he's a sir in my heart

Omg

So i was at the mall with my grandmother ( Japanese grandmother) and we went in the shoe store! So I was waiting for her to pick out shoes until she went to register and the person ( I think he was a female before) that was working there was like dressed up and looked more and acted like a male. But on his name tag was a more female name. And my grandmother asked “. Hello! I’m sorry but would you rather be noticed and called sir or m'am?” She said in a really nice way to and the worked said “ sir please ” so then my grandmother nodded and they were chatting for a while! So my grandma got her shoes and said “ goodbye sir!” And damn he had the happiest smile.
So then we were walking out the mall and she said “ I think that man had a beautiful and kind heart and soul.”

Gosh I love her :,) and I loved the look on that workers face.

I have another story too :,)

100 Prompts That Will Make You Cry: Part 1

Unfortunately, my amigos, we managed to come up with 100 prompts. Here’s part 1:

  1. You’re a ghost haunting your own funeral. You see that nobody showed up.
  2. What are these strangers doing in your house? You’re confused and angry, it’s been a week and it seems like they’re not leaving, they’re not even paying attention to you. You’re the ghost haunting your house without knowing it.
  3. A single man and dog run the Iditarod only to show up with the medicine for his daughter too late. This is his story.
  4. You fight for a noble cause. You complete all the necessary steps. You reach the top of the world doing good deeds to improve peoples lives. It’s your first day of retirement and you watch your hard work comes undone before your eyes.
  5. “You can’t understand how it is to feel this worthless. I just want it all to go away! I want it all to STOP!”
  6. Despite everything they did, everything they went through. It was made clear that their attempts were pointless, as they were too late to save them.
  7. The only thing left for you to do was to leave forever
  8. You didn’t visit your parent figure in hospital the day before they passed away because you wanted to finish your homework. Less than 24 hours later, you get a message from your sibling. “They passed away this morning.”
  9. No matter how hard you try, they just laugh at you. You are a joke, a game, you don’t matter. You’ve had enough.
  10. “Robert, you can’t just leave! There are fifty kids waiting for you! You promised you’d get us out alive. You told them so!” “No, darling, I promised I’d get us out alive. Us, being me and my 500 grand. Thanks for your help, by the way. Sorry about the boiled alive thing. Chao!”
  11. Why did you leave me? It’s been 15 years. Why did you leave? I can’t just accept the fact that you showed up on my doorstep expecting an apology. I have a family now. And I can’t let you pull me into your problems.
  12. Your school, company, or organisation has required you to go to therapy for a potentially traumatic incident. This is the session when you decide to tell the story of becoming estranged from your last living relative.
  13. You can only watch the live news helplessly as, thousands of miles away, an tsunami happens in the country your best friend happens to be visiting
  14. “My head is full of you but my arms are empty.”
  15. Best Friends Forever", we used to say. But now we aren’t even talking anymore. When I see them anywhere, another person is by their side, a new best friend. And I, I am all alone.
  16. Person A shares something that no one knew about them and it is very personal and then they get outcasted by their family and person B is the only one to support them as they cry.
  17. The fire was pretty, swirling in shades of blue and green and purple, if you could ignore the fact it was destroying the planet.
  18. A crying child in the hospital bed looks to you for answers. She wants to know where her mommy is. You have no answer.
  19. “I cannot take it anymore, Sam. You don’t tell me anything, you’ve been disappearing for hours, you have phone calls you don’t want me to hear, and now you forgot our anniversary. I’m done being patient. I have packed my things, you can keep the car and the house. Goodbye.” A small box fell out of his fingers, and a ring with a diamond shining merrily on the band rolled away, as the phone stopped playing out the voicemail.
  20. You unlock your phone, and, ignoring the shaking of your hand, answer the call. “Hey” you say, not even trying to compress the wound, too far gone as you already are, “no, i’m fine. I’ll be with you in a minute or two…”
  21. I knew it would be there, I saved for this special occasion. It was my deserved reward after a shitty day and it was gone. The cupcake was gone.
  22. it was finally summer, his favorite season. He sat up in his bed and told you all about what he did last year. He rode his bike everywhere, he played so many games with his friends, he swam in the town park pool… you were the doctor, and you had come in to bring his parents out of the room to talk to them about how the cancer had spread unexpectedly.
  23. You’ve just had an unpleasant lunch with your family and one of your siblings has just told you that you’ve been horrible the entire meal. What now?
  24. Your mom starts crying
  25. you walk down the street and you see a familiar face. Your heart starts beating faster and you speed up, because Gosh, you haven’t seen them in the longest time, but then as you are about to reach them and scream their name, you suddenly stop because remember that it can’t be them because you’re now on the other side of the world, and you left the person you love far away….
  26. It’s your grandfather’ funeral. The place is packed, he was loved by so many. Then, a small child puts a cup of coffee by his ashes.. (“Have this grandpa, it’s time to wake up”)
  27. The person you love has to be killed in order to save other people. Their death guarantees the others’ safety and it is the right thing to do, and they want to do it, but you have to kill them. So you do.
  28. you have the power to bring back the dead. You quickly realize that this comes with draw-backs since certain parts of them stay dead. someone close to you had an accident and this is the most difficult decision of your life.
  29. the smallest coffins are the heaviest.
  30. Her answer is to gently cup your face with trembling hands. Her smile is gentle and so, so sad. Her breathy whisper reaches your ears, “because love is watching someone die,” and shatters your world.
  31. It had always been her. From the first day you saw her, you knew that she was the one, the one you wanted to spend your entire life with. Day by day, that future became a little more solid, a little more opaque. Until you watched it shrivel, collapse and die when strangers pulled a frail, familiar body out of the wreck.
  32. you wake up to silence, except for the sound of quiet sobbing and a set of packed suitcases in the hall.
  33. “I’m going to… take a nap… just for a minute. I’ll be… right back.” He lies down just where he sat. “Could you… hold my hand?”, he asks of her. She moves carefully around the table, as not to disrupt the game that they will certainly continue. He rests his head on her knees. “Are you there?”, he asks. “Yes, I’m here.” He holds her hand tighter. “Are you there?”, he asks, slowly his voice getting quieter and weaker….
  34. You and your family were in a car crash. You think you’ve survived but in the hospital you found you’ve died and you watch your parents, your SO, your children and your friends mourn. You don’t leave earth. You remain there watching over your loved ones, but when they die, they don’t join you. You are by yourself forever.
  35. Driving home, you hit something. Getting out, you realize it’s your pet who went missing a few months ago
  36. Using the word ‘almost’ is the most melancholic way to describe an upsetting moment. She almost got there in time. He almost caught her. She almost told her. They almost made it.
  37. You realise animals no longer acknowledge your existence. They can’t seem to see or hear you. Your best friend is your dog.
  38. “I’ll never be perfect in my parents’ eyes no matter what I do.”
  39. When you were 7, you were kidnapped when for 15 years. At the age of 22, you are finally rescued. Write about your time held in captivity and what it was like when you were saved.
  40. Time and time again, the prompt guy refuses my Danny DeVito suggestions
  41. “You’re the worst teacher I ever had, but I don’t want you to leave, because you were also the best, in a way.”
  42. after always feeling like you were never wanted around, someone decided to tell you how you felt is exactly right. and now you have a fire in your heart you’ve decided to do something about it.
  43. He was supposed to protect me. Instead he became the one I needed protection from.
  44. “We’ll be finally be able to be together. Just one more year. Then we can finally be happy.” That was the last thing you said to your lover before going back off to war. Now you find yourself in an empty house, holding one last letter addressed to you and the memories of a lifetime of unfulfilled promises.
  45. I’m not sure which was worse: keeping it a secret for so many years, or the look on my mom’s face when I told her.
  46. you moved in a new town a few months ago. One of your friend tells you that he heard your best friend say “There’s no point staying in touch, we won’t see each other ever again.”
  47. “I’m sorry sir, but we’re all out of chicken nuggets.”
  48. You are a stray dog. Your master lost you 3 years ago. You go on an epic and heart-filled journey to find your master, not knowing that they are already dead.
  49. It was the first time your parents said the word proud in relation to you, but you could just feel that was nothing more than a backhanded compliment. It only made you feel terrible.
  50. After five years, they were finally back together. But time had torn them apart and as much as they tried, they were unable to love each other again.
  51. The dark and dreary realisation finally hit you: You’re the one in the coffin. This is your funeral. All these people are upset and crying over you.
  52. The war had been ravaging the country for years. You fought for your country, you shed your blood, you did your part. And yet a mistake is going to be your undoing. Write your last letter before your execution to a daughter you will never come back to.
  53. Your siblings played a game with you, it was called “Who can ignore you the most”. But it’s okay, you knew they love you, because there was still food on the table, and bedtime was still shared in the same room. It’s been years, you’re in the worst time of your life now, and you feel the need to reach out for help. You hope the game is over by now.
  54. You’ve been messaging someone online for years now, chatting with them about this and that every so often. They stopped logging on a month ago. You have no way of knowing if they’re okay, and can only watch and wait for a reply.
  55. You read a late familiar’s diary from decades ago. You knew nothing about them before this moment.Their insight in life is what you need to solve your problems, and your insight could have helped save their life.
  56. “I am so tired.” She whispered to him, inches away from jumping of that bridge.
  57. Every time your father leaves for work, you wonder if he’s going to die. You make sure to say “i love you” every day before he goes, but one day you forget…
  58. you’re the last member of your species, your culture, your language. Scientists are around you, waiting for every bit that you can share, for them to document. They don’t care about you. Although you’re surrounded by people, you’re alone.
  59. your idol, a vegetarian, was forcefully fed a hotdog
  60. Write about the small and big sacrifices mothers make for their children.
  61. You are trapped in a “coma” can hear everything around you, including friends and family coming to say goodbye before your life-support is taken away due to lack of insurance. They can’t prove you aren’t brain dead. You can’t say goodbye back.
  62. “The monsters won’t come and hurt me will they daddy?” “As long as I’m around,” he said, giving you a goodnight kiss. “No one will ever hurt you.” “You’ll come home right? Promise?” “I Promise.” But he failed to keep his promise. He never came home and the monsters got you after all.
  63. Tell the story of someone who goes about daily life, well, tries to anyway. It’s hard for them because they had severe depression. Tell of their struggles and trials. But also tell of their successes.
  64. For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never worn.
  65. you’re the last person in the world and you just lost hope for finding anyone else
  66. You went on a great quest with your friends. You slayed monsters together, fended off enemies, and overcame all challenges that came your way. However, your friends perished at the final boss. You’ve just defeated him, and the reality is sinking in.
  67. You are the new Death. The torch has been passed down to you for reasons you don’t know. It is now your job to take the lives of those whose time is up, old or young. Are you prepared to do it? And why were you chosen?
  68. You have become immortal through a game that destroyed your universe. You and and your friends recreated the universe. You remember, they do not. The big bad from the game haunts your dreams.
  69. You wake up and smell something burning. You think someone is making breakfast. You get up to see your house is on fire and you’re the only survivor.
  70. As the crowd around you cheers for your brother’s assassin, you hold him in your arms as you watch his life fade. He was the most hated man in the world, a brutal dictator, a tyrant worse than your father ever was. He was the very kind of man who you hated yourself. Yet you’re crying, looking down upon his smiling face as he watches the crowd and his killer in his final moments, because in the end this was what he promised you. He promised to make a world where no one would have to fight anymore, where there can be peace. And now that the most hated man is dead, there can be.
  71. After a long fulfilling life, you find yourself in the past, at the lowest point of your life. Your family is gone, your friends don’t know who you are, and you’re left with nothing. What do you do?
  72. there’s no pizza in the fridge
  73. You love children and plan to have some one day, until you find out at a doctors appointment that you are infertile…
  74. It’s the effort that counts but it’s the result that’s remembered. Write a story about someone who spent years devoted to their passion but their efforts remain unrecognised, unappreciated because they were ultimately unsuccessful, even after death.
  75. “…you never really loved me, did you.” and the silence said it all
  76. you are a dog going into the vet. You have no idea why your owner is crying. You have no idea that it’s your last visit.
  77. Your parents just told you that they’re getting a divorce.
  78. Your best friend/SO has wronged the gods and has 24 hours to live. You can trade your life for theirs by putting your essence by the mercy of the gods. What do you do?
  79. he spat angrily as he raised what remained of his son “I NEVER LOVED YOU”
  80. write a story where you build up to one character’s death. In the end, that character survives, but another character dies instead.
  81. You are a time traveler, but you never knew it. The only time you successfully did it was when you were a baby, and you’ve grown up a long time away from your original life. One day, you find a shrine… Dedicated to you, by your original family.
  82. You sat across from them at the table, and realized that you had both run out of things to say to each other.
  83. Write a story about an adventurous character who somehow survives all the trouble they get into. These are the memories of an old person, as they remember what they did, with a week of less left before their last breath.
  84. Everyone else had moved on further. You have missed your opportunity to move along with them, and you are the only one left behind in the gray lands. All because of your most annoying habit
  85. “But I rescued you from-” “You killed the dragon! You killed my best friend!”
  86. When you were little, you lost your parents in a house fire. Now, you’ve found out that you have the power to control fire, and are starting to suspect that the fire that killed your parents wasn’t a cooking accident after all..
  87. You spent the past 10 minutes walking back and forth from the lobby to the dance floor in search of them, worrying your ass off. They finally decide to come out and they curse at you for ruining their night.
  88. It was horrible, a pain unbearable to you, the feeling of your soulmate breaking down. The person you once loved, now shattered and scarred from trauma. The worst of part of it, you were helpless. All you could do was sit and watch, but you’d get your revenge. On Death himself.
  89. Your maths teacher gives you a school detention despite the fact that you are 110% innocent of everything you’ve been accused of.   You are forced to stare at a wall for half an hour in silence to think about ‘what you’ve done.’  What happens now?
  90. You confess to your parents about your depression and suicidal thoughts, but they just shrug it off as you being over dramatic. Months later and the sight of your parents still hurts you deep inside, because they never understood you.
  91. You’re in love with your coworker, who’s married and has two kids. He’s quitting job today. He tells you that he loves you.
  92. You’re in a room full of onions.
  93. You’re just about to start your period and you’ve been craving Chinese food all week. You finally get said Chinese food, get home, pull it out of the bag and drop it. You start scream-crying, and your family runs into the room to check on you. What happens next?
  94. Your daughter has been bullied ever since she’s started school due to the fact that you aren’t the richest of families in a pretty nice neighborhood. When she begs you to buy her a doll everybody likes, you know you won’t be able to afford it.
  95. You hide in your room and clutch a pillow, listening to the abusive language your family members through at each other. You hear your youngest sibling being physically abused again, and his screams echo throughout the house.
  96. “We found cancerous tissue. I’m sorry.” “What a way to start my first day of college.” (comment: this actually happened to me, I was diagnosed with cancer my first day of college)
  97. An old man is on his death bed, riddled with dementia.  Volunteering for the elderly with no family left, you visit, but he mistakes you for son or daughter.
  98. I looked in the mirror and realized who was staring back. It was someone I wasn’t content with.
  99. Write a story through the perspective of an abused cat on their 9th life.
  100. Tell a story about a person who never appears in photographs because they were always behind the camera, looking wistfully at everyone’s smiling faces. It is only after they’re long gone that someone finally notices. Old memories are brought up.
Misguided (M)

Originally posted by y-ta

SUMMARY: After a run in with one of Johnny’s fellow frat brothers, you had thought he had just been after one thing. But when, not only Johnny himself, but with the help of your friends, they helped you realize that you had made some very misguided judgments. // “What tastes better than it smells?”

GENRE/WARNINGS: Fraternity/College!AU // It’s honestly mostly fluff with smut thrown in at the end. This is part of a collab with @versigny and a bunch of other writers. You can read the prologue here.

WORDS: 14.5k.

A/N: I died 3x over writing this. That is all.

Keep reading

Not-Date

Pairings: T’Challa x F!Reader, Tony x Science

Request:

hi can you write something that the reader is watching harry potter WITH tchalla in secret and EVERYONE finds out and ship it - and then tchalla confess his love for her in a harry potter way like “muggle in the streets but a wizard in the sheets” PLEASE, I LOVE YOU i know that is a little cliché BUT t'challa is everything to me meow 😻 BYE 😺 


Bucky has created a chatroom.

Bucky has invited Y/N.

Bucky: Tell Thor to hand over Mjolnir!

Sam has joined the chat.

Sam: I WANT HIS CAPE, Y/N.

Thor has joined the chat.

Thor: Lady Y/N, please save me from these men!

Bucky: GIVE IT

Sam: GIVEEEEEEE

Thor: Absolutely not!

Bucky: Scared I might actually be worthy? Maybe I can lift Mjolnir. Since my hand is no longer organic, maybe the elevator rule applies to me.

Sam: Damn, I’ve never thought about that.

Thor: That is nonsense!

Sam: Can I have your cape now?

Thor: Why do you want it?!

Sam: it is warm, i am cold.

Keep reading

Red (Negan x Female)

Summary: Her boyfriend hates when she wears lipstick, but Negan doesn’t mind a little red…

Characters: Negan x Female 

Word Count: 3,081

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, and Swearing

Author’s Note: Ohhhh boyyyy. So I wrote this for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s new writing challenge. I know it’s not due for a while, but I’ve had the idea in my head for weeks and wanted to get it out while it’s fresh. I hope you guys enjoy!

Please let me know what you think! You can message me anytime! I LOVE feedback!

Big thank you to @ashzombie13 for being my beta reader and giving me such wonderful feedback. You’re the best.

Keep reading

thenworld  asked:

may I ask why your relationship with the pride & prejudice (2005) is complex? I love hearing people's opinions about the movie

Now, I do not hold any sort of beef or dislike anyone who prefers the 2005 adaptation over any other adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Partly because everyone’s preference is unique, and mostly because I’m not a massive head of a dick.

My relationship with the 2005 film is complex because there are three parts of me whenever I watch a film.

The director and the writer and the fan.

The director likes the film very much. She adores the editing, how the scenes are lit, how Marianelli’s music so perfectly moves the scenes along and evokes the feelings of the characters, the costumes, the acting. The little touches and production details, she is particularly fond of.

The writer finds the film to be rather middle-of-the-road. There’s good writing in there, wit and some good ideas. (Whoever came up with the idea of Elizabeth and Darcy’s first touch coming through him helping her into the carriage needs to get an award, because so much subtext and the writer lurves subtext.) But she finds that sometimes, the writing is a bit too modern and it doesn’t really properly evoke the Regency era for her as other adaptations have done in the past.

The fan hates some of the changes. The alternative ending shall not be spoken of, for one. Another severely dislikes the overly giggly nature of Elizabeth Bennet. Kiera Knightley is a very good actress, but Elizabeth was always meant to be, for the fan, a bit more serious. Inclined to laugh, obviously, but grounded. Lydia is flighty, flirting without thought for the effect it has on the rest of her family. Elizabeth however, is proud and therefore, pragmatic. By making Lizzy more giggly, zipping about making sarcastic comments, it just makes the film lack a bit of gravitas.

Putting all that together, basically I find that though a beautifully made film, the 2005 adaptation is just too fluffy and too on the nose. I understand that it’s a film and therefore changes have to be made to fit everything into 2 hours, but it misses the mark on a lot, and that makes it, as I said, fluffy. I want some sharpness to my P&P, you know?

Take the 1995 adaptation. I know it’s talky, a bit stagey and a bit stiff in some places but it lies deep in my heart, embedded there for always. Everyone talks about Darcy and Elizabeth being in the thundering rain in the 2005 film and I’ll be honest, that is a fantastic scene with that almost kiss but 1995, HOLY HELL. THIS REQUIRES EXTENDED CAPSLOCK BECAUSE ELIZABETH BENNET LIT UP BY SUNSHINE AS SHE TEARS FITZWILLIAM DARCY, OWNER OF THE PEMBERLEY ESTATE AND EARNER OF 10 GRAND A YEAR,  A NEW ONE.

LOOK AT DARCY.

HE’S REHEARSED THAT SPEECH. YOU KNOW HE HAS. TEN TIMES, OVER AND OVER, IN FRONT OF HIS BATHROOM MIRROR. HIS VALET’S ALL, ‘THE GREEN WAISTCOAT OR THE WHITE, SIR?’ AND DARCY’S JUST LIKE, ‘YOU MUST ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU HOW ARDENTLY I ADMIRE AND LOVE YOU’ AND THE VALET’S ALL ‘UMMMM THIS IS NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR’ (and yes that is a Blackadder Goes Forth reference, what)

ANYWAY. HE SAYS THIS SHIT TO ELIZABETH.

‘YEP, I’LL IMPLY THAT SHE’S SHIT POOR AND IT’LL BE EMBARRASSING FOR ME TO MARRY HER, SHE’S SO GONNA SAY YES RIGHT NOW, GOOD ONE DARCY.’

MEANWHILE LIZZY’S RAGE IS GENTLY SIMMERING IN A POT OF ‘I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS.’

THEN, WHEN DARCY’S ALL TALKED OUT, THIS LOOK AND THESE WORDS. AS LIZZY PREPARES TO GIVE THIS FUCKSTICK THE BURN OF HIS LIFE. 

THAT IS A LOOK WHICH TELLS YOU SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN.

AND DARCY. HE KNOWS HE’S ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. LOOK AT THIS, AND DON’T TELL ME THAT ISN’T THE FACE OF A MAN WHO’S JUST PROCESSED THE WORDS HE’S JUST HEARD AND KNOWS DEEP DOWN HE’S ABOUT TO GET KICKED OUT OF THE BACK DOOR ONTO HIS FACE.

IN FACT, DARCY’S REACTIONS AS SHE TEARS INTO HIM IS A THING OF BEAUTY.

‘THIS IS… NOT GOING THE WAY I PLANNED’

‘THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT GOING THE WAY I PLANNED’

‘OKAY BUT SHE HASN’T TECHNICALLY SAID NO YET, I MAY BE IN WITH A CHANCE’ 

BUT THEN

‘OH SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT THE SISTER’

‘WAIT HOW DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT BINGLEY’

‘DAMN YOU FITZWILLIAM’

‘ALRIGHT FUCK IT, I DID FUCK UP YOUR SISTER’S HAPPINESS SO WHAT’

THEN LIZZY BRINGS UP WICKHAM

‘UGH FUCKING WICKHAM WHY DO WE ALWAYS HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THAT DUDE’

BUT LIZZY CONTINUES AND DARCY REALISES THIS IS ABOUT MORE THAN BASTARD WICKHAM

‘OKAY NO, I HAVE ACTUALLY SEVERELY FUCKED UP’

SO HE TURNS ON HER

‘WELL YOU’RE POOR AND YOUR FAMILY IS SHIT SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO THAT HUH

THEN LIZZY TURNS BACK TO HIM WITH THIS LOOK.

AND DARCY’S REACTION.

THAT NIGGLING THOUGHT HE HAD DEEP DOWN THAT HE WAS FUCKED – THAT HAS JUST COME LOOMING UP TO THE FOREGROUND, WAVING A FLAG WHICH HAS THE WORDS ‘WE ARE DOOMED’ SPLAYED ACROSS IT IN ELEGANT REGENCY FONT

BUT LIZZY AIN’T FINISHED YET

BEAUTIFUL SUMMER SHINESHINE IS POURING THROUGH THOSE WINDOWS, BIRDS ARE MOST LIKELY TWEETING, THE LEAVES ON THE TREES ARE BURSTING GREEN AND LIZZY IS THROWING EVERY WORD OF HER REJECTION OF DARCY AT HIM LIKE THEY’RE NINJA THROWING STARS OR SOME SUCH SHIT

LOOK AT THAT LOOK. THAT IS THE LOOK THAT PUTS FLESH ON MY BONES, BEATS IN MY HEART, AIR IN MY LUNGS AND FOOD IN MY BELLY.

AND WHAT’S HIS REACTION? WHAT’S THIS FUCKER’S REACTION TO THE MOST SAVAGE REJECTION HE’S POSSIBLY EVER HAD IN HIS LIFE? AS A WOMAN, LIZZY HAS VERY FEW OPTIONS IN THIS ERA. HE COULD RUIN ALL OF THOSE OPTIONS, RUIN HER, BY HEADING OUT OF THERE AND TELLING EVERYONE HE MEETS ‘DON’T GO FOR THAT ELIZABETH BENNET SHE’S RUDE AND UNGRATEFUL AND THE WORST KIND OF WOMAN’ BUT—

HE LEAVES. THIS UTTER WANKER APOLOGISES FOR TAKING UP HER TIME AND NOBLY, QUIETLY, LEAVES, NOT FORGETTING TO WISH HER WELL BEFORE HE GOES.

And suddenly, that’s a glimmer of the good behind the pompous arsehole. He listens to Lizzy’s rejection, savage and filled with truth, and he writes a letter to her in response. 

How very fucking British.

And precisely why my relationship with the 2005 film is so complex.

On History and Pie

Summary:  A nonathletic!Jack fic, where grad student and history nerd, Jack Zimmermann meets the cute Samwell student/baker Eric Bittle at the Bread and Butter Bakery.  Will the two make a love connection?  For @devereauxsdisease and @victorineb who love this incarnation of Jack as much as I do.

Originally posted by butteryplanet


They’d chatted at the bakery enough times that Bitty was able to pull the information from Jack. He’d started coming to the bakery about four weeks ago, and during that time Bitty became more and more charmed with the second year grad student.

He always sat in the corner armchair, ordered a black coffee, two macarons and a slice of whatever the pie of the day was. Bitty first noticed him when he came in to order a slice of Weary Willie cake.

Bitty loved his job at the bakery, it gave him some extra cash while he attended Samwell. Whenever Bitty was there, he was the de facto person in charge. Shirley and Spencer, the owners of Bread and Butter adored Bitty.

“We never had any kids of our own, so you’re the closest thing to it, Bitty,” Shirley said to him one evening over a cup of earl grey tea.

So Bitty stood there, face to face with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen the first time Jack walked in. The Clark Kent glasses in front of them did nothing to hide the fact that they were beautiful. It was a good face, a handsome face. He was burly and tall, and Bitty loved that. He smiled, and Bitty’s body language invited Blue Eyes to speak.

“Can I get a slice of the Weary Willie cake?”

“Sure can, handsome,” Bitty said as he began to ring up Blue Eyes’ order, who blushed furiously. “What else can I do you for?”

“Coffee. Black. Medium, please,” he replied looking down at the counter.

“Why don’t you go find yourself a seat and I’ll bring it out to you,” Bitty said with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Blue Eyes said softly and then turned to walk toward the corner armchair.

When Bitty approached, Blue Eyes had pulled out a laptop and several textbooks, the one on top of the pile was called Foundations of Modern European Intellectual History.

“Doing a little light reading, huh?” Bitty said as he put the cake and coffee on the side table.

“Oh, haha. Yes.”

“Do you go to Samwell?”

“I’m finishing up my masters in history there,” he said as he held up his book.

“That’s great. I haven’t seen you here before,” Bitty said wanting to know more about History Blue Eyes.

“I saw the chalkboard outside listing the Weary Willie cake and the history nerd in me became curious.”

“Look at you! You certainly are a history major.”

“Did you make the cake?” Jack asked raising his eyebrows.

“Sure did. My moomaw had the recipe from her mama.”

“Well, it’s not often I find a somewhat obscure historical reference on my way back to the history building.” 

Keep reading

Pride and Prejudice, and Consent

Time to cleanse the palate with a bit of positive relationship analysis!

One of the tropes that plagues, and has plagued, romance fiction ever since the invention of the novel is the idea of female consent not being necessary as long as the male is desirable and/or really wants her. Often, the heroine will succumb either to her own desires or his, whether she is entirely willing to do so or not, and that is framed as being analogous with passion—even love.

Well, two hundred years before Fifty Shades of Grey played fast and loose with consent issues, I present to you the antithesis of this trope in Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice, receives two proposals of marriage that are eerily similar, despite the outward differences of her two suitors. Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy both spring unexpected and unwelcome proposals of marriage on her, calling to light her family’s lack of financial security and connection, seeing themselves as condescending to offer for her, and being completely perplexed by her refusal to accept them.

Elizabeth to Collins: You could not make me happy, and I am convinced I am the last woman in the world who would make you so.

Elizabeth to Darcy: I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.“

Elizabeth’s words leave no ambiguity for either gentleman: she soundly rejects them both in a similar fashion. From this, readers may infer that since Darcy and Elizabeth end up together, it is Darcy who is persistent in his romantic intentions after Elizabeth has said “no.” But in fact, it is Collins who refuses to take no for an answer, and Darcy who never oversteps his bounds.

The first thing Collins says after he hears her rejection is that she cannot be serious in her refusal. 

 "I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”

So elevated is his own sense of self-worth that she has to explain to him that she did, in fact, mean what she said:

  “Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal.”

What is the result? Collins still doesn’t take no for an answer, again:

  “Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins very gravely – “but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say.”

And again:

  "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.”

  “Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some warmth, “you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one.”

And again:

   "You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: – It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into farther consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.“

   ”I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretension whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.“

And again:   

"You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.”

In fact, Collins only stops pursuing Elizabeth when her father puts his foot down and backs her refusal. Pride and Prejudice is a comedy, and so the tone is light on the surface, but beneath the satire is a very real, earnest desire to communicate how often women’s words—even their consent—are dismissed as fickle or inconsequential. Seeing our heroine not fleeing dramatically from a villain, but pursued by an entitled man who doesn’t take her words seriously, we feel Elizabeth’s sense of outrage and how belittling it is for Collins to act this way.

By contrast, though we might imagine a love interest like Darcy to be overcome with passion and try to make her his own by any means, Darcy is remarkably restrained and respectful without ever losing his ardent love for the woman he wants to marry. The first divergence of his response from Collins’ occurs right after he has been rejected:

   "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.“

The wording here is important. He doesn’t demand that she explain why she rejected him, but rather why she was so impolite about doing so (since he has no knowledge of her dislike of him). He continues to be honest about his objections to her family’s behavior and place in the world, and to be angry at her for defending the duplicitous Wickham, but he never tries to convince her that she was wrong in rejecting him, even though he still views her as a social inferior.

After their heated conversation, Darcy leaves with an apology that he has occupied her for so long:

   "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

This is a far cry from Collins following Elizabeth around after the proposal and trying to go over her head to her parents for support.

But wait—doesn’t the love interest write Elizabeth a letter, convincing her to give him another chance?

No. Both Darcy’s letter and its method of delivery are respectful of Elizabeth’s boundaries and her refusal of him.

It should be noted that an unmarried gentlewoman receiving letters from a man she was not engaged to resulted in scandal if it were ever exposed. If Darcy had wanted to compel Elizabeth to marry him, he would only have had to deliver the letter publicly, or through the post. Instead, he delivers the letter in person, when they are alone in a park and there is no chance of discovery. It is still a bit of a risk, though, and so he asks (not demands) that she read it:

“Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?“

Right from the beginning, Darcy reassures Elizabeth that he is not trying to impose on her or get her to accept him after she has made her wishes clear:

 "Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. 

While it is more than apparent that her rejection stung and he is still in love with her, he never brings up the subject of the proposal again—the contents are a defense of the charges she had laid against his character, as well as a warning against Wickham for her own safety. He doesn’t ask for a second chance or demand she reconsider her words, even in light of this new information. Moreover, he trusts her with the knowledge of his sister’s near-elopement with Wickham (which could cause a scandal if discovered), thus risking as much by delivering the letter as Elizabeth does by accepting it. In every way, he trusts her judgment and keeps her wishes in mind.

When they meet again at Pemberley, Darcy is trying to reform his behavior. He is cordial to her tradesman uncle and aunt, and has divested himself of the haughtiness that prevented her from seeing his true worth initially. Darcy does not give himself permission to pursue Elizabeth as a result of this change in character; it is only after they have met and talked cordially that he asks her, not to speak with him alone, but to meet his sister. In fact, he resists making romantic overtures for the duration of the visit, which ends abruptly when Elizabeth discovers her sister’s elopement with Wickham. And even there, when she and Darcy are accidentally alone during her distress, he makes no move to use the occasion as an excuse to “comfort” her with his advances. His reaction is, in fact, quite the opposite:

 "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern.”

Another opportunity arises for Darcy to compel Elizabeth to marry him, this time out of gratitude. Unable to see Elizabeth so wretched, he finds Lydia and Wickham in London and, at great expense, convinces them to marry. He saves not only her sister’s reputation but that of her entire family. Yet rather than use that as an example to Elizabeth of what a good person he is, he forbids her aunt and uncle from mentioning that it was he who saved the Bennets’ good name. Elizabeth doesn’t even know he was involved until Lydia thoughtlessly gives the game away (after she, too, was sworn to secrecy).  

How then, do Lizzy and Darcy get together? It is Elizabeth herself who gives Darcy a reason to believe her opinion of him has improved. During a verbal duel with Darcy’s formidable aunt, she comes out the winner and point-blank refuses to give Lady Catherine a promise not to pursue Mr. Darcy. Lady Catherine petulantly tries to cut the problem off at the source by relating everything to her nephew. It works about as well as you’d expect.

 But, unluckily for her ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.

   "It taught me to hope,“ said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”

What prompts Darcy to renew his offer of marriage is nothing more or less than evidence that Elizabeth had seen his change of heart and accepted it.

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once.My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”

Above is Darcy’s second proposal. After hearing her first rejection, he takes her at her word, respectfully gives her information that might have led her to mistaken conclusions about him, leaves even before he is asked to, reforms his own behavior, never takes advantage of their being alone to make unwanted advances, assists her and her family without taking any credit, and once he has seen enough signs to think she might accept him, renews his offer once and only once. If she says no again, unlike Collins, he will not continue to pester her or seek her out. He will not try to convince her that her decision was wrong. It is a sad statement on society that this is a remarkable thing, no less in the real world than in fiction, and all too prevalent in heroes of romance even two hundred years later. There is no shortage of love interests who mistake passion for permission, conflict for consent, and adversity for flirtation—but there is also no excuse for this to continue, particularly now. If a novel published in 1813 can understand the letter and spirit of consent, I think we can do better in our own time.


EDIT: Continued here.

Maria's Version - Say No To This Parody

So like why hasn’t anyone written Maria’s side of Say No To This?

Not in the Say Yes To This, mixtape style but like the original album style. Like the same way, same beats and all but different. I don’t know how to explain it and all but eh. So, @feral-tomcat-hamilton helped me with most of this and created a ton of this, so most of the credit goes to them, they are an angel

Of course, the original song belongs to Lin and the production of Hamilton: An American Musical. So, please don’t sue me if you see this.

So it would be like this:

I don’t like to go down to the city.

But when I do, I make sure I look pretty.

Clothed in a red dress, eyes filled with pity.

Toxic summer air, I can smell it.

Alexander hungrily stares, I can tell it.

I hadn’t eaten in a week, I was beat, I was afraid.

I hadn’t been this scared in a relationship, I needed a break.

Longing for freedom, hating this strife.

That’s when I walked into Mr. Hamilton’s life.
I said

I know you are a man of honor. I’m so sorry to bother you at home. But I don’t know where to go

And I came here all alone (I said)

My husband’s doing me wrong. Beating me, cheating me, mistreating me. Suddenly he’s up and gone. I don’t have the means to go on

So he offered me a loan. He offered to walk me home. I said

You’re too kind, Sir

He gave me 30 bucks that he had socked away. I lived a block away.

I said

This one’s mine, Sir

Then he said “well, I should head back home”

I turned red.
I led him to my bed.
Let my legs spread, and said.

Stay

Hey…

Hey…

Then I pull his mouth onto mine, and he doesn’t say no to this.

He doesn’t say no to this.

He doesn’t know how to say no to this

Oh my god, he’s so helpless, and my kiss makes him say hell yes.

(Woah…) Lord, don’t show him how to say no to this

I don’t want him to say no to this

In my mind I can’t let him go

Go, go, go

Then I pull his mouth is on mine

And he doesn’t say-

No! Go!

Say no to this

No! Go! Say no to this.

No! Go! Say no to this. No! Go!

Say no to this

The fact of the matter I’m not the only one blame here. I wasn’t the only one to have sex there.

A month into this endeavour he recieved a letter from my husband James even better it said:

Dear Sir,

I hope this letter finds you in good health

And in a prosperous enough position to put wealth

In the pockets of people like me
Down on their luck

You see, that was my wife who you decided to

(Maria saying this furiously at the letter.) Fuck!

Uh-oh! You made the wrong sucker a cuckold

So time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled

And hey, you can keep seeing my whore wife

If the price is right

If not I’m telling your wife

I hated the letter, simply it could’ve been better

I tried to keep to my self, but it’s hard to do that when Alex is losing is wealth.

He raced to place

Screamed in my face putting guilt on my part

Forgetting that I even have a heart.

Mad. Angry. Up in my space

I cried “No sir!”

So was the whole story a set-up?

I don’t know about the letter!

Stop crying, goddammit, get up!

I didn’t know any better!

I am ruined!

Please don’t leave me!

I am helpless!

How could I do this?!

Just give him what he wants
And you can have me!
Whatever he wants
If you pay
You can stay!

Lord, show me how to help him with this

He doesn’t know how to say no to this

But the situation’s helpless (Helpless…)

And his body’s screaming, “hell yes”

(Woah…) Lord, don’t show him how to say no to this

How can he say no to this

I beg him not to go
Go, go, go

When his body on mine he does not say no.

He doesn’t say
No!

Yes! (Yeah…)

Say no to this!
No!

Yes! (Yeah…)

I want to help him with this.(Yeah…)
No!

Yes! (Yeah…)

Say no to this(Yeah…)

I want to help him with this

I don’t

Say no to this

There is nowhere I can go

Go, go, go

So?

Nobody needs to know

“Kiss Me” Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3,293

Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: Could you do one where you’re not super tomboy but you don’t usually wear “girly things” and to go undercover you have to wear a short black dress, basically what happens is a lot of tight spaces with you and dean and some accidental rubbing against each other here and there and it ends with some good smut where he basically just hikes up the skirt of your dress and you realize how convenient dresses can actually be 

Warnings: Smut, language, lots of sexual tension, unprotected sex


Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

“There’s no way in hell you’re going.” Dean shakes his head, not even considering the idea of you going on the case with them.

“Come on. You’ve been training me for months now, besides it’s not like we’ll be doing any actual fighting. It’s a goddamn dinner party. All we’ll be doing is socializing and stealing that dumb bracelet.” You argue.

You had been living with Sam and Dean for a few months now. They’ve been training you to be a hunter, but refuse to take you on any actual hunts yet. They keep saying that you just aren’t ready, despite kicking ass in training. Tonight they were supposed to be going to some fancy dinner party/auction at some fancy collector’s house, and you were desperate to go along.

“What if something goes wrong, huh? What are you going to do then?” Dean questions, obviously getting frustrated.

“Then I can be a helpful asset to the team! I know what I’m doing. I’m getting training from the best hunters in the country.” You beg.

“Dean, she has a good point. She’s going to have to start somewhere, and this is probably the best place to do that. The chances of anything going wrong are slim.” Sam defended you.

“What, both of you are going to gang up on me now?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine, you can go. But if you get hurt, I get to tell you that I told you so.”

“Ah!” You say in excitement. “Thank you!”

You’re not sure why Dean is so protective over you. You’re only a few years younger than Sam, not too big of a deal. You can take care of yourself. But ever since you moved in with them, Dean has been overly-protective of you, and honestly, it could be a bit much. You feel like he treats you like a little, helpless girl instead of the woman you are.

“But, those clothes are a no. You’re going to have to wear a dress.” Dean pointed to your outfit.

“I hate dresses. What’s wrong with my clothes?” You frown. You were wearing ripped skinny jeans and a flannel, nothing too fancy, but you wouldn’t consider it ugly. You like your clothing, even if it’s not the girliest.

“There’s nothing wrong with them,” Sam interjected, staring down Dean. “This event is just really fancy and we have to fit in.”

“I don’t even own a dress.” You realize. “Or heels. Or anything fancy, for that matter.”

“Guess you can’t go on the case then.” Dean sighed dramatically.

“You wish, Winchester.” You roll your eyes. “What time is the event?”

“Seven.”

“I’ll be back later.” You glance at the clock, seeing that it was almost one in the afternoon. You definitely had time to run to the mall and grab some stuff before tonight.

-

A few hours later, you returned to the bunker with a few shopping bags in each hand. It had been a successful trip- you managed to find a relatively cute but not expensive dress that had matching heels, and also some earrings.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you carry shopping bags in your life.” Dean commented as you walked past them to go to your room.

“There’s a first for everything, right?” You shoved a couple bags in his arms, making him help you bring them to your room.

“You know, I’m not trying to be mean. I just don’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

“Dean.” You set the bags on your bed, turning around and looking at him in the eye. “You don’t have to act like my big brother. I’m okay. I can take care of myself.”

Dean looks at you, seeming like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I’ve got to start getting ready, so…” You trail off, implying that he needed to leave.

“It’s only four. It starts at seven.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Uh, trust me, girls take a long time to get ready. Now, get out.” You laugh, playfully shoving him out the door. He raises his hands in surrender, and closes the door behind him.

You are determined to look good tonight, to go all out. You rarely ever dressed up, hence why you didn’t have any nice clothing. This was probably the last time you’ll ever dress up as well, you hate dresses, so why not make the most of it?

You started out by taking a shower and making sure that you used your favorite body wash that left a good scent on you for hours. You normally only used it for when you were going on a date, but this is a special occasion.

You then blow-dryed your hair and curled it, which was a nice change from your usual ponytail you typically threw it in. Next you applied makeup, which was also a nice change from the bare face you normally sported. You have clear skin and decent eyelashes, so you didn’t think you needed makeup on a day to day basis. Tonight, you were rocking a smoky eye and red lip combo, thanks to the YouTube tutorials you had watched. You attempted to put on fake eyelashes, but they were a complete fail so you just went without them.

The last thing you did was put on your dress. You looked in the mirror and admired yourself once it was on. Man, is that dress sexy. It was a tight, bodycon style that stopped just below your butt, showing off all the right curves of your boy. Paired with the black heels, you looked good.

You were about to grab your purse when you hear a knocking on your door.

“Y/N? It’s almost seven, we’ve got to-“

You interrupt them by opening the door, revealing both Sam and Dean standing there. The reactions of both of their faces are priceless. Sam raised his eyebrows and glanced away, doing his signature nervous gulp. Dean, oh poor Dean, he didn’t know what had hit him. He couldn’t look away. He had never seen you look so… Good.

“You can take a picture if you want.” You tease, walking past them. They both cleared their throats and watched as you walked past them, not moving a muscle.

“You know, boys, we’re going to be late if you don’t get a move on it.” You say.

“Yeah yeah.” Dean mumbled, rushing to get to the impala.

The ride there was uncomfortable, to say the least. You couldn’t sit in the backseat since Dean hadn’t cleaned it, and you didn’t want to get anything on your dress. Sam was entirely too tall to sit back there, and there was no way in hell that Dean was letting either of you drive. So, that left you to be in your current predicament- squished between the both of them in the front seat.

Sam was polite enough to try and scoot over as far to the door as possible, which was nice. You had some room, but you were still basically attached to Dean on the hip. Your thighs were touching and your shoulders were bumping into each other, and no one said a word the entire ride there.

When you finally reached the house, you couldn’t be more happy to get out of that car. You stepped outside of the impala, enjoying the feeling of the warm summer air hitting your skin.

“How are we going to go about this?” You asked them, leaning against the impala. You couldn’t exactly go inside without a plan.

“The bracelet is inside one of the upstairs bedroom, inside the top drawer of one of the dressers. We’ll socialize for a little bit, whatever, and then I’ll excuse myself to the bathroom and go find the bracelet upstairs. You and Sam can keep watch downstairs.” Dean directed.

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” You say. You link arms with the both of them and walk inside the house, which was absolutely beautiful. You’re enchanted by architecture and all of the collections spread about the house. It was something out of a movie.

“Grab a glass of champagne. Fit in.” Dean whispered to you, not looking at you as he waved to a person across the room. You took a glass from the table behind you, taking a small sip as the person Dean waved to came over to the three of you.

“Hello! What brings you guests here today?” The man asks, all smiles. He must be the owner of the house.

“Just very interested in seeing what you have up for auction today, Sir. You have lovely collections.” You tell him, putting your charm on.

“Why, thank you!” He smiles.

“So, why don’t you tell me about some of these pieces? I’d love to know more.” You lie, hoping to keep the man’s interest long enough for Dean to sneak upstairs. It wasn’t exactly the plan, but it would work. You shoot Dean a look, and he gives you a thumbs up, and you can see him dash away upstairs.

“This piece of art work I got from Venice, isn’t it lovely?” He pointed to a painting.

“Yes, it certainly is.” You pretend to admire it.

He keeps on talking, and at some point you zone out. You look back over to where Sam was standing, hoping to see Dean standing there, but he wasn’t back yet. Odd.

You glance over to the other side of the room, and two men in bodyguard suits are talking, grabbing your attention. They keep glancing over to the stairs and over to Sam, and your heart drops. They must be suspicious.

“Excuse me, sir, but I am going to have to get back over to my friend. Thank you so much for telling me about the history of your painting.” You rushed. You didn’t wait for him to respond while you went over to Sam.

“Sam, those men are onto us. I have to go get Dean.” You say from a few feet away so the men don’t think you’re talking to him, so they think you’re just grabbing another glass of champagne.

“I’ll go.”

“No, they are already staring you down. You take one step and they will follow you up there. They haven’t noticed I’m with you yet. I have to go.” You turn around, taking a sip of the champagne.

“Be careful.” Sam whispered, not daring to look at you.

“I will.”

You walk upstairs, making sure the men don’t notice you. They’re still watching Sam, thankfully. When you get up to the top, you see Dean standing in the hallway, closing one of the doors to the rooms.

“Did you get it yet?” You asked, running over to him, which is difficult in heels.

“No, there are so many goddamn rooms in this house, I’ve still got like five more rooms to check.” He says. “Why are you up here?” He questions.

“People are onto us. You need to hurry.”

Just as you say that, you can hear people walking up the stairs. You grab Dean and pull him behind one of the columns, just to where you two were out of sight to anyone walking in the hallway. You admit, the two of you were in a compromising position. He was leaned up against the column and you were pressed up against him, your head against his chest.

He goes to say something, but you press you hand against his mouth and raise a finger to your lips, indicating that he needs to be quiet.

“I don’t see anybody up here. You’re just being paranoid, Seb.” You hear a man’s voice booming from down the hallway. The voices trail away as well as their footsteps, and you peek your head around the corner.

“We’re clear.” You whisper. Your bodies are still pressed together, and Dean looks down at you, you feeling his hot breath against your skin. His eyes are sparkling and his arms are wrapped your waist- you admit, he looked really good.

“We, uh, we need to find the bracelet.” You say nervously, pushing yourself away from him.

“Right. The bracelet.” He nods, following you back into the hallway.

“I haven’t checked this room yet.” Dean points to a door, and you follow him inside. Just like the rest of the house, the room is absolutely beautiful.

You walk over to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. A shiny bracelet with a blue stone in the center of it was set on top of a pillow, almost begging to be taken.

“This it?” You hold it up to Dean.

“Yes, thank god.” Dean shoves it in his tuxedo pocket.

You footsteps approaching the room, along with the same man’s voice from earlier. Panic fills your chest and you freeze. How are you supposed to explain this if they walk in? You can’t exactly just be like, ‘Hey, yeah we were stealing your jewelry. Excuse us.’

“Dean, kiss me.” You say.

“Wh-“ He begins, but you cut him off by pressing your mouth to his. He kisses you back immediately, sneaking his arms around your waist and bringing you into the same position you were in at the column. The door to the room opens, and you and Dean pull apart.

“Oh, we’re terribly sorry-“ The man apologizes, blush filling his cheeks.

“Yeah, you should be.” Dean snaps, and the door closes. The two men outside start mumbling and then they walk away.

“That was-“ Dean looks at you, an expression you can’t quite read.

“Yeah, fuck, that was close. Good thing I was here to save the day.” You joke.

“Yeah. Close.” He breathes heavily.

“We should leave now. Before someone realizes its missing.” You start to walk out the door. Dean is silent as he follows you back downstairs. Sam has a relieved look on his face when he sees the two of you coming back unharmed.

“I thought you were both screwed when I saw them go upstairs.” Sam says, the three of you walking back to the impala.

“Yeah, we came close to getting caught. They opened the door while we were in the room grabbing it.” You slide into the car, back into your uncomfortable middle seat.

“How’d you manage to get out of that one?” Sam looks shocked. Dean grunts, and sits down to your left to start the car. His hand landing on your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Said we were looking for the bathroom.” You lie. You’re not sure why you just lied to Sam, but the feeling of Dean’s hand inching up your thigh was not a feeling you ever thought you’d get from Dean. Sure, he’s attractive, but you had never really thought of him that way before… Not until tonight.

The drive back to the bunker was ten times more uncomfortable than the drive there. Dean’s hand never left your thigh, but the minute it would get to the hem your dress, he would bring his hand back down to your knee, repeating the process. Your breath was hitching and you were sure that you were soaking through your underwear. If Sam noticed what was going on, he never said anything. He just kept his eyes focused on the window the entire time.

The minute you got to the bunker, Sam shot out of the car and went to his room, looking uncomfortable. Oh, he knew.

“Y/N, we have to talk…” Dean sets the keys down on the kitchen table.

“Look, it was just purely for business-“

“No, it wasn’t. You felt it, too. And I could tell how turned on you were in the car.” Dean walked up closer to you, pinning you up against the kitchen counter. “Remember earlier today when you told me that I think of you as a little sister?” He fiddled with the hem of your dress.

You nodded, unable to form any words.

“You couldn’t be any further from the truth.”

He smashed his lips against yours, his kiss full of lust and need. He lifts you onto the counter, not breaking the kiss as he lifts your dress up past your hips, revealing your black lace thong.

“This is pretty.” He says, and he brings his head down to your lower area. He takes your thong between his teeth, bringing the lacy material down your legs and onto the floor.

It was the most erotic thing you’d probably ever seen.

Dean starts planting kisses up your legs, starting from your calves and stopping right at your upper thigh.

“Dean, please, stop teasing.” You breathe out, desperate for more.

“Be patient, baby girl.” He mumbled against your skin, and finally his lips pressed to your clit. You moan, the feeling of his tongue on you radiating throughout your body. He enters a finger inside of you, making you moan even louder. You clamp your hand over your mouth, but Dean reached up and moved your hand.

“Don’t. I want to hear you.” He smirked, entering a second finger. With the rate he was going, you weren’t going to last very long.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m going to cum.” You’re a moaning mess, and he picks up his pace. You clench around his fingers, coming around him. Dean removes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, licking them clean.

“You taste so sweet.” He gets up, giving you a deep kiss. You’d never had a man kiss you after eating you out, but man, did it turn you on even more. Or maybe it was just Dean.

You brought your hand to his pants, palming his hard erection through the clothing. He groaned, and you started to fumble with his belt. Sliding it off, you pulled down his pants and his boxers in one motion, leaving his hard member in your hands.

“Damn, Dean.” You commented. He was perfect. He positioned himself with your entrance, and entered himself slowly.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses, throwing his head back in pleasure. He starts to move at a faster pace, the only sounds in the room being both of your moans and skin slapping together.

“I’m going to cum again,” You tell him, the pleasure you’re experiencing being more than any you ever had. The man knows what he’s doing.

“Cum, Y/N, cum on my cock.” Dean says, and this brings you to your second orgasm. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made Dean reach his orgasm as well, his warm spurts filling your insides.

“Holy fuck.” Dean breathes out, pulling out of you. He grabs a towel from the drawer beside you, wiping the two of you off.

“That was…” You trail off, unable to find words.

“You were great.” Dean tosses the towel across the room, it landing right in front of the laundry room. You hop off the kitchen counter, and Dean hands you your thong.

“Sam’s gonna be pissed you just used a nice towel.” You laugh. You slide your underwear back on, and you pull your dress back down your body.

“Worth it.” Dean smiles at you, kissing you once more.

“You know,” you pull away. “Dresses are way more convenient than I remember.”

The Pawns And The Kings

Part 1 Part 2Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Originally posted by bangtanbtsmut



Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Smut

Plot:  The reader is kidnapped, left alone in utter darkness. Once the day of her auctioning comes, she’s given to the head of one of the worlds most powerful gangs, Jungkook. She was nothing but a gift to him. But her little soul turns out to have the power to turn the tides in the worlds angriest ocean. And it turns out, Jungkook isn’t the only man whom eyes have settled upon her.

Keep reading

13 Reasons Why Preference: Hogwarts AU

Writing is mine; gifs are not (not all of the gifs are cooperating and im sad about it so if you can’t see them, sorry)

Originally posted by mystery--box

Jeff Atkins

You sighed contentedly as you sat in Slughorn’s Potions class, listening to Hermione Granger describe the sweet smelling potion, Amortentia, sitting in front of you. “It smells different to every person, depending on what they are most attracted to.” she was explaining. 

“What do you smell?” you heard a familiar voice ask, and turned towards the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team leaning towards you with a flirty glint in his eyes. 

“And why would I tell you that, Atkins?” you teased. 

“Oh, come on, I’ll tell you what I smell!” he answered. Leaning towards you, he lowered his voice to list his various scents. “I smell leather, freshly mowed grass, and something familiar that I can’t quite place." 

You arched an eyebrow. "You don’t even know one of your smells?" 

He laughed. "Oh, so you recognize all of yours?" 

You took a deep breath, and decided to finally tell him. "Okay, mine are freshly brewed coffee, old books, and that cologne that your mom always sends you.” you whispered, staring at the table in front of you. 

Jeff stayed silent for a minute, the most terrifying minute of my life. Finally, you heard him exhale. “I lied.” he muttered. 

“What?” you asked, turning your gaze to him. “I lied. I told you I didn’t know my third scent, but I do. It’s the way you always smell when you come back from holidays. Like the evergreens all around your house, in that forest you like to read in.” His cheeks were a bright red by the time he finished speaking, but you couldn’t hide the smile on your face. You went to reply, but he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your heart fluttering. 

“While that was all very romantic, Mr. Atkins and Miss (Y/L/N), could we please resume class now?” Slughorn asked as you and Jeff broke apart, cheeks burning with both happiness and embarrassment. 

Justin Foley 

You spun around one last time in front of your dormitory’s mirror. The way your dress flowed around your ankles when you twirled made you feel like a princess. You’d never felt more beautiful than you did in the moment. 

“Wow, (Y/N), you look incredible! Justin’s going to fall in love with you on the spot.” you best friend, Hannah Abbott, teased. 

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you muttered, “Shut up, no he isn’t." 

"Just wait, you’ll see.” she said, winking as she looped her arms through yours and you two exited the Hufflepuff common room. 

The Great Hall was decorated beautifully for the Yule Ball– it was like a winter wonderland, complete with ice sculptures and Christmas trees all around. 

“(Y/N)!” You turned your attention away from the decorations when you heard the familiar voice of the Slytherin boy headed your way. 

“Hi, Justin.” you replied as he reached you. And man, did he look good. “You clean up nice.” you laughed, eying him up and down. 

Laughing with you, he took a step back to admire your appearance. “God, you look absolutely stunning.” he said. Music started playing around you, signaling the start of the first dance. You all watched and clapped politely as the champions and their dates began dancing, soon joined by teachers and other students. “May I have this dance?” Justin offered his hand to you. 

You grinned. “Of course." 

 – 

After the feast and hours of dancing with Justin, you were exhausted. Dumbledore finally announced the last dance, and despite not wanting the night to end, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even so, you were disappointed to see such a perfect night come to a close. One last waltz began and you allowed Justin to once again pull you close to his body. "You really are beautiful.” he whispered as he led you in the dance. You blushed, your eyes glancing down the floor as a smile crept onto your face. Justin tilted your chin up gently so that he could look into your eyes. “(Y/N)?" 

"Yes?” you prompted.

“Will you be my girlfriend?" 

You couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across your face. "I would love nothing more.” His mouth formed into a grin to match yours before he leaned in to kiss you. This really was the perfect night. 


Clay Jensen

“Miss (Y/L/N), please stay after class for a moment.” Professor Flitwick requested as you tried to leave his room. You sighed as you turned around, knowing what this was about. “(Y/N), I know you’re very smart and you do well in every other class, but I can tell you’re struggling with Charms. I’ve arranged for a fellow Ravenclaw to tutor you. He will meet you in this classroom at the end of lessons today." 

"I have Quidditch practice today, sir.” you said, hoping to get out of this. 

“Yes, you will be finished before dinner. Practice is not until after dinner. You must improve in Charms if you’d like to stay on the team.” he retorted. You fought hard not to roll your eyes. 

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” you said with a sigh, leaving the room. 

 – 

After lessons that day, you went back to Flitwick’s classroom to meet your tutor. To your surprise, Clay Jensen was sitting at a desk when you walked in. 

“Clay? You’re my tutor?” you asked. 

“Seems like it. I didn’t know you needed a tutor, (Y/N)” he answered. 

“I usually don’t, but Charms is my worst class.” you admitted. 

He gave you a small smile, one that made your heart beat a little faster. “I can help with that.” he said softly. Maybe this tutoring thing won’t be so bad. 

 – 

After just two weeks of Clay’s help, your Charms work had improved significantly. You didn’t tell him this, though, because you secretly really enjoyed spending the time with him and you didn’t want it to end. 

“Professor Flitwick says you’re doing much better in class, (Y/N).” Clay said as he walked into the room one day. “You’ll be able to play in the match Friday!" 

You grinned. "All thanks to you.” you said with a wink, causing him to blush. 

When the match came on Friday, Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff, largely due to you catching the snitch early. This win was huge; it put you in the Cup finals with Gryffindor. So, naturally, your House rushed onto the field when you won. All around you, people yelled congratulations and clapped you on the back, but it didn’t take you long to spot the one classmate you were looking for. 

“Jensen!” you yelled, trying to make him hear you. He pushed through the crowd to get to you, offering his congratulations when he reached you. Smiling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Cheers erupted all around you, causing you to pull apart, laughing. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” You admitted. Grinned, he planted his lips on yours once more.

Originally posted by corn-flacks

Zach Dempsey

“You did what?!” you yelled at your boyfriend, making every other Hufflepuff in the common room turn to look at you. 

“Babe, calm down,” he mumbled, glancing around at everyone staring. 

“I most certainly will not calm down! Why would you enter your name for the Triwizard Tournament? Are you trying to get yourself killed, or are you just stupid?” To those around you, your words and your tone seemed to radiate anger, but inside? All you could feel was paralyzing fear. All of your blood had turned cold the moment your idiot boyfriend had told you he’d entered his name. 

“What, you think I can’t do it? You think I can’t win?” he challenged, losing all concern about your watching classmates. 

“You didn’t even discuss this with me, Zach! Since when do you not tell me things? Did you do this on a whim?” you retorted. He fixed his glare on the floor and didn’t answer. You scoffed. “Wonderful. Great. How lovely that you’re going to get yourself killed on impulse.” You turned and stormed out of the common room, feeling as though you were going to be sick.

“And the Hogwarts Champion is….” As Dumbledore took a dramatic pause, you silently prayed for him to say Cedric. or Angelina. or any other name but Zach’s. “…Zach Dempsey of Hufflepuff!” Your stomach dropped. The Great Hall erupted around you as your boyfriend rose from his seat farther down your House table. He wasn’t sitting next to you tonight; you hadn’t even spoken since your fight in the common room. He caught your eye as he walked forward, his usually loving gaze still full of love, but now mixed with other emotions: fear, pride, hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t believed in him. Hurt that you weren’t right there cheering him on with everyone else. Hurt that you two were still fighting.

– 

Later that night, he approached you at your favorite chair in the common room. Your House was celebrating all around you, but your heart was broken at the thought of losing Zach. "Can we talk?“ he asked over the noise. 

You nodded, allowing him to pull you out of your chair and into a hallway. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” he muttered, pulling you against his chest. 

 You sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you, I’m just so scared.” you admitted, unable to stop the tears falling down your cheeks. He nodded, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he wiped the tears away with his thumbs. 

“Me too, babe." 

Alex Standall

"You know, the next Hogsmeade trip is on Valentine’s Day.” Alex said, sitting across the table from you at dinner one night. 

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You were lying through your teeth, of course. You had noticed, and after the past couple of “dates” you and Alex had been on (mainly studying dates and the occasions walk around the lake), you were hoping he’d make it official there. 

“Will you go with me? We could go to that little café thing all girls seem to love.” he suggested. 

“You mean Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop?" 

"Yeah, that one. Or somewhere else if you want, it’s up to you.” he said, cheeks tinged slightly red. 

“I would love to, Alex.” you said with a small smile. 

 – 

February 14th finally came a few days later, and after a bit of teasing from your friends, you went downstairs to meet Alex for your date. “Hey beautiful, ready to go?” he said once you’d met him in the Great Hall. You smiled as he took your hand and led you down the path to the little village. The walk wasn’t terribly long, but it was cold, so Alex gave you his jacket, refusing to hear your protests. When you finally made it to the tea shop, you were both relieved by the warmth in the place. He bought you both hot chocolate before you sat together in a little booth. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you let your hot chocolate warm you up. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice how cozy all of the couples looked, as though they had no care in the world except for each other. He finally broke the silence after a few minutes, your conversations ranging everywhere from classes to Quidditch to your home lives. 

He glanced down at his watch some time later, and a surprised look crossed his face. “We have to be back at school in half an hour." 

"We’ve been sitting here for 5 hours?” you asked, as startled as he looked. “Yeah, we should head back then!" 

"Wait.” he said, as you two stood up to leave. “Before we go… Will you be my girlfriend? Like, officially?" 

You smiled. "I would love to.”

More Guardians of the Galaxy 2 Things

SPOILERS~~

  • You know the trailer scene where Rocket asks for tape to put over the death button?
    • It does not include Peter and Rocket realizing that Groot has to carry the device that can kill them all. 
    • Keeping in mind that Rocket and Yondu spent half a night trying to get Groot to find a red finn for Yondu and he brought them: A desk, a pin, underwear, and a severed finger before KRAGLIN finally brought them the finn.
    • The trailer does not include the part where Rocket asks Peter to go asks the others if they have any tape during the middle of the huge climatic battle. We get to hear Peter fly around to Yondu, Gamora, Drax, and Mantis asking them if they have tape for a solid two minute before retuning to tell Rocket, that no, no one has tape. 
      • “Did you ask Nebula?” “I asked Yondu and she was with him!” “So you didn’t ask Nebula.”
    • Tense scene in the last twenty minutes where Groot has delivered the death button to Ego’s brain. He deliberates between the automatic destruct and the count down. The theater cheered when he pushed the right one. 
  • Kraglin asks Nebula what she’s going to do with the money she’ll get from turning in the Guardian’s of the Galaxy.
    • Nebula: (Long speech about revenge on Thanos and Gamora)
    • Kraglin: “I was thinking about a pretty necklace.”
    • Kraglin is pretty great too
      • He’s one of the crew members that stays  loyals to Yondu after a hostile take over. Kraglin tells Yondu that Taserface killed ‘all his friends’ and my heart broke in a million pieces.
  • Gamora and Peter spend a small portion of a scene dancing, and it was so cute???
    • Peter is really trying to get Gamora to open up and Gamora’s like there’s nothing to open up about, no sir, no feelings here. 
      • Mantis tried to do the empathy thing on Gamora and Gamora basically said, “touch me and I’ll break your jaw.”
    • Peter obviously confides in Gamora, and Gamora obviously gives him advice but it’s not a two way street. He trusts her, but she doesn’t trust him, and he wants to help her because he wants to earn her trust, not just because he’s trying to seduce her. That boy is in love. 
    • What gets Gamora to open up is Nebula and I can’t even believe it. 
    • She’s obviously Groots favorite after Rocket, he cries when she has to leave him and she reassures him when she’ll be back and it’s cute? 
  • The Cree and the Guardians of the Galaxy in the chase scene through the Asteroid Field
    • Rocket and Peter can’t decide whose going to pilot the ship, each convinced they’re better then the other.
      • Gamora: “either of you two could’ve gotten us through that asteroid field if you had piloted with what was between your heads and not your legs!” Peter: “My penis could’ve grown a hand and piloted better then Rocket.”
    • Drax figures that the best way to get the Cree ship on their tail off is by jumping out the bag of the ship, trailing behind it, and shooting it himself. 
      • The winch breaks and Gamora has to grab ahold of the end, there is a solid five minutes of her just screaming on screen as she literally keeps Drax from becoming a fly on the windshield. 
      • They crash land and Drax just laughs. 
    • They’re saved by Ego who is apparently riding on top of his ship, as spotted by Rocket.
      • “Who saved us” Rocket: “A one inch dude on top of a space ship! Well, I mean he wasn’t one inch tall, he’d probably get bigger if he got closer.” Peter: “Yes, that’s how vision works.”
  • If you don’t think Michael Rooker walking in slow motion while taking back his mutinied ship by killing everyone on it with his arrow is hot then you got another thing coming. 
  • Mantis manages to slow Ego by forcing him asleep.
    • Mantis: “I can’t do it if he doesn’t want to.” Drax: “You can do it because I believe in you.” Mantis: (Does it) Drax: “Wow, I can’t believe she did it!”
    • Mantis gets knocked out by Ego and Drax has to carry her to the escape ship but is basically sunk into and by Ego to capture him. Drax –despite being submerged in quicksand to top of the head– is holding up Mantis above the quicksand.
    • Dude

Fingertips Between Us (Chapter 1)

Ta-da! It’s finally here! I’m sorry for such a long wait! First chapters in a story always take me a while >.< they do after all, set the stage for all the events coming forward! 

As always, please leave me asks about what you think when you’ve finished reading!


Something warm and wet presses against your forehead, and you crinkle your eyes in mock annoyance, a smile already forming on your face.

“Mmm…stop that.” You mumble, turning to the other side of the bed to escape whatever disturbed your sleep. Or, whoever.

Strong arms drape around your body, giving a sharp tug. You feel yourself roll back the other way, returning to the exact position you had just escaped from.

“Good morning my love.” A kiss to your nose.

You feel the weight of the ring on your finger shift as he plays with it absent mindedly.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” A kiss to your cheek.

You carefully peek one eye open, “Did you really wake me up just to tell me that?” Though you try your best to sound stern, even you hear the giggling tone in your voice.

“I need to go to work love.” A kiss to your other cheek.

You turn your head to look at the clock, was it that late already? Turning back you finally notice that Jumin isn’t in his sleeping attire, the fabric of the striped suit staring at you tauntingly.

“I’m sorry…I hadn’t meant to sleep in so late.” You mumble ashamed at how you had even slept through him getting ready.

A gentle hand sweeps over your hair lovingly, “You worked late last night. It’s alright.”  Jumin stands from the bed, your arms still thrown around his neck. Instead of detaching them Jumin opts to take you with him to the door, lifting you up from the bed, carrying you as he walked. Your legs wrap around him, and in the short 300 steps it takes to get to the front entrance you sprinkle kisses along his jaw and on his neck.

When he finally arrives at the door you step down sorrowfully, “Have a good day at work.”

You stand over him as he sits to put on his shoes, a frown on your face. Your hair is still disheveled from sleep, lips still swollen from last night’s kisses, your voice is husky, muscled and toned with half awakeness.

Jumin turns from his shoes to glance at you behind him. He lets out a small smile at the very displeased frown on your face. He stares at your messy hair and listens to your musky voice. You’re so beautiful. He always hated leaving you in the morning.

“Will you be home for dinner? You remember our plans right?” You grumble, knowing deep inside that you shouldn’t be acting like such a child. But you couldn’t help it, after all, life was so much better when you both were together.

Jumin tightens his left shoe and stands, turning to face you.

“Yes, yes.” He says dismissively.

There’s a large grin on his face. “I’m heading off now.”

You almost roll your eyes with amusement. Ever since you both had gotten engaged Jumin made it clear to you that he would not leave to work, or anywhere for that matter, without a goodbye kiss from you.

“My, what a doting husband I’m going to have.” You tease, taking steps towards him nonetheless.

“Mmmm, of course.” A kiss to your lips.

It takes you by surprise, “Weren’t you the one who insisted I be the one to kiss you?”

“Of course” He says teasingly, and you look down to discover his eyes closed slightly, his lips pouted out towards you expectantly.

With a mock sigh you move onto the tips of your toes, and press a kiss to his lips softly. A satisfied rumble escapes his chest and you almost let out a laugh at the thought that he resembled a large black cat purring.

Jumin can feel your smile on his lips, and a small growl slips through his mouth. He nips your bottom lip, as if asking how you could dare to think of other things. You pull away, cheeks flushed and your heart a flutter for more. Always more. Jumin’s thumb runs over your lip slowly, as if he were preparing himself to part with you for eternity.

“I’m going love.”

With a nod you smile at him, handing him his brief case and waving him goodbye out the door.

With a sigh you stared at the door. Honestly, it wasn’t like he would be gone forever. With a huff you rolled your eyes at your own clinginess.

Something soft and warm brushes in between your legs, and you look down with a smile.

“Good morning Elizabeth. You just missed your father.” You laugh, scooping her up into your arms. The cat begins to let out purrs instantly.

You laugh, “Like father like daughter.”


You spent the rest of the day tidying the house and baking sweets. Baking had always been your passion, and you thought that you were pretty good at it! You ran a small bakery, and even sold your goods online!

You set a small plate of lemon bars on the counter, saving them for Jumin before scooping Elizabeth the Third up and settling onto the couch to watch some tv.

Flickering through the channels you smiled as your phone chime went off.

Jumin : I miss you.

You: I miss you t-

“…Mr. Han! Please, tell us your thoughts on your son’s engagement!”

Those words catch your attention, and you stop mid text, your eyes returning to the tv screen. Elizabeth the Third meows loudly.

It was no secret to you that Mr. Han wasn’t fond of you. Jumin had taken you along to enough business parties for you to begin noticing Mr. Han’s annoyed glances towards. Or his refusal to speak to you. Mr. Han didn’t approve of you, but there was no way he would claim that you and Jumin weren’t engaged on national television was there?

Jumin and arguments with his father often about you. It always killed you to see Jumin argue with his father, knowing full well just how much Jumin respected him. In the end, the arguments were always one and the same. If you belonged in the Han family.  

“He isn’t a bad man MC.”

Jumin had once whispered those words into your ears. And though you wanted to believe him, how could you?

Your eyes refocused back to the images on the screen. Mr. Han’s stern face was masked in unamusement. And you fiddled with the engagement ring on your finger nervously. Next to you your phone begins to ring loudly. It’s Jumin. Ahhh…he must have realized that you’d be watching.

You pick up the call quietly, pressing the phone to your ear, knowing full well he’d just continue to call if you ignored him. Your eyes never leave the screen, and your heart begins to beat rapidly as you wait for Mr. Han to respond.

“Turn it off.” Jumin’s voice booms through the cell phone, angrily. Worridly.

“It’s alright.” You reassure him. “I just…want to see what he says for myself.”

You hear Jumin let out an exasperated sigh, “My love-”

“What engagement?”

Those words echo off the tv, and they cause your heart to stop in your chest.

On the screen Mr. Han stares directly into the camera, as if knowing that you would be watching.

“My son has no partner. My son is not engaged.” He states, his eyes never leaving the screen.

The reporter lets out an awkward laugh, “But sir, we have reports that Mr. Jumin has gotten engaged to MC. We even have reports that they live together.”

Mr. Han lets out a patient sigh. “ Simply puppy love. He’s just infatuated with the girl. He is my son after all.” He jokes, causing the sea of reporters around him to laugh as well.

Your lips tremble slightly as you turn off the tv. Rejected. Mr. Han just rejected your engagement to the whole wide world.

“MC.” Jumin’s voice calls out from the speaker, and you jump slightly, having forgotten that he was on the line. From the sound of his voice, you can tell that he too, watched the broadcast.

“I’m alright.” You state, lips trembling a little more, the diamond ring on your finger shining brightly at you.

“I’m alright.” You whisper again, covering your shaking lips as tears fall from your eyes. You refuse to let Jumin know that you’re crying.

Jumin’s soft curse under his breath lets you know that you’re failing at masking your voice.

“I’ll call him right now. I’ll make him announce our engagement. I’ll-”

“It’s okay Jumin.” You cut him off.

“Let him be, it’s alright. I’m alright.” You say gently.

The other side of the line grows quiet, and then finally, “I wish I were there to hold you.”

You let out a small laugh as a sniffle escapes you, “That would only spell trouble for Jaehee.”

“Doesn’t matter.” The smile in his voice makes your heart loosen slightly.

“Come home quickly, I miss you.” You say no longer caring just how needy you sound.

“I’ll try my love. After all, we do have very important guests coming later tonight.”

You smile at that, “You adore my younger sister way too much.”

Jumin lets out a deep chuckle, “And our niece is even cuter.”


You let out a content sigh as you examined the table spread you had set up. An elegant white table cloth clothed the smooth ebony table, held in place by a vase full of peonies (Easter egg! Go read peonies if you haven’t ^^) that you had placed as a centerpiece. White plates with gold spirals stood guard along the edge of the table, the gold matching the faint yellow of the napkins.

You smiled as your eyes drifted to the corner of the table. A child’s high chair stood right in between two dining ones, and you let out a laugh as you saw how out of place it was.

Ding

The sound of the doorbell draws your attention away from the table.

“Coming~” You say as you make your way towards the front door.

You swing the door open with a large smile on your face.

Your younger sister stands in the doorway, a similar smile on her face.

“Hey!” She greets cheerfully, and you quickly pull her into a hug before making way for her to enter the penthouse.

“Wow…’ She breaths as she enters. She sets the car seat in her hands gently on the floor, looking around the penthouse in wonder. “You know, I’ll never wrap my head around the fact that you live here.”

You laugh in answer, you attention solely on the angel strapped inside the car seat. You snap the handle back, and smile down at the little girl buckled inside.

“Hello Akari” You whisper quietly as you lift your niece out of the seat.

She giggles in your arms, blubbering when you rub your nose gently across hers.

“How old is she now?” You ask your sister, turning to face her as you place Akari on your hips.

“She’s about a year now.” Your sister answers, eyes bright as she watches the two of you.

The two of you play with Akari for a while, watching her explore the penthouse and babbling away.

The sound of the front door opening draws your attention away. Jumin’s home!

You snatch Akari up from the floor, ignoring your sister who laughs at you, as you make your way to welcome Jumin.

“Akari, look who’s ho-” You stop short as you look up from the baby in your arms.

Rigid eyes greet you. Slightly shorter. Slightly more grey hair. Mr. Han.

The smile falls off your face instantly.

“M-Mr. Han.” You stutter out, your mouth suddenly dry. Why was he here?

Mr. Han looks around the penthouse slowly, eyes stopping briefly to look at your sister, at Akari, and then finally, back on you.

“I see that Jumin isn’t home yet.” He states.

You nod quietly, giving a little jump as you reposition Akari.

“Ms. MC, my son tells me that you’re quite intelligent.” Mr. Han says.

You backtrack. What?

“He flatters me Mr. Han.” You reply curtly.

You finally move your eyes to his own, and you instantly regret your choice.

An ugly sneer replaces his emotionless face. “Yes, it would seem that my son does flatter you. A little too much. You would think that someone with intelligence would take the hint after watching today’s interview.”

His words pierce your heart. But Mr. Han isn’t finished.

“And would you look at this!” He exclaims, gesturing to your sister and Akari.

“I’ve read up on your family Ms. MC. Your sister got involved with a bad man. Not only did he swindle her of everything, he even left her with a child! I’m not sure how you tricked Jumin, but I can see right through you.”

You rush to explain, “No Mr. Han it isn’t like that, I promise you! Most of the debt is already paid, Jumin doesn’t even know anything about i-”

“I will never accept you as my daughter-in-law.”

Mr. Han’s words cut you off harshly. He glares at you from where he stands, until his eyes slowly fall onto Akari, as if remembering that an infant were present this whole time.

“I won’t ever accept you. You, or your future children.”

His words come out like venom. They poison the air and taint the feelings in your heart.

As if on queue, Akari begins to cry, loud wails echoing off the empty walls. Off of Mr.Han. Your heart wrenches in your chest. It’s almost as if Akari cries for you.

Instantly your sister rushes forward from off the couch to take her daughter and you let her, stuck frozen in place from Mr. Han’s words.  After a few moments Akari’s cries turn to sniffles, and Mr. Han clears his throat as he prepares to leave.

“Please don’t let this drag on Ms. MC.” He says, before shutting the door firmly behind him. Shutting the door, on you.  


Annnnnnnnnd that’s that! I swear it’ll get more interesting soon!!!! Like I said before, I’m simply setting the stage at the moment. 

As always, thank you all for your endless support, and look forward to chapter 2 ^^

anonymous asked:

Can I resend my graves request about him falling for somebody he was initially irritated by? If this doesn't inspire you though then just ignore it lol 🙂🙂

Here you go! There will be time lapses! This turned out way longer than I expected lol

Master list

Imagine: Graves falling for you despite his original annoyance with you.

“Another screw up?” He asked, irritation clear in his tone. He didn’t understand what you were doing even working at MACUSA, week by week it was just another mistake of yours that slowed his work process down.

“Yes sir…” You dropped your head down, not wanting to meet his disappointed gaze. You admired Mr. Graves so much, he was the best of the best, and yet no matter how hard you tried nothing ever seemed to go your way.

The director tossed the folder of paperwork onto his desk, rubbing at his temples as he tried to figure out a way to correct the mistakes. The paperwork would take forever to go through now.

“Do you like your job, Ms, Y/N?”

You glanced up, eyes a bit wide at his sudden question. But, the beat of your picked up its pace and you worried so for your future here.

“I-I do, sir. Very much.”

He leaned back in his chair, kicking his boots up on the desk as he stared you down. “Then I suggest you start lessening your incessant need to make mistakes.”

The threat was evident on his voice, and you felt much like a child being scolded by a parent. This was torture, and you felt the beginnings of tears in your eyes.

“I promise to try harder, sir. I’m so sorry.” You bowed a bit, trying to show some respect before you moved to leave his office.

He watched you go, dark eyes following every movement as he thought deeply to himself. You were a constant headache for him, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty over the dejected state you were in.

****

You rushed down the halls of the large building, apologizing to the other aurors as you bumped into them. You had just finished up all your reports and you were eager to hand them to Mr. Graves yourself. You had looked over every little detail, and even asked your friend for help to make sure nothing was missing. Hopefully, he’d be congratulating you this time…

“Mr. Graves!”

You opened the door to his office, smiling widely until you saw Madame Picquery standing there, stern look on her face. Just your luck that he would be having a meeting with the president.

“I-….” You blushed deeply in embarrassment, suddenly feeling very small.

Graves raised his eyebrow at you, letting out a sigh as he apologized to the president. She just waved him off, giving you a small smile before excusing herself. You watched her go, swallowing the nervous lump that had developed in your throat.

“I sincerely hope you have a good reason to be barging into my office without a knock.” He warned, taking a seat as he picked up his pen and began writing down some information.

“Well I…um…”

“Out with it…” He grew annoyed, tilting his head towards you in frustration.

“I finished my reports, sir. I just wanted to deliver them to you…”

He seemed slightly impressed by that, and he held his hand out for you to hand him the folders. He opened them up, clasping his hands together and resting his chin atop them as he read over your work. He had to admit, these were far more detailed than your last ones, and as far as any errors went he could find none. He closed the folder, not even glancing up at you as he continued his own work.

“Good job.”

As far as compliments from the director went, this was probably as good as it got, and you would take that. You smiled brightly, clapping your hands cheerfully as you thanked him for his time.

“Thank you, sir! I promise not to let you down again!”

You turned on your heel, and as you moved to open his office door you tripped over the trash can, barely catching yourself on the doorframe. The bang of the metal drum rang loudly through the halls and his office, making him look up at you.

You stood silently against the door, eyes screwed shut in disbelief of your clumsiness. You finally got a moment to shine, and then this. How perfect, you thought. With a sigh, you mumbled an apology and slowly walked out of the room after putting his trash can back.

Unbeknownst to you though, Graves had watched the whole thing with a small grin on his face that he hid behind his hands.

*****

Percival strode down the hallway, briefcase in hand as he headed towards his office, he was beyond exhausted. The last few nights trying to deal with an investigation had finally taken a toll on him, and all he wanted was to finish up his reports and head home. He turned the corner, stopping when he saw you walking into his office with a pile of papers. They were no doubt more paperwork on the case from the other aurors. With a heavy sigh he continued on, stopping in his tracks when he found you halfway under his desk. You were scrambling around, cursing to yourself about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“What are you doing?”

You squeaked in surprise, instinctively jumping back only to hit your head hard against his wooden desk.

“Ow!”

You held your sore head in your hands, trying hard not to cry at the pain.

“I was just…”

Truth is, you managed to drop all his folders when you came in. And your luck would have it that he showed up just now.

Graves looked down at the floor, gritting his teeth when he saw all the papers scattered about. He would’ve yelled just then, completely done with all the issues of this week, but when you looked up at him, cheeks stained red, and eyes looking as innocent as ever…he didn’t have it in him anymore.

He placed his briefcase on the desk, kneeling down next to you as he started to reach for the papers. You quickly started doing the same, trying to stop him from helping.

“Oh no, Sir! Please let me, it was my fault after all!”

As you went to retrieve one, your hands brushed, and you both froze. His fingers hovered just above your hand, yet the heat of his palm was still felt. Just then your heart skipped a beat, blood rushing to your face even more now and all you could do was stare down at your hands in wonder.

Graves looked up at you, his expressive eyes staring straight into your soul and making you fidget nervously. You should’ve moved, but his gaze held you in place.

He let his fingers trial softly over the back of your hand, sending a shock of electricity throughout both your bodies that even caught him by surprise. He held his breath for only a second, before he let his fingers slide off your hand and he grabbed the paper.

“Go get us some coffee. I’ll pick this up.”

You were somewhat at a loss for words, your heart was still beating madly in your chest and you stared up at him with a shocked look.

“Sir?”

“Coffee. Black.”

You nodded quickly and ran out of his office.

****

Graves chuckled softly at your words, taking a sip from his mug as he spoke.

“What kind of American doesn’t like coffee?”

You smiled sheepishly, organizing the papers in his filing cabinet. The past few weeks had been spent like this, and your boss slowly began to warm up to your presence. Ever since that brush of skin things had been different. Though he still made you nervous.

“I suppose that is un-American of me.”

“Hm.”

Graves watched you closely, eyeing you over the rim of his coffee mug as you leaned forward to put a paper away. He wasn’t sure how this happened, or even where it began. Somehow you worked your way into his very heart and it drove him endlessly mad. He was always far too busy in his career to even pursue romantic relationships. The furthest he’d go is taking a woman home and that’d be the end of that. Yet, you made him stop that all together. Perhaps it was the one night he shared with another coworker, only to look down and see your face moaning in pleasure beneath him. Whatever the case, he couldn’t bring himself to let you go. That’s why he invited you here so often, of course he never stated that though. He wasn’t sure how to further this…whatever it was.

Perhaps it was your clumsy nature that made him like you, it was rather endearing at times. You always got this embarrassed wide eyed look that made it hard not to smile at. Or maybe it was your eagerness to please him. You were simply cute, a breath of fresh air amongst the stern women he worked around.

He looked you over, running a hand through his slicked back hair as he took in every detail. From the way you hummed peacefully to yourself, to the way you bit your lip in thought. It was all so tempting a sight, and he’d be damned if any other man took that from him.

****

“Mr. Abernathy, that’s very kind of you but I’m not-”

“Oh come on, just one date?”

Your supervisor smiled at you, leaning over the front desk as he tried his hardest to convince you. But, you weren’t interested in him one bit, you knew his reputation around here after all.

“I really-”

“Abernathy, shouldn’t you be off supervising the wand permits?”

Graves leaned against the counter, glaring at the shorter man. Abernathy, ever fearful of the director, nodded quickly and rushed off down the hall, nervously looking back at you both.

You sighed in relief, giving Percival a grateful smile. “Thank you. He’s a very persistent man.”

“He’s a rat.”

You giggled at that, getting up from your chair as Graves motioned for you to follow him. The wall to his office was rather silent, and you kept stealing glances his way in wonder. You hoped you hadn’t done something wrong.

“Mr. Graves-”

“Percival is fine.”

A smile made its way onto your face, and you nodded happily at that. “Percival…is everything okay?”

He ignored that, and as soon as he stepped into the office with you he shut his door, grabbing your arm and pushing you against the wall. The papers you held flew everywhere, and you gasped as his lips descended onto yours.

“Mm!”

Your hands flailed around for a second, trying to comprehend what was happening. But, the warmth of his mouth on yours made you melt into the kiss, and you slowly let your eyes flutter closed.

Graves held you firmly against him and the wall, his hands trailing down your sides and resting on your waist. He had waited far too long to do this, and as your superior he should’ve thought it through a little more but right now he didn’t care. He pulled away, his warm breath brushing across your cheek as he spoke.

“What have you done to me…?”

*****

Hope you liked!

Originally posted by pinktrouble

bringing the war home (a series for the women of the mcu)

depends on where you’re standing
(a sharon carter story)

Some aunts take you to mass, but Sharon’s took her to the shooting range. 

Sharon Carter grew up knowing the feel of bullets in her fingers, not rosaries. She learned Mandarin, German and Japanese, not Latin, because Latin was a dead language and Sharon, even at eight, knew her work would be for the living. 

all things to all people all of the time
(a natasha romanoff story)

The Winter Soldier did not leave witnesses, but he had left her by that cliff outside of Odessa. Was Natasha an exception? Or did she not count as a witness? Had he looked at her and seen the same black button eyes reflected back at him, the on/off switch, the tick of clockwork?

Years later, Natasha watched the Soldier slam into the freeway concrete. The bullet holes in her abdomen had healed, and she knew this thing did not consider itself a person.

They were animate objects, both of them, useless in the witness stand. He hadn’t pulled the car transmission out, after all, hadn’t stripped the cell phone in the victim’s pocket, or shot up the rocks at the side of that road outside Odessa. He hadn’t shot her. He had left her there, breathing, and the Winter Soldier didn’t leave witnesses.

On cold nights, Natasha dreamed of ballerinas: porcelain, exquisite, their ribs jutting out stark under their skin.

that’s my official statement
(a maria hill story) (podfic here!)

The helicarrier rumbled under her feet and Fury ran a fond hand along one metal wall, like Coulson did with that car of his, the way Sharon stood in the Triskelion and nearly glowed. 

Fury called it cancer once, after Loki’s attack was over, once Barton was back in the fold and New York saved. Maria kept in step behind him as Fury walked the helicarrier halls, reviewed the damage, as he mourned.

“No, sir,” she said. “Just war.”

on the verge of understanding something extraordinary
(a jane foster story)

“Jane, you’re an astrophysicist, not a storm chaser,” said Erik Selvig, and he was wrong. She was just an astrophysicist too.

my heart has no place in this
(a lady sif story)

Sif put on her armor in cold mornings and thought, “Once I wished for this.” What did she wish for now?

No matter. She was tired. She was mourning. But she could imagine no life but this. Any other life would make her pale and fade. This one made her burn, iron at the heart of a flame, the heart of a star, and she could imagine no other way worth living.

i am not dying for six college credits
(a darcy lewis story)

On a stormy desert night, a roaring giant of a man turned to Darcy Lewis and she tasered him in the chest.

She didn’t hesitate, wince, or apologize.

If you don’t want to get electrocuted by a civilian Midgardian, don’t charge at her on a dark and stormy night. Dangerous things come in small packages.

You’d think Loki’s brother would know that—but, ah, yes, back then Thor still had a lot to learn.

let the girl go
(a melinda may story)

The Cavalry once killed twenty men with a single pistol, they say.

Or maybe it was fifty.

The Cavalry once killed a hundred men, they say, on other days, around other campfires, these future agents of SHIELD, these gossipy children. On horseback, they tell the freshmen, and snicker. A hundred men.

The number trips off the tongue. The methods vary, the numbers, and they all trip off the tongue easily—what is twenty dead villains? A hundred? A good day’s work. We’re the heroes, after all.

Fifty, twenty, a hundred—they’re all just syllables. All just sizes of victories, not a careful count of gasping faces.

The Cavalry killed twenty—fifty—a hundred men, and Melinda May saw the light go out of each of them.

As a child, Melinda used to steal the plastic lid off the kitchen trash can, mount it on one arm, and charge out into the backyard to save the world with her plastic shield.

i made a name for myself
(another natasha romanoff story)
(incorporates age of ultron)

Clint taught his kids handstands and cartwheels from his circus days. They play-wrestled in the grass until Cooper decided he was done with this whole physical contact thing, or until they knocked Clint’s hearing aids out.

Natasha taught the kids to throw knives into fence posts, and pretended those skills were from a circus or lazy country summer days, too.

about damn time
(a story for hope van dyne)

Hope van Dyne was scared of heights from age seven onwards. The first time she had to get on a plane (age ten), she sat stony-faced, staring out the window, not looking at her father, the half-moons of her nails biting deep into her chubby palms. When she was thirteen years old, she asked her father for flying lessons.

That should have been her first hint, that when she asked for flying lessons for her birthday, he did not automatically realize this was about her mother. 

But perhaps– perhaps even if it had been true, the airplane crash, perhaps her father still would not have understood. He was not the kind of man who found the things he feared most, tracked them down, and then slew them with their own poison.

i can tell the difference
(a story for laura barton)

Laura hadn’t fallen for Clint first; she had been struck first, though. And, yes, she had heard all the possible jokes about Cupid and his arrows, thank you very much for your contribution.

But it was still true: she hadn’t fallen first. Laura had been struck, first, curious about this boy—distracted, rumpled, so very human—and his perfect, perfect aim. You don’t get perfect marksmanship by being born with it.

Laura sat forward the first time she saw him, this circus kid who gulped from a stained coffee cup before stumbling onstage and proceeding to take eighteen perfect shots, with three different bows, four of them without even looking.

Laura leaned forward. These things were not gifts.

everybody is afraid of something
(a story for wanda maximoff)

In an open-air cafe in Lagos, Nigeria, Wanda had close-bitten, black-painted nails. She put real sugar in her coffee. When she said we, these days, she did not always mean Pietro. But, sometimes, she did. 

anonymous asked:

So, what if Guz has a thing for chubby/over weight girls, but since he lives on a beach island, they're hard to come by, and completely falls head over heels for the new chick on the island. The grunt girls don't get it and think it's a joke so they pick on her and take her Galvantula after a few very difficult attempts. Guzma is furious and there's hell to pay but he's still a nervous faux confident dork when trying to return him to her.

I wanted to make this a little happier. so only one grunt makes fun of you. The other ones including Guzma just wanna smash. (and go out with you)

“Hmmmmooooooooh my god! Baby girl’s got it goin’ on wit that booty eatin’ up them lil’ shorts!”

“Right?! Brah how the shit we gonna talk to baby girl? Gotta think a somethin’ original. Somethin’ that’ll make her all hot ‘n bothered!”

The grunts had Guzma at “booty eatin’ up them lil’ shorts”, which for various reasons got his attention and caused him to lean over the decrepit railing a little further to hear what the two boys at the bottom of the staircase were saying. Guzma was on the rebound. One of the girl grunts with stringy pink hair hadn’t been wifey material. Too high strung for his taste, and so skinny and obsessed with her looks that it had tired him out trying to reassure her after a while. But when she hit him after he disagreed with her that had been the final straw. So despite the tears and text messages begging him to get back together with her, Guzma was on the lookout for another piece of ass.

Shame he couldn’t find anyone to make it worthwhile. He watched with a snarl on his face as the grunts below were gesticulating wildly, talking about a “super cute shorty” that had been at the malasada shop in Malie City. You were supposedly a new face compared to the same old locals they saw day in and day out, had been feeding a dry malasada to your spider pokemon that Guzma assumed was an Ariados until he heard:

“Nah man, that ain’t no weird Ariados like Boss Man got.” Said one. “That’s a Galvantula.”

“Hoooooh boy, God been reading my dreams.” Moaned the other. “The hell I gotta do to get a piece of that thick, strong Pokémon trainer ass? I’d give anything for her to talk to me… Totally fucked it up when she looked at me an’ I threw West side at her!”

“ ‘s one a them reflexes.” Replied the other, patting his friend’s shoulder. “She come up to me wantin’ to know where the library was at ‘n I fuckin’ axed her if she wanted to battle! Wiped the floor with my sorry ass using like two bug Pokémon, but she put my money in her back pocket! Like to think that’s kinda the same thing as touchin’ that juicy booty a hers.”

Now he was extremely interested. In fact Guzma was just about to go downstairs and ask the boys where they’d last seen you when another grunt, couldn’t have been more than thirteen, came running at them with a rather cute little purse in the shape of a watermelon.

“Look guys!” he squeaked. “Got that ugly hoe’s Pokémon for ya! It’s one a them spiders right? Wonder how much its worth. Stupid easy to swipe from that dumb bitch when she went to pick up her napkin from under the table!”

He began laughing. Thinking naively that he’d done good, that he’d probably even be commended for his good work. In the middle of a hearty laugh he was about to ask his brothers if he’d done good, when a large hand swiped the bag from his hands before the two grunts could lay into him.

“Boss man?!” one of your admirers squeaked. Guzma looked harshly at the young one with an expression that indicated he’d get a good beating later for being cruel. He briefly asked the two where you were headed to last, got two very shaky replies that he could find you in the library if he hurried before it closed, and immediately was out the door stomping off into the rain.

Turns out he didn’t have to walk far. He found you immediately in Ula’Ula Meadow, the only one there crying as though your heart was about to break. A kind little girl was rubbing your back, trying to console you by insisting together with her and her partner Oricorio you would all find your companions.

“We’ll find your friends.” She said gently, rubbing your back. “Galvantula aren’t common here. Someone’s bound to, oh! Please sir!”

She flagged Guzma down, running swiftly over to him.

“My friend… She can’t find her Pokemon! Someone took her bag and everything when she was picking some trash off the floor. Have you seen a bag that looks like a yellow and red watermelon? It’s got a Galvantula, Dewpider, and a Fomantis!”

Guzma was so captivated when you looked over at him, eyes widening in realization when you saw the bag that hung limply at his side. He tried to hold it out to the lass in front of him, attempting to speak, but your captivating glance rendered him mute.

“My bag!” you cried joyously, running towards him and taking it gratefully. “You found my bag!”

“That’s your bag?” asked the other girl, stars in her eyes as she looked at Guzma innocently. “Wow! Thank you so much sir! You have no idea how much it means to her!”

Nothing came out of his mouth. His entire being was consumed with the way you smiled, with the way you wrapped your chubby arms around him and cuddled him in a hug. You were vastly tiny compared to him, but he couldn’t help but understand what the grunts were talking about.

Every aspect of you was adorable, from your cute head with a sunhat to your cute feet.

“…Welcome…” he muttered.

“I have to thank you somehow mister!” you insisted, still holding him in a hug and looking up innocently. “Let me treat you to something? You like malasadas? I can get you all the ones you want?”

He might’ve said yes, because the last thing he knew was that he was tripping over his own two feet in his haste to follow you through the meadow and off to town where you were going to treat him to a meal.

This must have been what winning the lottery felt like.

A Blind Path Home, part 6

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I obviously took some liberties with the storyline, but I tried keeping it as true as possible to the canon history. No beta used this time around, so excuse my mistakes.

Summary: It started with a blind date. A date you had skipped out on, but fate had led you right to the man you stood up. Steve Rogers, a man small in stature but big in heart. A chance meeting set everything in motion, but decades later when he is unfrozen, he has been told you have died. But when a mission to retrieve Hydra plans turned up some interesting information, Steve’s left to wonder whether you are still alive. Or is this all just false hope?

Masterlist (if it works - links have been shity lately)

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