anonymous asked:

"Watching a horror movie" + Laven + fanfic!

There you go c: !! Some fluff ♥
(For the prompt meme)

“When you said you wanted me to come over so we could watch a movie together, I really didn’t expect… this.” Lavi’s voice was quiet, a mere whisper as if he was afraid he’d scare Allen if he’d make a sudden noise. Allen just chuckled, his eyes never leaving the screen of the TV.

“C'mon Lavi, it’s just a movie and it’s the first time I asked you to watch one with me.” Allen couldn’t suppress a laugh at that and Lavi could almost feel how amused Allen was about this whole situation. Sometimes he wondered if he should be worried about the fact that Allen enjoyed horror movies so much. That this innocent-looking teen enjoyed and grinned and laughed at those movies and liked every form of horror. The redhead even felt a little upset that Allen simply chuckled when Lavi told him he couldn’t watch those kind of movies without being scared. Even if Allen told him he wasn’t making fun of him - he only thought it was cute.

As if he still wanted to apologise for this, Allen cuddled up closer to Lavi, wrapping his fingers around one of Lavi’s hands while he moved his thumb across the back of his hand in soothing circles. Lavi’s eyes were focused on their entwined hands but the smile was quickly wiped away when a high pitched screech from one of the victims came out of the TV. Lavi almost jumped at the sudden noise, making Allen grin.

“Still scared?” The younger teen asked.

Lavi reached out to pinch Allen’s cheek. “No.” He lied.

Maybe he wouldn’t be scared if Allen wouldn’t have insisted to watch this movie in complete darkness, alone and sitting on their couch in the middle of the room past midnight. This only made things worse for the redhead but Allen seemed to get a weird thrill out of this. And Lavi could never say no to his boyfriend so he agreed.

“I’ll make it up to you after the movie.” Allen suddenly whispered and pressed a soft kiss to Lavi’s nose before looking back at the TV.

“This sounds way better than what we’re doing right now.”

“Stop complaining. I’m always watching those boring documentaries with you after all without saying anything.”


Lavi sounded as if Allen had just insulted him instead of one of those documentaries so Allen decided to give in - for now. With one swift motion he moved his leg over Lavi’s so he could push himself onto his lap and straddle him. “How about I’ll make it up to you while we’re watching the movie? Maybe it’ll take away your fear of horror movies?” Allen suggested, already moving his lips along the redhead’s jaw, gently nibbling at the smooth skin.

Lavi felt his heart starting to beat faster in his chest, his cheeks flushed red at the thought. “Should I be worried that blood and horror turn you on?” He asked, eliciting another chuckle from Allen who already worked his hands under Lavi’s shirt.

“Maybe? But I don’t think you mind.” Allen replied with a suggestive smile, pulling Lavi in for a proper kiss on his lips, sliding his tongue out to part Lavi’s lips. Lavi only sighed, easing into Allen’s touch. His boyfriend was right. No, he really didn’t mind at all.

Past Lives - Part 1

hey guys! long time, no see… i’m honestly so so sorry about my extended hiatus, but it’s been such a busy year… any who, I’m back for now! and here’s a reincarnation!AU feat. our favorite smoking-hot MPD officer, Kirisawa! (see what i did there?)


I knew Kirisawa for less than half an hour before he was taken from me the first time. It was the height of the Roman Empire, and everyone who lived in Rome went to the gladiator games. 

Looking back on it now, the things we were amused by were barbaric. Hordes of people crammed into the Colosseum to watch criminals be torn apart by tigers, the Caesar’s soldiers, and sometimes, each other. We laughed at swords shoved through stomachs, at teeth ripping flesh, at the sight of blood painting pictures of horror on a floor that had seen too much death. But we didn’t care. It was entertainment. We weren’t the ones who were being killed for sport, so why should we feel bad for those who were?

It was a hot summer day. Most of the men were out at war, and tensions ran high, the perfect afternoon for some entertainment. I had been too busy to attend the gladiator fights in the past couple of months, my time occupied with assisting my mother in her weaving to help pay for the war. This particular afternoon, though, she gave me a much-needed day off, telling me to go “enjoy myself.” Well, the only entertainment provided today was of the deadly kind. I’d never been much of one that could stomach the amount of carnage the games produced, but it’s just what we did back then.

 I trudged into the Colosseum with all of the eager people, and somehow, I found myself standing right at the edge of the arena: a thick, rock wall separating me from the killings. The floor itself was lowered. A person bending over the wall would still be a few inches higher than the head of a gladiator.

Soon, the doors opened, revealing a group of about five or so gladiators dressed in the garb of some enemy army. We all booed at the sight of them. 

Then, another door opened, and a single man walked out to the sound of raucous applause, cheering, and screaming. The man seemed to be wearing fine, gilded armor, and no helmet covered his head. In the face of death, he wore an almost calm expression, his hands resting at his sides, an easy posture. His black hair shone almost the color of the deepest, darkest night sky. The sight of him literally took my breath away. All around me, the people chanted:

“Demigod, Demigod, Demigod!!”

Was that his title? Demigod? I turned toward the brutish man next to me.

“Pardon me, sir, but who is that gladiator the people call “Demigod?” I asked, fingers tugging on the beaded necklace I always wore.

His expression was one of shock, as if I had claimed that I killed the Caesar with a butter knife. “T-that’s Demigod! The greatest fighter this place has seen in years!”

“Surely this will be a battle he can’t win, then? One man against five? They seem twice his size, and twice his bloodlust!” 

“Well, this’ll definitely test his true strength in battle,” the man said, scratching his beard. “The gods have been generous to him, but that generosity might not help him today. But it’ll be a good fight today!””

I could only frown at his words. Pulling my necklace over my head, I rubbed the beads between my palms, an old habit I had when especially nervous.

There was no possible way he could be victorious, even with his nice armor. Every person had a favorite gladiator that we cheered for, but even when they died, it wasn’t a massive loss to us. We never got too attached to them. But this man? I couldn’t help but feel as if there was something about him, something that attracted my soul to his. And it wasn’t just his dashing good looks.

My eyes stalked his frame as he lapped around the arena, waving at the crowds, picking up some flowers a few women threw down at him. With every progressive step towards me, my heart thudded louder and louder. He was gorgeous. Gentle, calm eyes the color of deep obsidian glittered in the light of the sun. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword while the other held on to a perfect sunflower. 

He was utterly and completely beautiful, and I was utterly and completely captivated my him.

By now, he was a few paces away from my place at the wall. People all around me jostled back and forth, trying to get a closer look at Demigod. In their pushing, they shoved me forward. I slammed my hands on the edge of the barrier to keep myself from falling into the dreaded arena, but in doing so, my necklace slipped from my hands to the arena below. If not for my better sense, I might have flung myself over the wall to retrieve, but I held myself back. It was the final gift my father gave me before he left for war.

I had resigned myself to the necklace’s fate when slowly, slowly, oh so slowly, a gauze-wrapped hand gently picked it up from the dust. Holding my breath, I watch the slow, even movements of the midnight-haired gladiator cleaned any dust from the beads. 

Then, he lifted his head. His eyes locked with mine. The world stopped.

The entirety of Rome could have been under siege at that very moment, yet I would not have noticed. I could have been stabbed at that very moment, yet I would not have noticed. It was as if time had halted, reversed three thousand millennia, halted again, then shot forward into a future I could not see.

And then I came back to the present when his hand reached toward my own. 

“Yours, I believe,” he said, his voice a pleasant melody to the pounding voices of the people around me. His voice reminded me of horse hooves against cobblestoned roads: gravely and multidimensional, holding the stories of thousands of people I could never dream of meeting. 

When I still hadn’t moved, he cocked his head to the side, a crooked smile crept to his mouth. Taking one step closer to the wall, I realized he was as close to me as the wall would let him get, his face turned all the way up towards me.

“I do not think a lady would like to be parted from such a beautiful necklace. Please, miss,” he urged, his eyes and voice dancing with an emotion I could not place, “allow me to restore what you have lost.” His words sent a rush of heat towards my face.

And then, almost mechanically, I lowered my head closer toward him. I stopped just close enough for his arms to slide the necklace over my head, but he emitted a soft chuckle.

“Come a little closer, miss.” His eyes held a spark of mischief. “Or would you rather deny this ill-fated sinner his last request?” A small flash of sadness shot across his face, a tiny slip of how he truly felt in this arena.

Heart pounding, I lowered myself even more, bringing my face just inches from his own. Finally, I was able to find my words. “Whatever you wish, brave gladiator,” I breathed, and I meant it. “I will do anything you ask of me.”

His large hands had slipped the necklace onto my neck, but they soon came to rest on my face. 

“A good luck kiss?”

His words struck me speechless, struck me dumb, struck me immobile. I couldn’t kiss this man, much less kiss a criminal! But strangely… I wanted to see if his lips were as soft as they looked, as soft as his words.

And so, in a Colosseum full of bloodthirsty Romans, I kissed a handsome gladiator.

My eyes slipped closed as his mouth pressed urgently against mine, his fingers tangling in the snarls of my hair, pulling us closer, closer, impossibly closer together. He slanted his head, his nose brushing against my cheekbone as his lips began to move against my own. 

I cannot tell you how long we stayed like that. But inside of me, a thousand things happened all at once. Stars shot through my brain. Electricity tingled in the tips of my fingers. My chest caught fire. Ice slid down my throat. My insides were twisting together. And somewhere in the middle of it all, my brain decided to come back to life.

Suddenly, the sounds of the Colosseum wrenched me back to reality. The cacophonous noises of aghast people chafed against my ears, and I reeled back from the one they called Demigod. In shock, I brought my fingers to my still-tingling lips, and I locked eyes with him. 

He simply smiled at me, a lonely smile that foretold a dark future for him, and bowed to me. “You are most gracious, kind lady. I will not forget this kindness you have given me on my last day.”

Last day?

“Perhaps we will meet again in Elysium.” Then he turned around, and began to walk towards the five men eager to tear into his flesh. But I couldn’t let him just go like that.

“Wait!” I yelled desperately, pulse rushing and tears falling.

He stopped in his tracks, then turned toward me slowly. The look in his eyes was a sight I could never, ever erase from my mind. 

I tried to force words past the lump in my throat, but nothing would come out of my mouth. I couldn’t even find words to say. What could one say to a man condemned to death?

But he just smiled one last time, and said the words that have haunted my dreams in every life ever since:

“Find me in the future. I’ll be waiting for you.”

So that is how our story began, a fated meeting on a fated day between two fated people who were meant to love each other. In that life, I watched in horror as he sliced through three other gladiators, only to be torn apart by the remaining two. I’d like to say that our other lives were better, but I’d be lying to you. The greatest stories are the ones with the brutal truth.

And our story was the best of all.


Please tell me what you think!!!

- Thea

‘Friendzoned’ Part 5: Luke Hemmings Fanfic


I sat in a ball on the sofa in my apartment, phone in hand, texting Craig. My first single came out last month and it was doing pretty well on the charts. In about an hour, I had to leave for an awards show where Luke and I would ‘meet’. 

Text from: Craig

Hey, are you okay on what you need to do for tonight?

He was referring to the tight schedule he, Luke and I had planned out together, although I was still a little unsure as when to do what.

Text to: Craig

Still a little unsure as to the timing, but apart from that, yeah.

Text from:Craig

I’ll text you when you need to do stuff, okay?

Text to:Craig

Okay, thanks.

It amused me how cold Craig was when we first met. How he looked like one of those models on brochures for golfing holidays and acted like how you would expect. But now, he acts like how I did when I was fifteen around my best friend at a sleepover.

Text from:Luke

You nervous for your first award show?

Text to: Luke

Yeah, but I’d never admit that, ha.

Text to: Luke

It’ll be fine. And, come 11 pm, you won’t have to leave my side.

I was aware that he had a girlfriend, but I couldn’t deny how happy that text made me and how it calmed the whirlpool of butterflies in my stomach. God, I couldn’t wait to ‘meet’ him and be by his side all day. And I prayed that Phoebe, Alexa and Heather weren’t there. 

An hour later, there was a knock on my door. I opened the door to reveal a chauffeur, dressed in all black, sunglasses adorning the top of his head. He lead me out of my apartment complex to a slick, black limousine with blacked out windows.

After hopping in the back of the car, I stared out the windows at the blurring view as the driver whisked me away into the world of glitz and glamour I was almost sure I didn’t belong in. I gazed down at my tight fitting blue dress and the ruffles gathering around my silver heels. The car pulled up to the red carpet snapping me out of my daydream. The driver stepped out of the car and made his way over to my door and opened it. The muffled sound of cameras shuttering and photographers yelling intensified immediately as the door popped open, bring the surreal image before me into the real world.

I twirled in my dress, a smile as fake as a pageant queen’s plastered on every inch of my face. The small crowed of people positioned in front of me triggered a small pang of fear in my lower stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luke, Calum, Michael and Ashton being interviewed by some news outlet. Luke looked at me for a brief moment, a genuine smile creeping onto my face as soon as his eyes found mine, a giggle escaping as he rolled his eyes at the interviewer’s over-asked questions. He faced the interviewer again his eyes not leaving mine, until a bodyguard ushered me away from the paparazzi, and into the building beside me.

I survived the whole ordeal relatively well, seeing as I wasn’t relevant enough, nobody stopped me for photos or interviews. But at the moment I was stuck at an after party, all alone in the corner, timidly making eye contact with celebrities and taking sips of my cocktail when they scoffed and looked away.

Text from: Craig

Paparazzi's outside. Find Luke and ‘go back to his place’. TRY TO LOOK HAPPY. 

“Hey, I found you.” I pivoted around to see Luke.

“Hey, Craig just texted me. The paparazzi’s outside, we have to ‘go back to your place’ now.” I shouted above the noise of the blaring music, making air quotations as I did.

“Okay, let’s go,” He said putting his arm around me and pulling me closer, “Hey. Do you actually want to go back to my place. Not to do anything, just as friends. But it’ll also make it more realistic.” I nodded, coming off as more enthusiastic as I meant for it to be. 

We walked outside, a gust of cool air washing over me and leaving goosebumps in it’s trail. Luke ran his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm them up. I cocked my head into his chest and he hugged me closer into him. I looked up at him through my long, fluttery eyelashes, wanting nothing more than to kiss him there and then, but I didn’t want Phoebe to try to crush my soul more than she already wanted to. Cameras started flashing from behind a patch of trees, adjacent to the pathway we were walking on.

“Oh God.” Luke mumbled under his breath. I giggled at his annoyance. It didn’t suit him to be sarcastic. You wouldn’t expect it from someone so squishy and adorable. He pulled me even closer, and rushing me into the car at the end of the pathway. We drove away, seeing the photographers look down at their cameras and bragging to each other about the photos they got. Luke laid across his lap as we drove away to his place.

Not how I wanted to spend my day but it’s cute watching him sitting under his truck like a little kid. The profanities (not kid like) are amusing too. “you cocksucker!” He’s gonna kill me for this. No regrets.

#11 “I have been in love with you my entire life.”
#19 “I may be an ass, but I’m your ass.”
#53 “That is the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

“I’ve been in love with you…” Harvey babbles and you giggle, drinking the rest of your vodka. “..MY ENTIRE LIFE.”
Now you burst into laughter and slap him on the back of his head. “You’re mistaking me with someone else again, Bullock. We know each other since two years.”
Cocky you raise an eyebrow as he takes your hand and puts it dramatically on his chest.
“But it feels like a lifetime.” He says and pours another drink in your glasses.
“You’re such an arse.” Amused you shake your head and toast with him.
“May an ass, but I’m your ass.”
After you gulp down your drink you bend over to him and kiss him on the cheek, making him smile wide.
“So, what do you think about my plan?” Harvey asks, this time more serious.
“About the marriage?” He nods as responds and you smile. “That is the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

anonymous asked:

It makes me so sad that Brienne loved, respected, and was so loyal to Renly, when he was no different than the rest--he mocked her behind her back and looked down on her. Brienne is grateful for his kindness to her believing he was genuine. I just don't understand how Renly could do that to someone who held him in such high regard and would die for him. He didn't deserve Brienne's loyalty :(

I agree anon. :/ Renly was a vain prick, with no genuine respect or sympathy for unconventionally looking girls (never forget what he said about little Shireen, his own niece) and it’s really sad that Brienne spent so much time idealizing him. But not surprising; she was so used to mockery that being treated with the smallest amount of courtesy (really the bare minimum, coming from a man of Renly’s rank and education, a great lord, the king’s brother) was enough to earn her unwavering loyalty and love. It’s good though that Renly’s ghost is slowly being replaced by someone else in Brienne’s mind.

Can I just point out, after all this time, that it’s really weird being in the SS fandom as a demisexual...

Everyone is worshiping Jared Leto’s body or his dick or wishing he’d fuck them, and I have no way of understanding it at all. To me he’s just some guy with pretty eyes who sometimes says amusing things. I mean I have a crush on Joker and find him aesthetically pleasing, and I have used the word “horny” but not really in the true sense that others use it. I just sometimes think I need to use other people’s language to convey myself. I mean even there, I used the word “crush” when it’s really a “squish” – my fantasies about him are more about doing something fun with him, cuddling him, or straight up BEING him.

So… yeah.

Edit: Maybe it is a crush? Is crush just romantic feelings? ‘Cause he could take me on a date and maybe I’d make out with him, but it wouldn’t go any further. lol Actually, that’s a lie. He could maybe convince me to– y-y-you know what, I am going to extricate myself from this topic. ;D

anonymous asked:

Right now I'm tornw between "boy I love the first Balbadd/Sindria arc because Sinbad was so adorkable I miss that fucker so much" and "holy shit but look at this guy trying to destroy god because he fucking wants to how rad is that". In short I think I'm tied to love this asshole no matter what shit he does its painful and amusing to watch you got me?

I can feel you anon-san!

I like Sinbad’s development through all the magi and snb arcs. I enjoy both his most heroic and his most shady acts. I appreciated how well developed and complex character he is and I can’t get enough of him :)


“You got in a scuffle with a sword?!” I asked surprised with a small grin.

“Aye, lad! You know, sword, sharp, metaly, has pointy end you poke people with,” he explained clearly amused.

“I know what a sword is,” I laughed. “I’m just curious how that happened.”

“Oh, you know, lad. The sword got between me and a very, very big arsewipe,” he explained. “Went right through, came out the back.”

Now I was starting to not take that seriously. “Right through?!”

“Aye, lad. Of course you don’t believe me on that one,” and he shrugged. 

“And how’d you came out of that one?”

“Like I said, the sword lost,” he answered. “I had this friend of mine, lovely lass, who kicked the sword right into the gullet of the very big arsewipe, and carried me back to safety bridal style. Lovely scene!”

I laughed at the ridiculous account. “So, you’re an actor too for a B-rated movie?”

“You know self-derogatory dialogue is a sign of low self-esteem, right lass?” He asked.


“It wasn’t directed at you,” and he grinned.

Stop breaking the forth wall Mal!

moonspite  asked:

♂ was Nath ever intimidated by you?

“’Intimidated’…” The old man parroted with subtle amusement in a deep, yet froggish, voice weathered by time, smoke, and far too much drink. “My errant subject is terrified of me and even just the thought of me haunts it as it sleeps.” A fact that he almost seemed to be proud of, if only for the way his crooked lips curled in an almost-secret smile.

“Not like I can blame it… It was supposed to be my successor, if you would. My second chance. My…. everything.” A hint of disdain seeped into his voice as he drummed far-too-thin fingers against his weathered and mistreated desk, his yellowed fingernails accidentally scraping against the abused woodwork.

“Yet despite my failure, I take some delight in knowing how much it rails at trying to not be like me, only to be more similar to myself than it could ever imagine.”

pretty sure the sitting is worse than smoking thing is something granger got from deeks when he was on the walking desk trend.

Even if it’s not directly canon i chose to believe it because Granger retaining the info from Deeks’ weird obsessions amuses me way too much not to.