elle writes things

49 + malec (post downworlder meeting 2x19) magnus’ pov

you may find part one here

a few people requested this drabble be written from magnus’ point of view, so here it is. i’m not writing so much about whatever he’s up to with the seelie queen because there’s so many theories floating around right now, i’m not going to project any of them onto his character until we know for sure. so some things might be edited monday, but until then enjoy magnus’ emotions. (this turned out a lot longer than i had planned). 

got a request? send it in. there’s a prompt list here, but if you have other ideas, send them. (the ships don’t all have to be malec. i love writing bellarke, clace, clalec BROTP never ever ever romantic, and pretty much anything shadowhunters/the 100).

Every bone in Magnus’ body was telling him to turn around and go back, not to leave Alec; but, he knew that he couldn’t. It would defeat the purpose of everything he had been working towards.

But he couldn’t stop seeing the expression on Alec’s face when he followed the Seelie Queen out of the room. If looks could kill, Magnus would have dropped dead on the spot. There was just so much disbelief and betrayal in the shadowhunter’s eyes that it physically hurt his heart to think about it. 

Magnus heard a loud “Alec, don’t!” coming from the room behind him and by the time he registered what was going on, Alec was calling his name and storming towards him. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as he looked over to the Seelie Queen for permission to speak to Alec. 

When she gave him the okay, Magnus noticed the glare Alec shot in her direction, even if it were only there for a split second. 

“What are you doing?” Alec hissed at him. “What the hell was that in there?” 

Magnus couldn’t open his mouth. He knew if he did, everything he couldn’t say would come tumbling out. 

Alec began to chuckle out a cold, heartless laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Tell him, Magnus. Tell him there is nothing left for him with you,” the queen told him. 

But Magnus knew that he couldn’t. It wasn’t true. Magnus wouldn’t believe that there was nothing left between he and Alec. He knew for Alec’s sake he should respond and say what the queen wanted to hear, but he just couldn’t find the words. 

He heard Alec sigh and then say, “Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” 

At that moment, Magnus felt his heart begin to crack. He flinched away from Alec’s words as if Alec had physically taken a swing at the warlock. Magnus tried his best to compose himself as Alec began stepping closer. 

Alec was so close now that Magnus could see every color in the eyes he’d foolishly become so used to waking up to in the morning. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?” Alec asked. Magnus didn’t realize that he still hadn’t spoken. 

Magnus heard footfalls and glanced over Alec’s shoulder to see that Raphael, Isabelle, Clary, Jace, and Luke were now all standing around watching the scene unfold.

Before he could get a word out, Magnus saw something in Alec snap. It was just like he had been hanging off of a cliff and finally let go. “You know what, Magnus?” Magnus thought he really didn’t want to know. “You’re a hypocrite. You’re a hypocrite and I regret ever falling in love with you.” 

At that, Magnus’ heart broke into a million tiny pieces he was sure he could never put back together unless it was Alec applying the bandaids. His eyes began to burn with tears and he heard the sorrow in Isabelle’s voice as she breathed out, “Oh, Alec.” He heard Clary’s sharp intake of breath, Jace’s low whistle, and Luke letting out a “damn.” When he looked to the Seelie Queen, he thought he was going to be sick. She was smiling. She was enjoying this. 

Magnus looked back to Alec and said the only thing he could think of, the only thing he hoped to be true in this moment. “You don’t mean that.” 

Alec was turned slightly sideways at this point, looking toward the crowd. “Look at that!” he practically yelled. “He speaks!” 

Magnus knew that Alec had to be hurting a terrible amount to lose his temper in front of the Downworld Council. As Head of the Institute, it would most definitely be frowned upon. 

“Alexander-” Magnus started but was quickly cut off when Alec spun on his heel to face him once again. 

“You do not get to call me that! You lost that right! That is reserved for friends and family only. It’s Alec to you.” Alec’s eyes were burning with rage and hurt, but Magnus still thought they were beautiful. 

He could feel the tears beginning to form behind his eyes and he clenched his jaw to keep them at bay. The queen could not see this side of him. 

“That’s it. Show’s over,” Alec said. Before Magnus knew it, Alec was pushing through the crowd of people and out of his sight. He watched as Isabelle followed after him, crying out for him to stop for a second. Magnus knew Alec wouldn’t stop. Not now. He wouldn’t accept Isabelle’s comfort. He would throw everything he had into his work.

Jace shot Magnus a look before turning and following in Isabelle’s footsteps. Luke and Raphael just looked away. Clary had tears in her eyes. 

“Come now,” the Seelie Queen said. “There’s so much work to be done.” 

Yes, Magnus thought, there is

anonymous asked:

omg i did not even know you would write a thing if asked?? that is maybe the sweetest thing ever and i don't even really know what to ask for except something where ferre is being particularly gentle? he is my favorite. something really horrible happened to me recently and i'm trying so hard to keep moving but have mostly just been scared and hurt and lost? but i am trying to hold on very tightly to the stuff that cheers me up.

oh gosh of course i’d be happy to- i’m sorry you had to go through something that’s making you feel like that but i’m so glad you’re concentrating on your happiness during rough times and i hope things get better soon- moving forward is all you can do sometimes, and i wish you all the best

here’s a little courferre for you, and anyone else who might need it right now :) [inspired by You Can Sleep While I Drive by Melissa Etheridge, which happened to come on when i started writing and is a song very close to my heart]


Combeferre finds Courfeyrac where he left him, curled up in blankets on the sofa, not really watching tv, just sort of staring at it. Things have been… hard. On all of them. But Courfeyrac has been worse off than anyone, and Combeferre’s never felt more distant from him. Courfeyrac doesn’t ask for help when he’s hurting, Combeferre knows this. He’s spent so much of his life being the one others lean on that his impulse, when things get rough, is to isolate himself, so as not to burden others, and can’t be told that he isn’t a burden. He’s pulled away from everyone closest to him, and Combeferre doesn’t know how to fix things, but is resolved to try.

“I need to get out of here.” He says, mind made up, and Courfeyrac turns to look at him. “Some new surroundings might provide a different perspective.”

Courfeyrac nods, slowly, unblinking and blank. “It’ll be good for you.”

“For us.” Combeferre clarifies. “I think you could use a change of scenery.”

Courfeyrac frowns. “‘ferre, I’m not- I won’t be good company.”

Combeferre shrugs, pulling on his coat. “You don’t need to be. I just- we both need some air, some time away from this apartment. We don’t have to talk about- anything. We can just get away from things for a while.” 

“It’s the middle of the night.” Courfeyrac murmurs, but stands, slowly, and wraps his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“You can sleep while I drive.” 

Keep reading

8

Sorry I haven’t posted in a couple days, guys! I’ll try to make up for it with this compilation of studying, reading, and writing ladies (not my gifs). 

1. Nancy Wheeler studying chemistry (Stranger Things)

2/5. Elle Woods studying for the LSAT (Legally Blonde)

3/6. Hermione Granger reading (Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone/Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)

4. Veronica Sawyer writing (Heathers)

7. Matilda Wormwood reading (Matilda)

8. Belle teaching a girl how to read (Beauty and the Beast (2017)) 

Ok but listen talk to me about elle

talk to me about elle alone, about elle trapped in the house where she was murdered, talk to me about how she knows exactly where she died

talk to me about elle in love, all victorian sensibilities and white-dressed purity and falling for the dark stranger who came to her by fate and carriage crash

talk to me about elle turned bitter, turned greedy, who longed for a life outside her four-walled prison

talk to me about elle who fell in love in moonlight

she was a victim of romance, of love, as tragic as any story of star-crossed lovers

talk to me about elle young and helpless, about how carmilla was the first person to break her open, to curl against her in her four-posted bed and make promises and kiss her long and slow and careful

talk to me about how carmilla was the last

i want to hear about the elle that tried to save others, and then herself, and how in the end she saved neither

talk to me about the elle that never got redemption, who became the monster she feared, who didn’t get a happy ending

Pinch


Words: 1,555

Warnings: None, just fluffy nonsense

The light clacking of button mashing and video game sound effects filled the room you and Genji currently shared. Your bodies were slumped and comfortably intertwined with each other on the small couch, the coolness of his robotics welcomed against your exposed skin. Both of you enthusiastically tapped away at the controllers completely lost to the real world. Yet you untangled yourself from him and he inquired that if you were uncomfortable, just to say so and he’d move. It’s not that you were uncomfortable, you just wanted to get into position to kick his ass. That bent forward, edge of the couch, elbows on your knees adrift in concentration kind of determination.

Keep reading

prompt 41 + malec for anonymous & @rowanstroian

hili my lovely followers. i’m back with yet another short fic. comments/feedback are greatly appreciated. (this is show!malec and like in between 2x15 & 2x16). also the end, how ironic lmao. also, i’m convinced that magnus still hasn’t said i love you first so i’m waiting for it to become canon before i start putting it in pics.

got a request? send it in. there’s a prompt list here, but if you have other ideas, send them. (the ships don’t all have to be malec. i love writing bellarke, clace, clalec BROTP never ever ever romantic, and pretty much anything shadowhunters/the 100). 

“I had a nightmare about you, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus Bane was more than used to pounding on his door at all hours of the night; however, he was not expecting the person on the other side of the door. 

Magnus trudged through his loft toward the door in nothing but blue silk pajama pants and a black robe that he didn’t bother to tie. He was sure his hair was a mess and that his makeup was smudged, but he was too tired to care. 

“What is so important that it couldn’t wait until the morn-” Magnus swung the door open and stopped short. “-ing,” he finished. Alec was standing in front of him, his hair equally as messy and rumpled clothes. He wasn’t supposed to be staying tonight; he’d said there was too much paperwork at the Institute and he would just stay there. So, Magnus was little taken aback by the sight before him. 

“Alexander, what-” 

Alec crashed into Magnus, throwing his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him close. Magnus slowly wrapped his hands around Alec, tightening his grip. “What on earth is going on?” he asked. 

When Alec pulled away from the hug to look at Magnus, he had a frantic look in his shining eyes. “You’re okay? Nothing happened?” 

“Other than being woken from a very vivid dream about Freddie Mercury in a banana suit, which I can never un-see, I am perfectly okay,” Magnus said with a tilt of his head. “Now will you tell me why you’re pounding on my door at three in the morning looking like you just got word the gates to hell have opened?” 

Alec sighed and broke away from his embrace with Magnus. He stalked over to the black leather couch and sat down, looking very shaken up. “I had a nightmare about you, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

Magnus’s heart simultaneously broke and filled up with love. He moved to sit down next to Alec, resting a hand on the shadowhunter’s leg. “I’m alright, Alec,” he said softly, rubbing smooth circles on Alec’s thigh with his thumb. “You can breathe now.” 

Magnus was caught off guard for the third time in the span of about five minutes, Alec had turned and crashed into Magnus, pressing his lips hard against Magnus’s. Magnus quickly regained his composure and lifted a hand to cup the right side of Alec’s face. 

Alec pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead before pulling Magnus into his chest. “I don’t want to lose you. Ever,” Alec said, his voice cracking. 

This was new. Alec hardly ever showed vulnerability around Magnus, lately it had been the other way around. After everything Magnus had been through, Alec had been more than supportive and annoyingly apologetic (he apologized for what happened with Valentine at least ten times a day). 

Magnus sighed and looked up to find Alec already staring down at him. “You won’t lose me, Alexander. I’ll always be here for you.” 

Alec visibly relaxed. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” Magnus replied. 

The long awaited Couch AU

It started as a running joke with @tel-abelas-mofo (so you know it’s NSFW). It was, like, a million chapters ago. I could wait until the next DWC to publish, but I wanted to cheer her up :D

Also tagging @thevikingwoman because it’s relevant to your interests :>

This is the Duck Pond universe, before the fateful dinner that (inaccurately) revealed Elle’s sexual orientation. that’s also when I meant to publish this

solo!Solas under the cut




When Solas got home from work he shed his tweed jacket—one without elbow patches, as Elle had delightedly pointed out—and dropped his briefcase on the kitchen table. Then he preheated the oven for dinner; the casserole was already prepared, only waiting to be warmed. He kicked off his shoes as he made for the living room before stretching out on the couch.

He’d brought home a large stack of essays to grade, but he could already feel that he would be unable to concentrate well enough to do them any justice. After a moment’s consideration, he decided to finally watch the documentary on Ferelden manufacturing Elle had been recommending to him.

He pulled it up before settling back in the cushions, waiting for the oven to heat. He leaned against the armrest after setting the remote and angling and his sock-clad feet on the coffee table, ankles crossed. He interlaced his hands behind his head.

Keep reading

prompt 233 + malec : without you

this is like book!malec but show!malec too..it’s like both combined if that makes any sense at all. idk it could be applied to either. i don’t know. look it’s malec and that’s all that matters. it’s late and i’m tired and i’m about to spew some word vomit. this is a lot of kissing and sexual intimacy and i’m not sorry (but if that’s not your thing, keep scrolling). this is just domestic intimacy and i don’t even know how this happened.

got a request? send it in. there’s a prompt list here, but if you have other ideas, send them. (the ships don’t all have to be malec. i love writing bellarke, clace, clalec BROTP never ever ever romantic, and pretty much anything shadowhunters/the 100).

“I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.” 

Alec Lightwood never was one to let his guard down. He felt as if he were always looking over his shoulder, waiting for danger to jump out and consume him. 

But it was different when it was just he and Magnus in the safety of the loft. Alec didn’t have to worry about demons lurking in the shadows or psychopathic megalomaniacs. All Alec had to worry about was Magnus. 

That’s why when Magnus pushed him back onto the bed, Alec didn’t try to fight it. Magnus was smiling at Alec like he always did when he was feeling particularly overwhelmed with love for the shadowhunter. 

“Hi,” Alec whispered, looking up into his boyfriend’s eyes. 

Magnus smiled wider and crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Hi,” he replied, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to Alec’s jawline. 

Alec closed his eyes and sunk into the red silk sheets and ridiculous amount of decorative pillows strewn about. Magnus had quickly done away with the duvet with a flick of his hand while they were coming into the bedroom. So there wasn’t anything left for Alec to do but relax. 

Magnus pressed another kiss where Alec’s jawline met his ear and breathed down the younger boy’s neck. “I love you,” he said softly. 

“I love you,” Alec responded a little breathlessly. He turned his neck to the side, baring his deflect rune to Magnus. Magnus leaned bit down gently on the space right next to where the rune was placed and smiled when he felt Alec let out a sigh. 

Alec’s long, skilled fingers, calloused from years of archery, slid up Magnus’s back and gripped onto his shirt. He pulled it quickly over Magnus’s head and Magnus removed Alec’s shirt with a spark of his fingers. 

“I hate it when you do that,” Alec said. 

Magnus looked down into Alec’s eyes, so full of love, so full of want. “Do what?”

“Take off my clothes using your magic. I have to do it the hard way,” Alec groaned as he fumbled with the button on Magnus’s pants. 

Magnus couldn’t help that he started laughing. “Oh, Alexander,” he said and surged forward to crash his lips against Alec’s. Alec made a small noise of surprise before kicking the rest of Magnus’s pants off with his feet. 

When there were no articles of clothing separating them anymore, the duvet was suddenly back on top of them, encasing them in warmth. Alec felt as Magnus slid his tongue along Alec’s lips and Alec opened his mouth, letting Magnus take control. 

Magnus tried fumbling for a foil package on the bedside table without breaking away from Alec, but it wasn’t working. Alec’s chest began to rumble with laughter underneath him. The shadowhunter was letting out little giggles that Magnus knew were only ever heard by his ears. “What’s so funny?” Magnus demanded, breaking away from the kiss. 

“It’s just so mundane that you’re trying to get one you can’t reach instead of just making one appear,” Alec giggled, putting a hand to his mouth. 

“Alexander, I’m not sure I like the fact that you are laughing at me whilst I am trying to woo you,” Magnus said with a tilt of his head and a slight grin. His hands were braced on each side of Alec’s head, holding him up. 

Alec slid a hand down Magnus’s chest until it came to rest on his hip. He squeezed it gently before speaking, “You don’t have to ‘woo’ me anymore, Magnus. I’ve been wooed. I am yours completely.” 

“But then where’s the romance, Alec? You can’t just let romance die in a relationship. We’ll become so bored.” Magnus was teasing at this point, but he loved these moments with Alec. 

“I could never be bored with you,” Alec murmured and pulled Magnus down so that he was face-to-face with him. 

Magnus made a noise in the back of his throat, something between a groan and squeak. “You are my entire world, did you know that?” 

“Hmmm, I had a feeling I was something like that,” Alec grinned as Magnus made the foil packet rise from the table and come to him. 

There was suddenly a frenzy of tangled limbs and clashing mouths and happiness. When they were finally connected in the closest way possible, Alec groaned against Magnus’s mouth. 

Magnus slid his fingers between Alec’s and squeezed, pushing Alec’s hand up toward his head and into the mattress. The movement between the two was fluid, natural, as if it were meant to be. 

They were flames, burning hotter with each passing second. Embers crackling against their skin and igniting every cell in their bodies. Alec held onto every movement, every declaration of love, every feeling as Magnus moved above him. 

They were both breathing heavily now and Alec used his free hand to dig his nails into Magnus’s back.

Magnus and Alec collided for the last time, the flames erupting into the most magnificent fire, burning at the hottest and brightest it had ever been. And then the fire slowly simmered into flames and then to sparks and then to ashes. 

“I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you,” Alec panted.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out,” Magnus replied, equally as out of breath. 

Alec thought to himself that that was fine by him because this moment, here with Magnus, was all he’d ever need.

obbsessedturtle  asked:

Quidnunc ❤️

One who always has to know what is going on.

[i’m just running under the assumption that this is for MegaRox, I think that’s fair, yes? :P I hope you like it!!!]

“So, that dial adjusts the frequency, then?”

Megamind banged his head on the access panel door coming up. He swung himself around to face Roxanne, who was staring at him with curiosity and an edge of amusement despite being tied to her usual chair with his newest Device of Evil aimed at (a spot just to the left of) her. He rubbed the imminent bruise on his head and griped, “What in Tesla’s name are you doing awake?”

“Am I right? I know it’s the frequency. And the wavelength’s gotta be that slider on the left,” she said, craning her neck to see the guts of the machine behind him. “Sound beam.” She grinned. “That’s a new one. I never get to see the insides of your things before they get destroyed.”

“How did you fig-” he paused, as the look on her face finally sank in. He was used to her fearlessness, but she actually looked enthusiastic. He fidgeted with the edge of his cape, watching her warily. “I’m making some…. last minute adjustments,” he said after a long moment. “Do you- I mean. You seem to have some idea what- how it- anyway. Would you, that is to- would you like a closer look?”

Her expression opened in shock at the offer, then bloomed into a smile, and Megamind’s stomach did a neat little flip.

It only took a moment to get her out of her bindings. Wrist deep in gadgetry and wiring, Megamind explained the function of each piece of the machine, mouth moving automatically as he tried not to hyperventilate thinking about her proximity, the way her shoulder was bumping against his and she didn’t seem to care, the light scent of vanilla and clary sage from her hair, how intently she was following along, not missing a beat, asking questions and, after a pause, suggesting possible improvements to his amplifiers. Workable, brilliant possible improvements.

“I’m no expert, I just worked sound in theater club,” she said, laughing at his stunned response, “plus I was in a band in college. So what does that glowy coil do?”

Twenty minutes had passed unnoticed by the time Minion came in, already scowling even before he saw that Miss Ritchi was out of her chair. He narrowed his eyes at the pair of borrowed gloves on Roxanne’s hands, at the streak of grease along her cheek, at Megamind’s bewildered expression. He sighed. “We aren’t calling Metro Man today, are we, Sir?”

Roxanne blinked and looked up, only just now noticing their audience, and Megamind gave a sheepish smile.

Minion stared for another long moment, then turned back for the door. “I’ll just… go get some drinks, then.”

prompt 41 + bellarke for anonymous

i hope this is everything you wanted and more, anon! this is au bellarke, so if that’s not your thing, keep scrolling. also, this is so much longer than it was supposed to be and it has NOT been edited.

got a request? send it in. there’s a prompt list here, but if you have other ideas, send them. (the ships don’t all have to be malec. i love writing bellarke, clace, clalec BROTP never ever ever romantic, and pretty much anything shadowhunters/the 100). 

“I had a nightmare about you, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

If there was one thing Clarke Griffin hated more than anything, it was being rudely awakened in the middle of her precious sleep. Although, at this point she couldn’t really consider it precious seeing as she woke to find herself drooling on her notes from class. 

She didn’t want to admit it, but medical school was kicking her ass. 

“God, what time is it?” she groaned, dragging the sleeve of her sweater across her mouth. She looked to the clock above her TV and a feeling of relief washed over her. It was two-fifteen in the morning on a Saturday; she had plenty of time to crawl into her warm, comfy bed and sleep for hours. 

Clarke didn’t realize the knocking was what had woken her up in the first place until it came again, this time followed by a worried call of her name. She quickly got up from her chair at the kitchen table and padded over to the door, stopping to look at herself in a mirror. 

“Christ,” she muttered. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun, and messy was exactly the right word for it. Bits of hair were falling out everywhere and she had a halo of frizz. There were dark purple bags under her eyes and if she was being honest with herself, she looked like hell. 

She undid the locks on her door, wondering who the hell was outside of her apartment calling her name at this time. When she tiredly opened the door, she found her best friend, Bellamy Blake, staring at her with tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed out and stepped into the apartment. Clarke closed the door and followed him to the living area where he was standing in front of the glass coffee table with shaking legs.

“You, Bellamy Blake, have never been a religious person. Pray tell what you are thanking God for,” Clarke said as she walked to stand in front of him. “You must have found some way to get rid of Octavia’s boyfriend if you’re thanking the man upstairs for something.” 

Bellamy wiped at his eyes and looked down angrily at his best friend. “This isn’t a joke, Clarke!” 

Clarke flinched away from Bellamy, caught off guard by how loud his voice had gotten. 

His face softened quickly and he took a step toward Clarke, hand reaching out to rest on her arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice,” he said. “Come here.” Bellamy pulled Clarke into him, burying his face into her neck and finally letting himself relax against her. 

“Bell, seriously you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Clarke said, her voice slightly muffled by Bellamy’s shirt. Even though she was extremely worried about Bellamy, she took a minute to enjoy this moment with their bodies pressed together. She craved his touch constantly when she was around him and not in the he’s-my-best-friend way. But she could never tell if Bellamy felt the same, despite Raven and Octavia’s insistence that he was in love with her. 

Bellamy pulled away from Clarke and she tried to mask her disappointment with a look of friendly concern. 

“I had a nightmare about you, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.” His warm brown eyes were staring into her stormy grey ones. 

Clarke’s heart swelled in her chest. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t just picked up the phone and called. He really had to see for himself that she was all in one piece. “I’m fine. A little sleep deprived, maybe.” 

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said honestly. 

Clarke made an impulsive decision to raise her hand to rest on the side of Bellamy’s face. She wasn’t expecting him to close his eyes and lean into it. “So stay,” she whispered. 

Bellamy’s eyes opened slowly and he removed her hand from his face. He clasped both of her small hands tightly in his much larger ones. “Not just tonight, Clarke,” he whispered. 

Clarke was pretty sure her heart was about to beat right out of her chest. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and she thought she might be going slightly cross-eyed. He couldn’t possibly be going where she thought he was.

“I don’t want to leave you ever,” he concluded. Clarke was almost positive she was dead. Her mind went blank and her heart exploded. She moved her mouth as if she was trying to speak, but she had no words.

Bellamy suddenly looked a little panicked and he dropped Clarke’s hands quickly. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but-” 

It was now two-thirty in the morning, Clarke Griffin was exhausted and wide awake at the same time, and the boy she loved was apologizing for returning the feeling. She decided she’d take being forced out of her sleep if it meant she got to have Bellamy. 

Her body finally caught up with her mind and she suddenly found herself in Bellamy’s arms, her legs wrapped around his torso. He stumbled a little bit, but remained upright. “Fuck it,” she breathed and her lips collided with his. 

Clarke felt as Bellamy began to smile into the kiss, sliding his hands under her thighs to keep her from falling. He broke away for a second, eyes smiling. “There’s gotta be a more comfortable way to do this,” he said.

“I do have a bedroom, y’know,” Clarke said in a hushed tone. 

Bellamy could get to Clarke’s room with his eyes closed, he’d been in there so many times. He never thought in his wildest dreams he’d be able to go in there under these circumstances. 

They fumbled through the dark, finally collapsing onto the bed in a fit of giggles and kisses. Bellamy was suddenly very glad he’d had that nightmare. 

“Wait, so does this mean you like-like me?” Clarke laughed, a little breathless.

Bellamy’s smile widened. “I kind of love you,” he responded with a shrug.

“Well, I kind of love you, too,” Clarke whispered.

It was quiet for a moment, just the sound of their two hearts beating for each other. Clarke had a thought and couldn’t resist teasing Bellamy.

“So, you were thanking God for me, huh?” Clarke said, smirking up at the boy who had stolen her heart years ago. 

“I thank God for you every day, Clarke Griffin.”

unbridledliterature  asked:

Hey I'll take you up on it! 71 with Klaus and Caroline please? Thanks if you do :)

From this list

71-Obsession

“Niklaus, you have a problem.” Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to reign in his exasperation, but his younger brother paid him no mind.

“Oh don’t be a bore Elijah, Nik’s found himself a little crush!” said Kol cheerfully, who was more than happy to encourage Klaus’s infatuation if it meant more material to use against him later. “Besides, we all know that when he does work up the nerve to talk to her, she’ll realize he’s a bore and naturally take a liking to me.”

“Kol…” Elijah warned.

“And I’ll give you this; she is a tasty little thing.”

At Kol’s words, Klaus’s concentration was finally broken and he turned to little brother with a snarl, “Kol, either keep your mouth shut or I swear to god – ”

“Niklaus, can we please abstain from threats of bodily harm this early in the morning?” asked Elijah drily. “I haven’t finished my coffee.”

There was also the problem of too many witnesses, Klaus thought darkly, but to keep Kol quiet he wouldn’t mind giving the café a small scandal. A broken nose would get the point across. His irritation at his brother would have to take a backseat now as his eyes darted over to the clock on the far wall, watching the hand inch closer towards the nine.

“Have you ever considered that there’s something implicitly disturbing about your fascination with this young woman?” asked Elijah again, trying to make his brother see light.

“We frequent the same coffee house, Elijah, I’m hardly hiding in the bushes under her window.”

“How do you know there are bushes underneath her window?” asked Kol cheekily, earning another set of glares from both his brothers.

“Figure of speech you dolt,” muttered Klaus. He turned to Elijah to answer his earlier question, “There’s nothing wrong with appreciating beauty,” he said dismissively, “I don’t see why you’re so determined to see something sinister in this.”

“You come into this café every single day-“

“I like the coffee.”

“-for the sole purpose of seeing one girl whose name you don’t even know.”

“Caroline”, Klaus muttered, and now he did look a little shifty. “Her name is Caroline.”

Elijah’s eye twitched, just a little. “And how do you know her name if you’ve never spoken to her?”

“I overheard her tell the barista a few weeks ago.” Klaus’ jaw set stubbornly as he focused in on the clock again, 9 o’clock on the dot. A bell chimed and a breeze came in, accompanied by blonde curls and red heels, capturing Klaus’ attention completely.

“Told you she was tasty,” Kol muttered to Elijah but even his younger brother’s crass remarks didn’t distract him. Her eyes were trained on her phone, and Klaus’ stare followed her up to the counter where she smiled brightly at the teenager taking her order, starting up an easy conversation. She was bright and beautiful, he’d thought that the first time he’d seen her in the café weeks ago and a small part of him burned to have some of that light turned his way.

Still, he held off on approaching her. But this morning, fate (or, more accurately, his little shit of a brother) had other ideas.

“Oi, Caroline!”

***

“You’re weird, and you have a problem.” Katherine checked her lipstick, shutting her compact with a sharp click and turning to face her neurotic best friend in the driver’s seat, who was doing that irritating bouncing leg thing that only came up when Caroline was really nervous.

“I don’t have a problem, “Caroline insisted, stopping her leg, “I just like to stick to my schedule. If we get to work too early you know Jenna is going to stick us with more paperwork because we’re the only ones there.”

“I just pass on my stuff to April Young, she’ll do anything to make people happy” said Katherine happily, ignoring Caroline’s disapproval. “Why don’t you just admit that you’re rearranging your morning schedule around a guy.”

“I am not one of those weird stalker people,” said Caroline persistently. “I just want to make sure I get my coffee at the right time so that by the time I get into work the correct amount of caffeine has – ”

“Blah, blah, blah,” interrupted Katherine, “you need to go in at the right time to make sure that hot piece of ass you’ve been stalking for a month is there.”

“Katherine!” said Caroline, “I’m not stalking anybody!”

“You get your coffee every day at nine on the dot because you’re hoping to see a guy you don’t even know-“

“I know a little!”

Katherine rolled her eyes, “Alright you little weirdo, what do you know?”

Caroline chewed her lip, thinking over every little detail she had catalogued. “Well, he has to have a good job because he’s usually in suits. Sometimes he’s with this guy and I think it’s his brother but I’m not sure. He might do something with paint because every now and then he has these splotches on his hands – “

“So you watch his hands?”

Kat! Anyway, he takes his coffee black and his name is Klaus.”

That last little factoid had Katherine narrowing her eyes and leaning away from her friend ever so slightly. “How the hell did you find out his name?” she asked.

Caroline squirmed in her seat. “I came in once when he was leaving and saw the name on the cup he left behind.”

“Oh my god, I’m actually scared for this guy.”

Caroline huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. “I see him every morning when I go in for coffee, I’m not about to follow him back to England.”

“How do you know he’s from England?” asked Katherine shrewdly.

“He has an accent, Kat, I overheard him talking to a barista. Look, I’m not going to do anything stupid, it’s just a crush.”

“A crush on a hot guy is where it starts,” said Katherine in a sing-song voice, “when you’re in jail and I’m on the news, I’ll tell them you had great taste in shoes.”

Nothing is going to happen!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen today if you miss your little appointment.” Katherine nodded towards the dashboard clock which read nine, and Caroline was up and out of the car in a second, ignoring Katherine’s laughter.

She glimpsed him through the large glass windows; Klaus was with two guys today. The younger one she’d seen before, but the older one was new and the last thing Caroline needed was for anyone clueing him in to the crazy lady staring. Her phone provided a good enough cover as she pushed open the door, and she kept her focus on the counter, going straight up to Dana and ordering her usual.

“Oi, Caroline!”

She stiffened, recognizing the accent and the direction from which the call had come. Spinning slowly on her heel, Caroline was met with the sight of Klaus’ table staring at her. The younger guy was grinning like a serial killer, the older one was completely passive, and Klaus – Klaus just looked shell-shocked.

Oh god, this is where he finds out I’m a crazy stalker-

But whatever she expected, it wasn’t for Klaus to get over his shock and stand quickly, but not before glaring at his brother with pure murder. He strode over and for the first time, Caroline was able to appreciate how great he looked in that suit.

(If she concentrated, she could hear Katherine’s voice in her head saying that if he looked just as good underneath the suit, then she had hit the jackpot.)

“I’m sorry about him, love,” Klaus said, ducking his head smiling sheepishly. Caroline couldn’t help but notice his dimples and his eyes which she had never been able to admire from her quick glances.

“It’s fine,” she insisted, waving off his chagrin. “He seems a little…” Caroline trailed off, not sure how to describe the guy who was flashing her a thumbs up behind Klaus’ back, but Klaus supplied the words.

“Kol’s a prat, ignore him,” he said, gently taking her elbow and steering her to a table. His hands were large (Kat’s evil laughter rang in her head) and warm, and Caroline bit her lip to keep her excitement at bay. There was no way she was letting on how much of a weirdo with a crush she actually was.

“How did he know my name?”

“Oh, I think he just overheard the barista talking to you,” said Klaus with a shrug. “My brother tends to lose his head around beautiful women, no impulse control to speak of.”

“So he is your brother!” Caroline said before she could stop herself, rushing to cover up her slip. “I just meant – I noticed you guys had the same accent – not too many English people around this neighbourhood right?”

Klaus chuckled at her rambling, and Caroline joined in, gratefully accepting the latte Dana brought over to her table. The distraction let her reflect on what he’d called her – beautiful – and she wondered if maybe her little crush couldn’t become something more.

“So, do you come in here often?” she asked, hoping to sound casual.

“Every now and then,” said Klaus, hoping she didn’t see through his lie. “You?”

“Pretty much daily, I work around the corner,” Caroline explained, glancing over to the clock on the wall, which was not kind to her. “I should probably get going before I’m late, actually” she said regretfully.

Klaus’ face fell; he didn’t want to go back to watching her from afar. He’d heard her voice, her laugh, and he was hooked. “At least take this, please.”  He fumbled through his suit pocket, pulling out a business card and pushing it towards her.

Klaus Mikaelson, Attorney at Law, read the thick cardstock, explaining the need for suits. Caroline’s heart jumped as she took it with a smile. “Giving your number to random women in coffee shops?” she asked teasingly, trying to hide how over-excited she was.

“It’s up to you love,” he said with a smirk. “But I for one do hope you’ll call.  Take a chance – I dare you.”

Caroline shot another glance at the clock, looked back at Klaus and decided to follow his suggestion. “You know…a few more minutes wouldn’t kill me. To get to know you, I mean, before I decide anything.”

If Klaus’ elated face was anything to go by, she’d made the right decision. “What do you want to know?”

“Have any hobbies….like, I don’t know, art?”

If possible, Klaus’s grin was even wider. “Funny you should ask sweetheart…”

He launched into a story about how he came into painting and Caroline listened intently, drawn in by his words and voice. His brothers were staring at them but it was hard to focus on anyone else, and she knew that she’d owe Jenna a stack of extra paperwork later but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to regret a thing.

(She’d regret it later when she realized she left Katherine in the car.)

49 + malec (post downworlder meeting 2x19)

“Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” for @rowanstroian … i wrote this in 10 minutes please forgive me. also sorry i had to write alec getting to express his anger bc he needed that.

got a request? send it in. there’s a prompt list here, but if you have other ideas, send them. (the ships don’t all have to be malec. i love writing bellarke, clace, clalec BROTP never ever ever romantic, and pretty much anything shadowhunters/the 100).

you may find part 2 here

Alec stood and watched as Magnus exited the room with the Seelie Queen and her loyal followers. He could feel his blood starting to boil over the events that had just taken place. 

He felt a hand on his arm and looked to find Jace standing next to him with a solemn expression. “I’m sorry, man,” Jace said.

Me too, Alec thought. Something clicked in him right at that moment and he surged forward, storming out of the room. 

“Oh, no. Alec, don’t!” he heard Isabelle say behind him, but he was too pissed off to listen to his sister’s warning. 

“Magnus!” he yelled and watched as the queen, her followers, and Magnus turned around. 

Magnus looked to the queen, asking for permission. “It’s alright, you may speak to him. Just do it quickly, we do not have all day,” she said and Alec couldn’t ignore the evil glint in her eye. He glared at her before turning his attention back to Magnus, who now stood in front of him. 

“What are you doing?” Alec hissed through his teeth. “What the hell was that in there?” 

Magnus responded simply by staring at Alec, the same way he had done only moments before. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alec laughed dryly. 

“Tell him, Magnus. Tell him there is nothing left for him with you,” the queen spoke suddenly. 

Alec sighed deeply before speaking. “Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” 

Magnus visibly flinched at Alec’s words, but stayed silent otherwise. He felt as if every inch of his heart was shattering into a million pieces, but Alec couldn’t know. He just couldn’t

Alec took a step closer to Magnus. Then another. They were so close now, Magnus could see the specks of green in Alec’s hazel eyes. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?” Alec asked. When Magnus responded yet again with silence, Alec finally lost whatever grip he’d had over the past few days. “You know what, Magnus? You’re a hypocrite. You’re a hypocrite and I regret ever falling in love with you.” 

“Oh, Alec,” he heard Isabelle breathe out. Alec turned and became faintly aware of the small crowd that had gathered and was watching the interaction. He heard Clary suck in a breath and Jace whistle under his. Luke muttered a “damn” and the Seelie Queen? She was smiling

“You don’t mean that,” Magnus said, finally. 

“Look at that!” Alec exclaimed. “He speaks!” 

Alec knew this was not how the Head of the Institute should be acting in front of the Downworld Council and in front of the people he was supposed to be leading, but he couldn’t help it. The hurt was just too much. 

“Alexander-” Magnus started.

Alec spun on his heel to face Magnus again. “You do not get to call me that! You lost that right! That is reserved for friends and family only. It’s Alec to you.” 

Magnus opened his mouth, but no words would come out. His eyes were burning and it took everything in him not to cry. He could not show his weakness in front of the queen or everything would be ruined. He just hoped Alec would forgive him one day. 

“That’s it. Show’s over,” Alec said to everyone and shouldered through the crowd of people, ignoring Isabelle’s cries for him to stop. He wouldn’t stop, not now. 

Now he had a war to win. 

anonymous asked:

sorry if i'm causing unnecessary drama or somethign and you don't have to answer but i was wondering since you're so passionate about the les amis not being white how you felt about them being racially typecasted? like combeferre and joly are indian and asian because they're doctors and there's that stereotype about indians and asians and like bahorel always being big and black and feuilly being angry or whatever

i am supposed to be studying for an astronomy test tomorrow morning but i feel like this is something that needs to be addressed and i know you’re referencing what mary catherine has been blogging about hence the ‘unnecessary drama’ bit but yeah let’s talk about this sure 

first of all, to address my personal facecasts: i like Sidharth Malhotra for combeferre because he feels like a combeferre to me. I also really really like Elliot Knight for combeferre, but i didn’t make a fancast of a black combeferre because i think that’s been done enough and wanted to explore some other options and i haven’t found, say, a latino or native american actor who i think fits combeferre yet. second, Mario Maurer as joly: i literally just saw a picture of him one day and was like ‘this human is actual sunshine and a giant dork what a joly type of human’ and that was literally it that’s how he became my joly i didn’t look for another actor because he was just so perfect and goofy and smiley but if it really means that much to you i can find another joly in fact i adore the idea of a hispanic joly but i wanted a diverse cast and i had a lot of latin@s already

also ??? is combeferre canonically a doctor?? i think he’s just well-read correct me if i’m wrong but that’s not really the point just nitpicking here

and while we’re talking about people who don’t need to be black let’s talk about bossuet please??? because i don’t know who thought poor+unlucky+bald=black5eva but like i don’t think i have ever seen a non-black bossuet and that’s part of the reason i made a facecast of manny montana as bossuet to try to change things up a little

and i can’t believe i’m even saying this but you know honestly as long as we aren’t sticking with the Whitebread Revolutionaries Except Bossuet Our Token Black Comic Relief I am fucking jumping for joy 

[i completely 100% agree with mary catherine about feuilly, by the way, i’m gonna need a  Very Good Reason if you’re going to make him angry and violent this man adopted the world he’s not like bahorel who is itching to fight and i know i’ve been guilty of this characterization but feuilly and bahorel are separate and unique and just because bahorel loves a good fight doesn’t mean feuilly has to]

and while we are on the subject why do i never see native american amis? native americans who are furious about the treatment of their culture, who educate people about how different tribes mean different things, who speak about the problems of reservations and force people to listen? just saying, might consider it

anyway back to your original point which seems like you’re trying to get me into a fight with my friend??? but i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume you’re genuinely curious

here’s the thing. bahorel can be portrayed as black and combeferre can be indian/middle eastern and joly can be asian and that’s totally fine. a bit overdone, i will admit, but there’s no issue with that, unless that’s all they ever are. if you try to argue that they couldn’t be another race because blah blah blah, or can’t ever see them as another race because you’re so set in them being a certain way because of their characteristics, that’s really not okay. they’re fictional and their story is from the 19th century, so we can take any liberties we damn well choose, and make them any race we want

so yeah, let’s branch out, i’m game, i’ve been dying for this opportunity

i want cuban bahorel who dances on the streets and sends care packages home to his mom and learned to pick fights against racist kids who called him a boat-rower, or worse. how about a marius whose mother was from the kiowa tribe and becomes interested in languages because the language of his tribe is going extinct? i want a mexican joly who learned how to take care of his siblings because his parents worked so often and were home so infrequently just so they could put food on the table and cooks empanadas that will make your heart sing. give me a pakistani jehan or a romani cosette or a haitian eponine or a thai bossuet, but don’t make them one dimensional.

i know mary catherine has touched on this but to reiterate, don’t just make a character a certain race so you can pat yourself on the back for being diverse. give them culture, background, history. give them beliefs and traditions and interests from their cultural background, let a bit of native language slip into their dialogue, do some research and learn amazing and fascinating things about different cultures (feuilly will be proud of you for it i promise)

anyway the aforementioned test is calling me and i hope i phrased this right everyone’s free to argue or unfollow or whatever but all i gotta say is you should aim to have no more than three all-white amis at a time. three is the absolute maximum. i’m being generous here.

skittles au - camping

It was supposed to be a pack thing. One big bonding experience, before they split off for college and stopped living out of each other’s pockets. But then Lydia’s dad took her to Europe, and Isaac got a job, and Kira’s parents were angling for some family time, so it turned into a ScottandStiles thing. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE A FULL LENGTH CEDRIC IMAGINE NOT A PHOTO AND TEXT LIKE A LONG ONE THANKS ITS NOT THAT HARD

An imagine is the text banner + gif. If you want writing, that’s a one shot. You’re welcome to come back and ask for a one shot when requests are open, as long as you provide a plot/prompt and don’t try to belittle us in the same message.

Also, writing:

-Kerrie

frank-kastle  asked:

UGHHHH ELLE I IMAGINED IT AND NOW I NEED A DRABBLE OUT OF LAZY WHITE-TSHIRT DAY *cries*

You know, I did tell you not to. But I thought you’d enjoy this ;) 

Based on the tags on this post

“You know at some point, we’re going to have to move.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, sinking even further into their California King bed, and tightening the arm curled under Caroline. Despite her words, she made absolutely no move to get up, and he offered only a lazy hum, keeping his eyes on the worn paperback in his hands.

“You say that love, but I doubt either of us is going anywhere anytime soon.” He glanced down to see her burrow even further into his side, further proving his point.

“The city isn’t going to run itself,” she argued half-heartedly, voice muffled.

Maybe she had a point, but Klaus reasoned that New Orleans wasn’t going to fall apart in a day, definitely not this day. Not when the sun was high, the air was humid and even though the French doors to their balcony were thrown wide open, it was warm and still and utterly impossible for anyone to muster up the energy to do anything of note.

They’d tried, to be fair. After they’d had their fill of each other, lips and tongues dragging over flushed skin, they’d gotten up, gotten so far as to thrown on the most casual clothes either of them owned with the intent of at least leaving their room. But an old book on Caroline’s nightstand had caught Klaus’ eye and he was back on the bed, only for Caroline to join to him after putting up the bare minimum of a fight.

Sure, she should probably get back to the caterers for their anniversary ball, but compulsion was always a good last minute option, and it was hard to deny just how hot her husband looked, even if it was just in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was still the mess she’d made it when she’d woken up to find his tongue moving sinfully between her thighs and she’d run her fingers through those soft, wonderful curls of his, keeping him there until he’d brought her over the edge at least twice.

(He’d paid her back in kind – but no one pulled off sex hair like Caroline Forbes-Mikaelson.)

A yawn pulled Klaus’s attention back to his lethargic wife who had managed to extract herself marginally from his hold so that she could prop her chin on his chest and look up at him through her eyelashes.

“When’s the last time we’ve ever had a day like this?”

“We’ve had plenty of days to ourselves, sweetheart,” Klaus murmured fondly, bending down to press his lips to her temple. “There was Prague-“

“We were chasing down that witch.”

“Last month, you dragged us to that bed and breakfast in South Carolina.”

“And the reason we were in South Carolina was because of that wolf problem,” said Caroline pointedly. “Admit it – it’s been ages.”

Klaus smirked and let her have her point, his mind wandering to the two plane tickets which were sitting at the bottom of his closet, wrapped and ready to be presented next week at the end of what would almost definitely be the best party New Orleans had seen all year. They promised a month of days like this, days where it was just him and her and the rest of the world could burn for all he cared. He almost wanted to tell her – he almost did – but he knew his wife, and he knew that anniversaries were sacred to her.

Still, it didn’t mean they couldn’t make the most of this lazy day.

“Something’s occurred to me love,” he announced, letting the book slip to the floor as he maneuvered himself until he was looming over her.

“What’s that?”

“If we’re just going to lie in bed all day, there was never much of a point to getting dressed at all, was there?”

The lethargy gives way to anticipation as Klaus pushed the white cotton t shirt up, and Caroline sunk into the comfort of the bed and his talented fingers.

“So what did you have in mind?”

anonymous asked:

"As he stared at the mermaid below him, Feuilly wondered if maybe he should have taken Combeferre's advice and vacationed in the mountains instead"

“Look,” The mermaid (merman? merbeing? He didn’t want to assume they all fell under the same category) said, tail flicking out of the water in a way that somehow felt irritated. “We’re not like golden fish, we don’t really do the whole wish-granting. Thing.”

Feuilly shook his head. “That’s really not necessary, I’m just happy to help, um…” He let his voice trail off, not knowing what to call this being of legend he somehow managed to both capture and then set free.

“Oh.” The merbeing straightened proudly, before bowing slightly. “I’m Bahorel, last of the line of Bahorel, of the Moorish Idol Serea.”

Fascinating. Feuilly, feeling slightly incompetent as a human who had no idea what his lineage was, responded, “I’m Feuilly. I, uh- I don’t have any titles. Or family. My friend is an Enjolras, though, and they’re serious old money.”

Bahorel looked confused, but they said simply, “Well, Feuilly, according to the laws of my people, book… four? Sub section, um- nine, probably, I owe you a debt. I think. Or I’m supposed to drag you underwater and feast on your sweet human flesh, but I kinda have a policy against killing hot people in cute sweaters.” They wiggled their eyebrows, and Feuilly tried not to show how shocked he was.

“Um- you-” He stammered, before saying, “Uh- you are not what I was expecting.”

Bahorel shrugged. “Neither are you. I expected a lot less apologizing and a lot more screaming and running to tell the media. We get that a lot.”

“Right.” He nodded, slowly, and took a moment to examine Bahorel. Their hair was shiny and pulled back, speckled with sand and with strands of seaweed woven into dark braids. They had a strong, defined jaw and a mischievous glint to their eyes, and a smirk that pulled at soft, pink lips. Fuck it, he thought, in a numb, dazed, sort of way, might as well add inconvenient attraction to a mythical creature to the things that have gone wrong on this vacation.

anonymous asked:

70. Klaus and Caroline

From this list 

70- 67% (Set around 4x06/4x07)

“I’m not exaggerating Elena, he hates me!”  Caroline picked up her pace, scattering people in her way as she marched down Main Street. Anyone who had lived in Mystic Falls long enough had some idea who Caroline Forbes was, and the smart ones knew that when she had that look on her face, it was probably best to stay out of her way.

Caroline, Mr. Gateman doesn’t hate you, he’s just tough, we’ve known that since the ninth grade.”

“Yeah, but we never had to actually deal with him, and I’m telling you, he hates me!”  Sitting down on one of the benches outside the Grill, she pulled out her the midterm report card she’d received earlier that day, staring at the small printed ‘67%’ that was mocking her.

Look, Care, you know there’s always the option of compelling a better grade.”

Caroline stuttered indignantly, “No way! I’ve never had to compel a grade and I’m not going to let that jackass win!”

I don’t really think-“

“I’m doing an extra-credit assignment and it has to be amazing, any ideas?”

Elena sighed heavily on the other side on the line, “I’ve got nothing Care. Look, I have to meet up with Damon, I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Sure, talk later,” said Caroline glumly, hanging up and stuffing her phone in her purse. The report card weighed heavily in her hand, still irritating.

“Now sweetheart, what’s got you in such low spirits?”

Caroline jumped, instinctively pressing against the far end of the bench, startled by the sudden appearance of the Original Hybrid himself who was now sitting one foot away and doing that annoying smirking thing that he did whenever he knew he’d managed to fluster her.

“Oh my god, you creep, where did you come from?” she asked, taking care to maintain her distance.

“Now love, no need to be hostile. I was simply passing by, noticed you sitting all alone, and I thought I’d say ‘hello’.” He modeled his face into the picture of innocence, all wide eyes and dimples and Caroline slowly felt herself relaxing despite every ounce of her better judgment telling her to just get up and walk away.

“Well, you said ‘hi’, now I’m saying ‘bye’,” she said with a little wave and was ready to leave before his voice stopped her again.

“So, which class is this that’s giving you such a hard time?”

Caroline huffed, “Just how long were you eavesdropping for?”

“Long enough,” he said cheerfully, “I have to say I agree with the doppelganger for once, some simple compulsion would probably answer all of your problems.”

His words riled her up and all thoughts of leaving flew out the window. “Not a chance!” she growled out. “I’m on four different city committees, chairing three clubs at schools, I got turned into a vampire, had to deal with werewolves and hunters and your family, I’m Miss Mystic Falls and throughout it all I have managed to keep up a 3.8 GPA, I’m one of the prime candidates for valedictorian and I am not going to compel myself a grade when I’m this close to graduation!”

She put up her thumb and forefinger to prove her point, nearly pinching them together and held it about a centimeter from Klaus’ nose. For once, he looked like he was at a loss for words, although she got the distinct impression he was trying his absolute hardest not to laugh.

Car-o-line,” he drawled, gently taking her wrist and pulling it down, “Perhaps you should…relax?”

It was hard to ignore the warm press of his fingers on her pulse point, but she gulped down a quick breath. “No relaxing for me,” she said determinedly, “I’ve got work to do.”

With that she was ready to leave but his fingers tugged on her wrist ever so slightly. She raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was seriously going to try and restrain her, but he showed no malice, only genuine curiosity. “You still haven’t said which class was giving you so much trouble,” he said, his words practically dripping in charm.

Caroline fidgeted where she sat for a moment before finally giving in. “It’s…art,” she admitted, already regretting her decision, when his face split into a wide grin.

“Art?” he repeated, just to make sure.

“Art. Don’t look at me like that!” she said defensively when he raised his eyebrows skeptically. “It was just supposed to be a fun elective for my senior year, how was I supposed to know my teacher would have it in for me?! Apparently I lack a proper ‘vision’ what the hell does that even mean?!”  

Klaus chuckled, licking his lips at the opportunity that had presented itself. “Now Caroline,” he began, “I have to say I’m a little hurt that you never considered bringing this little conundrum of yours to me.”

“Why, so you can tell me to eat my Art teacher?” she deadpanned, but Klaus continued on.

“As someone who has spent over a millennium honing his skills, it would be a privilege to give you a few pointers,” he leaned closer, letting the arm he had rested on the back of the bench to reach out and brush the skin exposed at her shoulder.

Caroline fought to keep her composure, even when his fingers caused goosebumps to rise on her arm. She was still very aware of his hand around her wrist and the way his eyes were boring into her. But playing the little blonde distraction and bribing dates for spare hybrids was one thing, willing spending time with him for something completely unrelated to the supernatural was another matter entirely.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she managed to say, admittedly a little lamely. Klaus’ brow furrowed but he remained undeterred.

“Come on sweetheart, take the chance,” he cajoled. “You said it yourself, you’ve got a lot on your plate and I’d hate to see you falter now when you’re so close to the finish line.”

“I seriously doubt you could help me,” Caroline muttered, but he simply smirked wider and scooted closer.

“What’s the assignment?

“I have to paint a still-life of something that represents my idea of beauty,” she confessed, and wow, he was going to hurt himself if he smiled any wider.

Klaus sent up a silent thanks to whatever Gods may have been listening. “You’re in luck, Caroline, because if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s recognize true beauty.” The hand at her shoulder turned so that he could drag his knuckles down the length of her arm, and he relished the feeling of silky smooth skin. She was silent again and he took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her – his boast about his skills was no exaggeration and Caroline Forbes was truly exquisite to his eye.

For her part, Caroline was trying very, very hard to actually say something and not just stare at him like an idiot. So what if his touch was starting to short circuit her brain, there was still the fact that they were having this conversation in the middle of the day, in the middle of the town square and somebody was bound to notice very quickly.

“You know, I’m starting to think you compelled my art teacher to give me a low grade just so you could use that pick-up line,” she said finally, albeit not as confident as she would’ve liked.

Klaus just laughed, it was rare to see him so carefree. Caroline weighed her options carefully: she could brush him off and he’d probably sulk about it (and possibly hurt someone), or she could take him up on his offer, probably do great on her assignment, and end up valedictorian liked she’d been dreaming for the past four years.

She told herself that if any of her friends asked, she’d tell them she was just keeping an eye on Klaus and didn’t dwell too much on how much of a lie that was. “Alright,” she said finally, “You have a deal.”

With that, she stood and Klaus rose with her, grinning like a kid in a candy store. “Shall I see you tomorrow? Your house?”

Caroline winced at the thought of her mom finding out the town’s big bad was giving her art lessons. “Probably not the best place, I’ll come over to you,” she said, before she could talk herself out of it. “I better end up valedictorian after this!”

Klaus just lifted her hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of her knuckles before sauntering away, “I can’t wait to hear your speech love!” he called over his shoulder.

Caroline just scoffed. “Please, like I’d ever invite you to my graduation.”