he’s surprisingly aware of what they are, where they came from, and any risks associated with any of them
11. Eleven is Viktor’s favourite number
12. He won’t listen to music that’s less than a hundred years old
13. François can’t be trusted to look out for himself
14. François and Ollie garden together
15. At any given moment, Al would rather be playing with a dog
16. Zao has horrible allergies
17. He can’t ride a bike either
18. Al has everyone (Axis and Allies) over once a month for Dungeons and Dragons
19. Everyone leaves DnD night exhausted and beat up
20. Seriously, I don’t know why they keep doing this. Everyone gets hurt every time. They all hate each other
21. Viktor writes short stories and novels all the time
22. He’s never showed any of them to anyone, even though he has several finished manuscripts
23. Al’s nose is all crooked and fucked up because he’s broken it so many times
24. He’s always a baby about fixing it though
25. Matt and Ollie have to work together to straighten it as much as possible before the bones start to set
26. Oliver has never killed anyone
27. Matt and Al are both vegan
28. Al doesn’t particularly mind when people eat meat/wear leather; hell, he’ll even wear leather as long as it’s second hand
29. Matt, on the other hand, does mind
30. None of the Allies are religious
31. If François were to realise he had a problem, he’d try to fix it
32. Matt can get a blazing fire going in three minutes flat without anything more than a few matches and some wood (and kindling because he ain’t no wizard)
33. Al and Zao LARP
34. Al fights homophobes on the street
35. Ollie is almost as good at knife tricks as Luciano
36. He sews, knits, and crochets, so Al often comes to home for help with his LARP costumes
37. Al used to play mailbox baseball all the time with his friends
38. He can’t decide if he prefers Quentin Tarantino or Robert Rodriguez
39. Al believes in Bigfoot and several other cryptids
40. Matt thinks he’s crazy
41. But who’s gonna listen to a guy who practically lives in Cabela’s
42. He did spend a year living on a boat
43. Ollie takes aesthetic pictures of his friends
44. Zao would be an excellent cook if he tried
45. Viktor is probably the best cook of the Allies
46. Ollie has the cutest earrings (usually strawberries or cupcakes)
47. François, Matt, and Viktor all hate technology
48. Matt lives in in a cabin in the middle of the woods and has a yurt on his property
49. You can never find Matt without a steri-pen; he likes river water
50. Ollie is a little bit of a badass when it comes to dealing with injuries

We watch the demon child

Word count: 2298
Pronouns: She/Her
Pairing: Avengers/Wolverine’s daughter!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, One VERY common Star Wars spoiler
Note: This is the longest imagine I’ve ever written!

“Dad, do I really have to stay with them?” The (h/c) haired girl whined. Logan chuckled and ruffled her hair before kissing her forehead.

“Yes. Be good, okay kid? Don’t burn down the building.”

“I make no promises.” She grumbled, giving him a last hug. Logan hoped in the pickup truck that he was so fond of and gave a small wave before driving off. (Y/n) knocked on the metal door, tapping the toe of her (f/c) vans impatiently. Before long, a brown haired man appeared at the door; Tony Stark, one of her guardians for the next week.

“Can I help you?” He peered down.

“I’m (Y/n), Wolverines kid.” Tony snorted and moved back a bit, letting her enter the large Stark tower.

“You’re the mighty Wolverines kid?”

“Yeah, problem?”

“You’re so small! What, you got claws too? Is your hero name kitten?” He laughed.

“No, actually. They call me Voodoo doll (work with me I’m not good at this).” Her hands were itching to send him through the roof, that arrogant jerk.

“Voodoo doll? Why’s that?” With a flick of her wrist, the man was sent flying against the wall. He kneeled to the ground in pain and she walked past him contently.

“That’s why.” She stated simply. Yes, her power was telekinesis. Leaning against the wall for support, he wakes after the girl. She couldn’t get very far, as she didn’t know where she was going, but she would figure out the whole building soon enough. That’s just how she rolled. She handed him a letter from her dad as they walked. “So…where am I crashing while I’m forced to stay here?”

Tony stared at her, she had to be at least fifteen, maybe sixteen, so why was she staying here? He would ask her later.

“Cmon, I’ll show you.” He took her to the elevator, to a currently empty floor. “The whole floors yours, but all meals are served downstairs. Before you do anything, though, let’s set some rules. 1) Do not destroy anything. 2) Do not challenge Pietro to a foot race,”

The girl giggled at this. Like she was stupid enough for that! If she had enough trouble with her Maximoff, then this one must be twice as hard to deal with!

“3) If you upset Bruce, you have to calm him down. And 4) Whatever you do, don’t touch the suits. Got it?”

“Whatever you say, mom.” Tony sighed and stood, leaving the floor swiftly. He ordered JARVIS to keep an eye on her till dinner. (Y/n) set her clothes in drawers, sketch pads on the dresser, and her backpack of summer work at the base of the bed. For nearly an hour she sat listening to music and messing with her powers, not in the mood to do much more than that. Of course, things would be much more fun when she met the other Avengers, but till then, she would have to be bored.

“Miss Howlette, dinner is being served downstairs. Master Tony has requested your presence.” Robots? Cool.

“Kay. Be there in a sec.” She unplugged her headphones and headed to the elevator, where she soon arrived at the dining room. The table was surrounded by many people, so (Y/n) plopped herself between the cutie with the white hair and blue suit and the male Loreal model. Most of them seems to be in their ‘work’ clothes (although she wasn’t really sure what they did besides hate on the X-Men).

“Uh, Tony? You gonna introduce us to your guest?” The guy in the purple suit with the bow and arrows asked.

“She’s a big girl, she can do it herself.” Tony grunted. So that was how he was gonna go about this. Alright, may as well make this interesting!

The girl cleared her throat and stood up. “Hi, I’m (Y/n) Howlette, Wolverines daughter. I can control shit with my mind. Contrary to what I’m sure you are all probably thinking, I have no clue as to who any of you are.” She sat back down, nibbling on a french fry. The team stared in disbelief at her. How could she not know who they were?!

Everyone took turns introducing themselves, helping her to better understand what they did and who not to piss off.

“Question.” Steve stated.

“Answer.” The girl replied.

“Why is Tony babysitting you? You have to be at least fifteen!” The curious soldier asked.

The girl smirked in return. Well, they asked! “Started when I was four, they left me with Kurt and I singed off half his fur on his face. When I was seven, they left me with Scott and came back to part of the mansion burned down. I stole his glasses while he was sleeping. Then at age eleven, they decided to try a girl. They left me with Jean, and we scorched the kitchen making waffles. At twelve, Peter babysat me and I got whiplash, not my fault that time. They left me alone last year, only for three days, but they came back to me with a busted lip and black eye from a fight at school. To be fair, though, that bitch started it. So now you know. If you read the letter I had given you, Stark, you’d know I’m like ‘a puppy on a sugar high’ as Peter puts it.” She finished off, crossing her arms. That couldn’t- but she seemed nice enough! They figured that she couldn’t be that bad and laughed it off.

“Whatever you say, Lady (Y/n).” Thor chortled (I hate that word). The girl huffed and scooted her chair out.

“Fine, don’t believe me. Your mistake.” She called, leaving the room. That night nothing went wrong, but the next day would not be as lucky. The Team came down to (Y/n) munching on a pop tart (which was floating in mid air, no less) with her feet on the table. Nat pushed them off and sat down next to her, sipping her cup of coffee. Pietro ran past, causing (Y/n)s pop tart to fall to the floor in pieces. That was the first mistake. It was a good thing to note that (Y/n) was not, nor had she ever been, a morning person. She motioned with her finger towards a pan, making it float to her. She grabbed the handle and held it in the air, right as Pietro ran past her and face first into the pan. He fell to the floor unconscious. Everyone looked horrified at the girl who continued to text away at her phone. She promptly stood up and left the room, laughing at something or another.

Then, during training, the girl sat nearby watching with a bored look. It just wasn’t as cool when more than half of them didn’t have powers. So she decided to make it a bit more interesting. That is, by messing with Nat. Every once in a while, (Y/n) would throw something in the lady’s direction, then pretend she didn’t do it. She would also make comments, stop the bullets from Nat’s gun with her powers, and move the targets (all of which she pretended she didn’t do.) This went on until Natasha had enough.

“Stop or pay the consequences.” She growled, to which the girl pouted.

“Stop what?” Natasha turned and went to shoot, only to have the target move.

(Y/n) laughed until she was shot through the shoulder. She frowned and pulled the bullet out, the wound closing soon after.

“That was a waste of a bullet.” She commented, only for the red head to groan in annoyance and shoot her twice more. “You really shouldn’t waste bullets on silly old me.” (Y/n) pulled the other two out and dropped them in a trash can, running off to change shirts.

This was just the beginning. Her antics got worse throughout the week. On Tuesday, she made bird puns around Clint all day, and at one point his his bow, only to be chased with an arrow around the tower until JARVIS revealed the weapons location.

Wednesday, she messed with Thor, making comments about his brother and how terrible pop tarts were. This caused her to be placed under Mjolnir. But then, by some great miracle, she heaved it off and handed it back to him! In an attempt at an apology, (Y/n) taught him all about the magic of the grocery store and its isle of different flavored poptarts, which, of course, nearly maxed out one of Tony’s credit cards.

On Thursday, she not only refused to stop calling Steve 'Iced Americano’ but she also told him about the whole 'Luke, I am your father,’ thing, which made him nearly cry, and when Bucky comforted him, all she had to say was, “Aw, look! The star-crossed lovers! Get it?” Which then made Bucky attack her, tearing at anything he could reach.

Was Friday at least a bit better? Nope! She 'accidentally’ erased the chalk board with all the formulas that Bruce had been working on for the past three nights. He had almost found the cure to not hulking out every time he got angry, and she had ruined it! With causes him to turn green around the gills, for a very long time. Not full hulled out, just tinted green. 'Kinda like a Christmas tree’ is how (Y/n) put it.

And Saturday was just horrid. She A) challenged Pietro to a foot race, causing a sonic boom to erupt and America to think that the terrorists were attacking (whoops) and B) painted Tony’s favorite suit a bright green with a big ol’ Ben Franklin head on it (to the best of her painting abilities) 'to match his second love.’ It took three hours of scrubbing to get off, not that she did it. Nuh-uh, she hid in the closest Starbucks like the wuss she was, but at least she was a happy wuss.

Sunday was relief. Tonight, Logan would come to get his daughter and take her home (hopefully forever). They just had to get through this last day… She had pranked just about everyone except Wanda and Vision (cause she thought they were a cute couple and didn’t want to ruin their 'moments’). She couldn’t possibly cause anymore damage, or so they thought. The Avengers sat in the meeting room, listening as Director Fury talked about what they should be prepared for, but no one payed attention to the girl in the (f/c) converses and (s/f/c) baseball shirt at the next table over. In front of her was two pictures; one of Odin and the other of Fury. She stared intently at them until Fury actually bothered to notice.

“What are you doing?” He growled in his usual grouchy tone.

“Trying to spot the similarities.” Oh god, no. She wasn’t- she wouldn’t- “Here’s what I’ve got so far. They both wear eyepatches, they both oversee some sort of team whether it be warriors or heroes, and they’re both major assholes. You got anything else for me?”

“Yeah, they both have a tendency to throw people out of places. Out of my meting room! Now!” She shrugged and left, leaving a furious Fury in her wake. They all sighed, knowing they’d have to deal with him now.

Nobody understood why she loved to do this so much. Was it the influence of her father, or just on her blood? Who knew. The day seemed to drag by, but the girl didn’t pull anymore pranks. She sat quietly in her room, doing who knows what. The Avengers sat on the couch, discussing random things while watching a show in the background. When the doorbell finally rang at 7 o’ clock that evening, everyone gathered at the door. There stood Logan Howlette, in his usual flannel, jacket, and jeans. His pickup truck stood out against the dark alleyways.

“Thank god!” Tony cried dramatically.

“You’ve come to take the demon child!” Clint praised. Logan raised an eyebrow at the men’s odd behavior.

“She didn’t burn anything down, right?” He asked curiously, wanting to know just what they meant. They all shook their heads, but before anyone could speak, the girl in question came bounding out of the elevator, bags in hand. She dropped them as she threw herself at Logan in a hug.

“Dad! How was the mission? Did you kill anyone? Man, that was be so wicked if you did!” She grinned widely. Logan grabbed her bags, slinging them over his shoulder easily.

“Yes, I did kill someone. I try not to, but I did. Thanks again for watching her, Stark.”

“I’d say anytime, but that’d be a lie. Adios. Bob voyage. Goodbye!” He called, shoving them out the door. When the two were settled in the car, (Y/n) turned to her father.

“Hey dad, I’m not- I’m not actually a demon child, r-right?” She crinkled her nose at the thought. Sure, she had behaved pretty bad this week, but it’s only because she wanted attention. She wouldn’t have gotten it from them if she hadn’t done it, and she knew that for a fact!

Logan chuckled and grabbed her hand. “No bub, Stark and his friends are just idiots.” The girl hummed in response. “So what’d you do that made them so desperate?”

“It’s a long story, but I guess we have time, so…I’ll just start from the beginning!” And off she went, recounting her tales from this week, earning the occasional laugh or 'nice one’ from her father. No matter how misunderstood she was to other people, she knew her dad would always like her for her, and that was enough for her.

This Is Us -Chapter 3

Faith Julia

“Jamie, lad, this arrived for ye from Jared’s office.” Mrs. Fitz, his admin turned toward him as her salt and pepper hair came a little loose from her bun, and handed Jamie a battered, padded manilla envelope upon his return from a late lunch.

It was covered in stamps and dirt. He could see from the cross posting that it had originated in Scotland. He wondered what it was. He didn’t remember ordering anything from Scotland to be sent to Paris and all of his friends and business associates used email or text to communicate.

He absentmindedly set it aside as he dialed the online video conference call number. The brand was moving into more countries in Europe and he had meetings with Unite LQ, one of the largest distributors of liquor from Spain to Greece.

Two hours later, Jamie felt a great sense of satisfaction. The deal was outlined and he and Ian had managed to hammer out the numbers and the production schedule. They’d checked in with Marsali MacKimmie, the foreman of the manufacturing facility, to run the figures by her. He’d meet with Geneva Dunsany in legal in a few days to review the fine details but he couldn’t have been more pleased. Everything was a go.

He and Fergus would need to coordinate with marketing to finalize the PR plan for the continent. He wondered if it would be possible to launch “Operation Lard Head” as Murtagh had begun to call it.  That would depend on whether the Angus and Rupert brand of Scottish humor would translate well across cultures. His gut said yes, which would relieve some of the “deer caught in the headlights” feeling that occasionally happened when he was in a public setting with friends and family.  

His work life was unfolding well.  Personally, he was doing fine but he had yet to meet a woman he was interested in and reluctant to play the field (he hated that euphemism) – that was not what he was looking for.  In his twenties he travelled from job to job, so casual was all he could offer.

Now that the business was more stable, he wanted something of substance in his private life as well. As a bartender, he’d spent much of his time observing couples– from first dates to anniversary celebrations; from falling in love to indifference or loathing.  He wanted to get it right, hoping for a love like his parents shared. So, for now, Jamie was content to move slow and trust that he would know the girl for him when he found her, as his father promised he would.

Jamie started to pack it in for the day.  As he rounded the desk, he absentmindedly grabbed the battered package and tossed it into his messenger bag (no’ a man-purse, thank ye, Janet ). He spent the last of the daylight hours at the gym before grabbing dinner and heading home.

As Jamie let himself into his flat he noticed it was quiet for once. He should not have taken the apartment in this area, but it was close enough to work so he could walk and he was in the heart of downtown. It also, unfortunately, was less than five blocks from the largest hospital serving the metro area.

Most days he could mentally filter the noise of sirens and other street sounds out but tonight he admitted that the rare silence felt soothing. He opened a beer and the box of pizza. He turned on a match for background noise and reached into his bag to jot a note to himself about following up with Marsali on shipping rates and delivery times.

His hand accidentally grazed the package, forgotten in the recesses of the bag and he pulled it out. Jamie turned it over in his hands. Beauchamp it read and the street address was one he knew he’d heard before but couldn’t place.

Jamie thought it must have been sent from one of Jared’s connections since the name on the return address was French. He moved to open the flap and noticed the letter had been forwarded several times, following him around Paris until it landed in Jared’s office and had been sent on from there.

It had made a long round trip, sent from here and returning here months later. He wasn’t surprised at the delay, only that it found him at all. His last six months in Paris had been chaotic. He had moved a few times in quick succession. First, when the building he was living in was badly damaged in a fire, though no one, by the Blessing of St. Florian, had been injured, then to the temporary shelter the landlord had arranged for several weeks, then he finally found a sublet.  Jared’s had been his last forwarding address. By the time the letter found Jared, Jamie was already back to Scotland.

Jamie tilted the envelope. A cascade of papers fell into his lap and a glossy photo of a chubby baby with beautiful brown eyes and the most remarkable head of auburn– almost red– curls stared up at him. A stretchy yellow flowered headband held the ringlets in place.

There was something familiar about the picture but he couldn’t think what at the moment. As he organized the papers into some semblance of order, he realized it was a letter addressed to him. A very thick letter of six or so pages.

“Dear Mr. Fraser,” it started, “My name is Claire Beauchamp. Several months ago my ex-husband and I started IVF treatments at Preservation, UK.  I am writing to you to let you know that there was a mix up at the lab. ”

All the air whooshed out of his lungs. Jamie reached blindly for the photograph again trying to puzzle it out. Willie, he thought, taking in a desperate breath. That is who it reminded him of, Ah Dhia!. Willie’s hair had been that exact shade- a cross between Jenny’s darkness and his red. The eye color was not Fraser at all. It was a lovely golden whiskey brown; but the cat like shape and the lashes colored dark at the ends then light moving toward the lid were both deeply familiar as he saw the same every morning in the mirror.

His heart was in his throat as he quickly searched in the envelope, rustled through the pages; this was the only picture. He stared hard at it, in wonder and in awe. He lurched for his phone. His hands were shaking so hard that if not for speed dial he might never have been able to make the call.

“How old?” He demanded without preamble.

“How old what?” His sister asked, confused.

“The lassie, the bairn in the story wi’ the clinic, how old would she be?” He couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice.

“Lassie? I dinna think the paper reported the gender of the babe.” Jenny said doubtfully.

“Never mind that, do ye remember?” Jamie tried to hold it together, wanting to reach through the phone and throttle the information from her.

“Holy Mother of God! Yer no saying—-” Jenny breathed.

“Age. Now, Janet!”

“I guess the babe’d be at least a year and a half, maybe nearer to two. “ Came the response.

“How old when they have their first teeth? The little ones at top and bottom?” Jamie said staring at the photo, his own lips turning up a little as he counted four teeth and took in the cherubic, drooly smile he had missed the first time around.

“Oh, 6 to 8 months or so for our lassies. It depends. Kitty got them late, Maggie early. Tell me what’s happened, brathair.” She demanded.

“I got a package today from Jared,” Jamie began, “sent to me from Scotland by the looks of it some time ago. Just caught up wi’ me now.” Inexplicably he felt his eyes well up. “Jenny,” he said, having to stop to clear the lump in his throat, “it’s Willie to the life, except for the color of the eyes.”  

“Oh! Show me,” she begged.

He was confused for a second thinking how to do that but then snapped a quick shot of the photo and texted it while he remained on the phone. He heard the soft ping as it transmitted to her end and then her sharp intake of breath.

“Jesus, Mary and Bride!” Came the quick reply. Then a demand, “What’s her name?”

“I dinna–” Jamie realized he hadn’t even finished reading the first full paragraph. “I havena read the letter that came wi’ it.” He confessed.

Suddenly Jenny was laughing despite the surreal situation.

“Weel, normally I’d ask if ye’d no’ jumped to conclusions then? But I’d ken a Fraser on any street corner anywhere in the world so there isna much room for doubt.” Jenny said.

“Hold on I’ll see if I can—-”Jamie broke off, finding it impossible to read and talk at the same time.

As he was busy skimming the letter for information, Jenny waited patiently, excited by the possibility for she and Jamie cherished family above all else. They had lost so much of it in their lives.

Jamie caught phrases here and there such as “prior to her birth we discovered her blood type was B, my ex and I are both A and we knew he could not have fathered her.” and “I hope I have not made a mistake by reaching out to you in this way. I know it must be a shock. Due to recent events, I find myself on familiar terms with that feeling.” Jamie smiled at that.

Then further in the letter she wrote, “I wanted nothing to do with the lawsuit, I found out about the court case on the same day we left the hospital. Frank filed it on his own and a short time later, he left us.”

Jamie’s heart clenched hard. Her use of “we” and “us” connected deeply within in him –and he felt a sense of sorrow and even anger on her behalf and with it an overwhelming need to provide safety and protection to both mother and child. A confused jumble of emotion he didn’t quite understand.  

“When I learned that the clinic never informed you about the baby, I knew that there was one thing that I did want from them, after all. The identity of the father.”

A page later he read, “I am enclosing a picture of her. It’s a little out of date, but one of my favorites….I keep writing this letter, adding pieces of it day by day, putting off having to place it in the envelope because I am not sure I will have the courage to send it.”

Jenny could hear rustling as he turned the pages, and waited in an agony of suspense.

Finally on the bottom of the sixth page he read, “Given the way she came into the world and the fact that both she and I almost did not make it, I named her Faith.  Faith Julia Beauchamp…..I did not amend her birth certificate even after learning your identity, not because I was trying to make a statement one way or the other but simply because it felt wrong to do so without knowing what you wanted. So much of what has happened has been without your consent that I believe that the only one who has the right to make that decision is you. It is only a small thing but in this one thing I can offer you a choice. I learned a bit about you (Google is ubiquitous) and I think– I hope at any rate– that you might want to meet your daughter. All you have to do is contact me.”

Jamie forced himself to return to the call with Jenny instead of reading the letter in more detail.  

“Faith Julia.” Jamie finally spoke her name aloud.

Jenny let out a small “Oh. Faith Julia Fraser.” Jenny repeated. “Tis a lovely name. She is beautiful, mo chridhe.”

Jamie almost corrected her, almost said not Fraser but she was right. It sounded perfect to him as well.

Jenny did not want to break the connection, she wished she could drop everything and come into the city to be with him, lend him whatever strength she had.

Jenny still remembered the shock of losing their mother, Ellen and their brothers, Willie and Robert, in a car crash. She and Jamie had left the house that morning, Robert too young to go yet and Willie had a morning dental exam . Ellen was planning on dropping him off at school around lunch.

Jenny remembered walking to the principal’s office, Murtagh’s solemn expression as he ushered them into the car. Jamie squeezing her hand so tightly the whole way home; it was bloodless by the time they reached the house.

She thought about sitting with Jamie and her father in the oncologist’s  office, waiting with him for the test results that would tell them whether the cancer treatment was working. Jamie held her hand so tight that her fingers ached, but she didn’t ask him to let go.

Then, the time Jamie had burst through the A & E doors after hearing about Brian, it was she who held onto his hand until it lost all feeling. Separated by phone lines, her hands ached in memory wanting to hold his now.

“Jamie—” she started but closed her mouth, overwhelmed and having no idea of what she should say.

“Aye, Jenny, thank you.” Jamie said, knowing her heart to be too full to even make a start, as was his. “I will catch you up, soon as I may.”

“I love you.” Jenny said simply and broke the connection leaving Jamie to contemplate what to do.

Happily Ever After

We we’re talking about the song Marry You by Bruno Mars and I got into all the feels and felt the need to watch proposal videos, which lead to disney proposal videos, which lead us to this. Now me, being the Disney trash I am, just had to write this. It’s honestly all 100% fluff so I hope you enjoy it.

I apologize for any mistakes in this or anything weird. I haven’t really written anything in two years so I’m a little nervous lol.

This is a song you can listen to since it’s kind of what this is based off of. I tell you the moment to listen to it if you want to add the extra feels’


word count: 2,515

Keep reading

Dex's point of veiw

I totally didn’t cry while writing this.

Summary: well, it’s basically Dex’s point of view. Obviously many details were spared, so I didn’t have to write five books that are like 500 pages each.

Warnings: like one swear words, lots of sarcasm, some memories of the torture scene, LOTS OF ANGSTY FEELS.

Word count: 2,026


My name is Dex Dizznee. If you know who Sophie Foster is, you know me. By default. Or as the one guy who happened to be with her when she was kidnapped. (When that’s mentioned, everyone seems to forget that I was there because I was the only friend that was willing to go after her- and knew where she’d be.) Either that, or I’m The One Guy With The Bad Match Parents And Rebel Mother.

I’ve never really been known as Dex.

But it’s who I am and I’m sick of keeping it all to myself.

There’s more to me than people think.

More to me than the circlet that “I made Sophie wear because I made it even though I didn’t know that was what the council was going to use it for.”

It all started when I was born. Obviously, it happened before- not that I’d be able to remember.

I didn’t really realize it at first. Why my parents hugged me so close to them when I was public. The glares that they’d get shot, the whispers and fake smiles that were meant towards me. And my parents.

The first time I heard the term “Bad Match.” It was from a very snotty man with an overdone, fancy cape- the kind my parents weren’t allowed to wear- and a small kid, around my age, that looked exactly like him. He had looked very sad- I had walked up to him in attempt to cheer him up, and his dad yelled something about my family not being “the kind his son spent time with.”

I stopped approaching people in public after that.

I didn’t really make friends- for obvious reasons. The only people I spent time with were my parents, and when they were born, the triplets. My aunt Edaline and Uncle Grady, as well. I avoided people at all costs- either at slurps and burps, helping my dad or at home. Reading. Preparing myself to be good in school- I didn’t tell my parents this, but it definitely wasn’t because I was afraid I wouldn’t manifest. It clearly wasn’t because if I was going to Foxfire, I’d have to prove my worth by being good at it.

When I turned 11 and finally was ready for Foxfire, I was so excited. Maybe… maybe I’d have a chance. Not everyone could know me as the offspring of a bad match. Not everyone would dispose of me like the trash I clearly was- maybe they’d like me. I was determined to make them like me.

Not to say much, but that backfired. On the first day of Foxfire I approached this girl. She’s was really scrawny, and about my height. I talked to her and some of her friends for a bit- then she told me her name.

“I’m Stina Heks.” She said proudly. I grinned. Stina. My first friend. And in that moment, my only friend. “Aren’t you going to say yours?” She asked, giggling. I blushed.

“Yeah! Sorry.” I didn’t really know how it worked. “I’m Dex. Dex Dizznee!” I beamed- but Stina’s expression went sour.

“You’re a Dizznee? Aren’t the most recent ones a bad match? The one with the triplets?”

“And that really weird alchemy shop? With all the bright colors?”

I gaped at her and didn’t respond. She rolled her eyes, and she and her small group of people left. I remained there until everyone left for their classes.

Away from everyone else. Especially the ones with the blue eyes.

I made it on my own that year. I ate lunch in the corner of the room every day before one of my teachers approached.

“Hey. You’re dex, right?” She asked, in a voice that was much kinder that what you would assume from all the hate she gets.


“You know, you could take your lunch up to my room. I could let you use some of the chemicals, and get you into some of the more advanced alchemy. You’re skill is obviously far better than an average first year. Besides, your alchemy session is right after this.”

I accepted her offer, because I had wanted to do more alchemy. Not because I was sitting in the corner, on the verge of tears because all the tables were taken and I was too afraid to ask to sit at any of them. Just for the chemicals. They’re better than friends anyways.

I don’t think I talked to anyone in that first year.

Except for one guy.

His eyes were teal and made me question a lot of things.

LIKE if I could make a serum for that color. Nothing else, duh.

He introduced himself.

To me.

Because we were somehow put together in a splotching match. No one went with Fitz… he’d beat them immediately. Even the older ones. Not even Keefe Sencen, his best friend, would be with him.

And of course, no one wanted to be with me.

“I’m Fitz Vacker.” Like I didn’t know that.

“I’m Dex.” I replied, very quickly. The match starts, and I wind up on the floor, covered in green. In like, two seconds flat. The older boy smiles at me, helps me up, then goes off to the next round.

I’m not sure what to feel, so I go sit on the bleachers.

A couple days later, I tried to approach him. I swear. Not like he remembered me without the green paint everywhere, so that hello ended quickly.

Nothing. All year. I shoved out every memory of the teal eyes-
And continued ignoring Stina. She grew like 5 inches, and apparently becoming tall made her attitude even worse. She taunted me every day.

Perfect world my ass.

The first little while of the next year went the same, for the most part.

Then Sophie came around.

And… I had a friend. A real friend, who… didn’t care that I was a bad match child, or that I had siblings that were triplets. And I loved her. There was no questioning that.

Sure, now I know that maybe my love for her was me trying to convince myself that she was my soulmate. Or, probably me not knowing what it felt like to have a friend- so I over exaggerated the feelings I did have for her.

But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t love her.

Then, Fitz came into the picture. With his perfect hair and perfect blue eyes and perfect family. And… I couldn’t handle losing my best friend. The way she looked at him- i knew how she felt about him.

I couldn’t handle losing her.

And I definitely didn’t want to admit that I was offended he forgot my name.

I shouldn’t have been. I wasn’t all that noticeable. Even covered in neon green paint.

Not that I wanted him to notice me, of course.

It didn’t take long for things to escalate. You probably know the story from there- Biana and her friends, blah blah blah. Terrible at alchemy, blah blah blah. Keefe. Yep.

And then… Stina. Back at it again with her snide comments. And Sophie… she handled it the same way I would have. She ran.

I was the only one with the decency to follow. Well, I was also the only one who knew where she’d go.

Then the kidnapping.

I’m sure you’ve heard about how bad it was for her. The sedatives.

Maybe I sound apathetic here, but god I wish I had sedatives.

Imagine being trapped in a tiny cell. Now imagine who you believed to be the love of your life was in the next room, possibly being tortured. You know that the people here could easily kill you both.

Most of what I remember is them telling me not to move as they burned my arms. And my stomach. Them telling me they’d hurt her if I made a sound. A ragged voice laughing at me when I showed the fact that I was in pain. A thumb searing my skin. The smell of my own cooking flesh.

The constant knowledge that I most likely wouldn’t make it out alive.

But we did. We made it out together, and it was because of her. Because of Sophie.

I mean, the melder wasn’t fun.

And the fact that Sophie almost died (again) to protect me isn’t fun.

But hey! I manifested not long after that. And I’ve learned to love my ability.

The next year… well, you know what took place. Alden, Alicorn, Exile, cave, another ability, cave, Kenric, the list goes on.

Then there was the request.

From the council.

I was surprised. And so I did it.

Because finally, I was going to be something. Someone. I was going to get something out of my talent, I was going to be recognized for… something other than being the child of a bad match.

I was going to be appreciated by the society that showed me nothing but hate. I was going to prove them wrong- that I was better than they’re expectations.

Or… maybe I wouldn’t.

As soon as I realized who the circlet would be for, I knew… I regretted everything. Sophie didn’t deserve that.

The pain in her eyes was enough to break my heart.

Shatter it.

Burn it in everblaze.

Then repair it just to stomp on it again.

Sophie… she was in so much pain because of my selfishness.

And to make matters worse, she still blamed me for it. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, but it didn’t make me happy.

She didn’t jut blame me, though. She hated me.

I’m surprised she forgave me.

I didn’t really deserve her forgiveness.

I took it off so she could warn the others, and boy was I excited for what the council would say about that.

Not that I cared. I didn’t need their acceptance. I didn’t need to change- the society did.

And after that we left for The Black Swan, so I didn’t need to worry. I hate to admit, but I constantly felt I the background. Out of the picture- except for when convenient. Like when I had to hack into the files.

Meeting Tam and Linh was nice. They understood that the way society treated people wasn’t right. I needed that.

Sophie didn’t really put a lot of acknowledgement into things she couldn’t fix.

I continued to sneer and pretend to hate Mr. Perfect though. Wondeboy. He stole my best friend. The one I thought I loved. He took her and left me in the background.

That’s obviously why I hated those beau- teal eyes of his. And his perfectly styled hair. And perfect teeth, skin, body, jawline, etc.

Then he was impaled by a giant bug. And I… couldn’t hate him anymore. I was so sick of it.

Admitting that to a sweat and puke soaked Fitz wasn’t easy. Apologizing to a Vacker… wasn’t easy.

But I did it.

Keefe left and came back.

Sophie forgave him, even though he didn’t deserve it.

Forkle died.

And long after that, the Neverseen did too.

The Council realized a lot of the ways that the society was broken.

Released the ban on pyrokinetics.

Stopped discriminating families who chose to have multiple children, and families who had twins.

I kept getting pushed to the background, until I realized that I needed to use the voice I didn’t think I had when I was younger.

It completely stopped after others realized that I was stronger than them considering me “the child of a bad match”. There’s nothing wrong with being the child of a bad match. What was wrong was them saying my parents were a bad match.

I say I’m married because I am. I say I’m short because I am. I say my parents were considered bad match because they were.

They’re fixing the system now.

Love is no longer discriminated by genetics.

You can still get your list, but it’s merely a suggestion now.

That discrimination will take a long time to change, but it will.

Especially if me and my husband Fitz have anything to say about it.


Beast Boy is going to be fine. Really, he’s doing great. All he has to do is not openly stare at Raven. That’s easy. He doesn’t stare at Raven all the time. Perfect. As long as he’s not staring at Raven, he doesn’t have to think about how she’s wrapped up in dark blue, and how the fabric has been tailored specifically for her, so that the clothing falls perfectly over her breasts and stomach and hips, to the long slit up her leg so every step she takes gives him a view up to her thigh. He doesn’t have to think about the heels that make the long, strong lines of her legs stand out. He doesn’t have to think of the bra she must be wearing to force her breasts up and together, so that a surprising amount of cleavage peeks out of her dress. He doesn’t have to think about how Starfire has given Raven perfect no-makeup makeup, so Raven looks as if she’s just fallen out of bed as a perfect ten.

“Dude, have you forgotten how to act like you’re in love with a girl?” Cyborg says dryly, looking at him. “Seriously, do I need to show you how it’s done?”

Keep reading

Americas Favorite Couple || Calum Hood

you’ll have whatever imagine u want, anon <3

Summary: You and Calum are both famous and known as Americas Favorite Couple. You show off that love on a late night show hosted by James Corden. 

I M A G I N E 

“Hold still– your shirt is a bit wrinkled!” You hissed at Calum as you were fixing the wrinkle at the hem of his shirt. The two of you were getting ready to be interviewed on the Late Late Show with James Corden. And so while the backstage crew was attaching mics on you two, they happened to wrinkle Calums Blink-182 shirt. 

“Babe, it’s fine!” Calum said with a chuckle, playfully swatting your hand away. You pout, causing him to grab your wrists to hold you close. He wrapped his arms around your neck and began to slowly go in circles with you. “Don’t worry about my shirt, okay?” Calum murmured at your ear. 

“Alright, okay,” you said, wrapped your arms around his body to resume going in slow circles. “Stop being so large. It makes me feel super duper small! You’re literally glomping my entire body.”

“But I like being large,” Calum said, feeling him lightly attack your neck with little pecks. “It makes you seem more cute. You’re so small in my hold, I can’t help but love you more than I already do. Sorry, Y/N.” You grabbed a bit of his shirt in both hands, smiling against his chest. 

“I love you, Calum,” you say audible enough so only he can hear. 

“Now you’re really wrinkling my shirt, Y/N,” Calum said, chuckling. You immediately let go of his shirt and blush. Calum softly grabs your shoulders and detaches you from his body, making you sad from the lost embrace. “But I love you, too.” You two smiled at each other adoringly before sharing a passionate kiss. Some of the crew had given you guys “aw”s and stares of envy. 

“Welcome back to the show!” The both of you heard James say as a series of applause from the crowd. The cameras had their lights glow red and everything was back to being live. “I have two guests with us today. One of them is a good lad of mine from a band I’m no longer a part of,” James said, emphasizing his ‘anger’ jokingly. “And he came with his lovely girlfriend. Please welcome Calum Hood and Y/First/N Y/Last/N!” Calum immediately grabbed your hand and led you to the host. You shyly look away from the crowd, as you still weren’t too eager about being in public and live on TV. 

“James!” Calum cheered as James got up to hug him. They had a heartfelt, manly hug, murmuring a few things at each with chuckles at the end of it. You passed Calum to go hug James. James told you how glad he was to see you and asked how you were. You mouthed a ‘good’ with a smile before joining Calum at the love seat that the show provided as you two were a couple.

“Thanks for coming on, mate,” James said, smiling at the both of you happily. 

“It’s honestly a pleasure to be here,” Calum says for the both of you, having you nod in agreement. You had your hand in Calums, with your fingers weaved together. You didn’t want to admit that you were pretty nervous, but Calum felt you shake in his hold. 

“So, I’ve seen on Instagram, Vine, Snapchat, all those medias, that you guys have been doing well,” James starts, still smiling at the both of you. “And you guys are absolutely adorable, absolutely.” As he praises, Calum says thanks in small mumbles. “My favorite, I think, is how you take pictures or recordings of Y/N in the morning wherever you guys are and you always caption it about her natural beauty.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N hates it when I do that stuff,” Calum says, chuckling as you gave him a playful death stare. “But I’ve been on this mission to prove to her how gorgeous she is without the makeup. Don’t get me wrong– she’s lovely with makeup. But I just want her to know that she is gorgeous 24/7.”

“You still don’t believe him?” James asked you with a shocked expression. 

“Nope,” you said, giving James a small smile as the crowd laughs and claps for you. “It’s um, hard to believe when you’ve been put down most of your life. It really does a huge punch in your confidence and causes insecurity.” The crowd shares a long ‘aww’ as Calum gives you a sad face. When he met you, you were completely torn on that. You would deny every compliment and cake yourself with makeup and try your best to have that perfect body that’s plastered all over the media. But, since you’ve gotten to know Calum, you’ve loosened up and found yourself easing off the desire to be perfect. 

“But I’m gonna prove it to you, babe,” Calum says, squeezing your hand a bit. “I’m not gonna stop trying, I promise.” He gives you a small peck on the cheek, blushing furiously as James fanboyed over the two of you.

“I’m telling you– absolutely adorable!” James exclaims at the camera as the crowd gave you a loud applause. “There’s this one video of the two of you that I’m obsessed with, and that’s the one where you two sing Fight Song, and Calum just focuses on you. Can we play that clip for us? Thanks,” James gestures to the crew as the video the two of you made pops up on the big screen behind and above you guys. You were using a piano app on your phone to do the simple chords while the both of you were still in your pajamas and looking absolutely exhausted.

“Like a small boat, on the ocean,” you sang, focusing yourself on the piano app in your hands. 

“Sending big waves, into motion,” Calum sang after you, looking at you with complete adoration. 

“Like how a single word can make a heart open…” You did the next line, smiling a bit as Calum still stared at you. You then looked up and into his eyes to sing to each other the next lyric. 

“I might only have one match,” you both sang quietly, your hands removing themselves from the piano app to finish the small part of the song. “But I can make an explosion.” Once you guys finished, Calum smashed his lips on yours, causing you to giggle before the video cut off.

“Bless them!” James praised again, making you blush while Calum was giving a cheeky smile. “Anyways, there’s a sort of trend going on where people have been calling you guys ‘Americas Favorite Couple,’ d’you know about this?”

“Um, yeah, actually,” you said with a sheepish voice and a small giggle. “It’s like, all over my twitter like, #Y/Ship/N or #AmericasFavoriteCouple like, all over my feeds. And it’s like, calm down, there’s a lot of other couples who act lovey and caring like we do.”

“Except you concern yourself immensely over the wrinkle on my shirt,” Calum reminded you, snorting a bit. You playfully hit his arm, causing the audience to laugh with you guys. 

“She was concerned over a wrinkle on your shirt?” James asked, his voice sounding as though he couldn’t even believe it. 

“Yeah, before we came out here, there was a wrinkle on the hem of my shirt,” Calum said, laughing. “And she was fretting over it like a mad woman. She then proceeded to complain over how large I was compared to her.” You huffed, shifting around on your seat with discomfort. You didn’t like the couch. “Are you uncomfortable, babe?” Calum whispered to you with concern in his eyes. You gave him a small nod. He then grabbed you by the waist and sat you down on his legs, having the audience go insane. 

“I think I’m gonna explode from how cute and real you two are,” James comments, leaning his face on his hand. “Like, why can’t I have this? I try taking photos of my wife when she’s asleep and she growls like a lion at me.”

“You act like Y/N doesn’t do that,” Calum jokes, both men chuckling with each other. Calum grabs the water provided for the two of you, taking a sip before handing it to you. You sip like a little child, making Calum bite his bottom lip at you. 

“Well, we do have to take a break,” James announces. “When we come back, these two are going to sing for us.” The crowd claps as you resume sipping water. “But before we go, can I ask for something, Calum?”

“Ask away, James,” Calum said genuinely, giving him a sweet smile. 

“Can Y/Ship/N kiss for the camera?” James asked, having the crowd agree. You blushed, keeping your mouth in the cup with water waving at your top lip. The crowd began to cheer ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ as you kept blushing and sipping the water nervously. 

“C’mere, Y/N,” Calum said, chuckling lightly as he took the cup from your small hands. You continued to blush with water glistening on your lips. Calums large hands cupped your cheeks, with his thumb brushing them lightly. He then pulled your lips on his, causing the both of you to close your eyes while you shared this passionate kiss. At that moment, it didn’t feel like you were on a late night show doing an interview in front of a hundred people. It felt like it was just you and Calum, and that’s all you needed in your life to keep on. 

“Aw, Americans Favorite Couple everyone!” James announces, pointing at the two of you. You guys stop kissing and blush, waving bye to the camera with the crowd going absolutely wild. 

And during the entire break, Calum would not let go of your hand. 

k first off, i dont own the song i used the lyrics from. its a rlly good song, so like, check it outttt. anyways, hope you guys liked this imagine. like, this was actually a rlly cute request. thnx anon <3 please do send more requests n stuff <33 


REQUESTS < please send in requests or any questions you have for me or if you just wanna tell me stuff lol