chair company

A is turning 30 (or 40 whatever y'all consider old but not too old) and having an early mid life crisis about being forever alone and B is their flirty co worker who’s low-key attractive and has been hitting on A since the first day. A never takes them seriously.

B: Yeah you do tell me to fuck off a lot

A: Lol fuck off

B: See you just did it again!

A: *Shakes their head even though they’re smiling*

B: Listen just join me for lunch today, please. Give me a chance.

A: *Stares at them for a while* *Calculates the odds of this all going to shit* *Odds turn out to be 100%* *Sighs* Ok. What have I got to lose anyways?

B: Well, your heart for one. *winks disgustingly as they tug A out their wheely chair towards the company elevator*

Enough Is Enough (addict!Sherlock x reader)

A/N: I thought of watching Sherlock today to get my inspiration back, and it worked!! Also I love the grey sweat pants on Sherlock, I don’t know why but I just do.

Warnings: Drugs, alcohol, fluff. And Mycroft. HAHA

You had been used to Sherlock’s quirks. Some of them happened on daily basis as others you encountered rarely enough to count them out. One of them was his drug addiction. You had witnessed it twice by now and it had been enough for you to form an opinion on your addicted partner. Yes, you called him your partner rather than boyfriend, it was the result of your conversation while you discussed your relationship status and even if it sounded like you were just as heartless and up tight as Mycroft Holmes it wasn’t true. You had always had mixed feelings for the word boyfriend, as you were an adult and so was Sherlock, so why call him that, when you could address him with something more appropriate. This of course didn’t surprise anyone, for they ha already wrapped their pretty little head around the fact that you and Sherlock were together and matched in a way no one could’ve ever imagined anyone to with Sherlock.

You didn’t complain about Sherlock’s drug use. You knew no one was a saint and he usually, or so he claimed to be, used when he needed. It was a bit obscure for someone to need to get high while working but Sherlock had always been different to say the least so you let it pass. Or tried to. Then there was the amount he had used at those previous times and you had to admit him being right those times. The amount had been so little you had suspected he had even taken all that for a case, but like always you let it go. But this time wasn’t the same.

You had stayed over the night at Baker Street, at Sherlock’s flat and just like every other time, you slept longer than Sherlock. You always had his word for sleeping next to him, but rarely did so, or had tried not to, knowing he wasn’t one to cuddle and even once fell off the bed when you had moved too close for his liking in his sleep. An argument had erupted from that as you had declined his suggestion of saying over the second time and sleeping with him in his bed. You had told him you could sleep on the couch, the night had closed in and Sherlock, wether he admits it or not, didn’t want you wondering about London alone in the nights after the ’study in pink’ cabby incident he had years ago. You told he you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by sleeping close to him to which he answered he had moved in his sleep, not being able to control his movements. You had given into his command on staying and sharing the bed, but had tried to keep still the whole night. Good thing you could control your body while sleeping if you really concentrated on it. Sherlock on the other hand had been clinging on you the whole night, trying to prove you he could let you get close to him, and as you were both adults you had another fight.

From there on you avoided even talking about sleep. When you did stay over longer than supposed to, you faked you had fallen asleep on the couch while Sherlock was distracted by work. It never took you too long to actually fall asleep, before Sherlock went to bed or after, it always depended how soon after you had drifted off he’d go to bed, but always he pulled a blanket over you before heading off to his room. Sometimes you could hear him grunt when he noticed you sleeping and you could tell he would’ve wanted to sleep with you at those nights, but you still kept this act up, until Sherlock came up by his own tactic to evade this problem. He started to take his work to his bed and since you were helping him and assisting you couldn’t deny him for doing so or even circle around his sly way of getting you to sleep next to him by nights. You didn’t last long on his comfy bed with all the papers and text you had to read in the dimly lit room, your eye lids growing heaving sooner when you did your work in his bedroom, but that didn’t stop him from doing so. He was only humored by your little game and you being too polite and plain bored of all this playing and games let it be.

Last night had been the same for you, you had fallen asleep after two hours of work, face first falling on the cushions, next to the papers you had just been trying to read and memorize. Sherlock had noticed your tiredness before your eyes started closing and he eyed you, humored by your tries to stay awake until you lost your inner battle and fell asleep. He always lay a duvet over your body,  pulling the blankets aside before getting to work with you since he knew you would drift off before him and now had no problem with tugging you in. And after an hour or two doing the same, laying next to you and pulling you close to him under the covers.

You woke up in an empty bed, the side next to you cold by now while you tried the empty space with your hand, patting the mattress. You heard sounds from the living room and kitchen area and were sure Sherlock was on to something. He didn’t make much noise, knowing you’d wake up if he was to make a racket, trying quietly go through the cabinets for clothes and what ever he would be needing. He had already had tea, Mrs. Hudson always made two cups for the both of you but hadn’t yet found out Sherlock was usually the one emptying the cups as you were still fast asleep.

You rolled on to your back, stretching your hands upwards to reach the ceiling and a pleasurable smirk spreading on your lips. There was nothing better than a good morning stretch and you were sure no one would be to disagree with that. Your legs and toes tensed and you tried to get the best of your morning work out, tossing and turning on the bed as you tried to get the stimulation to other parts in your body. The thin blanket around you wrapped around you when you rolled and when you went to get up you nearly fell. You had been now entirely tied up by the sheet, but able to pry it off of you you tossed the sheet on the bed in a bundle and scouted to pick your clothes from the floor. You always slept in a top or a shirt at Sherlock’s, not sure how he’d react if he’d find you topless next to him in the morning and not really looking forward to that you kept as much clothes on as you could. Now you pulled you pants and socks on and let your hands go through your hair. You gazed at the bed before opening the door. Right then Sherlock dashed by you, entering his room with a quick good morning and went through the papers you had studied just yesterday. You told him the same and went to the living room, taking comfortable position on his chair. You knew he didn’t mind you doing so, at least when he was leaving the apartment. You knew well enough from his hurried movement that he was on to something with his previous case and would leave the apartment in any second now.

You took the tea cup next to the chair that was companied with an empty one, yours half way through, but still warm enough for you to finish. You always enjoyed those mornings when you could just watch everyone else making a rush, hurrying to work and you could just sit by and look. Unfortunately the tea tasted plain for your liking, but you sipped all of it anyways. You wiggled your toes inside of your socks on the chair, the cool fabric trying to break through the clothes. You loved Sherlock’s chair. It looked nice and it felt soft and comfy. Pity you didn’t get to sit on it often.

Sherlock came from his room not looking towards you, his whole body covered in two sizes too big clothing. He had grey sweat pants and a dark blue hoodie, the hood being pulled over his shaggy hair when he hurried to the stairs and called for you, informing he’d go out now to work on a case to which you answered wishing him good luck. The door closed right behind him with a soft bang and the flat was filled with silence. You waited a second, then two trying to control yourself. You had seen him in those clothes before and it always made your stomach turn. Nothing good ever followed when he went out dressed like that and it made you sad and disturbed. You thought of calling Mycroft and asking him to send someone to keep an eye on his little brother but knew Sherlock would notice right away if someone would be to follow him. Also there was John, but you figured not to bother him so you decided to just wait it out.

The day went by slowly and you couldn’t help but keep thinking what Sherlock was doing right now. You hoped for the best and that he wouldn’t disappear for days or weeks on his mission. You would hate that to happen since you knew you wouldn’t hesitate to call someone on his ass if he’d be out longer than a day or so. He hadn’t mentioned how long he’d be out, maybe to evade you from questioning or he really didn’t know. This made your mind go nuts, making all these alternate future possibilities where he’d come home after a week or being found and brought to hospital or even worse. You shook your head at your imagination going wild and decided to do something that would take your mind off of Sherlock.

It had been about eight hours now that Sherlock had left and you started to get bored. He hadn’t asked you to wait for him so you were free to leave, but wishful thinking of him finding his way back home kept you there. Now you were second guessing your decision, but couldn’t leave just yet before eating. You had started to feel hungry, the last time you ate was three hours ago. You were just getting to the kitchen when you heard the front door open and shouting filling the flat. You went to the door that gave you a view of the hallway and the stairs and saw Sherlock and John.

”I told you I’m clean!” Sherlock shouted frustratedly waving his hands in the air. His hair was still a mess but his face had changed. There were circles under his eyes and he looked like he had been up the whole last night, then again you didn’t know had he been, but at the morning as much as you had seen him, which was not much, he had looked normal to you.

”You don’t look clean to me and I’m a bloody doctor!” John snapped back as he pulled the door close behind him with a loud bang. He eyed Sherlock with a nasty scowl and leaned close to him, trying to intimidate his taller friend who was not impressed by his though act, more humored than taken aback. ”I have told you countless of times not to do this to yourself, and I’m saying it again, STOP DOING THIS IT WON’T HELP YOU ACHIEVE ANYTHING!” His voice echoed in the staircase and you flinched at the sudden change of volume. Sherlock on the other hand didn’t move a muscle and glared at his friend. ”And I’ve said I haven’t taken anything!” He shouted in John’s face.

”Oh don’t pull that shit with me, Sherlock.” John mused, but his voice was deceiving. It was clear that he was far from amused by the situation at hand. He just used sarcasm often. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Sherlock, trying to get glimpses of him that would give away how mush he had taken by now. Sherlock had covered himself well enough for it wasn’t evident what and how much he had taken, but that didn’t make John stop. ”You could’ve called me! You have any idea what it will be to explain to everyone how you almost ended up in the hospital for over dose?”

”That has happened before.” Sherlock muttered as if it changed anything. ”And who said you have to explain this to anyone? I haven’t taken anything and it was a misunderstanding. I am clear.” Sherlock stated calmly and headed up the stairs, John right behind him, yelling, ”I’m not covering up for you only because you claim to be clear! You should thank me for not calling Mycroft on your arse by now!”

You took a step away from the door, getting back to the kitchen. You waited for Sherlock and John to arrive to the living room and as they did John looked at you worriedly while Sherlock tried to play it cool. ”Oh, you’re still here, good, I were in a need of assistance.” Sherlock said and looked around, searching for something or he was to restless to keep up the eye contact and stay put. ”I’m leaving.” You announced and took you jacket that had been laying on the backside of John’s arm chair. You pulled it over yourself and passed through the two men without saying another word. You were fuming from rage. This was the last drop. John had stepped aside, his eyes wide and body tense as he sensed your silent rage, he was married for god’s sake and knew when a man was in trouble and this was it. Of course he would be the one explaining this to Sherlock after you had left.

You knew it wasn’t the best idea to get hammered after encountering your partner in that state, but you needed to clear your head so you went to a bar far from Baker Street just in case John would wonder around. You offered a shot and a big drink, with a one sip finishing the shot and hitting the bottom of it to the table. The drink you drank slower, sipping it slowly and trying to enjoy the taste but soon gave up on enjoying the drink and instead started ordering liquors that tasted bad but strong. You didn’t stay long, after three drinks you started to feel bad enough to leave the bar. You were alms home, but decided to avenge Sherlock’s way of ruining your day by calling a cab. You knew he weren’t there to see you get into the cab and would probably never know of it, but you felt good going behind his back and rebelling.

When you got home it was almost 11pm and you decided to go to bed, taking your shoes and jacket off, but leaving all the other clothes on for the lack of care. You would be undressing yourself in your sleep if needed to. Not even bothering on checking your phone or that did it even have any power left you let yourself fall face first on the bed, pulling the blanket over your body. You curl up and let tears fall over your cheeks as the alcohol has started to wear off. You felt bad for going drinking and for letting Sherlock get under your skin like that. You had known this would happen sooner or later, you’d seen it before and still here you are, crying. You would have probably hit yourself by now if weren’t too sleepy so you concentrated on trying to stop crying and try to get some rest.

You woke up early the next morning, your head felt dizzy but not too bad. Your stomach was also turning but you could handle it. You just needed a minute or two for it to calm down. Your body and mind protested against getting up just yet but you graved for your phone and when you finally found it from the pocket of your jacket you saw there were five missed calls and twelve messages. All the calls were from John, the text too. He apologized for you having to see Sherlock in that state and he asked how you were. On one of them he told you he had recommended Sherlock not to try contact with you since it wouldn’t end well for him or you. One of the messages had arrived an hour ago. There he asked were you okay and safely home, and to this you answered by informing him you were home and just woke up. He was relieved that you texted back, but then he opened up a conversation your were not ready for.

John texted you that he had indeed called Mycroft after you left yesterday, who had informed Sherlock that leaving his apartment wasn’t even an option for him since now some of Mycroft’s henchmen were keeping an eye on the flat twenty-four seven. He told you if you wanted to see Sherlock it would be up to you, letting you know he couldn’t get to you by himself if you didn’t count phones that is. You of course had no desire of seeing him which John understood but still tried to bend you to go over there, not necessarily today but soon. Sherlock would appreciate it he assured you. As your texting came to an end, John needing to get to work you received a message. From Sherlock this time. He asked were doing anything particular today to which you stated coldly, I’m not coming over. And put your phone away.

You didn’t intend to leave your house and you were already half way through it, when your phone informed you of a message. You looked at the screen and was from Mycroft. It said, Go visit him before he does something stupid, he’s becoming impossible to keep inside the house and I can’t have the press finding out he’s using again. you sighed at his way of not dancing around the problem and how he was always able to get you do what he wanted, and then another text message came from Mycroft. The car will be there in two minutes. You groaned. Why had he always need to be so pushy? You were thankful it was Sherlock you dated instead of Mycroft.

The car pulled over your house when the two minutes had passed and you had to admit that maybe Mycroft had problem with being in control of everything like Sherlock always suggested. You climbed in the car, greeting Mycroft’s little henchmen girl that was texting back to his boss of the trip over to the Baker Street. You didn’t bother by chatting with her as you knew well enough it would only irritate you or the girl wouldn’t even answer to half of your questions. When finally the ride was over the car left. You hesitated for awhile. You could maybe try and flee but as your thoughts went through your head you received a message. Don’t even think about it.

You sighed and went for the door, opening it and getting inside. You heard noise from upstairs and a familiar voice yelling, ”I’m still here as you know, but I will find a way out soon enough.” You shook your head and gazed about the lobby. It was dark and gloomy, you wanted so bad to just leave and not come back but you knew Mycroft wouldn’t have that. You had no choice but to do as he said, you taking the first step on the stairs as you answered to Sherlock with a loud voice, ”Good to know I didn’t come here for nothing.” And the living room upstairs grew silent. Soon Sherlock’s head peeked from the end of the stairs and he smiled at you. You walked up the stairs, keeping your distance even if he tried to bring you close to a hug.

”I’m here because your brother forced me to come. Don’t get any ideas.” You said and walked past him and sat on the long couch facing the fire place, the one you slept on at times. Sherlock followed you, but instead of sitting on his chair he sat next to you on the couch, close enough for your knees to touch. He was wearing his pajamas, purplish pants and a white shirt, his blue robe covering his arms which you were thankful of. You didn’t want to think how his arms looked like. You knew well enough there would be see through needle marks and even the thought made you sick to your stomach and to top it all you had been drinking last night.

”I would’ve appreciated it if you had stayed yesterday.” Sherlock said. ”I really needed your help with finishing the case.” He coldly explained. You could only see glimpses of him from yesterday every time you turned to look at him and it irritated you. He leaned closer and made you want to move further away from him, but didn’t. You knew he’d only grab onto you and pull you back to him if you did try to leave and there was Mycroft of course. You had to stay and try to solve this situation soon somehow if you wanted to get home before dark. You turned towards Sherlock. ”I couldn’t look at you when you were in that state.” You stated coldly.

”You have seen me in that state before.” Sherlock reminded, but earned a scowl from you and a scoff. You held your head high and snapped, ”You have never been in that deep. You’ve usually taken just a little or just smoked.” You narrowed your eyes. ”There is only enough I can take and you crossed it. I don’t need to bare everything just for your career.” This shut Sherlock up for a minute until he wondered out loud, ”You were worried about me?” You fixed your position and nodded your head. ”Well, I had never seen you in that deep.” You admitted. ”You went drinking.” He deduced. You hit his shoulder and glared at him. ”Yes, and who’s fault it that?” You asked and were sure Sherlock was about to tell you how he couldn’t care less for your pity on him and your emotions but instead looked down at his feet. The air got caught in your throat as you saw him regretting?

”I- I’m sorry, (Y/n).” And he turned to look at you, his eyes shining in the light that pooled into the living room from behind his back, from the window next to his desk. He pulled you to a hug and for a second you didn’t know what to do. Should you hug him back or just freeze? ”I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never want to do that for you.” Something in his words pinched your heart and you gripped the back of his robe, pulling him closer. ”Just please, stop doing that, Sherlock.” You whispered, about to start sobbing. ”I will, for you.” He whispered back. You held each other for a couple of minutes before Sherlock pulled away, he smirked at you and said, ”You still have to make yesterday up to me.” You pulled even further away from him and playfully narrowed your eyes at him, questioning him, ”Me?”

”Yes, you did take a cab at night even if I have specifically told you not to.” You didn’t even bother to ask him how he knew that so you just decided to roll your eyes at him. ”Also, I still need your help with the case.” He said and stood up, walking over to his desk and scooping up a pile of papers. You sat there and he came over to you, handing you the pile and going to take one for himself too, then heading towards his bedroom and calling for you, ”Come now.” You sighed. Here you go again. You’d have to stay at least over the night.

Where you belong Lin-Manuel + Daveed x Trans FTM Reader (platonic)


I haven’t opened up any prompts yet because LIFE STUFF meant that I’m not really able to commit to them fully right now, but this prompt came in my asks the other day and made my heart jump and I really wanted to write it. It’s a short platonic fic but feels very timely in light of Trump’s transphobic bathroom bullshit right now.

Prompt: Do you take requests? Not sure if this is something you wanna write so no pressure but would you maybe write something about reader coming out as FTM trans and either Lin or Daveed looking out for them/standing up for them? You write over protective Lin so well! - anon

This is pure platonic fluff with a bit of over protective Lin and Daveed.

Warnings: Trigger warnings for descriptions of misgendering.

Word count: 1965

———————

“Excuse me can I get another…”

You tried to get the waiter’s attention for the 3rd time as he skipped by your table, it was like you were invisible. You slumped back in your seat feeling embarrassed. Where were those guys? You looked down at your phone re-reading the last message from Lin.

Lin: Sorry! We are running late, be there in 15 mins. It’s all Daveed’s fault. 

That was 20 minutes ago. You were ready to head home when Lin burst in through the door followed by Daveed. Lin’s eyes searched frantically across the crowded burger joint until he spotted you in the booth at the back. He smiled and waved, and they headed over to join you.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” Lin said, pulling you in for a hug. “I know we’re late.” You stuck out your lip in mock indignation and Lin’s puppy eyes grew.

“That would be my fault” said Daveed sheepishly, giving you a big squeeze before sitting down to join you. “But it was for a good reason.”

Daveed pulled out a bag and put it on the table in front of you. “This is for you, man” Daveed said grinning.

Lin smiled knowingly as your face flushed with embarrassment.

“What’s this?”You asked shyly.
“”Maybe you should open it and find out!” Daveed mocked. Lin fidgeted excitedly like an anxious puppy and you could tell he was trying so hard not to ruin the surprise and tell you what was inside.

You opened the bag and pulled out a book. It was a copy of The Inheritance Trilogy, one of your all time favorites. But this was a first edition in a beautiful hardback you hadn’t seen before.

“Open it!” said Lin excitedly and Daveed shot him a look telling him to cool it.

You opened the book to find a handwritten dedication to you by the author herself, NK Jemisin.

“Wow. Just. Wow.Oh my god!”

NK Jemisin was your favorite author, she was the reason you’d started to focus on your own writing, you couldn’t even remember ever telling Daveed this.

“How did you  get this?”

“She came to the show last night” Daveed said, grinning. I was a total fanboy myself, and I knew you loved her work too but I didn’t have anything on me for her to sign for you. So she very kindly brought this round to the theater early this morning just for you.”

You shook your head in astonishment and you felt a warm fizzy feeling in your stomach.

“This is amazing! Thank you so much. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” said Daveed waving his hand. “Anyway, what’s this big news you have to tell us? You sounded pretty excited on the phone last night.”

You placed the book down and sat upright, taking a sip of water and clearing your throat.

“Well um, it’s good news. I uh, I’ve been given a date for my top surgery, it’s next month. It’s finally happening, and I just really needed to tell someone.”

You looked down at your hands as you spoke, too nervous to make eye contact with Daveed and Lin. They knew you were trans, you’d come out to them last year when you first met while working as an intern at the Public and you’d remained friends ever since. They’d accepted it without question, but even still, telling someone news like this felt scary. It was actually happening.

“Are you serious? Holy shit Y/N that’s amazing news!” Lin reached over clapping you on the back and squeezing your shoulder. “I’m so pleased for you” he said, grinning, his eyes wide with excitement.

“That’s the best news man, that’s so great! I know it must feel like you’ve been waiting forever for this.” Daveed said, flashing you a wide smile.

You let out a huge sigh. “Yeah, the referral process took so long, it’s been… Well it’s been rough, you know that. But I’m just so relieved. A bit scared. But mostly excited.”

“And how’s your mom been” Lin asked cautiously.

“Um, she’s… well she’s getting better at accepting it. She’s still not ok with it all though.” you said, looking back down and playing with the napkin in your hands. You hadn’t realized you were tearing it into pieces until Lin reached over and placed his hands on your arm, the torn tissue fell onto the table. You looked up and he smiled softly.

“She’ll get there.” He said gently and you nodded, your throat thick with emotion.

“And if you ever need a place to stay…” Daveed offered. You looked away, that warm fizzing feeling in your stomach again.

You nodded and swallowed. “I’m just gonna head to the bathroom a sec, order me a burger would you?”

You stood up from the table and headed to the restrooms. Things hadn’t gone so well with your mom, and telling her about your upcoming surgery had ended in tears and arguments. Hearing Lin and Daveed be so supportive without any hesitation was overwhelming. It was nice to feel accepted for a change. You just didn’t want them to see you with tears in your eyes.

You pushed open the door to the men’s restroom when you heard someone call

“Miss? Miss? Where do you think you’re going, you can’t go in there!”

You looked behind you to find the same waiter who had been ignoring you for the last 20 minutes. You looked at his name tag, he wasn’t just a waiter, he was the manager.

“Um, I’m just going to pee”, you said nervously, looking down at the floor.

You’d think with all the practice you had of being questioned about your bathroom choices, that you’d be great at standing up for yourself by now. But the truth is, it hadn’t got any easier.

The manager smirked at you, looking you up and down with his hands crossed in front of him.

“That’s the men’s bathroom, the ladies is down the hall where you belong” he said pointedly, raising his voice so that those seated nearby turned round to look while he grinned. Your face flushed red.

“Um yeah, I-I’m a guy. I’m trans.” you mumbled, cringing at having to out yourself to a perfect stranger.

“Yeah, like I said, the ladies bathroom is down the hall where you belong.” he continued loudly.

“Um ok, never mind.” you mumbled.

You turned around to head back to your seat, bumping into Daveed who had come to find you holding a laminated menu.

“Hey we’re getting chilli fries instead, Lin says do you want in?” he asked and you looked down at the ground, wishing it would swallow you up.

“Is this lady with you?” the manager asked Daveed, still smiling smugly.

Daveed shot the manager a look.

“Excuse me? He asked incredulously.

“I just found this young lady trying to sneak into the men’s bathroom, it’s disgusting.” he said, snickering.

“Wait, hold up, what did you just call him?” Daveed demanded.

“It’s ok, please just drop it.” You said, your eyes pleading with Daveed. You didn’t want a scene, you just wanted to be invisible. You quickly headed back into the restaurant, your face hot and your ears ringing, the manager stood behind the counter watching. He leaned over to his co-worker pointing you out and whispering behind his hand. “Freak” you heard him whisper as you walked past.

“What’s wrong?” Lin asked as you sat down.

Daveed slipped into the booth next to you shaking his head furiously. “Some bullshit bathroom policy. They won’t let him pee.”

“You are fucking kidding me?” Lin said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re leaving.” Daveed said, picking up his jacket to go.

“No please, I honestly don’t want a scene.” you begged, wishing for the same anonymity everyone else in the restaurant seemed to have.

“Oh my god, Lin-Manuel Miranda, I’m such a huge fan!”

You looked up to see the manager now stood by your table, his eyes wide in astonishment and squealing at the great Lin-Manuel Miranda sitting opposite you. You had somehow turned invisible again, and he didn’t even notice you sitting there. Daveed turned round to see him and immediately started shaking his head. Lin however smiled politely, the same friendly smile he gave to all fans.

Your heart sunk as you watched Lin smiling warmly while the manager babbled on at Lin, telling him how he loved Hamilton and was such a huge fan blah blah blah. That was the great thing about Lin, he always had time for fans. He’d be in the middle of the street running for the subway, but he’d still stop and chat, making that person feel special for just a couple of minutes. You looked down at your hands again, you couldn’t watch Lin be polite to him, and you sank lower in your seat, hoping he wouldn’t look up and notice you, you didn’t want any more hassle.

“..I mean I haven’t seen it yet, ‘cause you know, tickets are hard to get but I’ve listened to the soundtrack like a billion times, it’s so great, I can’t believe you’re here! Hey, can I get a picture with you?”

“Lin…” Daveed tried to interrupt. But Lin ignored him. “Sure!” he said, smiling sweetly.

He got up from his seat, moving around the table and over to the manager who was excitedly fishing around in his pocket for his phone.

“Except that since you won’t let my friend use the restroom here then I’m afraid we are leaving.”

You looked up. Lin’s warm smile was gone. He stood scowling, squaring his shoulders back and flexing his jaw.

Even though the manager was 6 ft, Lin seemed to be towering over him.

The manager looked behind Lin to see you sunken in your chair.

“It-it-it’s company policy” the manager stammered.

Lin shook his head, his eyes staring coldly and said in a calm tone “You’re an asshole” prompting Daveed to stifle a laugh.

The manager’s look of shock was soon replaced with annoyance. “It’s actually a matter of safety for our customers, we don’t want people like that scaring our clientele.”

Daveed reached over and grabbed your shoulder reassuringly and you watched Lin cross his arms, squaring up to the manager. He cocked his head and leaned forwards. “Bullshit.” said Lin with an icy stare. “Funny how you care so much about safety, but don’t give a shit about my friend’s safety over here.” Lin said, cocking his head back towards you.

Daveed stood up, gathering your jacket and book for you as you slowly climbed to your feet.

“We’ll be leaving now.” Daveed said.

“And maybe don’t try and get those Hamilton tickets” Lin sneered. I’m not sure you’d be welcome. It’s a matter of safety for our audience members, I’m sure you understand.” He smiled sweetly and spoke in a hushed tone, knowing you didn’t want a scene.

Lin threw his arm over your shoulder, clapping you on the back. “Let’s go” he said, his eyes never leaving the manager’s as he lead you out. Daveed followed behind scowling at the manager.

You didn’t look up until you were outside. “You ok?” Lin said, finally dropping the hard stare.

You took a breath and swallowed before nodding. “Yeah I am, thank you” you said earnestly and Daveed patted your shoulder knowing it was hard for you to talk about this stuff.

“Their chilli fries suck anyway” you said, wanting so desperately to change the conversation. “We should definitely go somewhere else.”

Daveed grinned at you. “Fuck their chilli fries” he said.

“Yeah, fuck their chilli fries” said Lin, smiling at you and leading the way.

Daughter  Jared Leto Imagine

Requested by Anonymous
Words: 5,382
Triggers/Warnings: Explicit language
Note: I’m so sorry to take so long to write it, I’ve been having writer’s block lately. I’m also sorry for naming the main character in this one, but I really needed. Feel free to insert your own name, I don’t mind at all. | Especial thanks to @jayded-dreams for helping me with the allergy stuff, you’re awesome hun <3

An AU where Jared has a daughter in 1997 at the sweet age of 25, being married for 2 years.

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My Fair Warrior: Part 8

Setting: McLean, Virginia and New York City, New York, USA, 2021

Summary: Several months after her failed wedding to Tamlin, Feyre’s situation has not improved, despite her sessions with Rhysand’s psychiatrist and periodic visits to his quiet home in McLean. A particularly nasty panic attack has Mor interceding on her behalf … and Rhys offering her a job.

Ship: N/A

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,290

A/N: Part 8 of my Modern AU. We’ve moved on to ACOMAF now. As before, some lines come directly from ACOMAF and belong to Sarah J. Maas. Also, yes, there’s some bending of the timeline thanks to human healing times and real-world logistics.

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2

The Empire State Building opened its doors on 1 May 1931.

Designed by William F. Lamb, who produced the architectural drawings in 2 weeks, the 102-story building took only 15 months to construct (410 days), averaging almost 4 ½ floors per week.

Former New York Governor Al Smith chaired the construction company and opened the doors for his grandchildren to be the first ones through the new building.

Opened during the Great Depression, the building had difficulty finding tenants and was known as the Empty State Building until it became profitable in 1950.

More than 21,000 employees work in the building each day, making the Empire State Building the second-largest single office complex in America (the first is the Pentagon).

The Empire State Building was the tallest building in the world until 1972, when it was surpassed by the World Trade Center.

Puppy Love (Part four)- Dean Ambrose x reader

You made it to the three month mark and you were thankful it was almost time to see your pups.

“You comfortable sweet heart?” You heard Seth’s voice enter the locker room. You were sitting down in a lounge chair the company brought along especially for you. “Yea Seth, thanks for asking,” you said smiling up to him.

“Do you mind if I just hang out with you? To make sure nothing happens?” He asked. You and Seth were the only ones in the room. “You can stay, yea. Did he really send someone to watch over me?” You asked laughing. Seth sent a devilish smile, “Oh no, Dean didn’t send me. I just haven’t seen you in a while since he keeps you on locked away from us.”

“Well he does that for good reasons,” you stated. Seth shrugged and sat on the ground beside you. You poked him, “you know there’s benches you could sit on?” Seth looked up, “nah, I’d rather sit here.” “Whatever floats your boat Seth.”

Roman entered next, “Seth why are you even here?” Seth shrugged, “I dunno, I just wanted to talk to Y/N.” Roman shook his head, “Nah you don’t, you just wanna convince Y/N to let you name one of the pups.” Seth growled, “So, I have good names picked out!”

You started laughing over the petty argument. Dean came in and didn’t go ape shit on anyone for being near you. He kissed you and went to shower. Seth basically had his tail in between his legs the whole time while Dean was present. Roman whispered, “why didn’t he snap at you Seth?”

Seth shrugged and looked to you, “why didn’t he?” You had no clue but you gave an educated guess, “maybe he believes you guys were watching me for labor pains?” Roman nodded, “makes sense.”

After three minutes Dean came out fresh and dressed. The pups always moved so much when their father was in the room with you. You placed a hand over your tummy and felt the flutters. Roman looked to Dean, “Can I feel the pups?” Dean rubbed his wet moppy hair in the towel, “Yea sure. Be careful.” Roman stood by your chair, “where should I touch?” You grabbed his hand and placed it at the top of your stomach, “you feel them?” Roman waited for a minute, but nothing, “no not really.”

“Oh honey!” You called to Dean, “I think the pups are afraid of their uncle. Come over here to show them it’s ok to jump around.” Dean chuckled and walked over, “move kiddos! That’s just uncle Ro, he’s harmless..sorta,” he smirked. You felt the flutters start again. You saw Roman’s face light up, “whoa! There’s gotta be two small pups in there! They’re strong!”

Dean huffed, “just like daddy!” Seth smirked, “Oh god, we don’t need more Ambroses.” You sighed, “I think we do.”

-

That night you tagged along with the boys to the woods so they could let loose and run. You decided you wanted to watch the excitement from the car, you got out and sat on the hood. The boys shifted into their feral wolves and ran off. Occasionally one of them would pop back up from the brush to see if you were ok.

It was getting to be 3AM and you decided since you couldn’t leave you would sleep in the car. You sat down in the seat and leaned the seat back. You closed the car door and tried to position yourself in a semi-comfortable position for the night. You checked your phone one last time before going to sleep at 3:07AM on the dot.

You jerked awake at 4:30AM with a sharp stab in the stomach. “Owww fuck!” You breathed out. You turned on a ceiling light in the car to see your pants and the seat beneath you were wet. “Damn it, fuck,” you panicked. You opened the door and slowly got out. Once you stood a contraction hit you. You doubled over in pain, “why do you guys have to come now?!” You asked the pups.

Pain. Pups are coming. Lots of pain.

Dean stopped chasing a wild squirrel as he felt your stabbing pains. He also had that physical connection with you; your pains were sometimes his. His messy tail wagged as he tried to contain his excitement.

A long howl was released. And in that howl was a happy message that both Roman and Seth received and rushed back to Dean. The three alpha wolves ran back to the car hoping you didn’t run off to find them. They reached you; you were sprawled across the ground on your back grimacing.

“Hey fl-“ another stab jerked in you, -uffy, can’t you guys turn back?” Dean shifted back, the other two followed. Dean got up and popped the trunk open to grab a duffel bag full of clothes. He grabbed his pants and shirt; he threw the rest to Seth and Roman.

“Ok, Roman, you’ve delivered pups before, right?” Dean asked sitting down beside you. Roman nodded, “once before. I’m rusty. So uh Seth, help.” Seth wide eyed and confused nodded, he knew that he wasn’t much help, having never seen a pup delivery.

“Just- GET THEM OUT!” You screamed. Dean shushed you, “we gotta be quiet baby girl. We don’t want humans to know that we have a very pregnant woman giving birth to hairy pups. That shit ain’t natural to most.”

Your eyes turned a shade of yellow and you snarled at your lover. Dean raised his arms away and backed away. Roman laughed, “she doesn’t wanna hear your shit right now!” The two men pulled your pants off, cautiously.

Water and licks.

Dean stood up and tried searching the car for a spare water to give you. He grabbed one and walked back over to you, “I’m sorry, but drink this,” he opened the bottle and raised your head. He tilted the bottle to your mouth and you chugged it all. “Feel better?” He asked innocently. You continued to growl at him, “why did you do this!”

Dean ignored the question and kissed your forehead. You melted under the kiss, and grabbed him to pull him into a kiss of your own. You jerked from the passionate moment when your contractions became closer and closer. You reached for Dean’s hand to squeeze or break.

I smell blood.

You were pushing now hoping something would happen. “Fuck it feels like my hips have broken into a million pieces!” You said through clinched teeth. “Ro is she okay, I smell blood?” Dean asked concerned. Roman nodded, “yea! Without much effort from mom here she almost has puppy number one out.”

Shiloh.

You gave another hard push and screamed in agony. Roman gently grabbed the pup out. Seth grabbed a towel and put the wet whimpering pup in it. “Dad, will you do the honors of cutting the first pup’s cord?” Roman asked holding up a pair of scissors. “Yea, yea,” Dean said moving down to the ‘sterile field’. He grabbed the scissors and cut the cord quickly.

“It’s a girl!” Seth chirped, “what are you gonna name her?”

Dean didn’t have to think, “Shiloh.” You looked up towards the men and nodded, “that’s such a pretty name honey.” Dean scooted back up to you, “and you can probably guess who told me the name.” You smiled and held his hand again, “fluffy,” referring to the wolf.

Seth gently rubbed the dark brown fur of the pup’s dry. He had to fight back the urge to coo and cuddle it. He tried setting the pup down in a nest of unused clothes to keep her warm, but when he did she howled out to be loved. Dean snapped, “the pup wants to be held Seth, hold her!” Seth quickly grabbed the pup up, “sorry little one.”

“Ok, momma, push when you feel the contractions,” Roman said holding onto your knees. “O-okay,” you let out, you were so weak and fatigued. After several minutes of waiting you felt the familiar stabs again. “Oh holy shit,” you said as your stomach muscles tensed. “Push,” Roman kept quietly chanting.

You gave out a defeated grunt, “I can’t!” You started to cry as Dean cupped your face, “You can, you have to. There’s no other way we can get this pup out. Just try.” You groaned into another push. “Hey, I see the head!” Roman proclaimed.

You howled an awful scream and gave it your all and it felt as if you were tearing all of your muscles as you pushed. “Stop! I can grab it from here,” Roman said as you relaxed. He grabbed the pup and pulled the rest of the way. Seth looked down at the little girl he had, “I’m sorry little one I have to put you down.” He put the pup in the nest of clothes and it howled for touch again.

Seth grabbed the wet pup and waited for the cord cut from Dean. Dean cut the cord and dropped them. “So what’s the-,” Seth peeked at the genitals, “BOY’S name?” Dean looked to you, “the wolf didn’t tell me a name.” You smiled, “mine did. His name is Ash.”

Seth dried off the light brown fur, “Oh Dean, he looks just like you! You got yourself a mini Ambrose!” Seth extended a finger to touch the pups nose but when he did the pup lunged and gummed his finger. The pup made a pathetic baby growl. You gasped, “Oh my god! That’s daddy’s boy to a T.” Dean giggled like a child at the sight, “see, ready to fight at any second.”

Seth laid the pup next to his sister, and Ash didn’t make a sound. Shiloh was still howling. “Give them to me!” You demanded. Both pups were wrapped and handed to you. “Look at you guys,” you said touching their little ears. “When do they turn human?” You asked. “Well around two or three months of age. Maybe later,” Roman answered. They both opened their young eyes and stared at you. This was the face, voice, smell, and touch of their mother. Dean wiggled his finger in front of his son’s face, “you gonna bite me little shit?” The pup only licked his finger.

-

Your little family was now settled back in at the hotel. The other pack members came in to visit and to congratulate you. “You and Dean make some A-DORABLE pups!” Sasha piped. Everyone took their turns to visit you by bedside. Once everyone got a chance to see you, they left. The Usos hauled in your new transportable crib, “from all of us, we wanted to give you this wicked crib. Now they can go to snooze town all night..hopefully “ You thanked the brothers and they left.

You gave the pups their last feeding and put little diapers on their butts and handed them to Dean. He held each pup in a hand, “Ash, Shiloh..” he said as he cooed, “you both are daddy’s and mommy’s world. Everything daddy does out there in the ring is for all of you. This life on the road might be a little hard. But I promise we’ll get home soon. I have a long break coming up. But between then and now, you better behave!” Shiloh stuck her tongue out. “Oh baby girl,” he cooed. He put the pups in the crib and locked the bars. “Pups are secured. Hopefully no one will cry because of poopy pants,” he laughed getting into bed.

Lilacs and Honeysuckles.

Dean nuzzled into your neck to give you a kiss. “Your scent is stronger than ever,” he smirked. You grinned, “You too mister, musky pine wood scent.”

“You’ve made my life complete. Within such short amount of time I found you, I claimed you. You had pups. And here we are,” he said playing with your hair. “Your welcome,” you said yawning, “can we sleep now before the pups whine about poopy diapers?” You cuddled into his chest and closed your eyes. And like many other nights, your calming scent lulled Dean into a deep sleep.

The Proposal - Part 3

Summary:  Sam’s pushy boss forces him to agree to marry her, hoping to secure her stay in the U.S. and avoid deportation to Canada. An AU based on The Proposal. Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Sam Winchester x female reader

Word Count: 3838

Warnings: Language, drinking, family arguments, reader’s parents died when she was young, reader is a not nice person, fluffy angst (yes, fluffy angst, it’s a thing, okay)

Author’s Note: Italics/Bold used to denote text messages. Kevin makes an appearance in this chapter, sort of. If you’ve seen the movie, you know what I mean. And just so you know, the slow build is killing me. But I love it.

Originally posted by chiwimon

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Domestic Coldflashvibe

In Len, Barry, and Cisco’s home there is one piece of furniture that is arguably the most important (apart from the giant bed): a large, vintage wingback chair, dark blue with a velvety texture. It sits in the corner of their bedroom, in a small nook with a short, dark wood bookcase and tall brass floor lamp to keep it company.

The chair was always Len’s, having been ‘acquired’ midway through his career. The detail in the wood carvings and the lush upholstery were too devine for Len to pass up, never mind that he knew he looked damn cool in the chair as he threatened and bribed in leisure.

Now a days, Len uses it to wind down. Take his mind off of heists, bad metas, and time quakes. He’ll choose a good mystery novel and tuck in, stretching out his legs and allowing his normally rigid form to slump into the cushions, letting out a deep sigh of relief. Occasionally, Len will indulge in a guilty pleasure, dime-store romance novels. He’d call in Barry or Cisco, whoever was closest, and rattle off some ridiculous lines of dialogue, then with a quirked brow he’d ask “did that do anything for you?” A large grin brightening his face.

Barry would often make use of the chair. Coming home from his forensic lab and finding that Len and Cisco were still busy doing who-knows-what, he’d refuse to sleep in their bed. The expansive mattress made him feel small and lonely without his two loves to bookend him. Instead, he’d grab a pillow and throw blanket and pass out in the chair. More often than not Len and/or Cisco would find Barry draped over the arms of the chair, still in his flash suit, snoring deeply. At which time Len and Cisco carefully lift him to the bed and tuck him in.

Cisco used the chair the least of the three, preferring the large bed or the long sofa to stretch out on. Len and Barry would only find Cisco there if he was upset, anxious, or emotionally strung out. Usually after spending time with his family, coping with a particularly bad vibe/dream, or overwhelmed by projects. The soft velvety texture and cozy dark color was calming and comforting to him. Len usually brings him a too-sweet cup of tea and Barry brings him a warm blanket, leaving him be to collect his thoughts and find his center again.

Len never thought that the cool, expensive chair he managed to steal instead of the giant diamond he had planned on, would be such an integral part to his home and his life. And he’s happy for its unexpected purpose.

All Allison had wanted to do was go for a jog. It was something that always aided in clearing her head and she had hoped she would be able to finish before the storm came. However, fate had something different in mind for her. With the start of the rain she made her way into the nearest building with every intention of waiting for it to pass. The brunette sat down in the nearest chair, noticing her company she asked, “Any idea when this is going to let up?”

2

Today in Harri History, George along with Tom Scott, Billy Preston, his dad, Harold, Ravi Shankar and First Son, Jack Ford visit in The Oval Office, 13 December 1974  Photos: David Hume Kennerly

“In the Cabinet Room, Harrison posed for pictures taken by White House photographer David Kennerly, as he sat in the president’s chair. Harrison and company found the house piano and launched an impromptu jam session“ -excerpt from “George Harrison: Hare Krishna to the Chief” by Jeff Cochran, Like The Dew, 8 September 2011

“From a foreigner’s point of view, there was a tremendous sense of relief in Ford. It’s just a regular old, groovy American family living there,  I thought I’d be very cynical about it all, but I was uplifted, it was like an unexpected shot of patriotism.” - Tom Scott

Modern AU: Mistaken Identity

@ocuvigil

This wasn’t what he’d planned. All he’d wanted was to get away from corporate executives for a while. It had been a mistake to wade into the throng of the convention by himself. Wilhelmina had come to this event to be part of a panel by Byric Games. It would be his first public appearance in years. There was pretty much only one picture of him online so how did these people know who he was?

A game convention had seemed fun. It got him out of desk work. He had forgotten about the crowds. He had forgotten that at least half the people there were enthusiastic enough to research the people chairing the company. It was nice to be appreciate but aah. So many people all trying to talk to him at once. Wilhelmina desperately tried to get away and hide.

Imagine getting drunk and coming on to Bilbo as the Dwarves look on in amusement

For middleearth2asgard :)

~~~~~~~~~

Although you smelt like mackerel, along with your 13 companions, and you were extremely tired, due to the days strange events, you had decided to stay up and have something to eat and drink courtesy of the master of Lake town.

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