confirmed by the rest of everyone who seems to know him but damnit okay

Heels (Lafayette x Reader)

Word Count: 3000 even (YES. BE PROUD.) Request/Summary: “Can you do 55,57,58 with Lafayette x reader please?”- @zoemonster200​ Warnings: I dropped the f bomb so many times in this the entire city is in ruins, some diet smut, fighting/arguing/yelling, that should be it. let me know if I left anything out.

A/N- Ruby ( @whatdimissmotherfuckers​ ) helped me out with french translations and became my thesaurus for a bit lol. Thank you Ruby. AND. Lafayette is just a tall curly haired bag of salt in this fic. Be warned. ALSO. Please give feedback! I love to hear from you guys!


Shit. He was in love. He sure as hell didn’t want to be. But it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

“I don’t think you understand John. I can’t sing.” You told your freckled friend, entering the room with the three boys and Eliza Schuyler. “Agreed.” Lafayette said, snapping out of his daydream. Damnit. How was she so beautiful?

“Fuck you.” You growled at him.“You admitted it.” He sneered. “I was just confirming your suspensions- how you say? Oh, suspicions.”

“Shut up you two.” John flared pulling out a chair a sitting down. “Somebody’s in a bad mood.” You muttered, hopping up and sitting on Lafayette’s counter. “Off the counter.” He grunted. “Hmm.” You pretended to consider his request. “Nah.”

“Get. Your butt. Off. My. Counter. L/N.” He gnarred. “I’d rather not.” You smirked, swinging your legs. “Off the counter!” He barked, thrusting your shoulder backward. “No!” You retorted, shoving him back.

“C’mon (Y/N). Off the counter.” Alexander groaned. “I’d rather not have you two get into a fight again.”

“Again?” Eliza asked, the newest and most innocent of your friend group. “It was ugly.” Hercules answered, glancing toward her momentarily.

You sighed and slipped off the counter, strolling around the peninsula to sit next to John. Lafayette couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping downward as you walked away, your hips swinging. You taunted him relentlessly, and you didn’t even know how much you were tormenting him. His jaw clenched, how could he let this happen? Of all the girls to lose his heart to, it had to be the one who hated him most.

Keep reading

Eraser

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 1459 (Wow!)

Description: Contrary to popular belief there are two sides to Dr. Leonard McCoy. There are only two people on the whole of the U.S.S. Enterprise who know them. One carries rank over him. The other holds his heart in her hands.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is for the brilliant @trekken81 and her Ed Sheeran Divide challenge! I have track one called… wait for it… Eraser! *profusely apologizes for corniness* I am also dedicating this to @mccoymostly and her absolutely emotional and goosebump raising head cannon about Joanna McCoy which can be found —> here  Thank you soo so much for reading!!! And without further ado…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello! Hope you are doing fine :) could you write a story with Zen x MC where MC had years of suffering bc of her parents? Mother and father were mistreating and hitting her bc they were extremely strict and drink too much alcohol. One day she ran away from home and left everything behind. Even her older brother didn't help her. She also got a handicaped sister who she took care of since childhood. Now she can't see her and Zen is the only person who understands her and helps her ease the pain

hey anon! to be honest I’m still a bit sick, but thank you :) also, thank you for the request! It was…a lot, but I had some fun with it. It goes along with zen’s route, for the most part, leaving out Echo Girl.

oh, and since you didn’t specify ‘handicapped’ I left it kinda vague, hope that’s okay ^^;;  side note: im hoping this was your imagination but pls don’t hesitate to talk to me if you wanna 

I hope you like it!! Requests are open <33 

Word Count: 2017(well isn’t that ironic)  Trigger Warnings: alcohol, hitting(.. i can’t word things), past abuse ,cheesy zen

Edit: sorry cuts hate me;;

 “You’re late.” Her father’s voice. “I thought we made it clear that 8 o’clock was your curfew.” Her mother’s now. Which wasn’t good—she could handle one of them, but both was just annoying. She had hoped it was one of those days where they would pass out by 7:30, but apparently she wasn’t that lucky. Still, she was 5 minutes late… “Do you have anything to say for yourself, MC?” No, she didn’t. Even if she did, it’d be useless. “Nothing, huh? How ungrateful…we were giving you a chance.” Sure, mother, call it a chance. “Look at me, young lady.” MC reluctantly followed her father’s words, knowing full well what would happen. It wasn’t the first time—and it probably won’t be the last—but she grew used to it. One slap for every minute she was late. This time, it was 5. The least she ever got was 2, the most 15. Her father did the hitting while her mother counted and poured both of them another drink. Scotch this time…must be a Thursday. When that punishment was over, a bag search. That was the easy part. Her mother would take the bag from her and shake it until everything spilled out on the floor. A pack of gum, her house keys, loose coins, a $10 bill, and a tube of lip gloss. They’d take her $10, give her one last, hard slap for “worrying them”, and send her upstairs. MC didn’t even care about the money, she had something more important in a hidden pocket she made. A girl learns things over the years.

While she went upstairs, she passed her older brother’s room. He used to be helpful, but he caved. Now, he was practically like them. Just as drunk and rude, the only difference being he didn’t hit her. He stayed holed up in his room, only going out for school and the occasional party he gets invited to. MC had half the mind to wonder if those parties made him any different. He wasn’t important, though. What was important, was her sister. She meant the world to MC, especially since she was the one to take care of her when they were kids. There was…an accident when MC was 7 and her sister was 5 that left her practically under house arrest. These days, she barely ever came out of their shared room. It wouldn’t surprise MC if their parents forgot about her. “Psst, it’s me.” MC whispered, opening the door just enough for her to slip through. “I got you something.” Her sister moved the blanket from her face and turned to her. “Is that why you’re late..?” MC shrugged, taking out the small bag apple slices from the hidden pocket in her bag. There were only 4, but she knew it would make a big difference. “It was worth it.” She said. Walking to her sister, MC carefully opened the bag and handed her a slice. “No it wasn’t MC,” her sister said, taking the slice anyways. “You shouldn’t get beat for fruit…” MC sat at the edge of the bed, getting a slice out for herself. “We shouldn’t get beat, period. But that’s our life, right?” Her sister ate the slice slowly, savoring it. “It doesn’t have to be. You could get out of here.” “And leave you?” MC responded automatically. “I couldn’t.” MC’s sister shook her head, “You can. And you should. One of us deserves a decent life.” MC popped the whole apple slice in her mouth and handed the rest to her. “Do we?”

When the day came, MC was definitely not prepared. “Go!” Her sister whisper-yelled from their bed, motioning her to the window. “We planned this, remember? Out the window, to the back, and do not stop until you see the third gas station.” MC nodded, opening the window. It was pointless to be quiet, their father was coming up the stairs as they spoke. MC started to put a foot out the window when she turned back to her sister. “And you’re going to stay in bed, and pretend you’re me…oh, this is ridiculous, just let me take it-” “No!” Her sister cut her off. They heard their father’s voice down the hall. “I didn’t answer your question back then, but the answer is yes. One of us does deserve a decent life. And you’re our last chance. So go!” The voice was getting closer, and MC was still not completely sure about this, but she knew her sister meant that. And out the window she went.

It had been 4 years since she left. At first, she tried to keep contact with her sister. Even if that only meant flying paper airplanes to the window. But she was found out one day by her mother, who yelled at her to never come back. MC didn’t know what happened that day or after, but they didn’t threaten her to come back. Part of her was relieved at first, another knew exactly why. It was confirmed by her mother, who had told her, “don’t you dare come back here, MC! It would be a huge disappointment to your sister, huh?” They hadn’t forgotten. Which meant who knows what for her sister. “If I see you near our house again, then you will come back. And it’ll make things so much worse.” Was the last thing she heard from her mother, complete with a smirk and a vodka bottle in hand. Vodka meant she was extra strict and dangerous, but it also meant somewhat honesty—much worse than lies. That, and it was Monday.

Ever since then, MC had nightmares. About what had happen to her sister, about if they would force her back there, how bad things really were. They did seem to get a little better, however, when she joined the RFA. That was also kind of forced, but the RFA was full of nice people. Nicer than pretty much everyone she knew before. There was one person who, uh, was a little too nice at times, but MC found herself drawn to him. Sure, the others were just as nice. She thought that Yoosung was cute, Seven was amusing to talk to, Jaehee was kind, and Jumin was even funny sometimes. She even liked V, though she rarely saw him. But Zen was…weird. In a good way. Her nightmares seemed to not be as frightening when she talked to him before going to sleep. He called every morning just to talk, made sure she ate—like everyone else—and now she had more pictures of this guy on her phone than she did herself. Seven told her he was kind of into her. Yoosung agreed. Jaehee was skeptical, but MC could understand. She was just getting to know this guy, just like she was with the rest of them, it’s not like she could fall in love through a messenger. But then he sprained his ankle and she was in a car Jumin sent on her way to his house. She was nervous, even dressed up a little bit. Okay, maybe she could fall in love through a messenger. Maybe.

Wait, did MC really find love over a messenger? Because she was supposed to leave his place an hour and a half ago, but here they were eating dinner together and laughing over something he said. It was easy around him, MC thought. And he was happier again, though she didn’t even have the chance to mention the cat food model job—sorry Jumin. After dinner, he took her up to the roof. It was a beautiful night, with stars practically everywhere. There, he spilled his life story to her. And at first, MC was surprised at how similar they really were, but she took her time to listen. This was important to him, she could tell. Plus, the blush on his face was cute. Damnit MC, focus. “It’s strange,” Zen said, “I feel as if I’ve known you for a long time…you’re strange.” MC smiled a bit, “Well…maybe it’s because we have kind of similar stories.” Zen looked at her, tilting his head a little. “What do you mean?” “It’s a long story…” “You listened to me, it’s my turn to listen to you.” He said, returning her smile. Now MC was blushing. “Alright…here we go.”

She took a deep breath and told him everything. From the accident with her sister, to the alcohol, to when the beatings started, her older brother, all the way to the day she ran away. Even the nightmares and the day she was yelled at by her mother. Somewhere along the way, she started crying. Not long after that, Zen started crying too. When she finished her story, the two of them were a mess. “MC..” Zen said, regaining his composure first. “How long…have you been keeping all of that in?” She shrugged lightly, “What, 4 years? It doesn’t matter, they’re not what I’m worried about-” “It’s your sister.” He said, cutting her off, but she nodded. “…I can’t see her anymore. I don’t know what they’re doing to her, what they already did to her, I just left her!” Zen quickly took her hand, intertwining his fingers and holding it tightly. “MC, listen to me. Nothing that happened was your fault. I have no doubt that your sister is proud of you and does not regret your decision. She’s happy that you left.” MC looked at him, her tears coming to a stop. “But they’re probably hurting her…” Zen sighed and brought up their hands, kissing hers gently. “I know…but whatever you do, you can’t go back.” She nodded, the blush coming back slightly. “You’re right…and I’m sorry, you have family problems too. I fully support you in your decisions, you know that. If you want to go back or not.” Zen smiled, “ Don’t be sorry. And I know, princess. Thank you. Oh, it’s late…you should probably go back to the apartment…” MC blinked, “Oh, yeah…Jumin’s driver is still outside…” He helped her stand up, hands still together. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m kicking you out, but I honestly feel like I might faint just holding your hand.” MC laughed, following him back inside. “Please don’t. Your ankle still isn’t fully healed.” They continued talking while they walked towards the door. “It will be by tomorrow, I know it! Anyways…text me when you get back safe, okay? Promise?” MC nodded, “I promise.”

It was late by the time MC got back to the apartment, but she didn’t mind. She texted Zen as promised and joined the messenger when she saw he was on. Yoosung was on too, and the three of them talked for a while, but he went off once one of his guild members called him for a raid. Then it was just the two of them.


‘That boy..anyway I’m glad you made it back safe, MC. Make sure you rest up’

‘I will, you rest up too. You’re going back to the doctor tomorrow. Goodnight Zenny~’


They both left the chatroom, but he called her right after. “Can’t get enough of me?” She said teasingly when she answered. “No, actually. I can’t. Haha” He said, “I really just…wanted to thank you. For coming over, letting me share my story, and letting me listen to yours.” “I should thank you for having me…you made dinner.” She heard his laugh again, “That’s nothing, babe. I just made dinner. You made my day.” MC laughed now,  “Are you always this cheesy?” “I prefer ‘romantic’, but either way the answer is yes.” She rolled her eyes, smiling. “But seriously…thank you. And sweet dreams, my love. No nightmares tonight. It’ll just be you and me in the land of dreams.” He hung up after that, but he still left MC with a smile. And that night, there were no nightmares, like MC had a clear head for once. She really did just dream of the two of them, back on the roof and looking at the stars. 

My Job (part 2)

First Part: http://darcia22.tumblr.com/post/140475584830/my-job

Song I listened to while writing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDAd0S92Uko

Warnings: Angst. Self-loathing. Lisa is not a warning in my opinion, but it might be for some people so yeah, she´s in the story.

Tagging: The wonderful @happydog00 who was incredibly nice to me and I love! and everyone who liked and reblogged the first part, in case they wanted to read the second. If any of you don´t want to be tagged in the rest of the parts that will come out, please feel free to tell me: @gleefinn @deans-applepie67 @supernotnatural2005 @understandingwhatitmeanstobeme @jessiedangerous @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @sassymrswinchester @stressed-depressed-deanobsessed @bloodredrose12 @deanwinchesterpie @bloodysideofhell @markesharke @crzcorgi @scifirulez @azaeleatheazurewolf @ravenrainbvb @epicbananaz @runningwithothermemories @millie6767 @mrswinchester16 @killerofthesouth @thatcountrylover @irishaccentdrivesmecrazy @albmedlin @sarcasticmermaidd @wickedkittycat @carobeary @thewayward-winchester @supernatural-dreamer @quirkychicky @winchesterforever12 @eve05glee @justlooking43 @destielwhotrash @kangaroo1231 @ashleygee16 @potentially-kinetic @all-of-the-supernatural @67marauderette @feelmyroarrrr @hillface89 @soab1967 @deanfuckedmehard @winterladybr @kbrand0 @effie-w @clariedelalune @daydreamingtheimpala @thehockeyfangirl14 @justanotherdeangirl25 @gotoomanyfandoms @starlingfalls @tiafrom5to7 @orangepenguin5 @jordan0ella @submissivelover664 @crowleys-blahblahblah @utterlyhopeful @hiddlestoner15 @sexyashmike @hopplessdreamer THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!


Stone cold…

The library was almost empty at midday. Students who might have been studying in it the whole days were now outside having lunch and were surely hoping the hour would last forever. A part of me also wished that. It was quiet in there and it gave me something to focus on apart from the empty motel room. And the library didn´t smell like him. As much as I wanted to distract myself from that, though, I had to confront it. I needed to find out where Dean was. It had been his choice to leave, obviously, jusging by the fact that there were no signs of struggle and the Impala missing, but I needed to talk to Dean. I needed to ask him if he was alright, what his plan was and what the night together had meant, if it had meant anything to him, at all… If he had ran without saying goodbye he surely had a reason, but I needed that goodbye. And he was going to give it to me, I would not be left in an empty room like a fucking one night stand. Not when my job was protecting him, since I was four, not  when I needed to be sure that he was okay with my own eyes. It was my job, damnit, I thought I had left that clear enough to him. I had told him enough times to sink in. Arguments about it were countless over the years, but I wasn´t about to give in right now.

-(Y/N), you´re not my mom, you need to stop putting yourself in danger to protect me!- Dean screamed as he entered the room where I was resting, after burying another body.

-Dean, we had this conversation before. I can´t help it…-

-Well, you should try harder! I have no idea of what I would do if I lost you now. Sam is gone to Standford, and don´t misunderstand, I´m happy for him, but you´re everything I have when dad is gone hunting on his own and…-

-I know, Dean… Come here, help me get clean up.- and he did.

Despite that job, to think that Dean had left after we had sex, had led me to try to convince myself to leave him be. I had spent a few hours in the motel room, watching TV, trying so hard to avoid thinking about him and just wishing that he would walk through the door instead. That hadn´t happened, of course, and by midday I had puto n my jacket and walked to the nearest library, a place I associated more with Sam due to the long hours we had spent together doing research or just reading. That didn´t help. For the second time in my life, I stopped to think about how insane it was for me to feel compelled to take care of a grown man as Dean. For the second time I noticed how disturbing my behavior was. Almost obsessive. Without the “almost”. Knowing that, there was nothing to do about it, and knowing myself, I would eventually cave in and searched for his location, so better now than later. I got up and approached one of the library´s computers and searched Dean´s cellphone.

Honestly? The answer did not surprise me. I had met Lisa a while ago and I remembered quite well the acid sensation of something crawling up my throat when I had seen how similar was Ben to Dean, the relief when Dean had confirmed it wasn´t his, and the fear in my chest when this little copy of Dean had been in danger. Also, how I almost cried when Lisa had said her goodbyes to Dean with a soft, loving kiss. I couldn´t blame her, though. It was Dean after all, and he had saved her son. In that moment, I had felt panic at the thought that maybe, Dean decided to stay with her, but we got out of that house as we had got in. Lisa was not mentioned again in my presence… until that tense drive to Detroit, when Sam had made Dean promise to have a normal life, and Dean had promised to do it. A chill ran through my spine as I took the jacket off the chair. I needed to figure out how to take a bus to Lisa´s, but most of all, I needed to pick up my things from the motel room and have a proper shower. I smelled like Dean as well and I still could feel his touch on my skin. And I couldn´t stand it anymore. People were starting to crowd the library, anyways, so it was better to get out. The process of going to the room, getting my shit together, showering and going to the bus station was pathetically slow, with me wanting to pospone confronting Dean after last night. Funny that. I had fought vampires, werewolfs, spirits, and other horrors, through my whole life, but I was scared to face the man I had grew up with, the man I had had sex the night before. Seemed like a joke.

You see me standing, but I´m dying on the floor.

Originally posted by deryhana

In the bus, I couldn´t stop thinking about every “I love you” that had slipped through Dean´s lips, and how much I had hated and loved each one at the same time. I knew, as I said it back, that he said it because he was hurt, broken, because he had lost a big part of himself hours before, because he had failed his job to take care of his little brother… And I, I said it back because I couldn´t hold it in anymore. I couldn´t shut myself up when I saw him so vulnerable. I couldn´t hide it anymore because I was also a disaster with a breaking point and my foundations in ruins. It wasn´t surprising that Dean had left me. He didn´t need another load right now. With a shake of my head, I threw away those thoughts and leaned my forehead on the window.

-Since when do you think this way, (Y/N)? You were normally the one scolding me for putting myself down…-

-I don´t know, I just do… sorry…-

-Don´t apologize, I know it´s not something you can control all the time. Look at me.-

-Yes?-

-When you feel that way, remember you can come to me. And when I´m not there… just think that I would hug you real tight, okay?-

-Thanks, Sammy. You´re the best.-

-You are. And it´s Sam.-

I was surprised when I felt the salty taste of a tear on my lips and I was quick to dry it with my sleeve. I was sick of crying. It seemed to be the only thing I did. Maybe if I don´t cry, I won´t feel anymore. I remembered the first time that John had called me a cry baby, despite him feeling the need to cry himself, when Sam had fallen from a swing, scratching his little hands, when he was five. Now Sam had fallen again and the result were more than a few scratches, but i refused to cry again, even when every cell of my body asked me to do so. I needed to think about what was I going to tell Dean when I saw him.

Everything was planned. Every word. And I never got to say one. It was getting dark already when my hand got close to the wood of Lisa´s door.

-(Y/N)?-

The familiar voice made me turn around. Lisa was carrying shopping bags and a breath taking smile, that made me feel small. But there was something in he reyes that made her seem tired, worried… and those words I had planned flew out the window, long forgotten. I had prepared myself to talk to Dean, not Lisa. –Hi… Dean is…-

-Inside, yes…- I saw her leave one of the bags on the floor to look in his purse, for the door keys. –He told me about what happened, with Sam. Not with many details, because…well, you know how he is.- he´s different with you. – I don´t know what the hell to do, really, so I´m really happy that you´re here. I went out to get more food, I only had enough for me and Ben. I told Dean to get in bed before I left so maybe he´s sleeping, but considering what he´s been through, I really doubt it…-

She was speaking out of nervousness. Dean´s presence was a surprise and probably, knowing Sam was dead, was also a shock to her that she didn´t know how to handle. I felt sorry for her. This woman didn´t deserve or needed to receive this kind of problem in her home. And I was certain that she knew that. And she still let the problem walk in, for Dean.

-Probably…- I said, out of courtesy. –Was he hurting when he got here?- that was an stupid question, of course he was hurting when he arrived…

-He was…- Lisa took a deep breath before speaking, another sign of weariness. Too much information for her in such small period of time. –He seemed better than I expected given the circumstances. He told me you had tried to help him as soon as everything happened. He showed up here around four in the morning, devastated…but on his feet. Why didn´t you come with him?-

I wish I knew.

-I´m sure he prefered to speak to you alone, considering you two had something in the past…- present. -…you know?- Lisa nodded, an understanding smile on her face. –Did he told you what he plans to do or…?-

-We haven´t talked about it, there´s nothing certain, but for now, I´ve given him a little space in my closet and helped him get the Impala in the garage. I think he needs resting for now…-

Originally posted by soproudofus

I felt myself nodding. She was right. Resting is what Dean needed, but not as a temporary thing. Not for now. He needed a life, just like Sammy had said. He deserved it. He deserved to be happy. And that woman. That woman in front of me was the one that could give that to him. For a while, on the bus, I had thought that maybe, I could. I had lied to myself thinking that a happy life was posible for Dean around me; me, a constant reminder of the life he once had lived. The idea now, with Lisa just a few steps away from me, with two shopping bags in her hands, and the keys to her normal home on one of them, seemed stupid. If happy is her, I´m happy for you. Lisa took a step forwars and opened the door.

-Come in, I´ll serve you a cup of coffee and tell Dean that you´re here…- before she could say more, I took a step back, my whole body shaking,  to the stairs. Lisa noticed the change in me and stared at me, frowning. –(Y/N)? What´s wrong?-

-Could you not…tell Dean that I was here?- my voice didn´t sound like mine and I felt the tears threatening to spill. A cry baby, that´s what you are…

-(Y/N), no, what are you talking about? Come on; Dean needs you right now.-

-No. He really doesn´t.-

Have you ever run, crying? It´s the most horrible sensation. Everything burns. Your legs, your back, your lungs, your throat, your cheeks, you reyes… I stopped runing when I got to the bus station, where I left myself fall to the ground, hugging my bag, that kept all my things hidden. My gun, a silver knive, salt, and my clothes. All of that was hidden on the old bag I cried onto, for two hours. A cry baby, that´s what you are…

A cry baby, that´s what you are…

A cry baby, that´s what you are…

A cry baby, that´s what you are…

A cry baby, that´s what you are…

…until I felt the sound of familiar footsteps approaching me. Next thing I felt was his smell, and finally, the size of his hand on my shoulder.

-Sammy?-

-It´s Sam.-

Originally posted by wellcometothedarkside

just another case of friendly fire

-/-

“i hit shot you in the balls in a paintball match i’m so sorry oh my god" au

-/-

They’ve taken out three of them already – one from her, one from Nolan and another from Locksley. Three more left, she tells herself. Her team’s down to four, both Mulan and Elsa getting shot early on, courtesy of Merida which Mulan did not take well.

Now – with Jones’ triumphant ‘I got Merida!’ – all they have to do is take both Ruby and Graham out, and with four versus two, it’ll be an easy win.

And boy does Emma need to win this.

Last year would be the last time the 77 lost to stupid Manhattan with their superiority complex and their Upper East Side ‘crimes’ (if you can even compare Mrs. Braddock’s poodle being stolen to Brooklyn’s robberies and thefts and murders – not that murders are good, Emma clarifies)and if her team has to mutter those eight wretched words one more time, Emma will completely lose it.

So when she hears the soft squish of the sole of a shoe against the wet soil thanks to last night’s rain, she tightens her grip on the handle and readies her finger on the trigger.

And when the figure comes around the old water tank she crouches behind, they barely get to finish their ‘Oh, it’s—‘ before Emma’s index finger twitches and she hears a pap, pap go off from her barrel.

“Bloody hell!”

Keep reading