could-have-fooled-me

“Ah, sorry, I’m not much of a dancer.” Prompto mumbled to his feet after he once again stepped on the prince of Lucis’ toes. 
“Could have fooled me,” Noctis smiled warmly, pulling Prompto closer, “Do they not have balls in Niflheim?” 
Prompto paused, his face falling slightly as he lowered his gaze to the floor “Well…ah, no. Not really.” 

Insomnia welcomes Niflheim into their kingdom will a ball, and although Noctis usually hates any kind of social event, surprisingly this one has become a little more interesting. Another scene I had in mind for my Niflheim prince Prompto AU. I’m planning on drawing a few more things because I’ve received so much encouragement, I hope y’all like angst, cause thats where this AU is headed. 

METOUSIOSIS

Could have fooled me
Performative glossolalia
Plastic faith
When she went away

He smelled like napalm and sandalwood
Improvised prayers

Found shelter trespassing
My Marlboro man
Pleased just to share a thought

He gave me some advice to ignore
And locked the door
On his way out

Boundaries
How should we identify?
Something, nothing, everything

Begging for sympathy
Never looked so fashionable
Heaven was at capacity
A lion in the eighth house
And the name of an Evangelist on their breath

I’ll still cry for him
Pleased just to share a thought
My memory’s not quite what it used to be
She holds me like a gun
Ignore the metronome
Screaming every syllable

Sleep will have to wait
We are bound to crash anyway

Like forgetting how to ride a bike

Suga Daddy: Part 4

Suga Daddy: Part 4

Word count: 9k

Genre: smut, angst

So this chapter really means a lot to me so I hope you like it. Let me know if you want. Enjoy! Also, I didn’t have enough time to edit this how I wanted to. Sorry about the mistakes.

parts: one | two | three 




The week had gone by super quickly, much to your dismay. You had hoped for a slow week. You had tried to focus on school and your dance classes. Yugyeom had been a great distraction but sadly he wasn’t over today and neither was Yoongi. You had been so use to him spending the night that when he slept over last night you were shocked not to find him in bed with you. The truth was he had been over every night this week. It was weird to you, he’d hadn’t come over everyday since the beginning. One night you didn’t even have sex, you just cuddled on the couch and made out.

Then again he would barely talk to you. He’d come over and give you some of the best sex, fall asleep holding you and then would be gone once you woke up. You didn’t think much of it though because that’s something you were used to. What you were freaking out about was him texting you everyday about your parents.

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Netflix - Smut

Originally posted by alfatwolf

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 2,997
Request: Can you plz do a imagine where Stiles and the reader have a Netflix and chill date? Oh, and smut if you would like to add it. -bye I love your writing! ❤ 
AN: Sorry this took so long! I’ve been distracted lately. Also I didn’t edit this very well so excuse my mistakes. xoxoxox Thanks to @toppunks for looking at this for me.


Kira slammed her locker door, raising an eyebrow at you. “You’re not coming to the party?”

You shook your head, your arms tightening around the books you were holding. “Nah. I’m not in the party mood.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Stiles isn’t going either, would it?” Lydia asked from beside you, a knowing look on her pretty face.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “No. What Stiles Stilinski chooses to do does not dictate my every decision.”

“You could have fooled me.” Malia deadpanned.

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When intentions are lost in translation

For @snowbaz-feda day 29. Baz takes care of Simon, and Simon accuses Baz of plotting.

SIMON:

I didn’t want to go off and kill them all, I thought I could fight the beasts and chase them away, but there are too many of them and none of my spells are coming out right and there are cuts across my body where they’ve slashed me with their claws and I can’t. I can’t fight them. The sword drops from my hand, the magic spills over, and I feel the explosion at the same moment I hit the ground.

BAZ:

Snow barely makes it through the door and to his bed before he collapses, his upper body slumped across the bed with the rest of him still hanging off it, knees scraping the floor. I wait for him to heave himself the rest of the way up, but he doesn’t move. I can smell blood, and his shirt is torn in a few places.

I ignore the sensation of my fangs filling my mouth and cautiously step closer.

‘Snow?’

There’s no answer, not even a groan, and he’s still not moving. I take in the dishevelled state of his hair and the scars on his back, visible through the tears in the fabric of his shirt, and I forget all about keeping my distance and rush to his side. I grab his wrist.

There’s a pulse, but it’s slow and irregular, and he seems to be struggling to breathe.

Up close the smell of blood is stronger, and I can see that he’s unconscious. Whatever it was has seriously hurt him. He starts to slump back towards the ground and I catch him with an arm around his shoulders. I try to figure out how to move him onto the bed with the least physical contact possible. In the end, I scoop him up with my other arm under his knees, and I try not to hold him too close as I lift him up and gently lay him on his back on the bed.

I take out my wand and spell away the tattered remains of his shirt, dropping them onto the floor for him to deal with later. There are cuts and wounds all over his chest, some bleeding quite badly, and his face looks pale underneath all the blood and grime and he looks like he could be dead. There’s a strange ache in the pit of my stomach, and I won’t pretend I don’t know what it is. (It’s the feeling of seeing the one you love close to death, and realising how close you are to losing him.)

I cast every healing spell I can think of, repeating them over and over, until the scars finally start to shrink and the colour returns to his cheeks.

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Something Worth Fighting For- 1

Summary: You’ve just begun to settle into life as an Avenger when a mission gone awry divides the team in half, and a familiar face shows up just in time to make you second guess your every choice.

Words: 1303

Masterlist

Originally posted by i-alwayslikedstrangecharacters

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can’t rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right. -The Crow, 1994

Brooklyn. 1946.

The cemetery was a snow globe. Someone had wrapped it in their hands, blocking out all traces of sunlight behind the deep grey clouds, and shaken it. Snow swirled through the air, between the slender claws of the dead trees, and dragged across the faces of black, slick stones. The wind hissed in your ear, stung the exposed flesh between your hat and the collar of your jacket. Kissed the places that had not been touched by warm hands in nearly a year.

There was nothing special about the dull, grey rock in front of you. There was a name, etched into its face, that had been filled with snow which only served to make the letters stand out more. It was a formality more than anything, the headstone. There was no body to be buried, no casket to lower into the ground.

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Princess of Themyscira: Part 2

AN: It was decided on twitter that I would publish this today. I had a lot of fun writing it! Enjoy.

Words: 1299

Part One


You watch from a distance. You watch the sparing in the middle of the ring, and the groups of women that watch it only mildly interested. You move your feet ever so slightly, and the skirt of your dress makes a slight swishing sound. You miss your jeans.

    Opening your book you ignore the chatter around you, and try to focus on the words. It’s a bit difficult to understand, you know very little greek. Only the few phrases your mother had taught you through your life. Your grandmother had insisted on a more formal education.

    In the six months since you’d come to your new home, you’d been immersed in your studies. You’d learned greek, and the amazon’s history. You hadn’t however, made any friends.

    Despite your grandmother’s protests your mother's’ sisters avoided you. If you entered a room, then they left. It stung more than a little bit. As the fighting got louder, and as a result the cheers, you gave up on your book. Leaning back against the column you gave the fight your full attention.

    Artemis was someone who liked to win. She was strong and fierce, and she reminded you of your mother in that way. She also tended to be cruel at times. She showed no mercy, and even littler patience. You avoided her to the best of your ability.

    As she once again claimed victory you slipped away. Your rooms were near your grandmothers. On most nights she would join you in them, and tell you stories of the Amazons, and of your mother. Tonight however, she was dining with some of her sisters. You had been invited, and carefully rejected the offer.

    You collapse on your bed and watch the sun set. When the darkness envelops your room, you shred your dress, and make your way to the locked trunk on the other side of the room. You remove the key from around your neck and unlock it. You carefully remove the workout clothes you had brought from home, and slip them on.

    You take a moment to look at the other things in the truck. Other clothes, pictures, and important documents. You close the lid, before you let your mind wander into the past. Dressed and ready you slip from your room and into the surrounding woods.

    Your parents had never wanted you near the fighting. They had never wanted you to follow in their footsteps. But being a Wayne, being Batman and Wonder Woman’s daughter brought a special kind of danger to your life that could never be escaped.

    Your father had taught you how to move, how to escape and how to hide. Your brother had taught you how to fight. The lessons had been hard and unforgiving, but then again, everything Damian did was that way.

He’d always had sense for these kind of things, of what the future would hold. Unlike what most people thought, Damian was actually a very caring older brother. At least he had been to you. Something to do with blood relation.

All your brothers had spoiled you though. You’d been the baby. Their sister. The one who was never supposed to go through what they had. Yet here you were, running through the jungle on an Amazon island protected my magic.

You run until your legs go weak, and your lungs burn. You go until you just want to collapse. And you do right into the sand. It’ll be pain to wash out of your hair, and an even bigger pain to run back in. But you don’t care. The feel of the sand, and the sound of the waves brings you a bit of peace you hadn’t had earlier.

“You still cling to man’s world.”

You want to curse at the sound of the voice. Any peace you had achieved flies out the window as your body goes tense. You crack open and eye to stare at Artemis. She’s dressed in the same outfit she had been fighting in earlier. There’s still blood on it.

You let out a sigh, “They smell like home.”

“This is your home now.”

You stare up at the woman for a moment, before sitting up, “Could have fooled me.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“That you don’t want me here. That I come from man’s world, and I am a taint upon your precious Amazon blood.”

You see the fire rise in her eyes at the statement, “And who told you that, tell me and I will cut them down.”

You quirk an eyebrow in surprise, you had heard the statement in passing. You weren’t even sure who said it, and to be honest you didn’t care. You’d grown up being the target of every tabloid imaginable. You knew how to ignore things that weren’t true.

Standing up you brush the sand off the best you can before saying, “It doesn’t matter.”

She reaches out and grabs your shoulders, “It does matter you are our sister.”

You eye the hands on your shoulders, and you feel the first flare of anger, as you grip her wrist and twist. You pin her arm to her back, and you’re certain that you can only keep the hold for the few seconds you do, because she’s stunned. She quickly breaks it and turns to face you.

You circle each other for a minute before you both charge. What follows is a knock down, drag out fight. By the end of it you’re both lying on the sand panting. You’re bother battered and bruised, but you’re far worse off than she is. And the only thing you can think, is that you would have made Damian proud.

“You fight well young one.”

You turn your head, wincing as you do so to stare at the woman. She’s already sitting up, and she’s grinning.

You look back to the night sky, “My brother taught me how.”

“And what has happened to him.”

“I don’t know. That’s the worst part. I don’t know if my brothers are dead or alive. Or what’s happening to my friends. It’s the unknown that haunts you.”

Artemis stays quiet for a minute before saying, “I’m sorry that I can’t help you know.”

You laugh, and then groan, “I’m sorry for attacking you.”

“You have spirit little one.”

You smile at the woman, before turning back to the sky. The two of you stay there staring at the stars until the sun breaks through. You don’t talk to the woman for several days after. To be honest you kind of avoid her.

But Artemis is stubborn, and she tracks you down. You’re reading in a tree when that first arrow sores past your head, and embeds itself in the bark. You stare down at the crazy woman whose shot had drawn a fair amount of attention.

“Come little one, it is time for your lesson.”

You do your best to hide behind your book, until you feel the tree shake as she climbs up it. She sits on the branch in front of you and simply says, “You can not spend all your time in books. It would be a dishonor on your mother, and your brother who taught you.”

You continue to stare and she simply says, “You’re small, but you’re crafty. While a direct approach may not work well, a long distance one will. For that you will need a bow and arrow. May your aim be true.”

And between the seriousness of Artemis’ statement and thoughts of Oliver Queen and Roy Harper all you can do is laugh. Because you know your father is turning in his grave. And despite that you take hold of the bow and follow your sister through the now gathered crowd towards the practice field.

The Happy Couple

Originally posted by canonspngifs

Request: You have no idea how happy I am you have requests open! I love your writing so much. Could I request one where dean and the reader have been dating awhile but recently they were arguing a lot more but then on a case they have to dress up and act like a happy couple and it makes dean remember everything he loves about the reader?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,600ish

Warnings: none

A/N: The angst is strong with this one…


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You Steal the Air out of My Lungs (You Make Me Feel It)

*click through to read on ao3

written by: Emily | @prosciuttoe

prompt: ‘I know that you think I hate you but I swear to God I didn’t mean to hit you with my car.‘

word count: 2815

The funny thing is, under entirely different circumstances, Clarke’s pretty sure that she and Bellamy Blake could have been friends.

The first time she meets him, Kane is introducing them and he’s supposed to be showing her the ropes, since it’s her first day at the bookstore. He has a well-worn copy of Howl’s Moving Castle sticking out of his bag, freckles, and dark, messy curls that Clarke really wants to run her fingers through. (She’s… pretty intrigued, if she’s being entirely honest.)

But then he opens his big, stupid mouth, and suddenly all of her feelings of goodwill go up in smoke, because Bellamy Blake is, undoubtedly, a massive asshole.

He won’t stop calling her Princess, for one, and makes a face every time she so much as asks a question about the cash register. The constant jibes about her having gotten the job due to nepotism (so their boss may also be her mom’s fiancé, sue her) certainly don’t help either, and he actually laughs when a book display falls on her foot.

Suffice to say, he is definitely not her favorite person. On particularly bad days, she entertains a fantasy or two of shoving him down a flight of stairs. On worse ones, she dreams of pushing him down a manhole.

Still, murderous tendencies aside, Clarke doesn’t mean to actually run him over with her car.

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in her shadow || seventeen

genre: angst (?)
word count: 2.2k

summary: in which Mina’s dirty laundry gets exposed and you make a shocking discovery. 

That’s Bobby,” you said. 
As in her boss Bobby?
Why is she having dinner with him?” 
You shrugged a little. “She’s constantly working late, perhaps he took her out to eat,” you suggested.
That looks a little intimate for a meal between a boss and employee.

Originally posted by park-jimizzle

“You think what?!” Yeejin exclaimed as she looked at you, her brown eyes wide. Your visit was sudden, but what you had just said had really surprised her, seeing as you were such a careful girl. 

“I think I could be pregnant,” you muttered. You didn’t want to be, you knew Jimin would still be with Mina regardless, but you suspected it anyway. You had been more tired of late, more nauseous, and you wanted to make sure. 

You needed to know. 

“How?” Yeejin spluttered, clearly in shock as you shrugged your shoulders. You had always been so careful and so had Jimin, you weren’t entirely certain how it had happened.

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anonymous asked:

Could you write something off the song ' Fools gold '? That song is completely beautiful

I wish I was stronger.  I wish I had that thing that some people have where you can see how dangerous someone is.  It’s right in front of you, screaming at you like a freight train.  So you move.  You get clear.  You run away.  But I wasn’t born with that gene.  At least not when it came to her.

I was born with the other gene.  The one where you twist yourself into knots to please someone else.  Where you watch a cheesy rom com and are bawling by the end of it because you want to be the person who loves someone so much…they change.

I would never be what she needed.  No matter how hard I tried or what I did for her, it was never going to happen.

And I knew that.

But it didn’t stop my heart from racing when her number popped up on my phone.  And it didn’t stop me from answering the phone with such glee in my voice it was disgusting.  And it sure as hell didn’t stop me from inviting her over to my house.

I knew what she wanted.  It wasn’t me.  But maybe if I pretended hard enough, I could convince myself it was.  So that’s what I did.

Every time.

The pizza was done when she finally made it to my house.  She was late.  Par for the course.  I knew she would be.

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anonymous asked:

it always bothers me that after claire save marshali from the pirates, jamie doesn't give her any credit for being brave he just scolds or focuses on her wound. would love to see a missing scene where he thanks claire for taking care of his stepdaughter

Humble Pirate  (or some less terrible title)

Mod Bonnie says: 

Okay, lads and lasses: this falls fully into the category of CANON REWRITE. To refresh your memory on why anon (and I!!!!) get ragey about this: 


CANON says: 

Voyager, Chapter 54, Diana Gabaldon

[….]


FANFICTION SAYS… 

Do you honestly—” I choked out, absolutely, blisteringly, and woozily outraged, “—HONESTLY—think I went above decks in the middle of a sea-battle looking for—a THRILL?? A casual funtime adventure?!?” 

“I THINK—” he said, snarling between clenched teeth, “—you’re so heedless and cock-sure of yourself, woman, ye somehow thought ye could be of USE and—”

Cock-sure?” I gaped at him, hoping my face was contorted with exactly as much disgust as I felt. “Ohhh, that is RICH, coming from you, James Fraser.” 

“This isna about me, Sassenach—” 

I threw up my good hand. “Could have BLOODY fooled me!” 

“What this is ABOUT, is—” 

And ‘DO I KNOW that I came damn close to dying’?? Why, YES, Jamie, I had the *slightest* premonition of it, RIGHT around the same time as I was being chased and slashed at by a cutlass-wielding maniac.”

My voice was hoarse with screaming and ragged from waves of pain but NOT meek. I struggled halfway up, panting, and Jamie (who had the absolute gall to look exasperated) tried to force me back down. *Tried,* mind. “And as for ‘will I never do as I’m told’…” My head reeled with the excruciating effort of remaining upright, but I glared at him with all my strength. “…Lesson *bloody learned,* my infallible lord and master. I’ll just sit obediently in the corner with my hands in my lap next time and allow your daughter to be raped, *SHALL I*?” 

And that, at last, got his attention, for he went as white and still as death. 

It only threw gasoline on my fire. “And YOU coming in here all—looming over me all—and—banging your fucking fists—” I panted and spluttered. “Not bothering to ASK me what happened or WHY I might have chosen to put myself in danger—Just—shouting and threatening like I was no more to you than—And you—YOU—Oh, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie….” I was still spitting with indignation, but the pain was overwhelming most everything else, and I fell back onto the pillow as my vision began clouding over with black. “Did Marsali not TELL you what happened?” 

“No.” Quiet. Restrained. “She—She’s been so distraught for ye, she’s scarcely gotten more than ten words out…” 

I waited, blinking up from my pillow. I could smell the blood on him, still—gunpowder—the sweat of battle—fear.  

“Was the lass…” He didn’t meet my eye, but I could see the muscles of his face working as he tried to muster up the courage to ask it. “…being attacked?”

Lord, the pain in those five words—his memories of his own trauma and that of those he loved; his fears and insecurities as a father; the terror and concern and love and barely-contained drive for vengeance over what I’d implied could have happened to Marsali. 

I wanted to be angry at him still. Well, and I was, at that. I had every bloody right to scold him into next year—but I lowered my voice. 

“Marsali got frightened when the cannon-fire started, and she bolted. It’s easy to forget how young she really is, you know? She was too terrified to heed me calling her back. I had to chase after her—Couldn’t find her or hardly even see in the dark—and I was shouting for her, shouting, and I—I heard her scream and—” 

Jamie’s jaw clenched tight but he didn’t say a word, nor did he look up from the floor between his feet. 

“By the time I found her, one of the pirates—a huge brute—had come down into the hold, grabbed her, and had her clutched by the arm. She was doing her best to fight him off, but he was triple her size and—” I heaved a deep breath to keep the blackness at bay. “—And I just….I had to get her away from him…in any way I could.” 

He looked up at me, and his eyes were still and bared to his soul. He tried to say something, but gave up, that gaze imploring me.

“So I slashed at him—cut off his toe, I think, and that set off a rage in him, naturally, and—” I shrugged, “—I couldn’t think of anything except to let him chase me, so I ran as far away from Marsali as I could—barely could see two feet in front of me, just—ran—and—” I shuddered, violently, a latent panic attack, I remarked absently, as the remembered terror coursed through my body. “There was so much mayhem on deck, the only place that seemed safe was UP, somehow, and —I was—c-climbing the rigging—I thought surely with what I’d done to his foot, he couldn’t climb—but he could, and he was gain—gaining, and—If the bloody pe—pelican hadn’t knocked the bastard off balance…” 

Jamie reached for me, to comfort and soothe me—but then he faltered, and shrank back, ashamed. 

“Jamie…” Shaking, I reached for his hand, a peace offering. 

He accepted it and clasped my hand tight, gasping a little as he released the control he’d held over his emotions. “I’m…” He leaned over me to lay his forehead lightly on mine, to cradle my head in his hands. Looming, no longer: he offered me his warmth and his comfort; and, more importantly, his repentance

“I’m so verra sorry, mo chridhe,” he whispered, kissing my face and sniffing as he thumbed one of his own tears from my cheek. “Can ye forgive me?” 

I started to say, ‘of course,’ but he couldn’t seem to stop from blurting, “I was—I’ve been half-crazed wi’ fear that you’d die, Claire—” Jamie’s face was indeed wild, searching mine as though disbelieving, every sight and second. “Lord, I still am afraid that the wound—” He shook his head, his curls tickling my forehead. “But that’s no excuse for—for how I treated ye. And I’m sorry for it.”

“Well, no, it isn’t…” I ran my fingers back through his hair, still damp and dirty from the efforts of battle. “But thank you for saying it; and yes, I forgive you.” 

He made a little, soft sound—something between a sob and a sigh— and kissed me. 

“Perhaps next time…” My tone was light, loving, understanding, even if the message itself was difficult. “….you might start by assuming the best of my intentions, rather than the worst? One capable adult to another?” 

‘I promise.” Such gut-wrenching regret and shame. “I’m sorry I’m—such an arse. Ye deserve better…. I’ll be better.”

To his credit, he did not lower his eyes. They were looking right at me when all at once they brightened. “T’was verra brave and noble what ye did, for Marsali.” 

“’Noble’? I repeated, bewildered.

“Aye. Ye put yourself in such terrible danger, for a girl not even your own—Laoghaire’s daughter, of all people, who you’ve no great reason to love. Ye didna have to—” 

“For Heaven’s sake, Jamie, do you truly think so ill of me?” I felt the sparks of another bout of pain-addled indignation. “You think just because her mother happens to be a—” (raging, homicidal bitch) “—misery of a woman, I’d have left her to fend for herself?? To be—” 

“No, no, no, mo nighean donn,” he said at once, sitting up and showing a hint of laughter (perhaps at my careful epithet and perhaps the implied one, too), before his expression again went serious. “Jesus, never, I only meantjust—Ye risked your life for Marsali, and it….”

He squeezed my hand again; his voice was thick and cracked as he said, “…Thank you. Truly, I....Thank you. ” 

Not only for rescuing her, I thought, from the depth in that expression….

For accepting his life the way I’d found it; all of it, after a notably rocky start. For making the most of the challenging parts we could not change. For not letting petty things get in the way of the *new* life we had before us. 

I smiled and gripped his hand.  

Always, love.” 

Dearest Wife

pairing: Negan x Reader

fandom: the walking dead

request:  Can you please write me a Negan one shot where she reluctantly becomes one of his wives in order to protect her young daughter and her group?

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @mikki-hear @dead-head-joker @negans-network @fandomfreak202


The choice you made had neither been out of admiration nor attraction. Agreeing to Negan’s deal and becoming his wife had only served one purpose, keeping your group and especially your little daughter safe. You didn’t really want to but reluctantly agreed in the end.  


Negan was aware of that fact, now painfully reminded that fear did not equal loyalty. He was lying on the ground, bleeding with a wound that most likely had been caused by a gun. He was pointing one of his own towards you but you doubted he would be able to pull the trigger fast enough if you really tried. All you had to do was finish the job. Or better, do nothing at all, he’d bleed out in time.  

Always been one to wear your thoughts and emotions on your face, he shakes his head after taking one look at you.  

“Just make it fucking quick. I’m not thrilled to lie here until I bleed out.” He says and puts his weapon down. It was probably empty anyway because you had seen the ammo lying around in the car.

He would deserve it, no doubt but even if he was the worst ass still walking you weren’t going to let him die like that. It wasn’t your style, though tempting it was.  

“Who did that?”  

“Don’t know, never seen the fuck before.”  

You felt a little guilty, being the one who had asked him to come out here with you. The sanctuary was well equipped but if you wanted something very specific you needed to get it yourself. Asking Negan for help had seemed like a good idea. He was your husband after all, so he might as well act like it sometimes and not just in the bedroom.  


You vanish in the bathroom of the little cabin you had been staying in after it got dark and come back with a first aid kit. Negan watches you cleaning his wound and putting the bandages on while an amused smirk never leaves his face and neither do his eyes.  

You’re glad when you’re done about half an hour later and can escape his gaze for a moment when you leave to wash your hands. Everyone would crumble under that look and you didn’t want him to see your red cheeks.


“Don’t I have the fucking loveliest wife, saving my life and all that shit.” He holds his arms out to you, leaning his back against the couch while he still sits on the floor, “Could have fooled me, always thought you hated me, darling.” He said it in a challenging tone, daring you to disagree with him.  

As much as you wanted to see him dead from time to time, today was not the day. Quite frankly you were tired of arguing with him right now. All the blood and a half dead Negan did make you a bit emotional and you couldn’t bring yourself to start a fight, so you sit down beside him and rest your head on his shoulder.  

“I should drive you back, you need a real doctor.”  

“Let’s stay for a bit longer. I think I fucking like your newfound compliance, dear wife.”  

You roll your eyes at him while Negan starts to let his fingers run through your hair absentmindedly. Was saving him a good idea? No probably not but despite all you couldn’t help but feel something for the man, especially when he was lost in thought like that and looked so…peaceful.

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Lena Luthor || alien detection device

remember how these scenes went? yeah. lena the genius luthor that she is could have easily asked kara to scan her finger and know if she’s alien or not the same way she did with rhea but nope, she didn’t. kara i flew here…on a bus danvers made a much bigger slip than rhea thank the gods queen of daxam and yet lena you could have fooled me luthor still be like lol im a genius you just said you flew here but anyway you’re a reporter now im so proud of you sweaty you can visit me anytime jess tell security kara danvers should be showed in anytime haha ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royalty AU [Chapter 5]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general’s daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the ‘other’ prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Catch Up On Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four
Also on FF.net and AO3.

Word Count: 9,453

Okay, I’m sorry this took so long.  I got in that cycle of overthinking things and it ended up being much longer than anticipated! Future chapters won’t be as long as this one, but I had lots of Killian feels in this one :) so hopefully you all enjoy it! Huge thank you to @optomisticgirl for her endless assistance and support on this story! As always, I own nothing. Happy reading!


The night had barely begun, but Killian finalized his decision with a fifth tug at his pressed sleeve - he hated this bloody suit. Truthfully, he’d never been particularly keen on being properly trimmed and tailored in general so the dismal conclusion wasn’t really a wildly drawn one. Killian had spent his fair share of years finding ways around royal dress code, his preference of modern casual easily overlooked due to his charming smile and stellar sweet talking skills - or at least that’s what he told himself. It was easy to see why looking so proper was important as a representative of his grandmother’s monarchy, but still, that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Perhaps it wasn’t his current attire that was solely the source of his agitation he noted when the smooth traveling black BMW pulled up to the gates of Buckingham. He’d spent the few hours before sunset arguing with the brand new, trim-tailored, clean lined blue suit - an endeavor that earned a multitude of grumbles and a few countdown texts from his incessantly formal brother. Taking a final glance in the bathroom mirror, he smoothed the maroon and navy striped tie as he settled on what was really bothering him.

The event calling for his recently required clothes was one he’d been dreading for weeks now - a Royal Navy veterans’ memorial ceremony where he’d most certainly spend the evening regaling his older brother’s military heroism while squandering the need to sort out his own.

The idea that this was his fault on some level had crossed his mind once or twice since he’d returned home. He’d elected to take the route less selected by royals when he’d chosen the British Army instead of sailing the honorable seas. Breaking the tradition wasn’t something he’d done by fear or a distaste for the open ocean, but rather a result of his stubborn need to move out from under his older sibling’s shadow.

Of course, that was supposing that such a momentous feat was actually possible.

Keep reading

[This fic was requested by the ever so lovely @legolasothranduilion and I think it may be the longest fic I’ve posted on here. I guess I got carried away, or made a mess of things, we’ll see. Fair warning, there are quite a few time skips so I apologize if anything is confusing]

                       I bolted upright in bed, my skin was drenched in sweat and a violent sob tore from my throat. I looked around the room but it had been just a dream, my mom was really dead but she wasn’t here with me.
           "Hey, don’t do that,“
           Barry was suddenly there, pulling me into his arms I held him to me for a couple of minutes before pulling away.
           "I’m sorry; I just had a dream about flashpoint. I just… it was such a big mistake, we shouldn’t have gone back but Barry it was simultaneously the best and worst mistake we could have made,” I croaked, and he squeezed my hand.
           "I know, I miss them too,“ he whispered.
           "We made such a mess of things, didn’t we? Cisco will barely talk to me, everything is different, Julian,” I felt a flutter in my stomach but chose to ignore it, “Julian hates us both, how do we even do this?”
           Barry smiled gently, “Together, just like we always have,”
           I smiled back at him, “How did you know I needed you?” I asked.
           He laughed lightly, “Twin telepathy,” he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck before growing more serious.
           "I had the same dream, I woke up wanting to see you and it’s a good thing I did,“
           "We’ll have to be at work in a few hours, do you want to watch Netflix with me until then?”
           "Sure,“ he said softly.

***

           "I brought coffee and donuts,” I set the box and tray down on my desk.
           "I’ll pass,“ Julian said sourly but I set the coffee on his desk anyway with a donut on top of a napkin beside it.
           "Where’s that intolerable brother of yours anyway?”
           No matter how fast Barry could run he was always late to work but he was too good at what he did to be fired for it, damn him.
           "He was asked to run an errand for Jo-“
           Julian gave me a pointed look over his microscope.
           "Detective West,” I corrected myself, before moving behind my desk and opening one of my files.
           When I had arrived to this timeline with Barry and we had met Julian it became startlingly clear that he didn’t like us, in fact, he loathed us. And yet part of me had felt something for him and that feeling had only begun to grow in spite of Julian’s cruel and sarcastic disposition. I remember defending Julian to Barry when we went out with Joe and Iris one day and all Barry could say was,
           "Of all the guys you could have picked from you choose the one that hates you?“
           When he said it like that it didn’t sound great at all, but I liked to think there was more to Julian than we knew about. If he was this passionate about people he hated I couldn’t help but wonder how passionate he would be about the people he loved.
           "If you’re going to stare at me instead of doing you work I don’t know why you bothered to come at all. At least your brother doesn’t show, whereas you sit at your desk with a ridiculous look on your face creating an illusion of productivity,” he grumbled, moving from his telescope to type something on his laptop.
           I narrowed my eyes at him, “I really think you need that coffee,”
           Julian snorted.
           "And you can criticize my work ethic and productivity all you want, but at the end of the day, I’ve opened and closed more cases than you have,“
           He looked up at me with a cold look on his face and I took a long drink of my coffee without breaking his gaze.
           "But that’s none of my business,”
           "Allen, Albert, we have a situation,“ the chief said as he entered the room.
           Julian and I looked at each other briefly before we both rose.

***Julian’s P.O.V***

           If there was one saving grace for Y/N Allen it was that she took her job seriously, unlike her brother. Sure, there were some days where she would drop off the face of the planet but at least she didn’t expect any special treatment for her absence. She accepted any consequence or task silently, she made up for the days she missed unlike her brother.
           For a second I spared her a glance, she was a few feet away talking to the chief and some of the witnesses. Though she was better at the hands on work she always seemed to step aside whenever her brother miraculously arrived. She had her hair up today as usual, she wore a dress in a rich purple with a simple cardigan but that particular shade of purple made her blue eyes even more startling.
           I looked away from her rolling my eyes at myself on the inside. I hated her less than her brother, but I still hated her. I didn’t trust them. I couldn’t.

***Y/N’s P.O.V***

           I returned to Barry’s side just as he invited Julian to the movie in the park.
           "It should be fun, we’d be happy to have you,” I chimed in with a welcoming, if slightly anticipatory smile.
           "That’s a very enticing offer, Allen’s, but I’m actually seeing my girlfriend tonight, so,“
           "Oh,” Barry and I both breathed out in unison, only Barry kept talking.
           I didn’t know he was seeing anybody. Now I just felt like an idiot, I mean I was probably an idiot before but now I felt like a bigger idiot and Barry could tell. I left them then, I felt stupid just being there and I began to bag up the body. I was grateful that when Barry came to help he didn’t say anything.

***The Next Day***

I clutched the wound on my stomach, rolling onto my side I watched as Savitar froze and vanished. Barry collapsed and relief washed over me. He was okay, we were okay, but what the hell just happened?
           "Y/N, are you okay?“ Caitlin asked, coming to my side.
           "I was just thrown around like a ragdoll and impaled by a metal giant, but other than that I am just Peachy,” I grunted.

***

           Once Caitlin had me stitched up and on the mend I didn’t stay there for long or go home for that matter, instead I went to work. Julian was there and he looked at me with distaste as usual before returning to his task.
           "Where’s your brother?“
           "There’s a family issue-”
           "And you’re not family?“ Julian said sarcastically.
           I flinched.
           "I umm, I figured I’d be more useful here,”
           "Unlikely, but that’s none of my business,“ he mocked me.
           I wasn’t in the mood to be mocked or insulted by him so I walked over to my desk and sat down quietly.
           "Did you have a nice time last night?”
           I decided to omit saying with his girlfriend.
           "Does it matter?“
           Deciding complete silence was my only option I began to work on a report. After everything that has happened, even now when he is being such an asshole, why do I feel a bit better here? Why do I find the banter (which I usually partake in) so comforting? Why is it that I can’t find any comfort amongst my brother and his friends yet I feel better just sitting across from Julian.
           "I don’t remember much of last night to be honest,”
            I perked up, “Oh, so you must have had a good time,” I laughed lightly, while continuing to type.
           "Yes, I suppose I must’ve,“ but he had taken that sarcastic tone again.
           "Did something happen with your girlfriend?” I’d regret asking that later but this was the most progress we had made conversationally.

***Julian’s P.O.V***

           "My what?“ I demanded.
           Her eyes widened a fraction, "Your girlf- I’m sorry you told Barry yesterday that you- I must have heard wrong I’m so sorry-”
           Her embarrassment was amusing, cute, and frustrating all at once.
           "That was an excuse,“ I said curtly.
           She turned to her work again looking rather cross with me, "And you say it’s Barry and I that can’t be trusted,”
           I glared at her, “I beg your pardon?”
           "You could have been honest with us, Barry was just being polite,“
           "He was just playing his part in the Barry Allen Show,”
           She rarely ever got really angry and when she did colour would rise to her cheeks and she would clench her fists like she was doing now. I liked being cruel to Barry because he deserved it, I was cruel to her because she had so much potential but she was wasting it. She was beautiful, intelligent, talented, and kind but she was throwing all of her virtues away.
           "You can think whatever you want about my brother and I, but from now on I’d appreciate it if you would keep your opinions to yourself,“
           Her tone surprised me but I moved forward in my seat anyway.
           "May I ask you a question?”
           She looked mildly surprised but cautious, “What?”
           "Why are you here?“
           Confusion knitted her brows together "I um, I work here? This is our offi-”
           "But you’re not really needed here now, are you?“
           "I’ll just ignore that because you’re obviously just being a dick right no-”
           "You’re good at your job, there is no doubt about it but I’m here and so is your brother. When he is around you fade into the background and cease to be of any use or value, so why are you here? I don’t need your brother here even though he is absent enough as it is so why would I need his shadow?“
           I had only meant to confront her, to understand why she was always handing the wheel to her brother. I wanted to know when she had accepted becoming second best to Barry. However, I did not mean for my words to cut her so deeply as to tear open a wound that had apparently already been there. She got to her feet.
           "I’m not my brother, I’m my own person-”
           "You could have fooled me-“
           "Y/N, what’s going on?” Joe had entered the room but we were only focused on each other.
           "You don’t know anything, all you do is make assumptions and sit at your desk acting like you are better than anyone who walks through that door but you’re not. You’re bitter, you’re alone, and you’re an asshole-“
           "But at least I am an individual, at least this is who I choose to be. When did you choose to be your brother? No one needs another Barry Allen, Y/N, so I’ll ask you one more time. Why. Are. You. Here?”
           She raised a hand to silence Detective West before he could speak and she cleared her throat.
           "I’m not here, I won’t be here, not anymore,“
           "What are you prattling on about?”
           "I’m saying I quit,“
           That hadn’t been what I wanted at all and I rose quickly when she began to walk to the door but I was frozen, I didn’t know what to say or what I could say. She turned back to face me as she stood in the doorway, looking as though she wanted to say more but instead she said thickly,
           "I wish you the best of luck in the future, Mr. Albert,” and with that she was gone.
           I slowly sunk back down into my seat, running a hand down my face. What did I just do?
           "Why the hell would you do something like that?“ Detective West demanded.
           "I didn’t think she’d quit-”
           "I don’t think you thought at all before saying what you just did, and as unprofessional as all of this is I think after what just happened it doesn’t really matter,“
           "Detective West-”
           "No, I’m talking now. You don’t know her, you may have worked with her for a year now but you don’t know a damn thing about Y/N. She didn’t deserve that,“
           "I know she didn’t,”
           "Then what the hell were you thinking?“
           "I wasn’t thinking… exactly. But can you honestly tell me what I said wasn’t true?” I demanded.
           "You don’t think she knows? You don’t think she is aware that even though she is Barry’s twin she is always being compared to him? She has had a hard life, her parents died, and god rest their souls, they clearly favoured Barry. And even though I love her like a daughter there was a disconnect between us that wasn’t there with Barry and I knew she could feel it. She never felt like she was good enough and she would push herself too hard. When she was eighteen she disappeared without a trace, no one could find her, we thought she was dead. Three years later she got in contact with Barry; she started sending us postcards and then he managed to talk her into coming back,“ Joe was silent for a few seconds.
           I couldn’t meet his eyes, I felt like I didn’t deserve to have been told any of that, I was too cruel to her. I had always been cruel to her, more so than Barry, because A. I didn’t trust her and B. I thought she needed a firm hand to realize she was settling for mediocrity. Though my intentions weren’t entirely good that part was, I don’t know her, but I know what she is capable of and she wasn’t utilising it at her brother’s hip.
           "She never told us what she got up to when she was gone, but I don’t think all of it was good. I know you never liked her or Barry, but bottom line is you don’t know them, and to tell you the truth, you’re missing out on two amazing people,”
           And with that he was gone. I stared down at the file on my desk before glancing over at hers; and with a violent yell I knocked everything off of my desk. I have to apologize to her, make things right, she has to know I give a damn.

***
           Both The Flash and his female companion Sonic appeared between me and the meta Caitlin Snow. What I didn’t seem to understand was why one of them didn’t just grab her from behind but I felt it best to keep my opinions to myself.
           "She’s willing to hurt someone! Knock her out!“
           Sonic turned to me and in an instant I was plunged into darkness.

***Y/N’s P.O.V***

           I hadn’t meant to hit him so hard, even if he did have that one coming. I resisted the urge to kneel down and check on him because we had bigger problems.
           "Like you both helped your mother?”
           I rose, turning slowly, “Caitlin…” Barry and I said in unison.
           "You both keep messing with everyone’s lives, wrecking everything, and we’re left behind to pick up the pieces from your mistakes! Some things you break you can’t put back together!“
           "I can fix this,” Barry said thickly.
           "We messed up, we know that, but we’re trying to make it right. Please let us try to make this right,“ I whispered.
           "Like you made it right with Cisco? Oh wait, you didn’t. You can’t fix his family now can you? You didn’t tell Cisco you guys screwed him worst of all did you?”
           I held Barry’s hand as Caitlin turned to the camera, “You hear that Cisco? Dante was alive, healthy and happy until Barry and Y/N created flashpoint! When they reset things, that’s what killed him. They are the reason your brother is dead,”
           "Albert’s down, shoot her!“
           Barry grabbed Caitlin and we ran out of the way of the gunfire.
           "What’s our play-”
           Barry’s pain filled scream caused me to jerk around, my hands burned as I made a move to use my flames against her but she froze my torso and I couldn’t move.
           "Don’t follow me!“
           Barry and I looked between each other as she ran off and I wished with everything in me we could take back Flashpoint. I would give anything to erase what we did, even if in that timeline my parents loved me too.

*** (After Cisco confronts Barry and Y/N over the death of his brother)

           I found Cisco gearing up, when he looked at me I couldn’t help but feel like I had lost him forever. I was closer to Cisco than I was to Caitlin, I loved Caitlin and I would do anything to help her but… Cisco always knew what to say. He was my best friend and I hated that I had hurt him so badly.
           "I know you probably don’t want to listen to anything I have to say right now… I also know we don’t have long because we have to look for Caitlin… but I need you to let me attempt to explain-”
           "What’s there to explain? My brother is dead because of you and Barry, end of story.“
           "No,” I said firmly, “Not end of story,”
           He made a move to leave but I stepped in front of him, “Let me just say what I have to say and if you choose to hate me I will accept that,”
           His eyes narrowed, “Five minutes, that’s it,”
           I nodded, clearing my throat.
           "You know how you asked us to bring Dante back? You begged us, you pleaded-“
           "But you wouldn’t even though you both did it for yoursel-”
           "We did it before Dante died. We wouldn’t do it because we realized what a mistake we had made,“
           "You think that fixes things?”
           "No,“ I whispered, "No, I know nothing will ever be the same again… but you begged us to bring back Dante. You can understand that grief, that desperation… so when our dad died-”
           "You didn’t even like your dad-“
           "But he was still my dad… I was still hurting… and I couldn’t let Barry do it alone. Flashpoint was great while it lasted, but we realized how badly we screwed up. We thought we paid the consequence when we had to watch our mom die again, but it turns out we have so much more to pay for. We never meant to hurt you, we never meant to hurt anyone, we just wanted the ones we loved back too. We just didn’t realize we’d lose more people we loved in the process,” I swallowed hard.
           "I know none of this matters to you, it doesn’t bring Dante back… I just wanted you to know that we are so sorry, I’m sorry, and I hope one day I can make it right,“
           I left the room then, raising my chin and composing myself for the coming mission.

***(A few days later) Julian’s P.O.V***

           Allen had come to me to ask about the Philosophers Stone, his clear inability to tell right from wrong in regards to his friend Caitlin had served only to make me hate him more. However, I couldn’t help but risk losing a bit of my pride in asking about Y/N. I wanted to see her again, to apologize… and to perhaps tell her… I just needed to see her. There was a moment where I came close but Ms. West seemed all too eager to get in my way.
           Barry seemed less than inclined to extend any apology, but he did tell me she was doing well. She had found herself a new occupation none the less as an [insert dream occupation here]. Even though she was probably aligned with her brother in regards to this Caitlin business I hoped she was happy. I hoped one day our paths would cross again.
           ***Y/N’s P.O.V***

           Just when I think I am done with Julian Albert he is thrown back into my life. I was no longer angry at him though, I was concerned, I was concerned because Julian was Alchemy.
Only I knew in my gut that he was only a pawn, I knew it even before Joe or Barry confirmed my suspicions but Barry and I ran down to Julian’s cell regardless.
           "Have you been blacking out? Hours passing, waking up somewhere different and not being sure how you got there?”
           Julian shook his head, “No,”
           He was lying; I could tell… he was afraid.
           "No?“ I prodded.
           "No. I’ve had enough of these baseless accusations and these ridiculous theories of yours,”
           "We’re trying to help you, but you need to trust us,“ Barry said firmly.
           "Says the pair in masks,”
           Barry looked at me and we both nodded. He removed his mask first and stepped into the light. A look of pure satisfaction crossed over Julian’s face.
           "I should have known, I should have guessed it! The unexplained absences, your passion for meta’s, your general thumbing your nose at authority. I’m sure you had a good laugh behind my back. But if you’re The Flash that mean she’s-“
           I stepped forward and removed my mask, "Barry’s shadow, hello Julian,”
           He looked away from me quickly and back to Barry.
           "I seriously wish I could have told you before,“ Barry whispered.
           "So why tell me now?”
           "Because we need you to trust us, you are Alchemy. I just don’t think you’re aware of it,“ I said.

***(After everything with Savitar)***

           I didn’t go straight to Joe’s, instead I went home and had a nice long shower, got dressed, and went down to the CCPD to grab the rest of my things. For some reason after everything that happened today it seemed like a good thing to do. I was almost done when I heard someone clear their throat and I looked up to see Julian standing in the doorway.
           "I’ll be out of here in a minute,”
           "No, please, stay as long as you like,“ he whispered.
           He looked broken, scared, and dressed for a party he said he wasn’t going to attend. I couldn’t help but soften a little towards him.
           "You look like you could use a drink,”
           "Try several,“ he laughed half heartedly.
           I reached into my box and pulled out a small bottle of brandy, "Will this work?”
           He smiled softly, “That’s excellent, thank you,”
           He leaned against the desk beside me, our arms almost touching and I took a sip of brandy before handing the bottle over to him.
           "A while back, the fifteen year old boy with the hologram, I almost killed him. The monster we were chasing was just his hologram Flash- your brother, came to save the day. And he saved me from doing something,“ he choked off and I rested a hand on his forearm.
           "You don’t have to say-”
           "Please,“ he whispered, his blue eyes meeting mine.
           "I owe you an apology and this is how it starts,”
           Squeezing his arm I took the bottle from him and took a drink before nodding to urge him to continue.
           "What’s sad was the kid was just acting because he was scared, you know? He wanted everyone to be terrified of him and to run away from the monster so he could feel powerful. I know what that’s like,“
           "So do I, but I’d like to know what you mean by that,”
           "I come from a pretty wealthy family, back in England. It’s a long line of generations of old money, tradition, nonsense really. And I was the heir, I was their firstborn son, I was supposed to inherit the lot. But I was the odd duck who would rather go in the garden and collect samples of insects. Rather than learn how to tie a Windsor knot or which fork to use first at dinner. I wanted more, you know?“
           "You made the right choice,” I whispered.
           My heart squeezed as he told me all of this. To have been so deprived of any information about him only to receive it in kind was different to say the least. I saw myself in him, only he ran away to better himself when I just… ran away.
           "I came here to do the one thing they couldn’t stop me from doing, becoming a scientist. Becoming a great scientist, and then just as I got to the top of my field the world changes over night. Meta-humans. I don’t know a single thing about meta-humans. I don’t know how they talk, how they walk, I certainly don’t know the first thing about stopping them, so,“ he took the bottle and took a long drink of brandy
           "I’m rendered useless, I suppose that’s the monster I’m running from now, just feeling powerless,”
           "Even the powerful feel powerless, Julian. Take it from someone who knows,“
           "I know. What my sad story is trying to convey is that I know what it’s like to be held up to standards and expectations that you feel you can never meet. I understand what it’s like to feel out of place, I’m truly sorry for the way I handled things. I just projected my own anger for myself onto you in a way. We are both running and I want us both to stop being so afraid, you know?”
           He looked at me when I didn’t reply and I took in his features for a moment. His face which once seemed so harsh and cold to me had grown softer and more open. I hesitantly reached out and took his hand. For a moment he looked startled before he interlaced his fingers with mine.
           "If anything I should be thanking you, you were right. I was living my life thinking that I would never measure up to Barry,“
           I let my hand drop, "But I never will measure up to him because I’m not Barry. I’m just me… it was about time I started living a life I chose for myself,”
           Clearing my throat I straightened, feeling warm from the brandy.
           "Apology accepted, and thank you,“
           "Does this mean you’ll come back to the CCPD?”
           I smiled, “You said it yourself, you guys don’t need me. I love it here, but [insert dream occupation here] is my true calling. Merry Christmas, Julian,”
           Julian rose as well so we stood a mere inches apart and I felt his hand trail down my arm.
           "There’s something else,“
           "Yeah, and what’s that?” I asked breathlessly.
           "You look beautiful tonight, you have always looked so damned beautiful I could scarcely stand it sometimes,“
           "Is that all?”
           "Not even close,“ He brushed a lock of hair from my face and I felt like my heart was going to burst from my chest.
           "I have loved you, I think from the very first moment I met you with your frustrating kindness, your intolerable generosity, and your infuriating abundance of optimism. You challenge me, you make me laugh, and I find that for some reason even when I thought I hated you when I was around you, you felt like-”
           "Home?“
           His nose brushed against mine, I felt his breath on my lips as he said "Exactly,” before they pressed against mine. His lips were soft, warm, and inviting. We kissed for a long time, each second making the kiss grow in intensity before I finally pulled away.
           "How would you like to attend a Christmas party with me?“
           "It would be a privilege,”