he wanted to win so badly because he wanted to live with his sister

nurseydex royalty au
  • instead of being from Maine, Dex’s family is actually royalty from a small country just outside of America’s east coast with about a million citizens.
  • Dex is born Fitzwilliam Jacob Poindexter II after his mother’s father and is third to the throne after his mother and brother.
  • being the third in line comes with responsibilities much like his brother, but without all of the public recognition, and he has to go through the same kind of grueling education of political wits, charming diplomacy, and easy-going social skills.
  • Dex never did well with the latter. he knew how to talk about his passions and what interested him, how to talk with people he cared for and if they had something important to say. but he hated small talk, never understood why he had to stand around in a room full of people he wasn’t going to see again talking about the weather when he could literally be doing anything else.
  • but he managed, and his advisers all agreed he would make a fine king if tragedy would succumb his brother.
  • so Dex gets that the crown prince’s primary goal is to marry and somehow produce an heir who can further the republic.
  • which is why he politely waits until his brother’s engaged and well on his way of becoming the next regent before he tells his parents that he’s gay.

Keep reading

Hidden love

Hi there! I’m sorry I haven’t been posting for a while. I’m struggling with personal issues and had no motivation to write anything at all. Besides I still struggle with a huge writer’s block but I’m trying to post more! Enjoy this imagine!

(Pic is not mine!)

20 years old (2014)


“Are you cold, love?” Harry inquired, stripping his jacket off to lay it gently around his girlfriend’s shoulders. She leant contently against his side and let him wrap his strong arms around her body. The two of them were sitting on a bench at the nearest park, enjoying the evening breeze that slowly began to set in. A few people were to be seen at the other side of the lake but luckily not close enough to identify them. If somebody found them together that close and told both of their parents, they wouldn’t know what happened as a consequence.

(Y/N) turned her gaze on his face. Her eyes immediately caught the bruise on his right eye. Lifting her hand up, she carefully traced her fingers along his bruise. “Does it hurt too much?” She asked quietly, feeling like it was her fault that he got injured.

Harry led her hand to his mouth and tenderly kissed her finger tips which caused a slight smile on her face. “Not anymore. Don’t you worry, love.”

He and older brother got into a fight in the morning and nobody cared to tell her the reason for their argument. Harry just wiped the topic off by telling her that it was nothing. But (Y/N) didn’t believe him.

You must have seen her brother after he came back from college. Pride radiated off of him as he reported to their father with utter confidence how he caused a black eye on the younger Styles’ face. And her father? Her father just clasped on his shoulder, telling him he did great and that Harry deserved it. (Y/N) was beyond furious and disgusted as she found out about the news and punished both of them, her father and her brother, by not talking to them for the rest of the day, leaving both confused about her behavior. What nobody in her family knew was that she was secretly in love with Harry and vice versa.

And that was a problem. A huge problem actually.

As long as she could remember there was a family feud between hers and the Styles family. Both sides were the richest and wealthiest families in entire London and well-known as well. Her father owned his own company and so did Harry’s and of course there was a rivalry between them. There was always a kind of competition about who was the best and both sides were eager to win. But the situation got out of control when Des Styles almost caused their company to go bankrupt and her father losing everything that he had. (Y/N) was a little girl by then but she still remembered how stressed her father had been in order to save the company. It took him so many sleepless nights and power to find a way out of the problem. That’s all she knew. He came home one day and told his family to never speak a word with the Styles family. The news wouldn’t stop talking about this for an entire week. Everybody knew about that drama.

(Y/N) stuck to his orders. Whenever she had to pass by the Styles’ mansion she made sure to change the street side for not stepping on their ground. She was a little girl and had been afraid.

But the more she grew up the more idiotic she found this family feud. Yes, it may have been a mistake of Des Styles. People tend to make mistakes however why hating on them their entire life?

The hate between both families couldn’t prevent Harry and (Y/N) falling in love with each other.

It was her who felt intrigued with him first. She knew she loved him the first moment she looked into those pretty green eyes of his. There was no day she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Harry had entirely occupied every part of her mind. Whenever she saw him at the hallways in college, her heart would beat faster. She was a nervous wreck around him. Both of them were aware of their background story but this didn’t stop them from talking to each other privately. They were magnified about the other one.

No one knew about their relationship and that was what lasted on their shoulders like a heavy burden. (Y/N) wanted to introduce her boyfriend to her family so badly, to tell them the reason behind her smile and the shining in her eyes.

In college, they had to pretend like they couldn’t stand each other and whenever Harry saw her hurtful gaze when he threw a fake insult at her, he felt a deep sting between his chest. (Y/N) knew there was no meaning behind his words and she didn’t doubt his love for her however she couldn’t get used to it. It simply pained to hear those words coming from his mouth. Harry would always apologize plenty of times, begging for her forgiveness and promising to make it up to her.

People just shouldn’t get an idea of them being together. It was already hard enough to sneak out of the house to meet each other. Besides, they had to spend time together in places, where somebody was rarely around. (Y/N) hated this way. She wanted to scream to the world that Harry Edward Styles was her lover, her boyfriend, her soul mate.

They couldn’t have people get suspicious or they would be torn apart by their parents.

“I’m sorry this had to happen to you.” (Y/N) apologized even though she had no reason to. It was her brother who should do that instead.

“It’s okay. Really, beautiful. I’m fine.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes, inhaling the fresh air. Currently, she felt like she was suffocating.

“Let’s go away.” She said.

“What?”

“Let’s go away.”

Harry looked at her surprisingly but mixed with a hint of curiosity.

“Where?”

“Far away. Where nobody can find us and we can be free.”

Harry sighed, running his hands along his face. How many times had he thought about that option but failed in realizing it? He never wished to be apart from his family. He loved his mother and sister too much and his father was a man that he admired. But he loved (Y/N) as well, more than his own life, but his parents would never give permission for their relationship.

“I mean it, Harry. Let’s run away. I can’t live like this anymore. Sneaking out of the house to meet you, taking absolutely care that nobody catches us. I don’t want to live like this.” Tears started to overwhelm her, welling up on her eyes.

“It’s hard, we’re limited in just simple things, Harry. I cannot even walk around with you, hug you or kiss you in public. There are so many girls who are throwing themselves at you and I cannot do anything about it. I’m scared of loosing you Harry. I’d rather die than living without you. Please, let’s just run away.”

“Don’t cry, (Y/N). We’ll find a way out of this. There has to be a way out of it.”

She brought their lips to a firm kiss. Harry felt her body shake slightly.

“I love you, Harry.” She whispered against his lips once she pulled away from him, running her hands through his messy curls.

“I love you too, love. Always. No matter what happens.”

As the sun completely set down, they left the park hand in hand. They knew they had to struggle for their love and they would soon confront their families about it but at the end everything would be worth it.

As long as they had each other everything was fine.

Because love always wins.


Masterlist

anonymous asked:

I'd love some angst with happy ending for Bellarke: "we have a kid that you don't know about, oh shit....we meet again and that's your son".

thanks for the prompt, nonny! i hope it delivers on the angst, it’s not my usual MO (the happy ending definitely is though)

(ao3)

“Latte for Bellamy.”

Clarke’s head snaps up embarrassingly quickly. It’s not a common name, Bellamy, and while there’s every chance in the world it isn’t him, she can’t bring herself to believe it won’t be.

And then, of course, it is him. A little bit neater than when they were in high school, a little bit less cocky swagger and more genuine self-confidence in the way he carries himself, but it’s undeniably Bellamy Blake. Her– She doesn’t even know where to begin explaining who he is to her.

She’s staring, her own coffee cup hovering halfway to her mouth, and when he turns around his gaze is drawn to hers like a magnet. Like it always used to be.

He freezes.

And then a grin overtakes his face, brighter than anything she’s ever seen, and wow he grew up well.

“Clarke?”

She’s out of her seat and wrapped up in his arms before she even registers moving, but he’s clutching her tightly, firm and warm and solid and here.

Keep reading

I Mean What I Say.

Dean Ambrose/OC/AJ. Styles- Dean said don’t lose the match for us, yet here we are with a loss.

Warnings: a slight daddy kink, little bit of choking, PRAISE KINK BLESS


Also shoutout to the people who wanted to tagged in my future writings @the-geekgoddes @vebner37 @llowkeys

Keep reading

SWIMMING KIDS [M]

Genre: Smut

Kim Doyoung X Reader

Synopsis: In which you’re Taeyong’s sister who has a major crush in Doyoung.

Word Count: 4.458

Author Nother: So yeah, here I come again, at 2am, with more NCT smuts when I should be writting Ultraviolet series, but I hope you enjoy fratboy!Doyoung <3

I’m so sad I had to cut my baby Haechan from here, but I guess it’s for the best since we have alcohol involved.

This is dedicated to the greatest Doyoung stan I’ve ever know, @hinaporcelaindoll, love ya and sorry for taking too long.

Lee Taeyong’s sister was a freshman in the same university as her brother and his friends, and even before she went living in the greek system everybody knew she was trouble. Messing with her means you would have to deal with her jealous brother and his death glare, and Taeyong was a very respectful man around the campus.

Not that she cared about him when she saw Doyoung’s soft black strands and wide eyes for the first time.

The girl was pure sin. Walking around the green grass with her spring dress and lovable smile, nobody could even imagine she could bring someone close to the edge as she was about to do. She didn’t have nothing special, that could say she was different from the other girls, but those teasing eyes… they could set fire into one’s soul.

It was a family thing.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I just can't get behind living nests until she actually freaking apologizes to freaking feyre.

See, this is the exact thing that makes me love her even more. That she hasn’t apologised properly yet.

Bear with me here, Nonnie, because this is going to be a long one. 

Nesta is not perfect. She has made mistakes and stupid/bad things. One very stupid thing would be letting her little sister, our beloved High Lady, provide for them all by herself and letting her carry that burden while at the same time being unsupportive. But a stupid/bad action does not equal a bad person.

When I was a kid my mama always put emphasis and made one thing very clear to me, as she was handing my ass to me, and that thing can be boiled down to this: “You did a stupid thing. You are not stupid, the thing was. You are smarter than this. Make it right and next time do better.”

In my opinion, Nesta knows she fucked up. She is a smart woman. But she is also a proud woman. Nesta telling Feyre that she went after her when Tamlin took Feyre, that she braved the woods and the unknown to find a sister she loves only to be stopped when she could not find her way through the wall, is a part of her making it better. Another thing is letting the Inner Circle use their house for meetings with the Mortal Queens, despite the danger it put her and Elain in. I don’t know if she’ll apologise to Feyre straight out, we’ll see. But I believe she will make it right, she loves her sister too much not to. 

I also very much believe this situation is similar to the one with Rhysand in the hiatus between ACOTAR and ACOMAF. Many people wanted so badly to love him but couldn’t because he had not apologised to Feyre for the things he made her do Under the Mountain. I know, he did not do these things to Feyre for years and he was not someone Feyre are supposed to be able to rely on, her big sister. But for us fans it was similar, you like the character but you will not allow yourself to 100% go for it because they hurt our Feyre. From your ask it seems like an apology is what you are waiting for, that is the one thing standing in the way. Same as many felt with Rhys. 

We got an entire book where Rhys got to redeem himself, show us his true self and explain his actions to Feyre. We have not had this opportunity with Nesta, yet. I think ACOTAR 3 will give us a lot more Nesta and I am freaking ecstatic about that. To understand her motivations beyond protecting Elain, see how she deals with being Made (into an Illyrian), how she will handle being around Cassian, how Rhys will communicate and talk to her as he is still very much thinking about how she treated Feyre, and that pisses him off, understandably. And I look forward, beyond words, to see her interactions with Mor and Amren. Gah! I am so excited! 

Another reason for me to love Nesta’s character is the fact that she is almost Mor’s opposite. We need characters like Mor that are kind and warm and girl power and likeable, she overcame terrible circumstances and is still warm towards those she cares about. But we also need characters like Nesta. Women who go through bad things and deal with it by closing themselves off to those they cares about. We need this because women in our society are not allowed to just be one or a few things, we have to be everything. We have to be perfect. 

We have to be good students, beautiful, dress well, be funny and cool, yet not too cool because a girl can’t possibly know if she is smart and hot because then she is obnoxious and cocky. We have to be good mothers, good sisters, good daughters. A woman is supposed to be sexy but not so much so she is slutty. Virgins are boring and too much work and pressure but if she has had sex she is a whore. We are supposed to be independent on our own but also not too independent because then we hate men and will become lonely cat ladies. We are not to tell men we want marriage and kids  because then we seem desperate but at the same time the women who do not want kids are shamed for it. We are admired if we are strong, work out and know how to fight but then “oh god you work out so much aren’t you afraid you will get too many muscles and look like a man”? A woman has to be kind and emphatic but she also needs to be fierce and not care what anyone thinks. The list goes on.

What I am trying to say is that we can’t win. No matter what we do we are set up to fail because society puts so much pressure on women to be all these things, to an extent men does not have to live with. And so writing amazing characters, basically flawless, like Mor, I mean she has her struggles but we have yet to see a real flaw in Mor, can end up putting more pressure on young girls. But then SJM balance it out beautifully with Feyre and Nesta and Elain. These three sisters who are all incredible and admirable in their own ways but are also very much flawed, in a way that only male characters really get to be flawed. Because if a man has one redeeming quality, that is usually all it takes because we as a society ask so little of men compared to women. 

So we have a almost flawless character like Mor who loves and befriends a flawed character like Feyre. Showing us that you do not have to be perfect to be loved by something good. To deserve good things. 

To end this rant I would just like to say that I would love to see Nesta apologise to Feyre. But I will love her even if she doesn’t. I love her because she is interesting, I love her because she loves her sisters in her own way, I love her because SJM has written such a perfectly flawed female character that is still a good person and what that represents to young girls. I love her because, at the end of the day, Feyre does too. 

Nesta, my (illyrian) thunderstorm

4

(one of my first attempts to write feels, enjoy!)

I Failed To Protect You - [my fic in ff.net]

Sometimes it hurt and he can ignore it. But other times it hurt too much and it became harder to ignore it—but he had to, because there were more important things. Things that could end with permanent consequences if he didn’t give it his all. Death-T, Duelist Kingdom, Dark Bakura, Marik’s Ghouls, and now Dartz and the Orichalcos. He had to shove them away, he had to hide it—bury it deep within him. Cover his pain with walls as hard and cold like the labyrinth in the Puzzle.

He had no time for distractions.

But he knew he couldn’t keep it in forever, he knew it would come back to haunt him. Burying something so deep for so long tended to end badly, to bite him back in the ass. He had witnessed it firsthand with Kaiba, a boy who had buried all his pain and insecurities to be strong for his brother—and later buried everything else to survive the upbringing he had with his foster father. It was like a seed, bury it and let it germinate. Let it grow, mature, and mutate into something he couldn’t control himself. Into an obsession he realized too late. For Kaiba, it was his obsession to be the strongest in Duel Monsters—a childhood dream that became corrupt. He lost his true cause for being strong, and ended up hurting the very reason he wanted to be strong for in the first place.

For him, it was his obsession to always win. No matter the cost, no matter the consequences. He should have seen it before, he had done it once in Duelist Kingdom. When Kaiba had threatened to kill himself if he won (and he would have won the duel if it weren’t for Yuugi, he would have killed Kaiba if it weren’t for Yuugi).Winning games was… winning duels was… winning was the only use he had.

He had used his powers and it only led to pain and fear. It had led to Death-T, for Kaiba wanted revenge after he had humiliated him in a shadow game. It led to Yuugi being absolutely terrified of him, a spirit who possessed his body without his knowledge and hurt people (he had burned one man alive and made Kaiba experience death, for gods’ sakes). It had led to Yuugi’s grandfather being taken, for Pegasus had discovered the Puzzle because of Death-T. His powers were useless, they didn’t help anybody, so he stopped using them.

All that was left then, was his skill in games.

And it stopped being useful when Yuugi was forcibly ripped from him. He closed his eyes at the memory, hands pushing him out of the way and the sinking feeling in his gut (and denial) as he saw his partner in the seal. It should have been him, it should have been him, it should have been him.

He let out a shaky breath. Sometimes it hurt and he could deal with it—but most of the time he was on the verge of breaking. He looked down at the endless black void in front of him. Once upon a time, he had taunted another Item wielder about the horrors of his labyrinth. He had stood before Shadi’s fingers, looking down at him as he dangled at the broken edge of the floor. He had smirked and mocked him, telling him if he fell then his soul would be doomed to be lost in the dark abyss.

He had laughed at Shadi’s fear (and it was no wonder Yuugi had feared him), wondered out loud if he should leave him to fall and rot.

(Gods, he was just like the spirit of the Ring)

If he didn’t exist, maybe life for everyone would be better. If it weren’t for him, his partner would still be here. Dartz wanted him, and was willing to hurt Yuugi’s friends, who were only high school students, to reach him. If it weren’t for his stupidity, his bull-headedness, his gods-be-damned fickle pride—then Yuugi Mutou would still be here in his rightful body. But he wasn’t.

Instead it was an ancient dead spirit with no memories, who was only useful in games and torture (and he was good at it, he remembered the time that he reveled in the screams of Ushio, Sozoji, and countless others before he found some semblance of sanity).

He tilted his head and leaned forward, teetering a little more towards the void. He marveled at the endless black, light seemingly stopping in the void. He remembered the cruel words he told Shadi and wondered.

If he fell… would he disappear?

This was his soul room, and the void was still part of his soul (and what did that say about him, to have a vast dark hole in a mental representation of his very essence?). At best, he would continuously fall until some external force stopped him. At worst, he would forever be lost within his own mind. A soulless soul, if that was possible. He would disappear into nothingness, fade away, and never be a bother to anyone else anymore.

That seemed nice.

Who would miss him? The people who truly knew him were (mostly) long dead, buried under the sand for thousands of years. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were displayed in a museum somewhere. Jounouchi? He would move on. Anzu? She would get over him, always her love for Yuugi would be stronger than the whatever-it-was she had for him (it was something he admired from her, because she truly loved Yuugi as a friend, sister, and—given time—something more). Honda? They weren’t that close, he wasn’t close with any of Yuugi’s friends. Not really. Ryou? He suspected that the white haired boy was a bit wary around him, perhaps reminding him of another ancient Egyptian spirit.

Yuugi? Yes, he would probably miss him. But he had friends, he had his family, and he had always been the stronger between them. He had lived most of his life without him, and he could do it again—especially now that he had more people who would care for him. What would he need from someone who was still insane? Who still felt a little pleasure in seeing the pain of duelists as they were defeated, who still felt tempted to call his power and bring forth terrifying illusions as retribution?

Who used that gods’ forsaken card despite knowing what it could do, what would Yuugi need from someone like that?

Yuugi was strong and he was weak. He couldn’t concentrate without the comforting presence of Yuugi’s soul, couldn’t summon up the will to fight without his words of encouragement.

It would be so easy to jump, or even just lean forward a bit more. Nobody needed him, nobody should want him, who would miss him?

“I would, my prince.”

He jerked at the voice and turned. Behind him was a tall man, garbed in dark violet robes and armor, and looking at him with sad blue eyes. He looked away.

“You shouldn’t, I treated you horribly,” he said, feeling bile in his throat as he remembered the callous way he treated all his monsters. Hadn’t he once told Pandora that he should treat his cards with respect and dignity? That they were more than just tools? What a self-righteous hypocrite he was. “I hurt you.”

“I will heal.”

“I hurt her,” he emphasized, remembering the betrayed look the man’s beloved student gave him as he forced her to sacrifice herself. “I promised—I goddamn promised her, and yet I-”

He deserved to lose… he did.

But Yuugi didn’t deserve to take that penalty, it should have been him.

“She will heal.”

“She shouldn’t have to!” he snarled, looking back at Dark Magician—his most loyal Duel Monster (and whywhywhy did he deserve such loyalty from a powerful and dignified being like him?). He remembered the pure hurt shining in those green eyes, glistening with tears threatening to pour out. And if he had been less prideful, less blind, then he would have listened to the tugs pulling in his heart. Because Dark Magician Girl was far more suited for happiness, not crying, and he should have made sure that—

(“Hey now, don’t cry,” he soothes the sobbing girl. “I sucked out all the poison, the snake won’t bother him. No more tears, okay?”)

“You shouldn’t have to either! What kind of… what kind of—I don’t know what I am to you!” he cried. “I don’t know what I was to you, but I sure as hell know I shouldn’t be hurting you!”

Shouldn’t make one of them cry (I’m so sorry).

He wasn’t clueless, he wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t be half as good in games if he didn’t have the ability to connect the dots. Ishizu had shown them the tablet, and it had the Dark Magician carved on it. That spoke volumes in itself. He knew the spellcaster was connected to his forgotten past, and he suspected that they had been something. Friends perhaps (dare he hope, after what he did?). Dark Magician had always been far more alive in duels than what seemed expected from the holographic technology, even before Kaiba’s advanced duel disks. Smiling, wagging his finger, doing twirls with his staff before he attacked, and sometimes looking back at him worriedly when he thought he wasn’t paying attention.

And the duel with Pandora, that time where he activated an effect all on his own, standing in front of him so his life points wouldn’t go to zero. Monsters shouldn’t be able to do that, not without any indication from their duelists or the duel disks. Dark Magician was self-aware enough to act on his own volition.

He had appointed himself guardian of his soul room (and how did Duel Monsters get into his soul so easily?), often nudging Yuugi away from tablets and rooms when the teen felt like exploring. The one time Shadi tried to venture the labyrinth again in Duelist Kingdom, the Egyptian man nearly got disintegrated on the spot by an irate magician when he tried to touch the tablets. If it weren’t for Yuugi intervening, Shadi would have been a smear on the floor.

He knew him, he cared about him.

And look what he does to that person, he treated him as a mere tool.

Another person he hurt because of his pride, one who stood by him longer than anybody he knew. Despite that, despite committing the most damnable failure he’d ever committed, the man was still determined to protect him, even from himself.

“Why? Why do you go through such lengths to protect me?” he asked, wringing his hands. It baffled him. He was a powerful spirit, he could defend himself. He was dead and couldn’t remember his own name, there wasn’t much left to protect—body and mind. And if he thought about it, he only used Dark Magician as a soldier in battle. Even before the tribute summon rule in dueling, the spellcaster has gone through so many deaths it was a wonder he still had the energy to go through his typical sass. Why would he put up with that? “I don’t remember you, I don’t know you.”

He saw the quick flash of pain in the blue eyes, the raw hurt at that admission. So he had been right then, he and Dark Magician (and most likely Dark Magician Girl) knew each other, once upon a time. It must hurt, to see a loved one (maybe?) completely forget about you, to see them look at you with no recognition. He turned away, he had already been hurting Dark Magician without trying. By looking at him, not remembering him.

“Gods, I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you,” he said bitterly, laughing at himself. “I’m nothing, the only worth I seem to have is that I was pharaoh, and what good is that?”

Dark Magician flinched, as if physically struck by his words, but he plowed on regardless. Too engrossed at his thoughts to care, these feelings had been festering for a while now, and they were itching to burst.

“What good is a pharaoh who can’t even remember his own name? What good is a pharaoh who’s dead, whose body is a shriveled up corpse somewhere?” he laughed, shaking his head. “Hell, what good is a pharaoh in this day and age?”

He laughed again, like he had found a funny joke—and really, he did: it was called his life. He was an ancient spirit with amnesia, who possessed a Japanese teenage boy via a golden puzzle and was apparently Egyptian once upon a time. His talents were winning games, recently card games, and his skills consist of making people crazy. His life was a joke, his death was a joke.

“Your worth isn’t because of your title.”

“Oh? And what is it then?”

“It’s because you are you,” Dark Magician replied softly, walking closer to him and placing his (warm warm warm) hands on his shoulders. The spellcaster gently pulled him away from the edge. He didn’t fight back, didn’t shrug off the hands. It wasn’t the first time he thought about ending his un-life (un-death?) and looking at the dark void contemplatively, just the first time he had finally voiced his thoughts out loud. Always, Dark Magician was there to pull him away. “Do you think I would stay for thousands of years just because you were king?”

From the Egyptian people he had met before, it was obvious that they weren’t the sanest or most logical bunch. But he restrained himself from saying that. “Whoever I was before, I’m certainly not him now.”

Memories were the basis of personality after all, and he barely had any.

“You’d be surprised with how little you’ve changed,” the man refuted, wrapping his arms around his waist and dragging him down the floor. He flailed, surprised at the change of position. He was seated between the spellcaster’s legs, who placed himself in a cross-legged sit, not letting go of him. “You are still the intelligent and kind man I knew, one who always protects his friends.”

“I’m doing a horrible job at it,” he muttered, feeling awkward at being hugged. Nobody had ever given him soft and affectionate touches like this. He knew he was viewed as someone intimidating, untouchable and powerful. The closest he experienced was Jounouchi’s hug tackles and noogies. Most would give him a pat on the shoulder.

“You are doing the best you can with the limited resources you have,” Dark Magician corrected, removing his arms from the small spirit to take off his armor. First the pauldrons, then his helmet. He blinked, staring at the long violet hair that fell over the man’s shoulders. His hands twitched, wanting to comb through the locks and see if it was as silky as it looked.

Without the armor, Dark Magician looked less threatening. Softer, gentler.

Familiar.

(White robes, tan skin, long brown hair, and gray eyes shining with amusement)

He was pulled out of his musings when Dark Magician hugged him again, this time a little closer. With the armor out of the way, he could feel the man’s steady heartbeat. Could smell his comforting scent; lavender, incense, and other spices. He fidgeted, unsure on what to do in this (surprisingly comfortable) position.

“I forget that you are so human,” Dark Magician murmured, combing through his spikes. “That you are confused and unsure of yourself, that you hurt near constantly, that you need companionship as much as you need protection. I thought I have gone past that, seeing you as something infallible and god-like.”

“I’m not god-anything,” he protested. God forsaken, perhaps. But god-like? That was ridiculous, there was nothing godly about him.

“Once upon a time, I thought you were,” Dark Magician sighed, still stroking his hair. It was so calming, he cuddled a bit closer. Eyes drooping as he listened. “The person I was in the past would have been horrified with my actions now, would think it beneath his status, to be so casual with the king.”

“Statuses are stupid,” he mumbled, remembering the arrogant people he had encountered when he was freed. It was always status of something for them—wealth, beauty, popularity, and other silly things. “We both have the same color of blood, don’t we? Neither of us should be beneath or above each other.”

He felt rumbling from the other’s chest, and the arms around him tightened. “You truly haven’t changed—matured and grown perhaps, but what made you remarkable to me is still there.”

“There’s nothing remarkable with treating you horribly.”

“Your opponent manipulated you, used your self-doubt against you,” Dark Magician said. “Dartz has ten thousand years’ worth of experience to know what could break you, I’m sure he told his follower how.”

“But-”

“I should have intervened, said something—the rules of the game never held strongly to me,” he continued. “I should have reassured you, instead of watching you doubt yourself more and more—what kind of friend am I? To do nothing while you were hurting?”

Friend, he called him a friend.

He sobbed brokenly, because he had met a lot of things related to his unknown past. Enemies like Dark Bakura and Pegasus, unfortunate slaves like the Ishtars, and tentative allies like Shadi. But never a friend, never any indication that he had bonds with anyone. Yes, the tablet was a symbol of friendship created by one of his high priests, but this was also the same person who had created the clan of grave keepers doomed to never see sunlight. He had a friend, a person he cared about and cared for him as well. He had a friend, and surely that meant he wasn’t that horrible of a person before, right?

“Oh, my prince, you were never horrible,” Dark Magician replied sadly. Had he said that out loud? “Forceful and prideful, but never cruel and cold-hearted. You shouldn’t believe the words of Raphael.”

“S'hard,” he sniffled, trying in vain to stop the tears. It was hard to ignore the duelist’s words when it was true. How could he be sure that he was a good person before? He had been cruel and cold-hearted the first months of being released, he had been horrible and terrifying. And when he thought he was getting better, becoming good, he reverted back to being a cruel spirit who loved seeing people lose. Just for the sake of winning a stupid card game. He had broken a promise, he had ignored Yuugi, he had treated all of his cards like crap. He had treated his friend like crap. “M'sorry, ’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

He wished he wasn’t hugged like this, he wished he was punched like how Jounouchi reacted. He wished there was disappointment and grief in those blue eyes, like in Anzu’s when she discovered the news. He wished the man would scream at him, like Rebecca had. He wished all of this was just one big nightmare and Yuugi was there, smiling at him and asking him to look at their deck again.

“M'so tired, Dark Magician,” he mumbled. “I wan’ t'sleep for a long time.”

And never wake up, was the unsaid thought.

He sighed as he felt fingers combing his hair again, he let his eyes slid close and his body relax into a boneless heap. Surrendering himself to the feeling of safety and comfort from the man (no matter how undeserving he was of having it).

“Then sleep,” Dark Magician said softly. “I will wake you up when it’s needed.”

He was so tired.

“… ‘Kay,” he breathed. “G'night, Mahad.”

A twitch, the arms around him held him tight.

“Pleasant dreams, my prince.”

Sleep was nice.

Awaken [Hunger Games!Ivar x Reader]

Originally posted by lovelynemesis

Originally posted by whenimaunicorn

Notes: This is part two to Bloodbath, which I you can find here. I hope you enjoy!

Y/N/N = Your Nickname

Warnings: NSFW, sweet!Ivar, maybe you’re alive?? You’ll just have to find out!


I gasp for air as my eyes snap open. Tubes are protruding out my body, some pumping liquid in and others assisting with my breathing. I want to panic, but it seems like that would be a bad idea. 

Men and women in lab coats rush around me, poking at my damaged flesh. My blood is still on the visible patches of my skin. I look up to my reflection and the print of Ivar’s lips in my blood lies on my forehead.  

“I am supposed to be dead.” I say, eyeing one of the doctors who was checking my IV.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Rosvolio prompt + "It's Montague now"

There’s something in the mass of ignorant noblemen that makes Rosaline’s patience run thin; this is not the place or time when important decisions happen. The world’s a stage, for sure, but as time passes, she finds herself to be a very poor actress. As time passes, there’s not much need for acting to begin with.

And yet, as another lord approaches the bench where she and Livia sit, sharing whispered secrets and warm news, Rosaline can barely hide the discontent from her face. She sets for an eye roll, as the man bows in front of them. Livia’s finger pokes her back, forcing her to straighten her posture and show the slightest of interest in him. She frowns at her sister, surely she must understand why she’d prefer the company of Livia, who she’s now seeing maybe twice a year, over (almost) anyone else’s.

But, as the lady she’s been raised to do, Rosaline just coughs, crosses her ankles and gallantly places her hands in her lap, waiting for all to be over. Next to her, Livia is all smiles.

“As always, the beauty of Capulet ladies lives up to the rumours.”

Keep reading

Fault of Family

A/N: I’m not sure how often I’ll write or how often I’ll be here but I’ll write as inspiration strikes. I started this while I was on my trip in June and finally finished it. I’m going to need focus more on me but I’ll still be writing, because it’s what I do. It’s what bring me fun and happiness.

Summary: They took you in. They loved you. Your family protected you. What kind of sister would you be if you didn’t return the favor?

Pairing: Lin x Sibling!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood.

Requests are open! (just be awhile before they get written)

Word Count: 3566

Thank you to my ever awesome proofreader and vent listener, @secretschuylersister​.

Tagged: @gratitudejoyandsorrow @itsgarbagecannotgarbagecannot

Keep reading

Bury All of You

Summary: What happens after Alec accepts Magnus’ drink in 1x06, leading up to the morning after their impromptu sleepover.

Rating: K+

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Author: dylanobrienstyler

Can also be read on AO3.


Alec wasn’t sure what made him agree to do this.

Maybe it was still the fiery rebellion inside his gut that had come aflame when he heard from his sister the plans their parents had laid out for them. Maybe it was that his issues with Jace was making him feel less secure in his personal relationships and fueling a desire to spend time with those outside of the Shadowhunter realm. Maybe it was that, although he was stubborn beyond words at times, Alec knew that there was something deeper pulling him to the warlock he was currently in the company of.

But whatever it was, it had led him here. To sharing a drink with the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

He had originally come because Jace had asked him to throw aside duty for Clary Fairchild’s friend Luke, who had been badly injured in a werewolf power battle. He had argued with Jace on the matter at first, knowing the redhead was more trouble than benefit and that throwing aside their Shadowhunter duties to tend to all of her extensive needs was getting a little ridiculous and only spelled disaster. He and Jace hadn’t been seeing eye-to-eye lately, but he couldn’t deny that he missed his parabatai. And after Isabelle spouted their parents’ plans for them, he knew that following the rules wasn’t helping him build the life he wanted. His life’s path apparently would always be chosen for him.

So Alec ran to Magnus’ side, where Jace had claimed he was needed according to Magnus’ specific request, and he found the warlock struggling to maintain his magic. The shaking items in the loft and intense colours swirling out of his hands made it clear Magnus had been using a lot of power to attempt to heal Luke.

Alec had bounded to his side, clasping around his middle to keep him upright as he swayed, and offered his hand for Magnus to leech his strength from.

It had been an exhausting and strange experience, but they ended up saving Luke from the alpha venom wreaking havoc in his veins, so he figured it was worth it. Even if he didn’t have any alliance to the new werewolf pack leader and he was wary about interfering with Downworlder politics, a life spared from the evils of the world was always a win in his books.

After Magnus had settled Luke into the guest room across the loft in order to recuperate post-near-fatal wounding, and Clary had excused herself to speak to him before she too followed Simon and Jace’s earlier farewell and raced out of the loft like she was on a mission.

Normally, Alec would care what the troublesome girl was off to likely screw up next, but he found himself ignoring his usual ambition to minimize any potential damage and deciding that someone else could clean up everyone else’s messes for once.

Instead, he hung around Magnus, cleaning up the blood from the leather couch with the remnants of Luke’s torn shirt. He wasn’t sure if Magnus even owned cleaning supplies.

Sure enough, Magnus made a comment about being able to use magic to tidy the mess, but Alec reminded him of his intense exertion not long before and hesitantly accepted the drink Magnus offered him.

It was quite strong, making him grimace at the taste as it burned down the length of his throat, but he kept drinking it anyways. He usually wasn’t much of a drinker, but he’d had a shitty enough day that he’d make an exception.

And then of course his mother called and he was reminded of all the things he was trying to forget. Including the way Magnus was hinting at something growing between them that he wasn’t ready to face.

A part of him wanted to say yes. Wanted to keep going with the rebellious drive he had alight inside, but it was so much more than just disapproving parents he had to worry about. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to tackle everything that came with admitting what it all would mean.

And Magnus seemed okay with that. Seemed to understand his inner turmoil. As much as he was flirty and playful, he also backed off when he sensed Alec getting spooked, and he made it clear he wasn’t pressuring him.

For that, Alec was grateful.

And he supposed that was why he ended up agreeing to a second drink.

Keep reading

Golden Hearts 💛🖤 - Chapter One

AJ Styles/OC


Warning:None really. A bit of flirting and some less than happy moments mentioned. Its a bit of a slow start but it’ll pick up!









Tears rolled slowly down Tika’s cheeks as a sad smile rose to her lips while she stared at the phone on front of her. While she sat in the car line at the arena, she had gotten bored and decided to look through the gallery on her phone. The line had come to a stop with some sort of hold up she wasn’t sure about the nature, honestly didn’t care. The rain was pouring down around the car with the sun threatening to peak around the clouds mirrored the way she felt. She wanted to cry and smile all at the same time.

Tika’s four-year-old daughter, Serenity, came into view of the camera, a smile on her sun kissed brown skin. Her dimples looked like two wells on her chubby cheeks. She twirled one time in her floral print romper then leaned down to fix the straps of her gold sandals.

“Is that my baby?” Tika asked loudly. “Is that my babv slayin’ like that? With her baby hairs poppin’?”

Serenity giggled as she put her hands on her knees and cocked her little head to the side. “Who else but me, mama. I’m flawless.” She pretended to whip her hair, which was secure at the top of her head in a neat bun.

The video came to an end with Serenity doing her best Beyoncé moves. She was Serenity’s favorite singer so much so Tika made sure to take her daughter to any concert she could and bought her memorabilia as well.

Tika started to go through the pictures they had taken that day. She remembered that day clearly. They were headed off to a summer pool party one of Tika’s friends was having for the kids. If it was one thing Serenity had gotten from her mama, it was her love of photography. She took pictures of any and everything she could. Serenity’s little imagination had knew no bounds just as her mama’s.  

The sound of someone laying on their horn snapped Tika’s attention from her phone to her rearview mirror to see the person honking at her. The smile on her face replaced with a scowl, even if she was holding up the line they didn’t need to honk at her like that. She put her car in drive still staring in the mirror wanting badly to flip them the bird. It was one thing she didn’t miss about while she was on leave from the company, some of the rude people she called co-workers. Her time was just as valuable as theirs.

After a year of being gone, things felt a little foreign to Tika. She couldn’t lie though and say it didn’t feel good to be back. Even though she didn’t want as much time as the company had given her off, she was thankful for it. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to make it back in the two months she had originally asked for versus the year they gave her. What’s more, she didn’t think she would still have a job. Yet here she is, backstage at Smackdown Live in Toledo, Ohio. The company, mainly Shane, fought with her to wait till the Smackdown after Blacklash to return instead of the actual pay per view. He didn’t want her to be overwhelmed. She was still a bit apprehensive about being so far from home but she knew she needed to be strong and have faith.

No one seemed to take notice in her being there, which she preferred. She moved in silence through the bright, buzzing backstage area. All Tika wanted to do was make it to her area so she could unpack her bag and start snapping pictures.

“You didn’t tell me you were here, Ti.”

The voice brought her smile back. Tika acted like she didn’t hear them, pretending to search her camera bag for lenses she didn’t need. “You hear me, girl. I know you do.” Suddenly there were arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground making her laugh louder than she should have.

“Let me go, Trin,” she laughed trying to wiggle from her grasp. “We’re in public. Put me down, you’re being extra.”


“Oh, I’m extra,” Trinity asked setting her down. “I’m extra because a certain someone didn’t tell their favorite oldest cousin they were back.”


Trinity gave Tika a fake smile to combat the smirk on younger woman’s face. In her rush to get everything packed and ready for her flight from Orlando, Florida to Toledo, Tika had forgotten to let her cousin know she was returning to work. Their relationship was much more like sisters and best friends. If someone didn’t know them, they would swear they were sisters. Trinity being the more eccentric sister with the bright hair and make-up where as Tika was the tamer one. She liked to keep things simple, natural for the most part and fun.  

“First, you’re my only cousin. Second, I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed trying to get everything together for the trip.”

Trinity eyed her for a second as if debating whether she believed her or not. “Mmhm. So how you holdin’ up, Ti?”

“I’m fine, I’m good.”

“If you’re not, you know you can tell me right?” Trinity pulled her into a small hug, resting her head against Tika’s head, lovingly. She appreciated her cousin wanting to check up on her but she didn’t want to talk about any of it. Finally getting to a point where she could leave her house without crying, Tika didn’t want to make any steps backwards. If she did, she knew the result wouldn’t be good for her.

“Enough about me though. What about you, champ? Winning in our backyard, babe. That was everything.” The proud smile was unmistakable. To say Tika was proud would be an understatement. She always knew Trinity would get her WrestleMania moment, her only regret is that she missed it.

Trinity smiled bashfully, ignoring the people moving around them trying to get things ready for the show. Tika noticed and moved them to the other part of the hallway, trying to get out of the way.

“It was amazing. I felt so much love, I didn’t think the people would really be happy I won. It was a shocker.”

“Girl, please.” Tika shooed her playfully. “With all that shaking and flipping you did. Who wouldn’t love you? I was looking at you tryna figure out if that was my big cousin out there slayin’.”

They bumped shoulders as they laughed loudly earning looks from the people around them to which they gave them nasty glares. When they were together, it was loud and everyone had a good time. And if anyone wasn’t having a good time then they could leave as Trinity would always say.

“Come on, I know Jon and Josh wanna see you. They’ve been talkin’ about you since we last saw you in March.”

Trinity was never one to ask anything. The words that came out of her mouth, usually came out in a demand. This time was no difference. Tika gave a fleeting glance as Trinity drug her away holding onto her hand tightly. As they passed throngs of people, their co-workers, they attempted to speak to Tika but Trinity was not slowing down. Instead of a proper conversation, Tika gave them small waves and apologetic smiles.

When they entered the large, open locker room, the room got louder. There was an up roar of cheers, shit talking and laughing. Just what Tika had missed. Watching Austin record for his gaming channel, especially the competitions were pure entertainment. Kofi and E sat in front of the monitors Austin had set up on the table playing UFC. It must have been for the tournament he saw Jon going on and on about on Twitter. Jon, his brother Josh, Antonio and AJ stood around the trio, as spectators and commentators. Trinity bumped shoulders with Jon, he turned around prepared to pop her arm until his eyes landed on me.

“Oh snap! Lil Tiki torch in the house,” he yelled draping his arms around her. His hug swallowed her leaving her no choice but to bury her face in his chest until he was ready to let her go. Tika couldn’t help but laugh at how affectionate he always seemed to be. His outburst had caught the attention of the other males in the room.

“We’ve got the baddest woman in the land with a camera in her hand, Miss Tika Harris” Austin roared looking into the camera. A round of ‘oooh’ emanated from E and Kofi at his rhyme.

“How you doin’, love?” Josh asked pulling her away from his brother’s arms into his. “I’m alright. No worries.” Josh was the calmer twin. He didn’t need to be loud all the time like his older brother. Then again, he could get just as loud if need be. Austin and Antonio gave her quick squeezes then returned to the game play.

“Long time, no see, darlin’.”

“Hi to you too, AJ.”

Tika kept her head forward staring at the screens in front of her not wanting their interaction to be caught on the cameras. She knew that fans paid more attention to those in the background more than the ones right in front. The last thing she needed was marks ganging up on her and sending mean tweets.

His eyes bore into the side of her face. The baby blues were locked in, he didn’t care about the presence of a Austin’s cameras. “Your thumbs don’t look broke to me.”

“What,” she asked with a slight laugh.

“I mean I figured you weren’t textin’ cause your thumbs were broken,” he sighed folding his arms across his chest. “But I see they’re just fine.”

Tika didn’t feel like getting into this conversation while they were in ear shot of everyone else and the camera. The last thing she needed was for someone to make a big deal out of them talking. She’s seen first hands what false accusations can do to someone’s career in this company especially a female. With a nudge to Trinity’s arm, Tika left the locker room already knowing AJ would be right behind her shortly. While she wondered down the hallway towards the large stack of crates she scrolled through the notifications on her phone. There were mainly texts from her parents, especially her mom, who wanted to know how everything was going and how she was doing. The rest were a few friend, who after a year still didn’t get that she didn’t want to constantly relive it all and didn’t want their handouts.

She felt his presence before she saw him. AJ approached her just as she made it to the crates. He lifted her by her hips onto the crates so that he could get a good look at her.

“What is with you wrestlers and picking people up?” She sat her phone beside her on the cart, giving AJ her full attention. In the year that she had been gone, he had let his hair grow longer than what she remembered. His beard was a lot fuller now. Both framed his face, bringing out his eyes even more. “It’s a part of the occupation. Didn’t get these muscles from liftin’ remotes,” he shrugged. A year later and still the same person.

“I’m sorry for not returning your calls and texts. I’m tryna do better now, AJ.”

“Yeah well I accept your apology this time. But next time,” he warned wagging his index finger in Tika’s face. She laughed pushing his finger from her face.

She and AJ had become good friends upon him coming into the company back in 2016. He had such a good spirit, she couldn’t ignore him for long. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him greeting her so nicely every time he saw her or the small conversations and jokes he made when they found themselves near each other with time to kill. Some of the men that worked for the company tried to give off this vibe that they were good people but in reality, they were assholes. But AJ was different, he was the person he put out for others to see.

“No but really. How you holdin’ up, kid?”

“Kid?” She scoffed at the name. “I’m a grown woman, AJ. Not a kid. I told you about that name before.”

“You’re a kid to me. A sassy one.”

“Grown. Woman.” She spoke slowly maintaining eye contact with him. A smile graced his lips as he waved her off playfully. “Whatever, kid or grown woman. How you holdin’ up?”

“I’m fine. Taking it day by day.”

AJ was the first person to find her after it initially happened. She was standing in the lobby of the hotel with Trinity, the twins and some of their other co-workers debating on plans when she got a phone call from her mom. They were in New York for Raw, it was a month before the brand split. She would never forget how her mom sounded on the other end of the phone. For a moment, she felt like she was paralyzed but then she was tripping over herself repeating that she was coming home to her mom before hanging up. The hallway that she had snuck off to was clear, the only noises around her was the dinging from the nearby elevator bank.  

All she remembered was AJ helping her from the floor, trying to ask her what’s wrong. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t bring herself to repeat what her mom had told her, she didn’t want to make any assumptions and saying it out loud would make her do just that. For a few minutes, all she could do was cry. She sobbed quietly into his chest, something she wouldn’t be able to do when she reached Orlando. The world around her felt as though it had come to a stand still. She rememberedbletting him know that something was wrong with her daughter and she needed to get home.

AJ stayed with her until Trinity spoke with her aunt, Tika’s mom, to find out what exactly was happening. Tika clung to him, her head was throbbing but she couldn’t stop her tears. He hated to see her upset, he had never seen her do anything but smile, laugh and occasionally glare.

“You’re thinking about it. Don’t do that.”  Her voice was soft and sweet. She smiled but AJ saw the sadness behind the smile on her smile. “Thinking about it won’t change it, AJ. I learned that the hard way.”

AJ opened his mouth to speak but Austin yelling out his name cut him off. I shooed him away when he tried to keep talking. Getting AJ away from the whole conversation was for the best. It was part of the reason Tika had stopped responding to his texts. AJ was way more comfortable talking about it than she was. It didn’t upset her that he wanted to talk about it, it upset her that at some point she was comfortable talking about it with him. She just didn’t think she was ready and here it is a year later.

Grabbing her phone, Tika hopped down to go back to her camera so she could do test shots. On the way, she glanced at her phone for the time, her lock screen catching her eye instead. The picture put a smile on her face, most of the time it’s what kept her going. The person she was doing everything for.

Another Love

Characters: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 851

Warnings: this is angsty that’s all I gotta say, talk of being abused (physically and verbally), fear of it happening again

Request:  Hey! I saw you do songfics so i would like to request a Samxreader based on the song “Another love” by Tom Oddel, where the reader breakeup with sammy cause, as the song says, (i wanna love but all my tears has been used up on another love) she was in a kind of bad relationship before Sam and she think that she can’t love anymore. I know is really angsty so if you don’t want to do it it’s ok! 

Author’s Note: If you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite! If you want to request a fic, please send them in! I love writing what you guys want!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

Originally posted by spnjensenlove02

You were the kind of person that hated letting your past dictate what you do now. You haven’t had the best track record with men. In fact, you were in a pretty bad relationship early in life. You were 17 and you thought you were in love.

Turns out, you just loved the thought of being in love.

Keep reading

Award night Part 1 X Norman Reedus X Reader

So this one is about the reader working for the walking dead *my dream job* up for an award and her brother Andrew Lincoln is taking her. She’s also awkwardly inlove with Norman. Not like the usual ones I do. Part 1 of 2 :) Also this is a set up for a part 2 smut and I sometimes write how I say things (e.g. gret means great) it’s just my accent. So any questions please ask. 💚


You were sat at your desk, headphones on concentrating on your work in front of you. After hours of trying to make this zombie suit squirt blood you thought you had finally done it. All of a sudden a hand grabbed your shoulder scaring the life out of you. You let out an unearlthy scream. You spun around to see your brother Andrew laughing hysterically at you.

You pulled your headphones off “Oi asshole! You scared the shit outta me!”

“You, scared? You make zombies for a living.” He said still laughing.

You raised your eyebrows “Walkers actually” he just mimicked you in response. Looking at your work you smiled to yourself. “Hey check this out. I’ve been on it for a good two hours.” You stepped aside so he was stood directly in front of the silicone walker.

“What’s this one do?” he said bending down to get a close look.

“This!” you laughed as you pressed the button causing fake blood to spray all over his face.

He shot back wiping his face “You little shit!”

“You two done fuckin around?” Norman’s voice made you stop laughing instantly. “are you ready to go?”

“Yeah man” Andrew winking at you.
Norman left and you punched Andy on the arm “Asshole. Are we taking him home?”

He rubbed his arm “Yeah. Need to get ready for tonight. Also you need to sort your shit out. Tell him how you feel.”

“Not a chance. I get all weird and sweaty around him and I’m already nervous enough about tonight.”

You both left your workshop and walked out in the blazing sun. After all this time living in America you still weren’t used to the heat. You wiped your head and look out at the car park. Norman was stood next to you car waiting. You saw this guy everyday but still you felt sick with how much you liked him. But he was a Hollywood star so there was no way he’d like you.

You walked past the cast and crew. The cast kept shouting “See you later” If the sweaty awkward car journey wasn’t enough you were going to your first ever red carpet event. The thought of all those famous people made you excited and ill at the same time.

You approached the car and he smiled at you. You could feel the sweat building on your hands. Andy went towards the drivers door.

“Erm I’m driving.” You said to him.

He scoffed a little “No.. no.. I hate your driving.”

“Tough shit bro. My car, I’m driving.”

“You two have so much love.” Norman laughed at you.

You all climbed in. Your brother got in the back so he wouldn’t have to look at the road while you drove. You stuck the keys in the ignition, turned up Radar Love by Golden Earring and put it in gear.

“Oh god.” You heard him moan in the back as he shut his eyes.

You reversed full speed straight out the car park and on the road. Norman just laughed, he was the only person you had met that loved your driving. You drove down the road singing away with him. It was actually really nice and comfortable. You took it in turns to chose a song, while Andy in the back was, you think, praying he lived.

Finally you reached your apartment and did a hand break turn into your spot. Just to fuck with Andy a little more. He leapt out the car and shouted “I’m free! I’m alive!”

“Pipe down you gret baby.”

Norman looked at you and smiled “Right, so I’ll see you tonight.” He gave you a slight hug and walked towards his place. It was only 2 streets away.

Andy raised his eyebrows “Tonight might be the night.”

“Shut up. I will punch you.”

After a few hours you were ready to go. Your stomach kept on turning over and over. You smoothed down your dress and took one last look at yourself. You were so used to wearing shorts, vest and doc martens. But your reflection showed you standing there with a beautiful black high-low dress that surrounded you like a beautiful ball gown, it a had stunning velvet pattern all over it also in black. You wore black shiny stilettos and a gorgeous clutch bag to match. Your face was painted perfectly and your hair flowed down wavey past your shoulders, unlock the usually messy platts and pony tails you had at work. Andy called your name because the car had arrived. You finished your glass of rum and coke you had to calm you down and walked into the hall way to meet him.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m looking for my sister.” He smiled at you.

“Hey. Shut it. I’m so nervous.”

“I’m joking, honestly I don’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful and you know how beautiful you are.”

You tilted your head “You have to say that. You’re my brother.”

You both left the house and climbed in the Lamborghini Adventadour he had hired for the night, just for you. You climbed in the passenger seat taking deep breaths. This whole night just seemed like a dream.
He grabbed hold of your hand “Look it’s all going to be fine and we need you there if we win the award for best makeup. I mean your in charge of that. We wouldn’t have even the option of that award if it wasn’t for you.”
“Alright speak boy. Let’s go” you laughed when really all you wanted was 10 cigarettes and all the shots.

Pulling up you could hear screams and shouting and god knows what else. “I really hope i don’t throw up on the red carpet.”

“Yeahhh, not smooth and don’t fall over. I know you.”

The car doors opened and you stepped out, instant flashes filled your eyes overwhelming you. “Fucking hell”

“Don’t swear at people.” He whispered to you.

Walking slowly down the red carpet following your brother closely you didn’t want to talk to anyone. They wanted to talk to the star of walking dead. Not you.
Then you heard a reporter say something to him “We all have to know who is this stunning woman you have with you? She is beautiful.”

He pulled you closer to him where people started taking your photo and asking for your name “This is y/N, my sister.”

They all kept shouting your name but Andy pulled you away. “This is madness” you whispered to him.

An arm on your shoulder made you jump, it was Norman. “How you holding up?” he said in your ear.

“Okay, a little dizzy though. I might go blind from the flashes.” By then you had just realised he had his arm around your waist whole everyone was taking your photo.

“It gets okay after a while. Stick with me and you’ll get used to it.”

The three of you walked into the building. It was pandemonium, celebrities everywhere you looked. People like Idris Elba and Corey Micael Smith introduced themselves like it was nothing. Slowly you felt yourself start to sweat.

Norman grabbed hold of your hand as he saw you were starting to get lost in the moment. He didn’t want you wandering off alone.

Finally you sat at your table, it was nice to be with Lauren, Steven, Chandler, Jeffery, Dania and Melissa. Friendly faces you could calmly talk to. You were in between your brother and Lauren. Norman sat directly opposite you which meant you couldn’t help but keep getting eye contact.

The awards were being announced one after another, it was getting close and closer to yours. You started to sweat again, you were starting to think you may have a problem.

A big voice pulled you from the conversation you and Lauren were having “Now the award for best television special effects makeup. The nominees are: Game of Thrones, Gotham and The Walking Dead.”

Your heart was pounding. You needed this so badly, it was your life’s work being presented to millions and it was up for an award.

“The winner is…..”

‘Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.’ You repeated in your head over and over.

“…. The Walking Dead!”

Your heart jumped. This was the best day of your life. The producer Frank stood up to collect the award. He looked out to the front where you all sat. “This is amazing. But I’m not going to say much because if it weren’t for our head on makeup this would never have happened. I really want this award to be presented to Y/N Lincoln. The real woman behind the horror and gore. Come up here sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened. Andy pushed you to stand. You felt so nervous you couldn’t even feel your self walking in to stage it was like your whole body was numb. He passed you the award, kissed you on the cheek and whispered “Good job.”

You stood at the mike and looked down at the cast sat like a little family. “This is.. wow.. erm thank you so much. This means more to me than you could all ever imagine. All the cast and crew and my amazing makeup crew made this happen and I just.. wow thank you all. It’s hasn’t been an easy street,” the cameras panned to Norman shaking his head and laughing “but we did it. I love you all so much. Did I say thank you?” everyone laughed and clapped as you walked off stage. You felt like you were on a cloud.

You sat down beaming with happiness Everyone congratulated you.

“Hey, you didn’t swear either.” You just rolled your eyes at Jeffery in response.


After it was all over there was an after party at Michael Rookers house. You couldn’t believe that you were invited. Everything just didn’t seem to be real. You eventually got through all the chaos of people shouting your name and taking your photo. You got in the car and Andy followed Norman.

“I’m so proud of you.” He said while driving.
You still hadn’t stopped smiling “I just can’t believe it. Like I know you this is normal to you but Jesus this is just something else.”
“Well they loved you.. so get used to it.”

You reached the house, it was beautiful. Even though you were friends back when he was on the show you hadn’t actually been to his place.

As soon as you walked in he ran to hug you “Hey sugar plum! How you been?”

You squeezed him tight “Oh I’ve missed you.”

He waved the three of you into the house. Celebrities left right and centre, it was all taking you a little off guard.

“Hi.” A voice from behind you made you jump. It was Corey Smith “We met earlier.”

“Oh yeah. Hi, having a good night?”

“Amazing thank you. Would you like to get a drink?”

Your eyes nearly shot out your head “Wow. Yeah of course!” your brother raised his eyebrows at you as you walked away.

Conversation was flowing between you and Corey. You spoke about work, his girlfriend, comics. It was nice to be able to chat with someone without being all panicky.

“Congratulations by the way.” He said.

“Oh god, thank you. You too, I mean best TV villain. That’s amazing.”

“y/N!” Lauren interrupted you both “Sorry but you have to come see this.”

You followed her into Michael’s living room which was about the size of your whole apartment. A few people were stood around the telly. You moved through them all and watched it.

“And the name on everyone’s lips tonight is y/n Lincoln! Who is this girl? Will we see more of her?”

You felt your face flush red. You were actually famous.

The TV carried on “I’m not sure where this girl has come from but I can say I hope we see her on our screens real soon. There’s a petition going on face book to get this girl in the walking dead. Let’s hope it happens.”

The room started cheering. You turned to hug the closest person to you which happened to be Corey. Everyone came to congratulate you. You turned to your brother, face beaming with happiness.
Your smile faded when you couldn’t see Norman “Where is He?” you asked Andy.

“He just left.”

You frowned “why? Was he not happy for me?”

He shook his head and then nodded towards Corey.

“What? I’ve been talking to him about work and his girlfriend.”

“You seemed pretty close.”

You downed your drink and turned to Michael “I’m sorry but I’ve got to go.”

“Awh what. Come on stay sugar plum.”

You raised your eyebrows at him “Sugar plum isn’t going to work this time. I gotta go tell someone I love them.”

Idiot (Peter Parker x Sister!Reader)

Originally posted by teamunderoos

(CACW) Peter Parker x Sister!Reader

could you do a one-shot with Peter Parker, where you’re his fraternal/dizygotic twin, and when Tony comes to visit him, you’re there before Peter comes home from school and you’re jsut really sassy and funny and stuff and when he comes back you follow him and tony to his room (Because you already know he’s spider-man) and he’s all nervous and stuttery because of Tony and your just standing there like “Dude, this is THE Tony Stark, stop being an idiot” and Tony takes a liking to you because you’re so sassy

I’m so sorry, this took so long and I’m sorry for making you wait. But I found this request really interesting. Hope you guys enjoy!

“Brother!” you yelled, running loudly through the hallway. “Where are you?” The pictures hanging on the walls rattled from your loud voice. You thumped your feet loudly down the stairs, knowing that that would piss off your brother. You hopped off the last three steps, crashing noisily on your feet. You huffed, crossing your arms. Your science paper was due in three days, and you needed your nerdy twin to ‘help’ you out. Meaning, making Peter write most of your essay for you.

Keep reading

A Twist of Fate 3/21 (Diavolos/Kenna AU)

Chapter One Chapter Two

A Twist of Fate
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine. I’m just borrowing them for a little while and will return them unharmed.

Summary- Diavolos and Kenna react to each other’s presence.

Rating- PG-13

Words- 1806

Chapter Three

Kenna glanced over at Val and Jackson to see if either of them recognized Diavolos, but there was nothing unusual about their expressions. Of course, they had only seen him from across the room and that night probably wasn’t as memorable for them as it was for her.

Kenna invited Diavolos to take a seat with a polite smile and focused on the conversation at hand, but her mind was racing.

Diavolos was the man from the tavern? Her first thought was that Leon was right, she’d taken an incredible risk that night. She’d bedded Luther’s son. If he had guessed who she was…

But he hadn’t, she reminded herself. He hadn’t harmed a hair on her head, on the contrary, he had been a very considerate and generous lover.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s dispense with the small talk and idle nonsense.” Luther declared and Kenna forced herself to focus on him. “We’re trying to win a war.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

are you writing for the sterek valentines meme? if yes please ♥ write me

“So,” Stiles zips up his bag and turns to give Derek a bracing smile, “You gonna miss me?”

Derek snorts from where he’s standing opposite Stiles, “You wish.”

“Hell yeah, I do! I earned you pining after my awesome friendship, dude. Remember our first year? You wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone, and now,” Stiles waves his hands around their small dorm room, “You got a whole host of pals.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call Boyd and Erica a host.”

“Small in numbers, but big on the heart,” Stiles pats his own, wiggles his eyebrows. “Did you ever think we’d get so deep at space camp?”

“Sure,” Derek smirks at him, picks up his own bag slowly, “All those nights you talked my ear off about how this year’s gonna be your year with that Lydia Martin; so deep.”

“Shut up! It is gonna be my year, dude. I’m sixteen, now. I’m practically a man.”

There’s a beat, and Derek’s small smile breaks into a grin, “Practically.”

Keep reading