Guyssss I am super excited (and very much nervous) to share this with you all!! I know I haven’t posted anything in a very long time and I am sorry for that, witer’s block hit me heavy last month due to finals… This will most likely be in multiple parts as there is a lot on my mind about this whole thing lol. Also this is a prince!Harry AU and I am not going to pretend I know everything about the royal government, so if I get things wrong I do apologize!! I hope you all enjoy pals (: -M xx.
The offer happened the third time you encountered him.
Ironically, the first encounter was something you wish you avoided. At the time, you were only introduced to half of the royal family you were working for (which of course, made sense; as a family as important as them, most of them don’t have time to waste meeting new employees). Being able to call yourself an assistant to the royal family was an accomplishment to you, so all you wanted to do was make a great impression.
However, when you held a regrettable amount of coffee in a paper cup that was just a little too hot; and with your nerves jittering at your fingertips and toes, all hope of making a good impression was lost as you unintentionally tripped over your own feet–resulting with your face almost hitting the marble floor and the coffee staining a very expensive shirt.
There was quietness once you hit the floor, as when you looked up to see that your coffee spilt on in fact, the prince, which soon made you go into a silent panic. He shook his arms as the liquid began to turn his skin red from its temperature; his eyebrows crinkled as if he was trying to figure out what just happened before his green eyes traveled to your frozen face.
🌻 imagine dan as the boy with anxiety , the boy obsessed with the stars and reading mystery novels, the nervous seeming boy who always shakes and stutters and avoids eye contact and phil as the popular boy who doesn’t even try to be liked, who has girls and boys alike throwing themselves at his feet. and he falls in love. with dan howell.
🌻 phil hating his glasses, not wanting to wear them but they’re the only way he can see, and he tells dan. dan just frowns with a “well let’s see” and takes phil’s glasses off, tilting his head to the side and he smiles softly. when phil asks what, why is he smiling, dan just smiles harder, putting his glasses back on. “i think i like it better like this. you look more like the phil i fell in love with.”
🌻 dan getting slightly (*very) tipsy while out with his friends at a bar, and he sings halo at the top of his lungs; it starts with humming and light tapping of his fingers before his friends start encouraging him , and soon he’s on the fucking piano, spinning around and around and singing (and if they’re honest it doesn’t sound half bad) before he starts to fall ; cue bartender phil rushing forward and catching him bridal style. dan giggles, his face tinted pink and blowing away the soft curls falling in his face. “can i have another drink pweasee?” phil chuckles. “i think you’ve had enough, love.”
🌻 phil befriending his best friend’s younger brother who’s always shunned by him; inviting him to hang out with them and soon enough just him, pulled in by dan’s sweet squishy face and his dimples and the way dan’s eyes twinkle when phil makes him laugh. one day dan’s being very reserved when they’re sitting on phil’s roof; he keeps biting his lip and pulling his sleeves over his hands and avoiding phil’s eyes, so phil asks what’s wrong. dan looks up, blushing like hell, holding his hands to his mouth like a chipmunk, his eyes wide. “i think i’ve fallen in love with you, philly.” his bottom lip trembles he lets his face fall into his hands. “i’m sorry, please don’t hate me.” phil grins, touching his arm. “hey,” he says gently, offering him a smile. “don’t worry. i think i’m falling in love too. so…” he takes dan’s hand, intertwining their fingers, and dan stares at their hands. “so we’ll fall together. okay?”
🌻 phil using pick up lines on dan all day, every time he walks into the room. “are you a magician? because when i look at you everyone else disappears.” “hey, dan? tie your shoes. i wouldn’t want you falling for anyone else.” and every time phil says one he gets this look on his face, his eyes lighting up and an excited grin stretching across his face, and dan can feel himself melting more and more every time but he just rolls his eyes until, finally , after phil compares his face to the night sky he blurts it out; “fuck you, phil, i’m fucking in love with you,” and leaves the room, leaving phil with his mouth dropped open.
Pairing is Pharah/Mercy, set in some ambiguous modern AU.
“Don’t look now, love,” Lena said, nodding over to the doorway. “But I think the vampire’s emerged from her cave.”
Confused, Fareeha followed Lena’s gaze to see their roommate hovering near the entrance of the Palazzo. Amélie was the last person she expected to see at the bar, even if it was Pride weekend. She looked just a little uncomfortable, scanning the room with her arms tightly crossed.
Leaning as far back in her stool as she could go without falling off, Fareeha yelled across the bar for her roommate’s attention. “Hey! Amélie! Over here!” She had her experience dealing with more than a few rowdy crowds, and Fareeha developed an earbreaking whistle just for the occasion. It pierced right through all the noise.
Amélie twitched at the familiar call. Rolling her eyes before she even spotted the pair, Amélie set her shoulders straight and searched until they met eyes. Fareeha grinned, lifting up her beer in a salute.
Reluctantly, like a cat slinking into view, Amélie wove through the crowd to join them.
"Whatcha doin’ here?” Lena wanted to know. “I thought you said you were going to stay in tonight, neighbor.”
Restaurant Dates Are The Worst (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)
A/N: This is an adaptation of the Sebastian Stan version of RDATW (a very faithful adaptation, almost word for word except it’s written in third person and ot second). It’s for a dear friend of mine (me heartie @bathshebaa who has the hots for Tom Hiddleston *wink* *wink*)
around her, scrutinizing the surroundings, letting her eyes wander on
the walls, the chandeliers, the dark-red faux velvet chairs next to
the bar section of the restaurant – she looked anywhere but at the
man sitting across from her, ungracefully shoving his spaghetti into
his mouth all the while twaddling.
Pre-Sanvers: Maggie Walks in on Alex with Another Woman
It had been hard.
The whole being friends thing.
Hard because Alex’s eyes were stone when they weren’t flickering down to Maggie’s lips, and hard because it kept tearing open Maggie’s heart that Alex didn’t realize that of course she wanted her – of course she did – but she was trying to do what’s best for her. What’s best for Alex.
She was trying to put Alex first. She was trying to protect Alex .
From falling for a girl who didn’t deserve her, who would only break her.
And she was trying to protect herself.
Because she’d fall hard and she’d fall fast – hell, she already has – and then one day she would stop being so bright and shiny to Alex, and Alex would ditch her for some other woman, some more deserving woman, or women, and Maggie has been broken before, but she can’t be broken by Alex Danvers.
Because somehow she already knows that there isn’t enough scotch and tiramisu in the world to fix being broken by Alex Danvers.
So it had been hard.
The business of figuring out how to just be friends.
It had been hard, but Maggie told her she didn’t want to imagine her life without her, and Alex didn’t want to imagine that world, either.
So it was pool the next night and it was pool the night after, and it was late-night poring over case files and it was early-morning breakfast at Noonan’s and it was, eventually, laughter and banter and real, solid friendship.
And it was, eventually, Alex dating other women.
Because Maggie gave up on her before they even began, didn’t she?
Because Maggie had no right or reason to object, did she?
And it was hard.
Hell, it was torture.
Watching Alex get nervous about what to wear, what to say, where to go.
Listening to Alex’s recaps, watching Alex blush.
It was torture, but Alex didn’t know.
Didn’t know, because somehow, the secret agent had missed the one thing that Maggie always assumed screamed off of her body: that she wanted Alex. No, more than wanted her. Respected her. Revered her. Liked her. Cared about her. A lot. Could love her. For her whole life.
It was torture, but Alex didn’t know.
Or at least, Maggie thought Alex didn’t know. She wondered sometimes, in her more confident moments – in the moments where she could swear Alex’s eyes were drifting down to fixate on Maggie’s lips; in the moments where she could swear Alex’s breath hitched when Maggie touched her arm while they played pool; in the moments where she could swear Alex tensed up every time Maggie so much as greeted Darla – if Alex did know.
What she was doing to Maggie.
Because she never brought dates to the bar.
Never brought dates in front of Maggie.
So when Maggie is having yet another night drinking alone at the bar, she’s not cautious about who she’ll run into, about what she’ll see, when she pushes open the multistall bathroom door.
She expects quiet.
She doesn’t expect Alex.
Alex, pinned against the space between two stalls, her head tossed back against the cold metal, her breathing ragged, her back arched.
With some blonde woman’s hand up her shirt and lips on her throat.
Maggie contemplates leaving.
She contemplates leaving and she contemplates screaming and she contemplates throwing up in the alley before getting on her Triumph and riding away, away, away.
She contemplates it, but Alex chooses exactly that moment to open her eyes – to glance down – and her eyes lock into Maggie’s.
And Maggie’s seething anger rides the wave of how perversely turned on she is, and her mouth speaks before her brain can think.
“Don’t you think the lady deserves something better than a quick fuck in a bathroom stall?”
Her mouth speaks before her brain can think, which makes her voice more raw, more vulnerable, more hurt, than enraged or indignant or even jealous.
She wants to run, now.
But the woman is whipping around, her hand retreating from Alex’s chest, a combination of irritation and anger on her lips.
“Who the hell are you?” she demands, and Alex just leans against the metal of the stalls like it’s holding her up. Because it is.
“Maggie,” Alex says, and it’s almost a whisper, almost an apology, almost an explanation.
“I asked you something first,” Maggie counters, ignoring Alex’s prayer, spine straight and eyes anywhere but Alex’s mussed hair, swollen lips, rumpled shirt.
Realization dawns on the other woman’s face, and she smirks as she glances between the woman she was just fucking and the woman who’s demanding she give Alex better than a bar bathroom.
“So you’re the one she’s hung up on,” the woman says, and Alex groans softly, and Maggie blinks.
“This is your detective, isn’t it?” The woman smirks and doesn’t wait for an answer. “She talks about you a lot. Hell, I half-expected her to scream your name just now. I think you have your answer now, sweetheart,” she turns to Alex. She leans into her ear and she whispers hotly, “She likes you.”
She runs a slow fingertip down Alex’s side, gives Maggie a once-over, and saunters out of the bathroom with a small smirk on her face.
Alex splutters and Alex tries, desperately, to breathe.
“Why did she say that?”
“Say what, Danvers?”
“That you like me.”
“I dunno, you can always catch up to her and ask – “
“Was she right?”
“Danvers – “
“Was she right.”
There’s a silence, a pause, in which they both live entire lives, and Alex shifts off the stall, toward Maggie, eyes wide and lips parted and voice soft, soft, soft.
“Was she right, Maggie?”
“It doesn’t matter, Alex, I’d only wind up hurting you – “
“So she was right.”
“Take me on a date.”
“I don’t want to be dating these other women, Maggie. I mean, it’s been nice and it’s been… but I just… I wanna be dating you. I thought you didn’t want me, but if – “
“I told you, Alex. That was never why I…”
“So take me on a date.”
“Take you on a date.”
Alex takes her hands and smiles soft, smiles slow, smiles shy and smiles perfect.
“You said I deserve better than a quick fuck in a bathroom stall. So show me what I deserve.”
And Maggie can’t help it: she smiles, too, and the entire bar lights up.
It’s always morning after poems
Kids doing coke on bathroom counters.
It’s always cigarette smoke in my hair
Foreheads pressed to fogging car windows.
It’s always glazed and empty eyes
Have another drink
maybe just get high.
The car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and you have to walk 4 miles to the nearest town in the pouring rain.
All of you crowd into the tiny pub, a few vibrant locals scattered around, drowning themselves in cheap crystalline glasses filled with whiskey.
You’re all soaked to the skin, and the rain is still chucking down outside, droplets on the windows catching the warm glow from the light fixtures swinging precariously in their sockets. It reminds you of when you were five and you would spend evenings down the pub on your Mum’s knee, the smell of chips in your nostrils, the conversation and music in the background like a din in your ears, and all you wanted to was sleep.
Everything is cheaply upholstered, the corner booths done up in tartan fabrics and a scratchy carpet on the floor imbued with cigarette smoke and fraying at the edges, certain spots worn down by the feet of many patrons over the years, although you have no idea how many, considering this pub is at least an hour away from anywhere worth visiting.
You couldn’t manage to drag the car out here and Sirius refused to spend another night sleeping inside, since Remus just gave him a lengthy lecture on foot-and-mouth disease, and he’s yet to figure out that it’s not a real thing. Remus currently trying to make calls on his mobile while Sirius slams himself down at the bar and demands a whiskey straight, and Peter is attempting to dry his socks out by the open fire.
Everything is jaded and homely and kind of scraggy and undone, the warmth of the place a mixture of the coat hooks by the door and the ash sprinkled around the hearth like grave dust, soot stains on the carpet and worn brick walls, chipping tabletops and lacquered counter.
That’s when a girl comes out from the back, a black apron tied around her waist over a faded, red gingham dress, her hair in plaits and a smile slashed across her mouth like it’s written in blood. She vaults herself over the back of a bar and wrings a dirty dishtowel around the lip of a whiskey glass, propelling it across the lacquered bartop to Sirius, hoisting the whiskey off a shelf behind the bar and pouring him his drink.
Almost every house has a tiny garden. Whether they’re using old broken bowls or pans as pots placed on the windowsill or outside the front door, or if they’ve just ripped up a few floor boards on the ground floor to expose the earth and planted little cuttings in there, it’s customary to have living plants in the house.
Some elves who seek to bring a little beauty into their home will chose flowers, mostly weeds which city elves regard fondly for their resilience (forget-me-not, dandelions, wild aster, campanula, celandine etc). More devout Andrastian elves may grow Andraste’s Grace which sometimes crops up in alienages. Most families prefer to have small herb gardens grown, life in the alienage is tough and hard and sickness and injury is all too common (especially for those who can’t afford proper medicine or a professional healer). Elves who work as gardeners often bring home bits of elfroot or spindleweed that rich shems call weeds that they don’t want in their garden, sharing it with their neighbours who can use the cuttings and seeds in their garden.
Nobody really remembers why they do it. Some start talking about legends of ancient elves living in trees, elves living as one with nature and so on. The Dalish and some of those rare city elves who know more than others or who have clung to the old ways and remember the gods say that it’s from the teachings of the great hunter Andruil, who according to legend bid them take care of and respect nature. Regardless, it’s tradition and it’s theirs.
Community get togethers are frequent. If an alienage has a tavern within its walls then the tavern is the usual gathering place. For lack of a tavern, elves with gather around the vhenadahl at dusk to share news of the day and relax. In alienages that face a curfew (or Halamshiral) elves living in apartment buildings (or simply those who share a building) tend to mingle freely and be very social. Any excuse to celebrate will be jumped upon. Weddings are the most well known, vibrant and expensive (by alienage standards) and usually the entire alienage will turn out for the occasion (though the ceremony lasts one day, the effects can be felt for weeks as the alienages welcome their new resident(s) to the community). Births and pregnancies are another cause; “Netanel and Ilya are having another kid? Drinks all around!”. etc.
Alienages have informal schools. With parents often busy working they have precious little time to educate their children in literacy, numeracy and other skills and they cannot receive tutoring like human children. Instead the elven children are gathered around the vhenadahl where the Hahren and older children who have finished their education (usually those on the verge of marriage/adulthood) teach them basic skills and what little of their history they still possess.
Everybody knows everybody in an alienage. By the time a child can understand the world around them they can probably identify their entire extended family tree and those of their immediate neighbours.
Elven families are usually enormous, and their family trees very complex and elves keep careful track of their family tree and take great pride in doing so. Most could probably tell you what their great-great-great aunt was called, what she did and who she married and how many kids she had. In an elven community many people are distantly related to somebody in some fashion or other. Even if one particular elf has no blood relation to another elf they may well have a cousin who does. Every alienage Hahren keeps records of an alienage’s family trees and uses them when picking out matches to avoid interbreeding.
Family feuds can also be very common, whether they spring from so-and-so’s grandad getting the job our nan worked her ass off for, or over what “that awful woman said about our Asha at his wedding. And we’re not forgetting it ‘til we get a formal apology” (to which naturally the reply is “After what he said about our dad? I’ll dock my own ears before I apologize to the likes of them.”). Such feuds are not particularly aggressive (merely being a minor bruise on a family’s pride), though these arguments tend to outlive those who started the feuds and span generations, often becoming part of the fabric of the alienage history. Mostly they tend to simmer down into casual rivalry, becoming part of many inside jokes that are lost on outsiders. Even after generations of “war”, alienage elves still feel confident that they can rely on their rivals for help. After all, no elf will turn away one of their own, though it may smart the troubled party’s pride.
It’s very rare to see an elf walking alone, even in their own alienage and most elves travel in groups for safety. To many dangers, too many accidents waiting to happen; shems looking for trouble, aggressive strays, flat-ears so desperate and down trodden they’ll even turn a blade on their own kin. No elf would ever dream of allowing somebody from their community to walk alone, even the worst of enemies will pull their ears off before leaving one of their own open to danger. Even if they’re both powerless, two still stand a better chance than one.
Though publicly adultery is supposedly frowned upon, the vast majority of elves will turn a blind eye to a married neighbour’s affairs. Their lives are full of hardship and there should be no crime in seeking out comfort or love if it cannot be found in a spouse that isn’t of one’s choosing. Many will blithely remark on what “good friends” two elves are, even if pretty much the entire alienage has spotted them kissing in the shade of the vhenadahl at some point or other.
Rarely having enough coin for themselves elves often repay each other with favours instead of gold. If your neighbour was kind enough to watch your children because you had to work overtime to make ends meet after the death of your husband, you may repay him by sharing your meals with him, fixing his leaky roof or mending his clothes, etc. To leave a favour or debt unpaid is unthinkable.
Nothing is ever wasted. If an elf has something they and their family don’t need it is given to the Hahren, who will see that it is distributed to those in the community who do need it.
Clean water is likely a nightmare to get ahold of. There might be a well in the alienage, but alienages not being the most sanitary of places (especially Denerim where the humans dump their sewage water in the alienage) the water may be polluted or infested with parasites. Some may attempt to use the wells in the human sections of the city, but in some cases may not want to brave potential abuse, or they may face restrictions or even be banned by law from using the human well at all.
In the cases where they cannot access water or the well is not large enough for the entire alienage some elves pay attention to the weather, when the sky promises rain (or starts raining) the alienage residents grab the cleanest undamaged containers they have on hand (pots, glasses, anything) and place them outside to gather the rainwater. When it rains in an alienage every roof save the most unstable will be covered in such containers.
Many alienages have held onto medical knowledge from the Dalish Kingdom and tend to boil their water before using it.
Imagine: You are hopelessly in love with your friend Stefan Salvatore, which could be a good thing, if he was not still in love with his last girlfriend, Elena Gilbert. Well, that is how you see things. But remember: not everything is what it seems.
Word Count: 1631
stared at your phone once more, realising he was not going to text
you. Or even call you. If you stopped even a second to analyse the
situation, it was rather stupid to keep waiting for that to happen.
Nevertheless, Stefan Salvatore was a taken man. Well, not literally,
because he and Elena broke up almost six months ago. Yet, he still
seemed off about it, which made your heart break in ways you did not
conceive as possible.
damn it! Why did you
have to make me like you, anyway?” You huffed, standing up and
leaving the living room.
feelings began to surface after you and him went on a mission
together to find a witch who could help with the whole Originals
deal. Stefan was so sweet and caring back there. Of course, he never
actually showed you he was interested in more than a friendship.
Also, it felt deeply wrong to like your best friend’s boyfriend.
However, you could not help it. Suddenly, the younger Salvatore was
all you could see. When they broke up… It sort of enlightened your
day, even though it was a completely messed up thing to think.
turned the TV on and tried to focus your mind on the funny sitcom. It
did not work. The only thing buzzing in your head was him. And his
gorgeous smile and sweet green eyes. How he would call you up just to
talk and maybe have a drink. The way you two connected… It was kind
of rare. Only Stefan was not able to see it. Stuck in the memories of
his epic love with Elena. It frustrated you the fact they were meant
to be. It was not fair!
soft groan escaped your lips and, finally, you decided to go out.
Clear your head and, if the odds were on your favour, find a
distraction. Within ten minutes you were parking outside the Mystic
Grill, ready to eat and drink something. The vodka cranberry taste
sprinkling on your thoughts.
Matty!” You waved at the blond, watching a smile appear.
what are you doing here, Y/N?”
I think this is a bar, so… I’m pretty sure I came here to drink.”
Your voice was sarcastic and he noticed, shaking his own head. “Can
you get me my favourite?”
but don’t think this is over, miss Y/L/N.”
Donovan was your best friend since both of you were ten. Still, apart
from that, you could not find the strength to come clean about how
you felt to him. Once he heard you had gotten yourself in love with
Stefan, he would flip out. Mainly because you kept this a secret for
too long and, boy, the blond hated secrets.
Matt.” You winked, sipping on your drink.
hate to see you like that, Y/N! Pretending like there’s nothing
wrong… So typically you. I wish you would tell me what’s going on.”
can’t, Matty. It’s not that I don’t want to, I do! If only all of
this was easier.”
I want to know everything.” He rolled his eyes. “But I have
to work. My shift is almost over. Can you wait?”
guess…” You shrugged.
At least you won’t be alone while you do it.”
are you saying that?”
laughed and pointed to the door, where Stefan stood. You suppressed a
sigh and took another sip from the vodka you ordered, struggling to
maintain your heartbeat under control. Donovan patted you on the
shoulder and got back to his work, leaving you to deal with the
devils on your back.
didn’t thought I’d see you here, Y/N.”
you know… I was bored at home so I thought: what better way to
cheer me up than drinking?”
chuckled, taking a sit in front of you. His sweet eyes watching your
every move. It was times like these you wished you were able to read
minds. Not that you liked to snoop on other people’s lives, but
because your heart desperately needed to know something. Either to
give it all up or keep hoping.
You shook your head, exhaling. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
doesn’t seem like you are.” His hand grabbed yours and God knows
how you were able to hold a shudder. “Talk to me.”
just maybe, it was time to open yourself up. Tell him exactly what
had been going on with you and your feelings. Gosh, that would be a
harsh thing to do. You finished the drink and soon enough ordered
another one. Yeah, the opportunity was right there, in front of your
eyes. He needed to know, no matter how loud your thoughts were
screaming for you not to do it. It was the only way to shake it out
I trust you with a secret?”
course you can, Y/N.” His sounded normal, but you could catch
the hint of concern within his words. “We’re friends and I
really care about you.”
OK. There’s something I need to tell you.”
all ears.” Stefan smiled gently and stroked the back of your
hand, which was still lost between his larger ones. “Come on!”
know you are still in love with Elena and…”
up and let me finish.” He nodded, still frowning but agreeing to
hear you talk. “I don’t want to get in the middle of you two.
But I can’t help myself. Stefan, I’m in lo… I mean, I really like
are you saying?”
he dumb or anything? I was pretty clear on what I said!”,
you thought, almost rolling your eyes at his response.
on! You know what I said… I like you.”
bright white teeth shone when he smiled.
was random.” Your beloved rose his eyebrows. “Hum, I like
you too, Y/N.”
probably didn’t understand. I don’t like you as a friend, Stefan…”
mean… Really like me?”
was not what you were expecting. Suddenly, the embarrassment started
to crawl up your emotional wall. He did not felt the same way, as,
deep down, you expected him to. Now, you had lost a friend. You were
so freaking stupid.
need to go. I’m sorry.”
You simply placed a twenty dollar bill and left, meeting the bright
moon on the sky. So beautiful for such a horrible night. “Y/N,
Stefan? I know you don’t want to be with me. I don’t even know why I
didn’t even give me a chance to explain! Matter fact, to say
narrowed your eyes a bit. He did not have to say anything. You were
just his silly little friend. And that was all you would ever be.
Now, without a doubt, even your ears were red out of the unpleasant
awkward situation. “Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?”,
a cruel though popped up in your head.
sorry about the way I reacted.”
you don’t have to do that.”
you just let me finish?”
I’ll shut up.”
really special to me. I don’t I have ever met a girl so though and so
resilient. And there’s no way I can repay for everything you have
done to me. To keep me going.” Stefan pulled you close, wrapping
his arms around your waist. “Elena was a huge part of my life. I
won’t deny it. However, she’s gone. Living her dream with Damon. And
I’m happy for both of them. Of course it took me awhile to get over
that, but you stayed and put up with me at my worst. That’s why
I don’t need to hesitate now: I love you, miss Y/L/N. You’re truly
the one for me.”
Stefan!” The tears built up on your eyes began to stream down
your face. “I’m so happy. I-I never would have figured you felt
wish I knew you felt like this sooner.” He whispered in your
ear, kissing a sweet spot on your neck.
sighed, biting your lower lip.
I say one more thing?”
Stefan replied, softly.
love you too.” It was barely a whisper, but you knew he had
cupped your cheeks and let his thumb wipe off the teardrops which
insisted to keep falling. The younger Salvatore, then, kissed your
mouth very gently. His lips applying a tender pressure against your
own. You pulled a lock of his caramel hair, taking all the pleasure
you could get from that. It was definitely a dream coming true.
would you come back inside with me and have another drink?”
Stefan whispered against your lips, a short awhile after you two
shared such an intimate moment.
me think…” He chuckled. “Yeah, we can do that.”
glad I fit in your tight schedule, Y/N.”
be such a drama queen, honey.”
laughed, stepping in the bar once more. As you watched him go over to
get you new drinks, you realised how lucky you were to be in love
with him. The curse became the relief. That’s why a grin appeared
when you saw him coming back and leaning in for the second kiss of
finally hit you: choosing to love Stefan Salvatore was the best thing
you had ever done. That’s why you would never give up on that
to have the night of your life with me?”
already is, darling.”
smiled, joining him and being genuinely happy you were there at the
right time with the right kind of feelings.
Prompted by “Amsterdam by Gregory Alan Isakov”. You live with Trent Seven, Tyler Bate, and Pete Dunne, nothing can go wrong there right? Recently tensions have been running high. (A lil disclaimer ‘you look so precious with your bloody nose’ is from Kings of Leon, I do not own that)
Panting he looked down at you with a small smile “was that, okay?” He asked with a light blush to his cheeks. Smiling you gently pulled his face down to yours and placed a soft kiss to his lips “it was amazing” you whispered. Both of you froze however when you heard the front door open.
A/N: I’m back! Sorry this took so long, the ending just would not let itself get written. This is for two challenges. The first is @letsgetoutalive‘s Mental Health Awareness Challenge, and my prompt was substance abuse (I really hope I did it justice. I researched it but I have no actual experience with this, so if anything is wrong let me know). The second was @nichelle-my-belle‘s 4K Angst Challenge, and my prompt for that one was “Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age?” Enjoy!
“You stupid bastard! How could you? You were– I– God!” Voice hoarse from screaming, you knelt in front of his grave, moisture soaking through the knees of your jeans. Your fingers skimmed the engravings in the marble stone as tears fell, racing down your cheeks as if there would be a prize for first place. “I’m all alone now, you asshole! And it’s all your fault!”
Cautiously, Sam approached you and gently took your hand, his heart breaking at your pain. You looked up at him, eyes puffy and red, and allowed yourself to be pulled up until you were standing. Wrapping his arms around you, your dad hugged you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head, and you let it happen, let yourself bury your face in his chest and dissolve into a fresh wave of tears.
“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, rubbing circles on your back. “It’s gonna be okay.”
But he was wrong. It wasn’t going to be okay, you were never going to be okay.
Because how can you be okay, how can you possibly go on with your life, when your best friend takes his own?
Summary: A guy tries to take you home after slipping something in your drink, and Harry stops him. Based of #15 of this list - “Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”
Warnings: Attempted sexual assault, some violence, some cursing and mentions of drugging.
There was a hand on your hip and somebody was whispering incoherent words into your ear, but you didn’t care. You were drunk and there was nothing wrong with having a little fun, right?
"Let me buy you another drink?“ The hand on your hip leaves and you nod softly, not actually looking at the stranger. “I’ll be right back."
You continue dancing, your eyes are closed and your hair is stuck to your sweaty neck, maybe I shouldn’t have another drink, you think in passing before the guy is back and shoving a drink into your hand, so you decide another drink won’t hurt, you’ve only had three.
"Sorry, there was a line at the bar,” He smiles sweetly and you nod, finally looking him up and down. He’s cute, blonde hair and brown eyes with a few freckles placed sporadically across his face.
“’s okay,” you smile, but something about the guy feels off. He has a look in his eye that screams danger, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
The guy laughs and places his hand on your hip again, “Lucas, but don’t worry about that. Do you like your drink?"
You take a sip of the drink and nod, "My favorite. How’d you know?"
"Saw you order it a little earlier, figured it was a safe guess.” Luke smiles as he pulls you closer to him, so your bodies are almost pressed together completely.
After awhile of you two dancing things around you start to get blurry, so you begin to hold on tighter to his arm, “How much alcohol was in that drink?”
Luke shrugs, “Don’t know, however much they normally put. Wanna sit down?” You nod and let him pull you away from the dance floor.
The people and lights are blurry, and the music feels heavier for some reason and you begin to panic, “Did you spike my drink?” You ask as you try to pull your arm from his grasp, but his grip only tightens.
“Nah, you just had too much too fast.” Luke sits you down in a booth by the door, “I’m gonna go grab my coat, and you’re gonna stay here and wait for me, got it?”
You shake your head and try to stand up, but he forces you back down, “Stay here.” He repeats slowly, as if to explain it to a child and you can only nod as things become more blurry.
You look around the club blearily before sighing dejectedly once you realize your friend is no where around to save you. You try to stand again, but whatever he had put in your drink was strong and left your legs feeling like jelly.
Your mother’s words haunted your mind, never trust a drink from a man, she had always warned you whenever you went out with friends. You wish you had listened, hadn’t rolled your eyes and shrugged that rule off whenever you went out.
“Wake up,” Your eyes snap open and your brought out of your thoughts as Luke shakes you a little, “need you to walk with me.”
“Why do you care if I’m awake or asleep?” You mumble as he stands you up and wraps an arm around your waist. He doesn’t answer your question, only pulls you along with him, and you begin to panic more.
This is really happening, you think looking over your shoulder for your friend once more, and when it’s obvious they’re not coming you take a deep breathe and face front again as he shoves the doors open, I can do this, you think.
“I don’t want to go home with you,” You whisper as he tries to flag down a tax. You can hear the doors open in the background, but pay no attention to it.
Luke looks down at you for a moment before smiling, “Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”
You squirm in his hold trying to break free, but it doesn’t do much with your weak limbs, “Let me go.”
“No.” His grip tightens, “Stop moving.”
“She said let go.” You both stop moving and turn to face the new voice.
Luke pulls you tighter against him and glares at the man, “Fuck off, mate.”
You start squirming again, but still can’t do much, “She said let go. Let. Her. Go.” The guy starts towards you two and you let out a sigh of relief. He was going to help.
Luke steps in front of you and snarls at the man, “I saw her first man, she’s mine.”
“She’s not a fucking piece of meat, she’s a girl and you drugged her.” The guy scoffs, trying to reach around to take you away, but Luke shoves him back.
“I said, fuck. off.” The guy takes a deep breathe before pulling his hand back and punching Luke, you gasp as he falls to the ground. Luke almost takes you down with him, but the stranger pulls you into his side, “Oh my god.” you grip his shirt tightly taking a few ragged breaths.
“Hey,” He pulls back to look at you, your eyes are half shut and your taking in labored breaths, “I called an ambulance, they’re on their way.” He sits you down on the curb and takes a seat next to you.
You nod resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you wait, “I’m gonna need you to stay awake, okay? Don’t fall asleep on me.” You nod, but your eyes remain shut listening as sirens get closer and closer. Then suddenly someone is pulling you away from your savior and laying you on a stretcher. You sigh softly as you begin to fall asleep, the background of noise of paramedics and your stranger talking fading into silence.
You don’t open your eyes right away, acutely aware of the bright lights that are on. You open them slowly, like that will stop the impending headache that is bound to come with them.
You take a deep breathe as the memories come back to you, and send a small smile towards the boy asleep next to your bed, “Oh good.” You turn to door where a nurse enters, “Nice to see you awake, you were out all night.”
“What happened?” You ask, trying to sit up as she messes around with your IV. The nurse smiles sympathetically, “We pumped your stomach in order to get the alcohol and drugs out of your system, so you may be in a little pain,” She turns to look at you, “We’ve been giving you stuff to keep you hydrated, you’ll be released later today.”
You nod looking over at the stranger before looking back at your hands, “He was here all night, really worried about you. None of us had the heart to send him away.” She smiles at him before leaving the room.
You smile at the boys sleeping figure, “Hey,” you say trying to wake him up. When he doesn’t stir you sigh before taking the pillow from behind your back and throwing it at him, he startles awake looking around confusedly before his eyes land on you. “My hero.” You whisper to him and he laughs quietly.
“You’re awake.” He sits up and tosses your pillow back, you place it in the correct spot and lay down again, this time facing him.
“You didn’t have to stay with me.”
He shrugs, “I didn’t want you to wake up alone, your phone was dead so we couldn’t call anybody but your emergency contact in their database, who didn’t pick up.”
You laugh, “Yeah, my mom is on a cruise with her boyfriend right now and they have a strict no phone policy.” You both look at each other for a moment before you put your arm out in front of you, “I’m Y/N.”
“Harry Styles.” He shakes your hand gently, “Sorry these are the circumstances we had to meet under, I would’ve much rather met you at coffee shop or something.”
You nod, not really wanting to think of last nights events, “Thank you, for stopping him and calling an ambulance. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Would’ve been real shitty to leave you in that kind of situation. Nobody deserves that.” He smiles softly at you.
“There are a lot of shitty people in the world.” You shrug, closing your eyes.
“You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re exhausted.” He smiles softly while standing up and dusting off his pants.
“Will you be here when I wake up?” You ask sleepily.
Harry feels a blush rise on his cheeks and nods, “Yeah. I’m gonna get you lunch and have it here for when you wake up.”
“Hmm,” You hum as you begin to fall asleep, “Best hero ever.”
Hi, it was requested this be long and I hope it’s long enough! If not, I’m really sorry.
I have a few prompt lists reblogged, if you’d like something go ahead and request. I try and do them as quickly as I can without them sucking too much.
I love when people like or reblog these, but I love it even more when people add tags or tell me if they liked it, please do that (and not just for me)! It inspires writers to continue and makes them feel not so bad.
Emma and Regina decide to have a few drinks, Regina ends up totally shitfaced while Emma's basically sober. Regina keeps going over all the reasons she loves Emma and making a fool of herself.
Thanks for the prompt :)
Emma chuckles as Regina flops onto her shoulder and wonders how she never knew how much of a lightweight the brunette was when it comes to tequila.
Considering the nights out Regina has with Maleficent, Emma was expecting her girlfriend to drink her under the table, that was until they sat down and Emma suggested tequila only to find out Regina had never tried it.
Four shots later and Regina’s buzzed…well beyond buzzed.
“Emmmmmmaaaa,” she drawls, “I love you.”
Emma blushes, her heart fluttering at those words, “I know, I love you too.”
“I have to tell everyone…I want everyone to know how amazing you are!” Regina shouts suddenly springing into action and climbing on top of the bar.
“No Regina!” Emma hisses, “That’s a bad idea…why don’t we get off the bar and have another drink?”
“I’m not thirsty,” Regina tells her before cupping her hands around her mouth and screaming at the top of her lungs, “I love Emma! She’s a fantastic mother to our son. She has a laugh that sounds like heaven. Her eyes are…the best…and her hair….Emma I love your hair! Oh and she’s wonderful in bed…she does this thing with her tongue-”
“I think that’s all everyone needs to know!” Emma interrupts, her cheeks now flame red as she stands in front of Regina.
Regina grins before walking forwards only to topple off the bar. Luckily Emma is sober and has quick reflexes so she just about catches her girlfriend. Regina beams at her as she kisses her soundly and adds, “And you catch me whenever I fall.”
You seriously need to get over the hard candy thing It isn't that big of a deal
I wish I could get over it. I wish I didn’t have to live every day of my life thinking about this issue. I wish I didn’t still have nightmares on a weekly basis. I wish I didn’t have to scan the crowd everywhere I go because my abuser is out of jail and I have a paralyzing fear of seeing him again. I wish I didn’t have to hide and hold my breath every time a car I don’t recognize pulls into the driveway, fearing it is him. I wish I could make my husband understand that when I cringe and pull away when he touches me unexpectedly that it has nothing to do with him, it’s just my normal reaction to touch because of what I experienced. I wish I could enjoy intimacy the way I hear people talk about it, the way I read about it. I would give anything to be able to get over it. If you know of a way, I am begging you, please tell me how.
I remain baffled that a fandom made up of mostly girls has decided that lyrics referring to sex with underage girls is totally okay. As long as it comes from Harry of course. The others would have been crucified.
I want you to understand that just because it doesn’t impact you, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t impact other people. I am hardly a rare case as sexual abuse is unfortunately far too common. Abusers love to find music, films, and art that they can identify with. I promise you those lyrics will be sung proudly by sexual predators and will become a memory connected with the abuse by their victims. I also want you to understand that Harry could have chosen another drink (if he was indeed referring to a drink, I’m still not convinced) but he didn’t. He could have addressed this issue once he realized that fans were connecting it to sex with underage girls and he chose not to. Maybe instead of getting over it, we need to ask why Harry and his team insist on ignoring the issue. Maybe we should ask why we, the victims of abuse, are expected to just get over it instead of Harry being held accountable for his actions.
I also want to remind you that they do see what we say and they do find ways to respond. Remember when the fans were upset about the 1d potato thing and the bears posted that pic with the potato masher? Do you have any idea how heartbreaking it is to know that the fandom got angrier over a fucking potato than they did about lyrics about sexual abuse? Harry and Louis felt a potato was worth consoling us about, but not lyrics about sexual abuse? A FUCKING POTATO! A fucking potato is worth more fandom angst than the victims of sexual abuse saying “these lyrics bother me, it appears he is condoning sexual abuse”. Let that sink in.
I can’t make you care, but please try to understand why I do.
Steve Rogers playing matchmaker with you and Bucky Barnes back in the 1940s.
••• Requested by Anon •••
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you that Bucky would be coming along.”
Your grip on your glass tightened, your eyes swiveling towards the back of your head as you tried to ignore the man in uniform that stood behind Steve, leaning over the pool table with one of the most dazzling smiles you had ever seem lighting up his features.
“He really likes you.” Continued Steve, peering over at you with a hopeful look.
“I don’t like being bullied into things, Steve.” You replied, taking a long slip of your Babycham.
“Please, (Y/N). Just give him a chance.”
Setting your drink down, you motioned for the bartender. “He’ll have another drink. On him and have a double for yourself.”
And with that you got up from your stool and strolled over to Bucky.
As you approached, he straightened up like the soldier that he was and turned his smile to you.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to dance together or I’ll never hear the end of it.” You said to him, taking the pool stick he was holding at placed it on the table. “And neither, I strongly suspect, will you.”
Bucky grinned. “Do you want to dance?”
You bit you lip and turned your eyes down to your shoes.
“No, not really.“ You confessed. "But dancing is what people do when they don’t want to seem rude or standoffish or whatever nasty impression I have given you so far. Dancing is what people do when…”
“When they think that they might quite like one another?”
You looked up at him, your lips threatening a genuine smile. “Yes.”
♥ BIOSHOCK SENTENCE STARTERS ↳ feel free to adjust sentences to make it fit your muse better!
❛ Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? ❜
❛ It belongs to the poor. ❜
❛ It belongs to God. ❜
❛ It belongs to everyone. ❜
❛ I chose something different. I chose the impossible. ❜
❛ Would you kindly? ❜
❛ We all make choices, but in the end our choices make us. ❜
❛ In the end, what separates a man from a slave? ❜
❛ A man chooses, a slave obeys. ❜
❛ You think you have memories. ❜
❛ Stop, would you kindly? ❜
❛ Was a man sent to kill, or a slave? ❜
❛ What is the greatest lie ever created? What is the most vicious obscenity ever perpetrated on mankind? ❜
❛ How many catastrophes were launched with the words “think of yourself”? ❜
❛ It’s the “king and country” crowd who light the torch of destruction. ❜
❛ It is this great inversion, this ancient lie, which has chained humanity to an endless cycle of guilt and failure. ❜
❛ I had thought I had left the parasites of Moscow behind me. ❜
❛ And so, I asked myself: in what country was there a place for men like me - men who refused to say “yes” to the parasites and the doubters, men who believed that work was sacred and property rights inviolate. ❜
❛ It’s time to end this little masquerade. ❜
❛ Someone in my line of work takes on a variety of aliases. Hell, once I was even a Chinaman for six months. ❜
❛ I want to make them beautiful, but they always turn out WRONG! ❜
❛ Even in a book of lies sometimes you find truth. ❜
❛ There is indeed a season for all things and now that I see you flesh-to-flesh and blood-to-blood I know I cannot raise my hand against you. ❜
❛ You can kill me, but you will never have my city. ❜
❛ My strength is not in steel and fire, that is what the parasites will never understand. ❜
❛ A time to live and a time to die, a time to build… and a time to destroy! ❜
❛ It’s an angel! I can see light coming from his belly. ❜
❛ They offered you the city… and you refused it. ❜
❛ You saved them. You gave them the one thing that was stolen from them: A chance. ❜
❛ Who looks after sleeping Angels? I do… I do… ❜
❛ They told me, “Son, you’re special. You were born to do great things.” You know what? They were right. ❜
❛ It’s my curse, it’s my fucking curse! ❜
❛ Life isn’t strictly business. ❜
❛ I came to this place to build the impossible. ❜
❛ Why are you so resistant to the traditional methods of separating a man from his soul? ❜
❛ Don’t worry; I just need time to find the proper poison. ❜
❛ They offered you everything, yes? And in return, you gave them what you always did: Brutality. ❜
❛ Nice work, boyo. ❜
❛ You’ve been a pal, but you know what they say: Never mix business with friendship. ❜
❛ Come on! The Angels are waiting for our kisses! ❜
❛ I realized I have love of science. ❜
❛ I said if you are going to do such things you should at least do them properly. ❜
❛ Please get up! Please! ❜
❛ Ocean water is colder than a witch’s tit. ❜
❛ You don’t heat the pipes, the pipes freeze; pipes freeze, pipes burst. ❜
❛ I don’t give a toss if you piss or go fishing. ❜
❛ You think you gonna finish me in here, you old fruit? ❜
❛ And the iceman cometh, baby. The iceman fucking cometh. ❜
❛ If you can’t come in from the cold, then you gotta grow ice over your heart. ❜
❛ This little fish looks like he just had his cherry popped! ❜
❛ Agh, I guess I’ll have another drink. ❜
❛ I know why you’ve come, little moth. ❜
❛ You’ve your own canvas. One you’ll paint with the blood of a man I once loved. ❜
❛ Hurry now! My muse is a fickle bitch, with a very short attention span! ❜
❛ So tell me, friend, which one of the bitches sent you? The KGB wolf, or the CIA jackal? ❜
❛ And with that, farewell, or dasvidaniya, whichever you prefer. ❜
❛ You ooze in like an assassin, and then you try to sneak out like a thief! ❜
❛ There’s two ways to deal with mystery: uncover it, or eliminate it. ❜
❛ I had you built! I sent you top-side! ❜
❛ I called you back, showed you what you was, what you was capable of! ❜
❛ Even that life you thought you had? That was something I dreamed of and had tattooed inside your head. ❜
❛ Angels don’t wait for slowpokes. ❜
❛ I’ve never killed a man, let alone a mate. But this is what it’s come to. ❜
❛ If I have to kill one, to save the other… So be it. ❜
❛ There he is! The one who will save us all. ❜
❛ He’s the one who saved me! ❜
❛ I like him. ❜
❛ Come and get it, mook! ❜
❛ The lighthouse is lit up like Hellfire. Looks like some kind of plane crash. ❜
❛ No, Goddess! He’ll ruin everything! Get him! Have your harpies tear him to bits! ❜
❛ Looks like the old grape finally sent someone. ❜
❛ Stood up! Again! Second time this week. ❜
❛ Who could hate me so much they’d ruin me like this? What did I do to them? ❜
❛ I get so mad sometimes I can hardly breathe. ❜
❛ All those years of study and, was I ever truly a surgeon before I met them? ❜
❛ Change your look, change your sex. Change your race. It yours to change - nobody else’s. ❜
❛ Seems like some poor blighters have started seeing ghosts. Ghosts! ❜
❛ What makes something like me? ❜
❛ The man hires me to build a forest at the bottom of the ocean, and then turns a walk in the woods into a luxury. ❜
Only thing worse than a hypocrite is an unemployed one. ❜