i end up drawing all my favorite people in a dress

Hopeless Hearts

Drabbles

jessicamarcia requested: Jungkook + Idol/Fan AU 
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 17,378
Author’s Note: Tbh I had some apprehension about this request because an idea I stumbled upon that just kept coming back to me was directly from this fantasy I kept about having about what would happen if I ever meet Jungkook and how and this just feels very personal to me as a result. Regardless, I decided to share because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t decide to contribute my pain to the fandom.

ALSO, sentences in italics are being spoken in Korean.

Summary: You never understood the gravity of your position as an intern working Kcon until you fall for one of your favorite idols, Jeon Jungkook—quite literally too.

.

Sometimes you think you have a lot of mixed feelings when it comes to your job.

On one hand, it’s a pretty incredible opportunity, one that you acknowledge not a lot of people get to experience first hand: which is working as an intern in the event operations department for Kcon—the annual Korean convention in which big Kpop groups will travel around the world to bring their music and their joy to the international fanbase. For someone who never actually had the means and the ability to make the trip as an audience member of your own accord, it’s fascinating to witness the back-the-scenes sight of how much effort and how much time goes into planning and organizing an event of this scale.

And because Kcon it in of itself is half a convention and half a concert, there were always many people needed to cover the different subsections of the event, which is where your role as an intern came into play. Given that there were two interns in the department of organizing the physicality of the event, you were put on the team mainly in charge of organizing the convention while the other intern assisted with scheduling of the talents and making sure the performances would go by smoothly.

But on the other end of that spectrum, working with vendors really allows you to see how many people handle responsibility and deadlines and it makes you want to pull the hair out of your roots. You like to think of yourself as a fairly reasonable person, giving a vendor 24 hours to respond to emails at the latest before having to resort to more emails and phone call—but this is absolutely ridiculous.

Keep reading

Centuries in the Making: Part 1

AN: *Loud squeaking noise” This is my first attempt at an Original reader insert, and quite possibly the start of another soulmark universe. Cause, I never do anything half way. Still I’m pretty excited, and happy that this is my first attempt at branching out. Please enjoy, and don’t forget to let me know what you think! 

This is a soulmark AU, so be prepared. This is taking place at the middle of season 2, with a slightly delayed timeline. 



   “You know, eight months ago I would have freaked at coming home and finding two shelves in my refrigerator filled with blood.”

Rebekah grinned at you, “Yes, well, you’ve come a long way. I’m very proud.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the woman, before pulling out a bottle of water and closing the door. “Where’s Hope?”

“Fast asleep like the angel she is.”

This time you can’t resist the urge, you roll your eyes, “Says the woman who refuses to deal with the crying fits.”

You watch her pout, “I’m a vampire. Sensitive hearing and all that. Plus you’re very good with her.”

You stare her down, “You’re spoiled.”

She shrugs, “Guilty as charged.” You say nothing else, choosing to return to your room instead. You have lesson plans to complete, and little time for games. Especially supernatural games. Unfortunately, the supernatural seemed out to get you.

Eight months ago you had been oblivious to the secret world around you. You’d been able to move through the streets without looking for signs of vampires or witches. In fact, the only thing you had been looking for was a roommate. Enter Rebekah Mikaelson.

She had strolled up to your door like she already owned the place, a small infant in her arms. You had gone through the motions of showing her around the apartment, and were ready to show her out after the fourth snarky comment, when she had looked you in the eyes and simply said, I’m staying. That had been the first time you’d been compelled.

The second time came seconds later when she told you to offer your neck, and stay quiet. The fangs had hurt, enough that you had wanted to cry out, but you had found yourself unable to say anything. Her story had come out over the next several weeks. Original vampires. Witches. Evil parents. New Orleans. It had been a lot to absorb. You’d simply been grateful that she hadn’t sunk her teeth into you again.

Still, more often than not you found Rebekah to be more of a pain than a villain. She was lonely and unsure of herself. Conscious of the eyes on her. She reminded you of a middle schooler in that way. Still trying to find out who she was. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was her love for that baby.

The child rarely left her sight, and the only true times you dealt with the crying fits were when she was off feeding, or the supply in the fridge was running low. Other than that you had little interaction with Hope. And you were okay with that.

You spend two more hours completing lesson plans before deciding to call it a night. You retreat to the shower, moving quietly past Rebekah and Hope’s room, before stripping. The water is scalding hot, something you prefer in cooler months. You take your time enjoying the spray before ending the bliss.

You towel dry your hair, and like always, that catches your eye. It’s elegant. Refined. A type of handwriting you don’t see anymore. I’ve waited centuries to hear those words. You tug the towel up so that you can’t see it anymore. There were too many questions there. Too much unknown, and you had more than enough of that at the moment.

You don’t bother with the hair dryer. Instead, you pull on a hoodie and your favorite pajama pants. That’s when you hear it. Glass breaking, things being knocked over, people yelling.

You stumble into the living room to find Rebekah dripping in blood, bodies on the surrounding floor. The veins around her eyes are dark, and second later she’s in front of you. You watch her pupils expand, and the familiar weight of compulsion settles around you, “Take Hope and drive to New Orleans. Stop for nothing. You are to go to a restaurant called Russeus. Ask for Cami. Tell her I sent you.”

As her orders settle on you, more men come through the window. With a growl, she turns to face them, and you run to the baby. She’s awake. Quiet, but awake. You cradle her to you gently, before grabbing the diaper bag and making your way to the car. You run down three flights of stairs before making it to the car.

You strap the baby into her car seat, climb into the driver’s seat and turn the key. The engine comes to life, and you pull out of the garage moments later. It’s an eight hour drive, and by the time you enter New Orleans, you feel as though you’re dying.

By the time you park, you’re painfully aware that you’re dressed only in pajama pants and a sweatshirt. You’re simply grateful you’d had time to slip on a pair of flats before leaving the apartment. The walk to Rousseau’s is short and filled with people. The streets are packed, and the lights are lit, and one glance at Hope shows that that baby is mesmerized by it all.

The restaurant is filled with the smells of cajun food, and makes the fact that you haven’t eaten in nine hours more apparent. You settle the baby carrier onto the bar, and wait to be noticed. The bartender smiles at you, and then peers to look at the baby. Her name tag catches your eyes, and a wave of relief settles over you. Your voice is a bit hesitant, as you ask, “Are you Cami?”

The woman’s smile is easy, “That’s me, how can I help you?”

You take a shaky breath, “My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, Rebekah Mikaelson sent me. She said you could contact the necessary people to help Hope.”

Her eyes go wide, “You know Rebekah?”

“Roommate of eight months. You?”

“Her brother’s psychiatrist.”

You just feel tired, “A vamp with a shrink… that’s…”

She nods, “Trust me, I know. Compulsion?”

You nod, and she scowls before throwing a rag on the bar. “Wait here.” You watch her disappear into the back before re-appearing. She motions towards the door with her head and you follow her. You stick close as she weaves through the people on the streets.

When she goes through a large gate, you follow. She stops in the middle before yelling, “Klaus get out here, right now.”

It’s similar to a magic trick, the way he appears. Or maybe a predator looking for a snack. He stares at you with interest, and you hug the baby carrier closer. His eyes immediately go to it. The snarl of rage comes a moment later, and then you find yourself flying. You hit the far wall, and pain explodes over your body. “Klaus don’t.”

You look up to see him standing over you, the baby carrier safely in Cami’s arms. You whimper when he picks you up using your neck. His hand tightens, and your ears start to ring. From the corner of your eye you see Cami say something. Then, suddenly, his hand is gone, and you suck in as much air as possible.

You collapse against the floor, the palms of your hand scraping against the tile. You look at the newcomer. He’s dressed in a three piece suit that has to cost more than your car. You watch as he studies you for a moment, before crouching down to eye level.

“And why, dear brother have you stopped me from killing this intruder?” You glare at your attacker, before drawing whatever strength you have left, “Rebekah sent me. She gave me Hope, and told me to come here..”

You watch as they both stiffen, and the more brutish one takes a step forward, “What did she just say?” You don’t say anything, and he takes a step forward, and you shrink back. “What did you just say?”

You stutter the words out, “Rebekah sent me. She gave me Hope, and told me to come here.”  

A second later, you feel a finger brush against your cheek, as the man crouching in front of you brushes hair away from your face. His voice is a whisper, as he says “I’ve waited centuries to hear those words.”

anonymous asked:

Can we have a smutty/fluffy blurb? lazy weekend in la after having a few shows? pleaseeeeee i love your writing :D xo

yes susie lets talk about harry’s lips and maybe you can give us some smutty blurbs about those hot plumped lips leaving u a love bite ;)

It was kind of nice to be alone with Harry after the last six weeks of promotion for his first solo CD.  It seemed like any spare moment the two of you had just to give each other a little attention was quickly interrupted by Jeff or someone who needed him for something.  Harry had prepared you for how crazy this was all going to be once the record started being heavily promoted so you weren’t exactly shocked but it was still slightly disconcerting to see how hard he had to work for all of this.

Harry was fit.  He took care of himself.  He ate right, worked out, did cardio and slept well but this schedule seemed to even zap him of the endless amount of energy he always seemed to have.  Most nights when you would return to the hotel, he would barely make it to his bed and your lap before he was passed out and lightly snoring.

But Harry promised you that once the show at The Troubadour ended tonight, he was all yours.  You couldn’t wait just to spend a few moments loving on him.  He looked so drained and tired but also so happy and excited.  It made your heart swell to see him so excited in his enjoyment with the fans he loved so much.

You held a towel out to him, wrapping him up in it good and tight when he came off stage as your lips lightly brushed across his,

“Good show.”

Keep reading

Canadian Boys l Shawn Mendes Imagine.

prompt: Shawn & (y/n) managed to go from ‘dream couple’ to a messy relationship in front of the cameras, and Shawn doesn’t seem to accept that his ex has decided to move on with the one and only, Justin Bieber.

Originally posted by ladycucciola

Shawn could feel his cheeks heating up as Ellen started a game of Who’d You Rather.

“Rihanna or Sophia Bush?” Ellen asked and pictures of both women appeared on the screen behind him.

“Sophia Bush, no doubt.” he said confidently.

“Hmm, looks like you had your mind already done,” she teased him. “Okay, Sophia Bush or Kendall Jenner?”

“Sophia Bush.” he answered with a hint of laughter on his voice.

“Wow, you’re very sure of yourself.” Ellen said and he shrugged. “Sophia Bush or Margot Robbie?”

“Oh, no! You can’t do that!” he said making the audience laugh. “Ugh, Margot Robbie.” he answered and the audience ooh-ed.

“Margot Robbie or Camila Cabello?” Ellen asked and Shawn shook his head.

“Camila is a friend, so…” he started but the host interrupted him.

“She sure is,” Ellen said, earning laughs from the audience. “So, Camila or…”

“You didn’t let me finish!” Shawn complained laughing.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s my show,” Ellen joked. “Camila Cabello or (y/n) (y/l/n)?”

Shawn felt his cheeks heating up profusely. “They both are very good friends…”

“Oh, is there something you aren’t telling me, Shawn?” Ellen asked.

“No! Of course no.”

“Then answer the question.” Ellen said smiling and looking to the screen where there was Camila and you.

Shawn bit the inside of his cheek. “(y/n), she’s amazing.” he answered and everyone seemed happy with his answer.

“Then I guess we have a winner!” Ellen announced as another picture of you filled the large screen. “Shawn Mendes everybody!”


Keep reading

Let That Liquor Ride

Originally posted by groovyroom

Let That Liquor Ride
[DPRLive at a bar]

yeah wait hold up
let that liquor ride
baby love the way you chillin

Christian sighed rolling his eyes as Dabin stared at you from across the floor. You were waiting by the bar with your friends after Live’s set finished. You’d been nursing the same drink all night, occasionally you’d catch Dabin staring at you and you couldn’t help but to smile and look away shyly.

Christian had fallen victim to your little game of cat and mouse and had grown tired of it. “Please ask her out already. Mate you’re drivin’ me insane over this”

“I will…” Dabin mumbled downing back the rest of his liquor. “I will…I’ll ask her out…” he stood up, squaring his shoulders before immediately losing his nerves and sitting back down. “After one more drink” he reached out as the waitress walked by and grabbed another glass of alcohol.

“You’re pathetic. Come on. What are you waiting for? She’s been to every single one of your shows this month. You know she’s into you.”

“It’s not that simple Hyung… She's…”

“Pretty hot and out of your league?”

“Yeah…” he frowned losing what little nerve he had.

“Invite her and her friend up here. Maybe she’ll ask you out.”

“I can’t just ask her up here. What does that look like? Hey, do you wanna come to the VIP area with me? That just makes it look like I’m trying to make a move on her.”

“You are trying to make a move!” Christian groaned raking his hand through his hair. “You are literally trying to ask her out. And if I have to sit here and watch you ogle her for another night I’m gonna ask her out myself. And trust me Mate, it won’t be for your benefit”

Keep reading

Mockery (Negan x Lana)

Summary: Lana is the queen of sass. Negan may have just met his match. 

Characters: Negan x Alana

Word Count: 3,560

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Fluff and Swearing

Author’s Note: This fic was requested by @i-dont-have-a-harp who sent:

Would you be able to do a fic with a girl called Alana (Lana as a nickname) where she’s super sassy and is taken during the lineup from Alexandria? Negan takes a liking to her but she refuses to fall for him, until he begins showing a softer side when it’s just the two of them, but Lana is too stubborn to admit it until something puts her and Negan in danger? 

I had too much fun writing this. Love me a sassy character. This one is jam-packed with sass, fluff and smut. I hope it’s to your liking. 

Thank you thank you thank you to @ashzombie13 for being my beta reader!

Please let me know what you think! You can message me anytime! I LOVE feedback! (Seriously! Send me asks and you’ll make my whole week)

Originally posted by smuttwd

Keep reading

What Hurts The Most Pt. 2

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Word Count: 2592

Warnings: NSFW! 18+. Graphic smut, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up!), swearing, some angst and some fluff.

A/N: Thank you for the great feedback and love I have received! I appreciate it more than you know! This is an emotional roller coaster my friends… 

Read the first part here to get caught up!


One month later…


You were drunk.

Looking down at the whiskey in your glass, you tried to remember what number you were on. Raising the glass to your lips, you downed what was left with ease and motioned to the bartender for another. He smiled at you as he refilled the tumbler with the amber colored liquid. Taking your drink between your hands, you turned on the barstool to look at the party going on behind you. Tony’s parties were always this way. Lavish, cheerful, and full of people with money in their pockets. There was good music and people dancing. The merriment of the evening was in celebration of some new software Tony had created. Again.

You really should have been in a better mood than what you were. You had put on your favorite dress, took time on your hair, and put on make-up. You chose the heels that made your legs look a mile long and your ass look fantastic. But here you were, sitting at the bar, scowling at the happy people around you.

There he was. You knew Steve would make him come. It really wasn’t his scene either, but if Steve asked you to do something, you normally did it. Bucky was sitting on a couch on the other side of the room, sitting next to Wanda. Was her hand on his arm? Did he just laugh at something she said? You raised your glass again, letting the whiskey burn a path to your stomach. You swiveled your bar stool back around before you threw up.

“Ya know, Jack is everyone’s friend in the beginning, but has been known to make enemies quick,” Sam said pointing at your drink before sitting down on the stool beside you. You glanced at him as he ordered two waters and leaned his elbows on the bar. He looked over at you, “How many of those have you had?” You shrugged as an answer, taking another sip.

“I believe that is her fifth,” Vision stated while settling himself on your other side. Shooting a glare at Vis, you looked back over to see Sam frown at you. You rolled your eyes and hopped off your stool. You finished your drink and slammed the glass onto the bar.

“Goodnight gentlemen,” you said over your shoulder as you walked away.

You punched the button for the elevator and chanced a glance in Bucky’s direction again. Steve had joined their conversation, all of them with smiles on their faces. You turned back to the elevator. You blamed the feeling in your stomach on the alcohol. The tears in your eyes, you blamed on yourself.


You were woken up by the bed dipping next to you. You rolled over and slowly opened your eyes. Bucky was sitting on the other side of the bed. You couldn’t have been more shocked and he must have seen it on your face, because he was frowning at you.

“H-how did you get in here?” you croaked out. You sat up and pulled the blanket around you.

“You never changed your keycode on the door.” He said while fidgeting with the corner of the blanket.

“Ok, why are you here?” It came out harsher than what you had intended but you weren’t a morning person.

He didn’t answer right away. He turned his head and looked around your room. You knew what he saw. Your clothes were in laundry baskets and you had books and papers strewn around various surfaces. He bent down and picked up a drawing that was at his feet. He studied it a second before turning back to you and pointing at the paper, “Is this a memory or in the future?” You looked away from his face and looked at the drawing. It was a sketch of Bucky looking out a window, his hair falling over his brow and he had a small smile on his face. It was in the future. In your sketchbook, the drawing was continued on the next page and it’s of you outside playing with yours and Bucky’s young son. Apparently, your visions can be wrong.

It hurt.

“I don’t know, I just saw it and had to draw it.” You said before getting up and going in the bathroom. You closed the door and turned to the sink. Running the cold water, you grabbed a handful and splashed your face. You turned the water off and leaned against the sink. You let your tears mix with the water dripping off your face. You gripped the edges of the counter as racking sobs took hold of your body. Hanging your head, you cried. You cried so hard that you didn’t hear the bathroom door open or Bucky’s boots scrape across the floor to take you in his arms. When you connected with his solid chest, you cried even harder. His strong arms hugged you tight and he was murmuring soft words into your hair. You gripped his t-shirt in your hands and held on. You let out all the heartache, the anguish.

Finally calming down, you pushed away from him to look up at his face, “Why are you here?”

He wiped the tears off your face with his thumbs, “I’m worried about you.” He tucked your hair behind your ears. “Steve said that you are skipping gym sessions and Wanda mentioned that you haven’t been meeting with her to strengthen your abilities. I saw the video of the mission you went on with Sam. That could have ended up a lot worse than it did. And the drinking…”

You cut him off by pushing yourself farther away from him. You pulled yourself together and faced him fully. “You don’t get to have a say what goes on in my life anymore Bucky.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at you, “I have only ever wanted you to be the best that you can be.” He said, getting angry. “But you see it as me wanting to keep you under my thumb. Or what is it that you said? That I will never see you as part of the team? Well, when you get your head out of your ass and start being a part of the fucking team, I will see you that way. Quit thinking that you can do it all on your own and rely on other people.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to lean on, you fucking know that,” you said shoving him away from the door so you could get away from him.

He followed you back into your room. The way he said, “You had me,” stopped you in your tracks. You turned around to look at him. He looked sad as he dropped his arms to his sides in defeat. “You have me. You will always have me. I love you.”

Your feet moved before your brain registered what you were doing. You practically launched yourself at him, fusing your lips to his. You placed both hands on each side of his face as his arms went around your back. The kiss was slow, letting the hunger build. His tongue tangled with yours before his teeth sank into your bottom lip. A soft moan left your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He took his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his. Bucky’s metal hand started lifting your shirt to strip it off, leaving you only in your panties. He crashed his lips on yours again while his hands smoothed over your naked back.

You moved your arms down to strip him of his shirt. Leaning forward, you placed soft kisses across his collar bones. You traced the muscles on his stomach with your fingers and dipped them in his sweatpants at his hips bones. Lowering to your knees in front of him, you tugged his pants down his legs and looked up at his face. He was staring down at you, bottom lip between his teeth. You brought your hands up and wrapped them around his thick cock and gave a slow pump. He closed his eyes and placed his flesh hand behind your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. You swiped your thumb over the sensitive head, smearing the pre-cum that had formed. You leaned up and took him in your mouth, swirling your tongue along the tender underside. His soft groan turned into a moan when he hit the back of your throat. His hand tightened in your hair as you set a torturous pace. His metal hand clenched into a fist at his side when he opened his eyes to watch your lips around his cock. Wetness pooled between your thighs at the intense look on his face.

“Fuck,” he grunted when you gave him a hard suck. He started to move his hips, thrusting himself into your mouth. You loved when he did this, lost in the pleasure you were giving him. All too soon, he pulled your hair and popped your mouth off his cock. “Get on the bed, doll face,” he said, wiping your bottom lip with his thumb.

You crawled your way onto the bed and sprawled out on your back. Bucky placed his knee on the bed and bent to tug your panties down your legs. Tossing them aside, he lifted your leg and placed a soft kiss on your ankle. He trailed open mouthed kisses along your calf, the side of your knee. Spreading your thighs, he licked a path to your pussy. He stopped, hovering over where you wanted his lips the most. You whimpered when he blew warm air across your clit.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, a smirk appearing on his lips.

You knew that Bucky loved this game. He loved hearing you tell him how good he was making you feel or how you wanted him to do something. You tunneled your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails across his scalp, “Fuck me with your tongue baby,” you said breathlessly.

With a growl, Bucky licked straight into your cunt. His tongue entered you repeatedly, sending lightning bolts throughout your body. You cried out when his fingers started to rub circles on your clit, matching his tongues rhythm. You gripped his hair harder, grinding your hips against his face. His metal hand grasped your thigh to hold you in place. His tongue and fingers switched places, burying his fingers deep as his tongue gave your clit quick flicks. He easily found your sweet spot, relentlessly stroking across it with each thrust of his fingers. You moaned long and loud when he sucked your clit between his lips. Your legs began to shake and you tried to close your legs around his head because the pleasure was too much, too sharp. But his metal hand held you still.

“Bucky… p-please baby.” You cried, arching your back. “Please let me cum.”

He looked up at you as his metal hand left your thigh to run his fingers across your nipples. When he rolled one between his fingers, your orgasm hit you hard. You slammed your eyes shut, screaming out your release, legs quaking around Bucky’s shoulders. He removed his fingers but gave your clit soft licks, bringing you down from your high.

You opened your eyes when you felt him climb over you. He lowered himself to his elbows, his face inches above yours, your bodies were skin to skin. You wrapped your legs around his hips, as he kissed you softly. Bucky readjusted his hips to align himself with your entrance, pushing in slowly. Your quick intake of breath made him pull back to look at you.

“Are you ok?” he asked, while stopping his movement.

You smiled up at him and tightened your legs around his hips, pushing his cock fully inside you. Cradling his face in your hands, you brought his lips down to meet yours again. You both sighed into the kiss when he pulled out and pushed back in. He ground his pelvis against yours, the hair at the base of his cock rough against your clit.

“I’m perfect, don’t you dare stop,” you said against his lips.

Bucky groaned, burying his face in your neck as he quickened his pace. You wrapped your arms around his head and whispered naughty things in his ear. His teeth nipped at the tender spot below your ear, causing your walls to clench around him. He moaned low, his thrusts turning more rough, deeper. He reached his metal arm down to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips into his thrusts.

“Doll, please tell me you are with me, because I’m not going to last much longer.” he said, adjusting his knees for better leverage. “You feel so damn good.”

“I’m with you baby… let me feel you cum.” You moaned.

He raised up to watch your face. The smile that was on his lips was your undoing, you gripped his shoulders are you came with a startled cry. Bucky closed his eyes and groaned when your walls contracted around him. He buried himself as deep as he could get and came with a shout, his hot spurts of cum spilling inside you. You smoothed your hands down his sides as you both settled.

Bucky leaned down to give you a quick kiss before rolling over, bringing you with him. You leaned on an elbow and looked down at his content face. Reaching up, you brushed away the hair that had stuck to his face. “I love you too Bucky,” you said softly.

He turned his head to look at you, “I know we always agreed that you would never use your abilities on me, but I want you to right now. I want you to see how I feel instead of me telling you.”

Nodding slowly, you placed your hands on each side of his neck and closed your eyes. Pushing yourself into his mind, you became overwhelmed with emotion.

You… you were what was all over his mind. Past, present and future. You saw the hurt from missing you, you saw the good times and the bad. You saw the future he wanted with you. His first memory of you was the day they rescued you from HYDRA. He was the one that unstrapped you from the table and carried you out of the facility. You saw the moment that he knew he loved you. It was a rainy day spent in, he walked into your shared room and seen you dancing in your underwear, using a hair brush to sing the song. That memory faded into what he wanted his future to be. You were outside playing with a little boy who had your hair color and his daddy’s eyes, while he watched out of the window.

You let go of his neck, returning to yourself. Bucky reached up and wiped the tears away that you didn’t realize had started to fall. You quickly got out of the bed and grabbed the drawing that Bucky had seen earlier and searched for your sketchpad. After retrieving it, you sat back down on the bed next to him and opened it, finding the other half of the drawing. You put them together and turned the book to show him.

He chuckled and traced the page with his finger, getting a little teary eyed himself, “You’ve seen it.”

You dived into his arms, nuzzling your face into his neck. Never letting go.

It didn’t hurt anymore.


Tag List: @badassbaker @sebastianstanisyourboyfriend @crushed-pink-petals @buckybarnesbestbabe

the skies above us

written for @alittledizzy as part of @fandomtrumpshate

length: 14.8k

genre(s): fluff+angst

triggers/warnings: implied panic attack/anxiety, canonical character death mentions

Baz and Simon meet in a community center art class and become fast enemies; much to the chagrin of their matchmaking therapist. Over the next few months tensions escalate, paint is thrown, coffee is had, and the two of them learn that there’s more to life than just doing what’s expected of you

playlist | ao3

a/n: bless @cherryonsimon for being the most patient beta and best friend and for staying up until 5am reading this over!! and a huge thank you to all of my friends who listened to me talk about this fic for ages and who offered their support throughout the entire process 💜 (this fic will crash the mobile app so if you’re on your phone i recommend reading on ao3 ^__^)



Simon

“How’ve you been, Simon?”

I shrug, and Ebb writes something down in her notebook. I crane my neck to see what it is, and she pulls it back. Frowning, I lean back on the couch and cross my arms. It’s not like she’s said something bad, it’s just a habit I’d picked up over the years. Being in and out of therapy since you were a child tends to make you curious about what they’re saying about you, especially if their evaluation could determine whether you get shuffled around yet again.

Not like that would actually happen with Ebb, especially since I aged out of the system a while ago, but it’s still a knee-jerk reaction to seeing someone taking down notes about me. Never mind that I’ve been seeing the same therapist for six months; some habits are hard to break.

Ebb is the best person I know, which is probably a weird thing to say about someone you pay to listen to your problems; but when you don’t have a lot of people in your corner, you learn to appreciate the ones who are.

Her office looks nothing like the small cramped rooms of the therapists I’d been sent to when I was a kid. It’s large and airy, with a red couch covered in pillows and crocheted afghans. The walls are completely covered in pictures of people, of places, of things. The first time I’d visited, I’d asked Ebb about her walls, and she’d just laughed and told me it reminded her of her life.

“What about it?” I’d asked.

“That I’ve lived it,” she’d replied and laughed again.

I love Ebb’s laugh. She laughs like everything matters, and it’s nice to hear. Encouraging. It’s one of the many reasons I keep coming back.

She’s still waiting for my answer, but I don’t feel pressured. That’s another thing I like about Ebb: she gets it. She knows that sometimes words are hard for me and that sometimes you just get sad for no real reason.

Ebb lost her brother when she was young. I know this because she accidentally let it slip during a session one day. I felt like a jerk for not comforting her, only watching as she’d wiped her eyes on the cuff of her jumper, but I know she understood.

Other people’s emotions are hard for me to handle, but I’m getting better at it, I think. I should probably ask Penny, considering she’s basically the only person I talk to regularly, now that Agatha’s broken up with me and moved away to the States. To California. To “find herself”, whatever the hell that means.

“I’ve been…okay,” I finally say, and Ebb nods.

“Just okay?”

“Well–,” I pause, “I did have an incident at work…”

Ebb nods, and I take it as encouragement to continue.

“I got fired again.”

“Uh oh,” she says, but not in a way that makes me feel bad.

“I messed up a customer’s drink and got so anxious as I was trying to fix it that I broke the machine.”

She tuts and writes something in her notebook again. My curiosity is too much this time. “What are you writing?”

“Just a reminder,” she replies, “I’ll tell you at the end of the session.”

That doesn’t completely satisfy my curiosity, but I drop the subject anyway.

We spend the rest of the hour discussing my week–what I’ve done, what I haven’t done, what I should be doing,–until the timer on Ebb’s side table beeps and she uncrosses her legs. Her head is bent, and I want to ask what she was going to say before, but she beats me to it.

“Have you thought about taking up a hobby?” she asks, pen still scratching across the paper as she looks up at me.

That’s not what I was expecting. “I mean…” I trail off, trying to remember the last time I’d done anything that could be considered a “hobby”. I play football with friends sometimes, except…except it’s been years since I’ve actually done anything like that. Christ, has it been that long? “It hasn’t exactly been a priority to me.” I say, avoiding Ebb’s inquiring gaze.

“Well, maybe it should be,” she says in a way that makes me think I don’t have a choice in the matter. Maybe that’s a good thing, because I know if I were on my own I’d never push myself to find something.

“Like what?”

“I was thinking something therapeutic. Like… relaxing. Have you ever taken a painting class before?”

“You mean outside school?”

She nods.

“No.”

“Would you be interested in trying one?”

I shrug. Again.

She sets her pen down and tears a page out of her notebook, folds it, and hands it to me. “Here’s the information about the class. You don’t have to attend, but I think It’d be good for you.”

I take the paper, and look at the class name. “Why painting and drawing?”

“Well, Simon, I could list all of the reasons it’s beneficial to your mental health, but that’s boring and you don’t want to hear it. Long story short: it might make you happy and that’s a damn good reason, in my opinion.”

I nod, because I feel like I’m supposed to agree.

We make my next appointment, and as I’m leaving she says, “I really do think this will be good for you, Simon.” It’s like she can tell that I’m considering tossing the number, and I make a firm decision not to.

I wave goodbye and duck out the door, shoving the paper roughly into my jacket pocket. It feels heavier than it should, and I know it’s because I’m overthinking this. (As usual.) I’ll probably feel better once I have more information, but the thought of me enjoying an art class makes me want to laugh. I’m not artistic in any way, and I really don’t have any interest in spending time looking at stupid bowls of fruit, or drawing naked people, or whatever people do in classes like this.

But I’ll do it. For Ebb. (And because maybe she’s right about this. Maybe it will make me happy.)

(Something has to.)

Keep reading

Unexpected   A Min Yoongi story

Y/N is a single mother living in rural Chicago.  Running late for a business meeting, she bumps into some unexpected tourists.  Time is running out for Y/N to save her failing business, and she gets help from an unlikely source.

Rated M for language

@lumizzy

—-


You were walking down the street, one hand had your cellphone planted firmly to your ear, the other was rummaging in your purse, all while simultaneously holding your coffee in the crook of your elbow.

Your day had not started at all like you had planned. You had woken up late, and it was all downhill from there.

“Fuck” you swore under her breath, not even remembering what you had needed from your purse in the first place.

“Y/N?” the person on the other end questioned.

“Oh, no, Ms. Williams that was not directed towards you.” you said, not even clarifying any further what was happening.

“Honey, for the last time, just call me Clara. I’m going to let you go so you can get to work. Again, today is not a problem at all.” Clara said before hanging up the phone.

You hung up the phone and chucked it into your purse.

You waited at the empty cross walk for traffic to pass through before you crossed the street. You were still getting used to not needing to follow crosswalks lights. The rural Midwest was a far cry from NYC, your hometown.

You were still musing about the differences you were adjusting to when someone slammed into you from the front, consequently spilling hot coffee all down the front of your white dress shirt.

You let out a small cry of pain.

Could this day possibly get any fucking worse you thought to yourself.

You got into your purse and got out wipes, trying to soak up what coffee you could.

From beside you, you could hear the quiet voices of whoever had slammed into you. You didn’t pay them any attention. You were irrationally angry and didn’t want to ruin someone else’s day because of your nasty attitude.

“Um, excuse me, Miss?” you heard from beside you. You halted in your movements, recognizing the voice had a very heavy accent and spoke in semi broken English.

You finished wiping off what you could of your shirt and discarded the damp wipes back into your purse. You took a deep breath and looked up at the source of the voice.

Anything you might have said, instantly died in your throat.

“Are you..okay?” The voice asked after a long moment of silence.

“But…you’re…why…here?” you said, forgetting how to speak in full sentences.

“You hurt?” A different voice asked from the other side.

You turned your head and let out an involuntary squeal of excitement.

“Yoongi!” you said, finally finding your voice.

The owner of the second voice gave you a shy smile, eyes going wide.

“Hello.” he said back, nodding his head towards you.

“Namjoon, Taehyung.”

The only thing registering in your brain was three out of the seven members of your favorite group were standing in front of you looking rather sheepish.

“You must be a fan?” Namjoon asked you.

“Yes!” you said, too loudly.

Taehyung clapped loudly, drawing your attention to him.

“ARMY!” he yelled towards you, making you smile.

“We want to apologize for ruining your shirt. These two were being very impolite and pushing each other around. They, nor I, saw you standing here. We are so very sorry.” Namjoon said, bowing slightly in apology.

It was then that you realized that you had indeed spilled coffee on your white dress shirt. You blushed profusely and buttoned your suit jacket over the ruined shirt.

“It’s alright.” you heard yourself saying, even though clearly it wasn’t. Now you were even more late than you had said you’d be.

“It is not alright. Guys, you need to apologize to…” Namjoon said, inviting you to say your name.

“Y/N.” she replied.

“We apologize Y/N. We were being very rude by hitting into you. We are on a sort of vacation and were enjoying how quiet things are here.” Tae said, extending his hand to you.

“Thank you for the apology, I appreciate it.” you said, surprised you could string together so many words in one sentence while shaking his hand.

“I hate to ask this, since you are on vacation, but could I get an autograph?” you asked, hating to be rude while they were trying to enjoy themselves.

“Yes!” Tae said excitedly.

“That would not be a problem at all.” Namjoon said, taking the pad of paper you had extended to him.

“To you?” He asked, clarifying that it was for you.

“Could you make it out to Lily?” you asked, thinking of how excited she would be to have the autographs.

“That is an usual nickname for Y/N” Namjoon said, writing.

“Oh, it’s not for me. It’s for my daughter.” you said, smiling fondly at the mention of her.

“You have daughter?!” Tae asked, sounding surprised. “You so young!” he continued.

“Taehyung, it is improper to make such statements to a young woman.” Namjoon said, berating his friend.

Taehyung bowed his head, but not before you saw the flash of shame that had passed his face.

You was sure if you hadn’t have controlled it quickly, your face would have held almost the same look of shame as Tae’s. You weren’t ashamed of her daughter, just how her daughter came to be.

“You’re correct, though, I am young. Actually Taehyung, we are the same age, 21.” you said, offering him a kind smile.

Turning to Yoongi, who had been quiet through this whole exchange, you continued speaking.

“She’s almost five and I think she’s your biggest fan! She sings as many of the lyrics as she can understand and mumbles through what Korean she doesn’t. She is constantly trying to emulate your dances, asking me to practice with her for hours a week.”

“She sounds sweet.” Yoongi said, smiling at you.

Never in a million years did you think that you would be standing in front of some of the people you respected most in the world. BTS always gave their all to their fans, and never seemed to complain about it. At least, not to the public. They all seemed to genuinely enjoy their lives and how they were progressing as a group.

Taehyung had just handed the notepad to Yoongi when your phone rang from the depths of your purse.

Realizing where you were, and where you were supposed to be, you hurriedly fished the phone out and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, you’re now half an hour late. This looks really bad for you. If you can’t get here in the next ten minutes, the investors are going to leave.” your lawyer said from the other end.

“Mr. Johnson, I can’t get there in that short of time. Is there anything you can do?” you asked, desperate for the investors not to leave.

“I’m sorry Y/N. Once you find new investors, contact me and we’ll try again.” He said, before hanging up the phone.

Tears sprang to your eyes involuntarily. You had waited for this opportunity for two months. You worked hard on finding investors, making charts, doing projections on growth, everything she needed to get help with you drowning business.

You had not only moved yourself and your daughter here from NYC, but you moved your business here as well. You had inherited it from a family member and didn’t want to lose it now.

You were pulled from your sullen thoughts from a worried looking Yoongi.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“Yes, I am. Thank you.” you replied, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You just needed to pull it together until you got home, and then you could fall apart.

“Thank you so much for signing this for Lily. She’s absolutely going to love it. And hey, maybe we’ll run into each other again before you leave.” You put your hand in your purse and pulled out your wallet.

You pulled out a small stack of business cards and handed a few to each of them.

“Feel free to stop in and see us sometime. Lily and I are always there, especially summer having just started and she’s not in school. Again, it was nice to meet you all.” you said, and quickly spun on your heels to go the other way. You could feel herself falling apart, and you refused to do it in front of anyone.



Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung were all standing on the sidewalk, extremely confused at the turn of events.

“Do you think we caused that?” Tae asked, feeling sorry for bumping into the woman, and possibly offending her as Namjoon had pointed out.

“I don’t know. But we should definitely go see her again while we’re here. I’m curious.” Namjoon said, looking at her business card.

Y/N Y/L/N Owner/Instructor
Heartbeat House Dance Studio
3764 East Street
318-555-9837


—–

Part 2

Dating Gukkie Includes...

Originally posted by nevermindmyg

—he would be SO SHY AT FIRST 😳

—a lot of blushing, nervous stuttering, and voice cracks when you’d try to engage conversation or even stand relatively close at first

—after what seemed like forever (give him about 3 months or so) he’d finally get us to your hugs, lingering hands, kisses, etc etc 😍😍

—singing you to sleep and playing with your hair as you softly cuddle into his chest 

—forehead, crown kisses, hand kisses and back hugs are his favorite things!! 😚

—him trying to be cute ALL THE TIME 

—an example;; “omg you’re hands are so small how cute!!1!!1” then he lifts up your hand for comparison to his and next thing you know he’s softly kissing your fingers and sending you his ever famous bunny smile as he giggles and WOWO IM IN LOVE

—he will not hesitate to spoil the shet outta you like he sees you eye a dress for three seconds and suddenly he’s gone and bought it within two seconds 💰💰

—pulling weird faces from across the room whenever you both make eye contact 😂

—knocking on your door at 2 AM seeing if you wanna go for a walk and when you ask why he’ll get all gushy and defensive and very quietly be like “I just— I missed you, is all…” 😶😶

—constantly messing around with the members together A LOT!!! 😝

—whenever his teasing gets outta hand you have to kindly step in before Jimin actually beats the shit outta him if he gets called short ONE MORE TIME 

—verbal teasing has become a regular thing the both of you do 😇

—wake up next to him and he’s like “wow, you look trashier than usual” and you reply with something just as fucked up like “mhm, really? you should take a look at yourself, hotshot." 

—"well, damn princess ;;;)))”

—"what? Like what you see? ;;;))))“

—”…actually no— if you would have let me finish my sentence, then you would have known that you look like absolute trash

—"oh, that’s great! I was trying to look like you today anyways :)))”

—your texting consist of the dankest of dank memes ✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️

—taking ugly surprise pictures of each other and only using it for blackmail purposes muahahahahah 😈

—vvv competitive with eachother1!! 

—everything he does you’ll always try to out beat him at it and vice versa for him; video games, singing, dancing, working out,, sex 😛💦 ANYTHING

—because of this little competitions break out and there is always a “consequence” for the loser

—literally, just two little trouble making kids just dating and making, even more, trouble together 😈😇

—constantly reassuring him that “yes, I still love you, kookie & no I will never stop loving you, kookie” cause he would be so insecure about every little thing that he does

—randomly showering him in compliments which result in him blushing and giggling and being super shy and his cute bunny smile shet ahh cutie!!

—YALL ARE BOTH HUGE NERDS OMFG

—talking about anime series, favorite comic heroes/series, movies/books that you two can both just fangirl about 🔥🔥

—dates where everything is just chill where you two can talk and have fun and enjoy each other more and just YEEES ☺️☺️☺️

—walks on the beach, star gazing, movie dates, coffee shop, picnics, road trips, dinner dates, breakfast dates, juuust really chiiiill dates m8 🔥☺️

—knowing whenever your in a mood just by the look of your face

—same thing implies with you to him

—and then the two of you doing everything you can to make the other smile or happy or tell them what’s wrong so they can  try and fix it woooooow what a caring bf 😍😍

—JEALOUS BEYOND THE MAX 😳

—he will fck shit up if some potential threat so much as fuckin looks at you at a club/party/event 😤🙅

—AND you can’t argue about it cause he’s literal perfection so you’re exactly like him whenever you two go out

—you will not hesitate to hastily pull him into a kiss just to spite other women that think they can have a slice of your bby boy nOooOpes!!! HE’S YOURS!

—usually, ends up having mind blowing jealousy sex in like the laundry room or something but shhh it’s lowkey 👀👅💦

—accident giggles between make out session cause he’s rlly rlly ticklish 😝

—lingering touches on your lower back, waist, and hips whenever you go out cause he wants everyone to know your his, but doesn’t want to smother either in their faces

—lowkey PDA (holding hands and pinky locking) at first, but once he gets comfortable he’ll sometimes full on make out with you BUT only with certain people like his members!!!

—HONESTLY, I FEEL LIKE THIS SHET WOULD BE LIKE A DOM BUT A FUCKIN SUB TOO???? idddkkk 😫😫

—he’d be so willing to fuck you hard, but at the same time if you want to pleasure him then he’d happily play the sub role

EXTREMELY kinky (you blame namjoon for it tbh)

—THIS BITCH WILL TRY ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING SIMPLY CAUSE HE SAW IT ONLINE OR HEARD ABOUT HIS HYUNG DOING IT

—Thigh riding cause LOOK AT THEM 🔥🔥👀

—hand jobs <<<< blowjobs ✊💦👄

—rough sex >>>>> love making

—ALWAYS BRINGS A CONDOM WHEREVER HE GOES CAUSE HE DOESN’T AANT TO BE A BBYDADDY OR AT LEAST NOT RN THAT IS

—showering you with compliments as he slams himself into you deeper and harder every time 😝

—always calls you baby girl or bby but ONLY during steamy sexy time 😛

—other times when he’s being cute or needy he uses sweet stuff like honey, princess and/or darling ☺️☺️

—catching him staring at your breathtaking beauty all the time

—"what are you looking at, kookie?“

—"oh–oh… um, nothing… sorry…”

—finding little doodles and drawing scattered all over the place with little notes on the side of them like “hagd, princess” “I love you” “ur butt looks better than usual today ;;)” “see you soon, my love”

—such a supportive little bf all the time every time ✊😊

—got a new promotion at work? treats you to fine wine at a 5-star restaurant, special event coming up that deals with you? he’ll cancel everything on that day just to be there with you 

—overall little golden shit maknae would make such a cute and supportive bf that loves and accepts you not matter what and will always, always be there for you!! and ofc you’d do the exact same thing for him any day, anytime! 😚👌💗

Want more Bangtan? here’s my masterlist!

Originally posted by nnochu

College Boy - Part Four

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 1895

Prompt: Harry wants a shot at a normal life so he attends Northeastern University, but it’s harder than he thinks. The friends he made just want fame, and the other hardly look at him. But then he meets her, Y/N, and she wants nothing to do with the a-list celebrity.

Part One Part Two Part Three


Harry: Dinner?

Harry: I stopped by your dorm but you’re not there

Harry: Y/N I’m hungry

Harry: I’ll get college pizza without you

Harry: *insert broken heart emoji* I cant find the actual emoji

Y/N giggles reading the texts. It was now March and they had been a couple for a couple weeks now, Y/N’s favorite weeks. She loved spending her time with Harry (technically before she had spent all her time with Harry) but this time was different. This time she could kiss his cheek, hold his hand, and sometimes just cuddle up next to him when she was so tired.

She loved when Harry came in to work and dropped her off her favorite drink or a small snack, and the officers had taken a like to Harry as well-but who wouldn’t. Y/N was getting busy though, class work picked up for her and Harry managed to not have classes on Friday which drove her insane.

Y/N quickly responds, wish I could but I have to finish my lab x

Keep reading

Hard Eyes: Part 4

Originally posted by minmiin1d

Prompt: Batmom that was former suicide squad?

AN: I sat down to write part 2 to Bat-aunt and this thing came out instead. This was 5 pages long and nearly 3000 words. I put a lot of love into this and I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!

Words: 938

  Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3


    You stare at the board with a scowl. The distaste is obvious, “This dude is crazy.”

    Your eyes flicker to Harley. Despite the cold weather, she’s dressed in a tank top and shorts. She’s sitting on the bar, legs swinging back and forth, while she hums.

    You smile at her, “That means something coming from you.”

    She shrugs, “Who hurts someone they care about?”

    You don’t miss the irony of that statement, and from the look in Ivy’s eyes, she doesn’t either. You choose not to confront her about it. You know how that ends; with Harley in tears and more stubborn than ever.

“He was supposed to be a friend. But I suppose it makes sense. He was the one who operated, who checked the wound over and over.”

Floyd nods, “From what I can tell he probably left fragments in, and has been inserting more poison every time he looks at Bruce. That’s what’s kept him from healing, that and falsifying reports and everything else. No doubt in my mind that after a few more months of this he would have injected enough to kill him. Make it look like a complication.”

“But did he arrange the hit, or did he take advantage of an opportunity?”

“We’re still tracking that.” You turn to face your brother, who gives you a small smile before continuing, “I took a closer look at the accident that killed his father and injured his mother, cops were bribed to overlook a cut breakline. And the at-home incident that killed his mother is more than a little suspicious.”

You let out a deep breath, “What I’m hearing is that we’re certain he has it in him to kill if needed.”

Floyd shugs, “We all do, you know that baby girl. We’re bad guys.”

You scowl, “But even we have our honor. This Rag Tag group. We’re bad guys, but there are rules to our madness.”

Harley smirks, “First rule is you don’t mess with one of our own. Let’s go kill the bastard.”

There’s a chorus of growls, and howling.

“Hold up.” All eyes go to your brother, “There are a few things we have to do first.”

Croc’s voice rumbles out over the crowd, “Like?”

Your brother’s hands go to his hips, it’s a stance you had seen more than once over your life. It meant the lecture was about to begin, “We need to find out motive, and more importantly we need to find a cure for this poison. That’s what’s going to fix Bruce.”

The Riddler’s giggle breaks through the crowd, “I’m sure the Hell Cat already knows the motive. Same motive we would have.”

Your eyes focus on Ed. The man likes to toe the line, but he could be a loyal little thing. To you especially. You’ve saved his life more than once, and even more importantly you’ve broken him out of Arkham more than once. Ed didn’t do well in facilities. At one time he had been rather enamoured with you. Ivy had called him your puppy dog. Unlike the others he had tried to make contact with you a handful of times since you had left the dark side.

After he had cornered you with the boys, he had ended up in the ICU thanks to a freak accident. An accident that had Ivy and Harley’s fingerprints all over it. You hadn’t seen him since.

But looking in his eyes, now you saw it. The knowledge of what your family was, and who they were. The knife was in your hand, and then pressed against his throat a moment later. You leaned in close, and made sure that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his cheek.

You allow your knife to dig in a little, just enough that it draws a bit of blood. Then you lean in and whisper, “My family’s secrets are their own Eddie, and if you expose those secrets, or put them in more danger I won’t kill you, I’ll make you suffer. Suffer so much that you’ll beg for the cancer back, and that you had never found out about those stupid pits.”

You hover over him for a moment longer, before pulling back to stare at him. He’s shaking in the chair, a crazy grin on his face. But underneath it all you can smell his fear. You slide the knife back into it’s pouch on your thigh and turn to face the others. They’re staring at you with grins.

Harley smiles, “MEOW-ouch!”

You groan when Ivy follows up with, “Kitty’s got claws.”

Floyd laughs as he slings an arm over your shoulder, “This cat always gets her prey. Our Hell Cat ladies and gentlemen.”

You roll your eyes and slip out of his grasp, “I need some air.”

And without another word you slip out of the bar. The cold winter air hits you, and you relish it’s sting. You’ve only been back in this life for two days and you’re already starting to feel numb. It had been two days of drinking, calling in favors, and gathering information to find out the truth of Tommy Elliott. An old family friend turned foe, just like so many others.

It was days like these that made you hate humanity. Made you wonder if it was worth it; staying out of this mess. You knew exactly what these people could do, what they did do, and you still loved them. They had been you first real family.

Rick was your brother and you loved him, but you didn’t have much of a relationship with him. The two of you had been born to an alcoholic father, and a drug addicted mother. You still found it hard to believe that you had survived past infancy. You owed that to Rick, he was six years older than you, and had been determined to take care of you, had been determined to make it out of those slums with you in tow.

You hadn’t had that same determination. You’d become bitter early on, had fallen in with the wrong crowd. You’d learned to fight, swipe, pick, and shoot by the time you were fifteen. By that time, Rick had been long gone. The man had enlisted and left everything behind, including you. You didn’t blame him, by that time you looked and acted like your parents’ daughter.

Your only solace had come from gymnastics at the community center. That was where you’d first met Harley. The two of you had become friends, and you followed her to school. You’d always been smart, getting into college, even with a GED, had been easy enough. You quit two years in, bored by the classes.

That’s when you’d found yourself in a crime family, working your way up through the family ‘till you had reached the hierarchy. That’s when you had fallen into lust for the first time. The boss of that weapons ring had been a man in his early thirties. Young for that business.  You’d entranced him, and through some twisted connection the two of you ran that family. And when he was tragically killed on a run, you took over. And you took down anyone who had opposed you.

That’s when you’d met Harley again. Her new look had surprised you, and the company she kept enraged you. While your lost lover hadn’t been the best man, he had treated you well. That was the first time you confronted her about Joker. You’d met Ivy soon after that.

You had dressed yourself in your empire. You wore the best of everything, and lived miles above where you had started. You became known as the Hell Cat of Gotham. You were a myth, almost as much a legend as the Batman. Very few people knew what you looked like, and those who did knew to keep their mouth shut. You’d become known for your hard eyes, and a rumor had started to spread about a glare that would freeze a man in his tracks, and then burn him alive.

You found that funny. No one knew what you looked like, but they could describe a look.

You’d grown bored early on. You kept your business going, and helped your fellow bad guys when needed. No one could pin anything on you, not even the Batman. Teasing him became your new favorite sport. He had been easy to goad, and oh so much fun to fight. You’d leave those fights with bruises and a warmth you have never experienced.

You found that ironic. You’d gone numb early on. It had been your key to survival; lock everyone out, and keep your distance. Befriend those who could take care of themselves. Yet, here was a vigilante; a mad man dressed as bat who fought Gotham’s underworld. Somehow this man, who was probably as crazy as the rest of them, had pierced through the ice.

It took months for you to realize why. He actually cared. He cared about what happened to you, about what happened to all of you. He hated what you did, and he cared about those who got in the process, but you could see it where no one else could. The Batman wore his heart on his sleeve.

When he came to you, looking for information on Tony Zuko and tells you about the little boy who lost his parents, you help. It’s the first time you ever betray one of you own and the start of your downfall. That’s when the ice starts to melt.

It didn’t take long for people to find out, and it took even less time for Amanda Waller to nail you down. She found you while on the run. You were dirty, and bruised. You’d lost your business, your money, and your status. But you were still fighting. The pain had been preferred to emptiness.

You didn’t get a choice, when you were recruited for the Suicide Squad. That’s where you met Floyd. He became your partner. The two of you understood each other on another level. It was almost as though you could read each other's’ minds.

The fact that you had Harley nearby again also helped. She told you exactly what she thought of what you’d done, and then she had shrugged, gave you a hug, and skipped away. All was forgiven.  

Your brother was brought in after a year. He didn’t recognize you at first, but you recognized him. The revelation came a few days in, and Floyd made so many jokes you considered shooting him with his own gun. A tentative truce had been drawn between you.

You met the Bat again two years later. He had a sidekick then. The boy couldn’t have been older than ten, and he smiled so brightly it made your heart sing. You had teamed up with them, separate from the Squad, until the big fight.

The three of you had joined up with the Squad, and it was there that the majority of the ice melted. Your adversary was the Joker and Scarecrow, and anyone in their right mind would have kept Harley far away from the fight. Of course, Waller wasn’t in her right mind.

So when Joker turned the gun on the kid, you just reacted. You had taken the bullet. You felt its impact, and everything else had sort of fallen away. All you remember is strong arms catching you.

You woke up in an unfamiliar place. The bed was soft, the air was clean, and you were alive, so you couldn’t really complain. Then you saw who was sleeping in the chair next to your bed. Sleeping in full armor and cowl couldn’t have been comfortable but there was the Batman. Fast asleep.

It didn’t take long for you to realize where you were. The batcave was famous even among your group. Despite the pain, you had left the bed to wander around. It’s a cool set-up. High tech certainly. And the name on the tech confirms your theory.

His voice had startled you, “You’ve been declared dead. The bomb in your neck has been deactivated and removed. You’re free to start over.”

You turned to face him, and then you saw him. Truly saw him. The cowl was pulled down, and there were bags under his eyes.

“Start over as who?”

He had smiled at you, “Whoever you want to be. Preferably the woman who took a bullet for my kid - not the weapons dealer.”

You had crossed your arms against your chest despite the pain, “He shouldn’t be out there.”

“He’s trained.”

“He’s a kid.”

He stared at you for a minute, “You want a job?” You stared at him, and he continued, “I need a nanny … and someone who’s good with computers. My butler is starting to complain.”

You had to bite your tongue at the word butler, but you didn’t as an old man with tea came into view, “I was not complaining, simply suggesting that bruises to the face are hard to hide. Especially with the charity season coming up.”  

You shrugged, “I’m with Jeeves on that one. Though, I could probably do something with some concealer.”

Bruce scowled as the butler smiled and handed you a cup of tea. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. The job he mentioned is caring for Master Dick. He’s ten years old, quite smart, and a trained acrobat.”

“So he’s a handful?”

Bruce scoffed, “To say the least.”

Over the next three years the rest of the ice managed to thaw. You found yourself surrounded by a family. You found a friend in Bruce, and later on love. Real love, not just convenience. True to Bruce’s word no one ever found out your real identity.

And those who had been such a major part of your life had left you with only a note, “Enjoy.” With exception of Nygma. Now here you were, right back where you started.

“Come here often?”

The voice draws you out of your thoughts, and your fist flies without hesitation. It’s caught in an easy grip, and you stop at the sight of your oldest son. He’s bundled in a coat, but from the redness of his cheeks, you can tell he’s cold.

Your hands go to your hips, “You’re supposed to be at home.”

“You’re supposed to be at a spa.”

There’s a moment of silence before you admit, “Fair enough.”

He stares at you for a minute, “What are you doing Mom?”

“Hopefully curing your father.”

“He wouldn’t want you to do it this way.”

You cross your arms against your chest, “I know why your dad is still hurt, why he isn’t healing, and I’m close to figuring out who orchestrated the whole thing.”

“I don’t want you to slip back into this life. We both know that it’s addictive. The adrenaline pumping, the mystery.”

You sigh, “I’ve been out of this game for nearly thirteen years. I apparently can’t even throw a punch anymore if you were able to catch it.”

A door opening attracts both of your attention, and you stare Floyd in the face. Out of the corner of your eye you watch Dick stiffen. “Everything okay out here Hell Cat?”

You watch Dick mouth the name before saying, “I’m fine Floyd, I just have a nosy kid. Floyd this is my son Richard.”

Floyd’s eyes widen slightly before he offers his hand, “The cop right? Your mom sure is proud of you. Floyd Lawton.”

Dick’s voices deepens a bit as he says, “It’s nice to meet you. I was just getting ready to go.” He turns towards you and says, “Be safe Mom.” He leans in and kisses your cheek, “We can’t lose you Mom.”

“Have a good week, I’ll be home soon.”

He nods, “I’ll have tons of fun, I’m not in charge, remember?”

You smile as you watch him go. Floyd’s hand lands on your shoulder, “It’s not too late, you can go home. We’ll take care of this.”

You shake your head, “No, I need to be a part of this.” Without another word you turn and head back into the bar to find every single person pressed up against the window. The nosy bastards.

Weakness

Summary: You’re an old acquaintance of Barry Allen and The Flash’s enemy, but when you’re together you’re way more than that. You’re struggling with your evilness and Barry wants to help. Will you let him?

Requested by Anonymous: The reader is a metahuman and she meets The Flash and beats him up but he ends up falling in love with them and the reader is really someone he knows.

Requested by Anonymous: The reader is a villain and she and The Flash have history and they flirt with each other and make out whenever they meet.

Pairings: Barry Allen x reader

Warnings: Smut

Word count: 1967

A/N: My hand slipped and I went to a smutty side! It’s the first time I write something like this so is not too good. What do you think? I hope you enjoy it, let me know if you’d like more stories like this :) 

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

Keep reading

Daddy Lexa Smut

as requested by @starkmerlotte

Clarke’s least favorite thing about dating Lexa was how rarely they got the chance to spend time together. Not that Lexa didn’t utterly dote upon her on every available opportunity, of course, but Lexa being the CEO of a large company meant that a lot of her time was dedicated to staying CEO of that large company, particularly because of the antsy board who disapproved of Lexa’s dedication to the workforce because giving the workers good wages apparently meant less profit for them, despite the fact that all of them still made more money than they could possibly spend in a year.

Keep reading

||Revenge Is For Couples||

Joker x Reader


||Warnings||
rape (mention)
blood
death
language
suggestive things

A/N
this is the beginning of Mister J’s reign, before Harley Quinn and everything! enjoy!!! I have a sad ending in mind but i don’t wanna ;-;

Revenge was The Joker’s specialty. He knew every button to push, every bone to snap and every way to break a person down mentally and physically. Your father was an unlucky man. Actually, scratch that, your father was plain stupid. A stupid scientist of J’s that lacked the funds for a personal project and attempted to steal from The Clown Prince.

What.

An.

Idiot!

You weren’t born the same way babies came out of their mothers. Technically, you weren’t born at all. Your father took his deceased brides DNA and his own, creating you in a large tube. However he didn’t have enough of your mother’s so substituted it with a birds. When you were growing in the tube, your father noticed the bumps on your shoulders. He shrugged it off and told himself to check it out in the morning. However overnight, wings sprouted on your back and by morning they were covered in white feathers. Your father began to weep when he saw them. “My, (Mothers Name), we had an angel together..” He cried, “Our angel, (Name).”

You grew and matured until the desired age of 17. You were able to talk, feel, move and function perfectly once you were out of the tube. Your (s/c) skin was incredibly soft and your nails sharp as talons. (E/C) orbs resembled your mothers, as well as your (hair style) and (hair color) locks. You were a “beautiful specimen”, as your father would say.

Although people rarely came into the area, it was the most enjoyable time. Your father would make you wear a large sweater dress to cover your wings- good thing it was constantly cold in the lab. People questioned you maybe once or twice and your father told them the truth, you were his home schooled daughter. His coworkers had grown to love you and treat you with care so your father never seemed nervous about lying! That is.. until the day the green haired man came in. You thought it was funny when he visited. He would do everything he could to make your father tug on his hair in frustration.

“Who might you be?” The green haired man asked, not smiling which made him more terrifying.

“This is-” Your father stood in front of you but was shoved out of the way.

“I didn’t ask you!” J growled at your father but turned to smile at you. This eased your frightened state a bit.

“I-I’m (Name)..” You blushed and looked at the ground. He sure was handsome. He couldn’t be too much older then you, 3 years at most. Why was he so feared when he could be just 20 years old!

Then you figured out why.

Joker, or J, as he asked you to call him, hired a new scientist. Mrs. Nanika and this lady did not like you. At all. J came into the lab more when he knew you would be there, to your delight and your fathers dismay. For some reason, your father became antsy and stressed when Mister J was in the room. You didn’t notice the little things J did but your father saw it all. He would bring you chocolate because your father didn’t let you have any sugar. He would sit close to you as possible without you being uncomfortable- which was very close, you didn’t have much of a bubble. The most noticeable thing J did for you was treat you like a person.
However he wasn’t the only one, everyone could see that. Mister J would never be nice to anyone unless he had a motive but even then he wasn’t genuinely kind. You were special and everyone knew it..

Except for Mrs. Nanika.

J found you crying one day. You were in your usual hiding spot in the break room, in the cabinet beside the fridge. It was comforting to you to be in such a confined place, most people would be claustrophobic. J opened the door and sat on the ground, immediately concerned.

“What’s wrong, little dove?” He asked with a tilted head. Your beloved nickname he gave you couldn’t make you smile.

“The new lady was mean to me.” You whimpered, wiping your tears away. You didn’t see J lips curl up in disgust while you rubbed your red eyes but you saw his usual smile had disappeared when you looked at him again.

“What’d she do?” J asked as calmly as he could but his breathing revealed how pissed he was. Normally he wouldn’t need any more reason except that someone hurt you but this scientist was promising. Not to mention curiosity was a weakness of his.

“She yelled at me for sitting at her desk. I was drawing you something so she took it and ripped it up.” You began to tear up again as you held a out a shaking hand full of pieces of paper. J took them from your hands, angrier than before. He stormed from the break room and into the laboratory. The criminal flipped Mrs. Nanika’s desk, making her jump back in surprise. He dropped the drawing pieces from his hand.

“Sir, I-” Mrs. Nanika was cut off by a gunshot to her head. J growled and ordered two men to take her dead body away. After that, two more men came to clean up the mess and J returned to you.
You were still in the cabinet but slightly out, curiosity plain on your face.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, (Name),” J began, crouching next to you, “You and I are the same. We both are curious but we’re not cats.”
You were familiar with the quote “curiosity killed the cat”. J told it to you, it was one of his favorites. However you were still confused so you stayed quiet to listen.
“I’m not a good person. I thought I was a heartless monster- I kill, steal and threaten people.. but you make me curious, (Name). You make me think I still have a heart because something hurt when I saw you crying.” J continued, “You are a dove- no! - an angel, pure and perfect!”

He was talking so fast, he must have been scared and nervous. Once J finally stopped talking, he looked like he was ready to cry but you knew he wouldn’t. His breathing was shaky and harsh so you took his hands and made him look into your eyes. This made him calm down considerably so.

“J, I know you’re not a good person b-but I don’t want to change you! I met you this way and I want you to keep being.. this.” You held his hands tighter, your smile never faltering and your eyes never looking away from his. J knew when people were lying or trying to deceive him, it was something he was working on and he was quite good at it. However he saw no traces of lies in what you said. His heart began to beat faster as he pushed himself forward to kiss you. You had no idea what was happening but embraced the sweet kiss. J moved his hands to hold your body closer when you pushed him away. He looked slightly offended and mad but more worried that he had overwhelmed you.

“I… I have a secret to tell you too but,” Your eyes darted around the room, “I can’t tell you here…”

“I know a place.” J smiled.

You were now alone. You and J standing away from each other. He looked excited and nervous at the same time. You pulled your sweater over your head and dropped it to the ground. He gasped and jumped back as you fully stretched your wings. J would probably hate you now, thinking you’re a freak. Your eyes began to tear up as you looked at J, expecting rejection.

It never came.

J was behind you touching your shoulder blades, the base of your wings. He stroked them, cautiously touching the feathers and tugging them now and then. He seemed in awe when you folded them as tightly as you could and turned to look at him.

“You really are an angel, aren’t you?” He smiled but his face darkened, “How did this happen?”

“M-My father. He made me in your lab.” You said as you struggled to put on your sweater dress. This increased his anger but you didn’t realize it wasn’t towards you. Your father had betrayed a very dangerous person, The Joker for fucks sake! J was left in a position he’d never been in before.

He didn’t know what to do next.

Revenge was his absolute favorite thing to do! There were so many ways to destroy a scientist- all of them fun and made J laugh. However they would involve the disposal of their research… meaning you. You were the one person in his world that he gave a damn about! Not to mention the only person who didn’t want him to change. You admitted your feelings for this psycho just moments before. J couldn’t get rid of you but he couldn’t let your father go unpunished.
J was seething, his fists clenched. You reached out to touch his hand but he yanked it away and started to run his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner. You held your hands close to your chest and stepped backwards.

“This was a mistake.” You whispered and started to run out of the room. J gasped and pulled himself from his thoughts, leaping and closing the door before you could slip out. He slammed each hand on either side of you, trapping you. Your (e/c) eyes shot open, frightened as you stared at J. He looked confused himself but he didn’t move.

“You like me, (Name). Right?” J nodded and tilted his head. You nodded with him, calming down slightly but your heart beating faster. J stroked your cheek gently with his thumb, “That lab is mine. Everything in it is mine. By making you, your father technically made you for me.”

You smiled innocently, naively following J’s words as he sweetly spoke. The green haired criminal gently moved you away from the door, backing both of you to the middle of the room.

“You don’t have to be mine, (Name). Say the word and you can go.” J walked back to the door and opened it, holding it open dramatically.

You shook your head, “I do want to be yours, J.”

J moaned and ran towards you, letting the door close again. He gently pushed you up against the nearest wall and kissed you passionately. J tried to reel himself in but the taste of your soft lips drove him mad. Your wings fluffed up as J moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, making you give little moans. Then he stopped kissing and bit your shoulder. You yelped at the bite and wiggled but he didn’t let go until he was satisfied. J pulled away and smiled at your panting face. He unbuttoned his shirt and bent down, pointing to his shoulder he said, “Now it’s your turn.”

“H-How do I..?” You blushed which made J laugh.

“Bite down as hard as you can and don’t stop until it’s left a dark mark.” J purred and guided your head towards his neck. You mimicked his actions and kissed his neck a few times, earning another purr from J, before you but down as hard as you could.

“Haha! Is that as hard as you can bite?” J teased which made your face flush red. You bit down harder and received a growl in response. After a few seconds, you let go and looked at the mark you left.

“Why did we do that?” You looked up at J. He smiled and wiped your lips of some saliva, rubbing it on his pants.

“To mark each other. You’re mine and I’m yours.” J said.

“You won’t let anyone else mark you?” You asked, looking up at J. His heart skipped a beat and he nodded. No one else would ever replace you. His angel.

Enough with the lovey-dovey crap.

J had a revenge to execute and he would need you on board.

“Little dove, I need you to help me with something…” J began.

You gulped as you looked into his dark, icy blue eyes.

“…You’re not gonna like it.”


J slammed your father to the ground and watched as he picked himself up again. He told J everything, knowing it was pointless to lie now that he had been caught. However J was determined to ruin the last hours of your fathers life.

“Let’s make this fun!” J said with a sadistic laugh.

“Pick a number… Let’s say an age.” J asked, circling your father like a shark.

“17.” Your father answered, coughing up blood from the beating he was just given.

“17!? I was hoping a little younger but high schoolers play some interesting games, don’t they?” J smirked, glancing at you. You sat on the floor, a few feet away from your father and the criminal. Duct tape covering your mouth and holding your hands behind your back. Two large men stood at on either side of you. Your large (e/c) eyes were red from crying.

“Would You Rather! That’s a good one!” J complimented himself and turned back to your father.

“Would you rather, Dr. (Last Name), kill your little baby girl. Or! Kill yourself.” J growled the last part, still smirking. The pale man forced a gun into your fathers shaking hands. Your father was falling for J’s trick perfectly. However J wasn’t about to let you die, as always, he had a plan.

“Please, Mister J! (Name) won’t survive with out me, she needs her shots!” Your father gave a pathetic attempt to beg to save his own life. You stared in disbelief.

“Then I guess you better choose correctly.” J said, standing behind your father and winking at you. You put on your best poker face but felt giddy inside. You remembered the plan, J had predicted ever move your father would make. Yet.. You didn’t expect him to look up at you and have tears streaming down his face. His (e/c) eyes stared into yours, “I’m so sorry…”

He was choosing you to die.

Asshole.

Your father pulled the trigger and listened to J’s laughter instead of a gunshot. The man was howling, holding his stomach at the scene.

“For a guy of logic, you’re really stupid!” J managed to say, “How did you not see it?”
The green haired criminal began to circle your dad again.
“I saw it.. You’re infatuated with…” Your dad looked at you again as you were released. You had on a normal shirt, wings fully extended and stretched out. You glared at him, not moving from your spot between the goons.

“No, no, no, no, no… Not an infatuation. I love her.” J smiled genuinely at you, “(Name) is an angel and I’m going to treat her like one.”

“You can’t love anyone, you’re insane!” Your father shouted and J back handed him as a response. He sighed and looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours and his demeanor calmed immediately.

“(Name) doesn’t care that I’m insane and I don’t care that she’s not.” J smirked as he pulled out a gun, aiming it at your father.

“Does she need the shots to live?” J asked, his smile gone.

“No..” Your father answered honestly which made you clench your teeth.

You hated those shots.

J asked a few more questions about your life, making sure there wouldn’t be any complications with you.

“One more question, doc.” J chuckled darkly, “Can she get knocked up?”

Dr. (Last Name) clenched his fists, “No. (Name) isn’t a real human, therefore she cannot give birth.”

“Round the clock sex then!” J howled with laughter before shooting your father in the head. You laughed and ran up to J, jumping in his arms so he could spin you around.


That was before he was sent to Arkham for the first time.

Damnit J, why did you have to be so careless? He wanted people to know his name and that lead to his capture. He would be out eventually but the waiting game was never fun. Now you were trapped in a room with a hammock and a large bird swing. Very funny.

Daily routine:
1.) Stretch.
2.) Clean feathers.
3.) Sit on your swing.
4.) Nap while guards are away.
5.) Sing when they come back.
6.) Whistle when they tell you to shut up.
7.) Watch T.V.

And so on.

This was your routine every single day. You were slowly going crazy.
The only enjoyable time you had was when Frost visited you and updated you on J. He brought you one of J’s Arkham shirts (that smelled like him!), a picture of him and, if he had paper, letters! You cherished them all as you waited for your clown’s return. Anxiety made you think J would forget about you, no matter how much Frost tried to convince you otherwise. So the next time the man came with more gifts, you plucked out the whitest feather in your wing and told him to give it to J.

You don’t know if he ever got it.

Suddenly Frost stopped coming and occupying yourself became harder to do. The room was only big enough to stretch your wings but not fly which made them cramp up often. Your feathers were no longer pure white but dusted with brown and yellow. Your feathers also became matted and gross from lack of proper treatment. J would have his veterinarian come and preen your wings every month. You didn’t have the proper tools to do it but even if you did, you couldn’t reach the right places. The most you could do to care for them was stretch and flap them to air out the feathers.
The so called “guards” outside of your room only let you bathe once so far- you felt absolutely disgusting and probably didn’t look any better. With Frost not coming anymore, you could complain to anyone.

The guards knew this too.

They were convinced J was never getting out of Arkham and decided to have a little fun with you. They pushed you off the swing while you were asleep, pulling your wings and some of your feathers out. In a panic, flew to get away from them and hit your head on the ceiling. In result, you knocked yourself out. You woke up naked and bruised, everything hurt. You hugged yourself and cried for the first time since J was captured. You never slept again while the guards were around. You managed to pull the swing’s chains up higher so if they ever came in the room, you were just out of their reach.

Keys jingling made you open your eyes. This signified it was 3pm, when the guards normally came around. You stretched and scratched a tally mark on the wall, another day wasted. However as you stretched very limb and cracked a few bones, you realized something.. peculiar. The clock on the wall suggested it was 12am which was bizarre considering the guards never showed up before 3:00pm after Frost stopped coming. The door was flung open for a moment, a small device was thrown in and gas leaked out as the door was quickly shut once more. You sniffed the air and covered your nose instinctively. Sliding to the ground, you sat there as you began to pass out.
You woke up in a bathtub. A real bathtub, big enough to fit your entire body- wings and all! A smile graced your cracked lips as you splashed and cleaned every inch of your body. You weren’t sure how long you had so you made an effort to be efficient and quick. When you were satisfied with your squeaky clean skin- (s/c), the way it was before that damned room- you drained the water. You turned on the faucet, making the water cold and rinsing yourself one more time. You then sat in the bathtub patiently waiting for someone to retrieve you and take you back to the room. An hour had gone by.

Nothing.

You’d never had this long to bathe before. You wiggled your toes when you realized you weren’t chained up like your “guards” had originally done during bath time. The sound of a door opening made you jump but it wasn’t the door to the huge bathroom you were currently in. A delicate knock came from the other side which made you tilt your head.

“C-Come in?” You managed to find your voice and covered yourself up with your wings as the door opened. 4 asian girls, mid 20’s at least, came into the room. They all wore the same outfit, black strapless dresses, loose with cold trimming. They looked comfortable and had genuine smiles on their faces. You were beyond confused as they greeted you with a curtesy.

“Hello, Lady (Y/N),” One of them said, “Would you please step out of the bathtub?”

“C-Can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked, slowly folding your wings behind your back. This was the most hospitable you’d been treated since J had been taken! You were shocked and scared but felt these ladies were harmless. The girls all giggled as if you’d asked a dumb question. The one that had spoken earlier walked towards you and offered you her hand. The other three dispersed around the room, grabbing items on the counter and such. You took the ladies hand and she helped you to your feet, holding on as you stepped out of the tub.

“My name is Minorin, these are my friends, and we are here to clean you up!” She said kindly. You say on a bench type chair and they promptly got to work. They apologized for the slight pain you might feel but “beauty is sacrifice”. You nervously sat there and tried not to fidget as they smeared warm wax on your legs, ripping it off until your legs were smooth. They repeated this all over your body, making sure there was no hair they didn’t want to see. They filed your finger and toe nails down nicely and painted them black afterwards. Then lied you on your stomach and rubbed lotion everywhere, giving you the best massage you’d ever had. They didn’t touch your breasts or bum but made you put lotion there as well. You marveled at how smooth your body was now. They revealed you to a mirror and smiled at their work. You were shocked! You looked exactly the same as you did before J was taken. You hadn’t changed at all. The depressing fact that you weren’t human settled in and replaced that shock feeling you had. They dipped their heads as you thanked them all, walking out of the room and closing the door. You were left in a towel, staring at your reflection once more. Your feathers still looked matted and mangled.
As if someone read your mind, your old veterinarian lady came in with a smile on her face. You began to cry as you hugged her, the first familiar face you’d seen in 3 months! The ladies caught you up to speed on the outside world but nothing else. They wouldn’t tell you about J and neither would the veterinarian in front of you. She brushed your hair the way she used to, calming you down. Once you were relaxed she extended your right wing and began to work, plucking and stoking the pearly white feathers. She repeated this on the left wing and after made you extend both wings. The lady perfected them and made sure you were healthy.

“Can you tell me anything? Where I am at least?” You asked, eyes filling with tears.

“(Name), don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’ve brought you some clothes.” The lady said calmly, turning to get you the clothes. It was a dress- your favorite one but new! It was black and faded to green at the flowey bottom. It had long sleeves that covered your hands, like that sweater dress you’d been accustomed to. The back of the dress was open, as a lot of your clothes were for obvious reasons. You happily twirled around in the dress, looking at yourself in the mirror for the 4th time. A knock at the door pulled you away from the mirror, your face hardened when you saw your “faithful guards”.

“Ready to go?” One asked.

“Where?” You demanded, feeling your confidence returning.

“To him.” The other one said simply. Your heart leapt and a smile graced your lips, you nodded and followed them out of the bathroom. It lead to a big bedroom but not yours, not the one you and J shared. You followed them into the hallway, listening to them as they spoke to you but not replying.

“You’ll tell him we treated you good, right?”

“Real good.” The other one laughed with an implying tone.

You suddenly felt sick.

These idiots acted as if you wouldn’t tell J everything. Or maybe they thought he wouldn’t care. Your stomach flipped at the thought. You didn’t have time to worry, the door opened and they lead you to the business room. You now remembered where you were. You pushed the goons aside, running into the room and looking around but you found nothing. You saw his black shoes poking out of the curtain and darted over, pulling the drapes back.

Not here either.

You smiled at the trick he had played and picked up his shoes with one hand. Your smile faded as you looked around the empty room. The door closed and you sighed, looking down. Alone in a room again. Suddenly hands gripped your waist and pulled you back. You dropped the shoes and squealed in delight, turning around and hugging him. J. Your J was back in your arms. You kissed his neck as he held you in a tight embrace. You both whispered how much you missed eachother, questions and “i love you’s”. J lifted you up and walked over to the couch, plopping himself down. He lied on his back and looked up at you as you straddled him. J was really here! He looked exactly the same but had a “J” and a star on his face now. You touched them gently, tracing your fingers along his face and through his hair, holding his hands tight after. He smiled but you knew he was confused.

“Making sure it’s you..” You said quietly.

“It’s me, angel.” J replied. Your eyes widened as you forced his mouth open. There was silver in his mouth! Where his gorgeous, white teeth used to be!

“What-!” You gasped as J pulled your hands from his mouth. He laughed and licked his grill.

“Before I was caught, I had a run in with the Bat. He wasn’t too happy about his dead bird.” J smirked proudly.

You smiled and tilted your head, “I can get used to it.”

You and J caught up, he told you everything. He apologized and held you as you began to cry. J did every trick he remembered that calmed you down, holding you as you relaxed.

“Th-The men.” You whispered in his ear, “I want them dead.”

J’s demeanor changed instantly.

He sat up, rage in those icy blue eyes. His fingers gripped your hips tightly but not enough to hurt you. J felt his heart break at the sight of you, tears forming again in your eyes. Your pure (e/c) eyes. J calmly pushed you off him, sitting you on the couch. You panicked slightly and grabbed his arm, “Don’t leave me!”

J pulled his arm free and growled, punching the wall. He pulled a phone from his back pocket, calling Frost. He began to pace around the room, not leaving your sight, fearing something might happen to you if he left. As the tension built inside the room, with J yelling at Frost, you couldn’t help but feel tired. You barely slept in that room, fearing the goons would take advantage of you again. J was back and you felt more relaxed than ever. You didn’t notice that your eyes began to close. J turned to you to check in on your state when he saw you were sleeping. The 3 months away from you suddenly hit him, before that you were at his side every day. He didn’t realize how much he missed you. His mind wondered to your appearance- you’d barely changed. J relived every moment with you up until his capture. Things will be different now, J silently promised you as he caressed your cheek. Since he was taken away, his empire had grown. His reputation had increased as well, he was feared, hated and strangely admired. To his delight, no one outside his work knew of you. The Joker’s weakness, his soft spot, his angel.
Frost opened the door, pulling his boss from his thoughts.

“They’re outside.” He said simply.

“I like you, Frosty…” J spoke sincerely but his words dripped with anger, “Did you know about this?”

The henchman walked closer to J, looking him in the eyes. Before the man even spoke, J had his answer. He didn’t even need Frost to speak but allowed him to anyways. He knew the henchman took care of his belongings. You were probably Frost’s favorite companion

“If I knew, you wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing them.” He growled. J smirked at the comment. If Frost hadn’t already won his trust, he sure had it now. J placed a hand on his henchman’s shoulder. A quick sign of gratitude and forgiveness. Frost made his way over to the door and the two henchmen walked in. They stood tall but shook with fear.

“Gentleman!” J smiled, extending his arms, “(Name) has told me all the work you’ve done for me on my leave of absence.. You shall be rewarded so.”

The two henchmen, smiled proudly and puffed out their chests. Frost would have looked at J with utter confusion if he didn’t know better. Why on earth was he talking like that? His boss snapped his fingers and caught his attention.

“Bring them alcohol- and (Name). Bring my angel something to eat.” J said, turning away. Frost nodded and left the room. The henchmen sat themselves at the conference table, kicking their feet up. J was on the other end of the table, guarding you and stalking his current prey. His icy blue eyes locked on his targets, full of nothing but rage. When J managed to drag his eyes away from the men, he would look at you. You stirred a bit in your sleep from the noise. Your wings, fingers and toes would lightly twitch every now and then. J’s hard gaze softened slightly. You truly were an angel. Even in slumber, you looked so innocent and pure.
Minutes went by slowly until Frost returned. He dropped off the requested drinks and held the doors open for a few maids to bring in a selection of food trays. J smiled in delight at the assortment before him. He never thought he’d be so happy to not see meat on the table. Around you, J wouldn’t eat any type of meat- especially bird. In fact, during his stay at Arkham, a guard was murdered for bringing the man chicken for dinner.
The aroma of food must have woken you up. You stretched with your eyes closed, as you would if you were going to open them and see the dreaded room. You relaxed when you opened your eyes and saw your beloved J standing there. He handed you a crescent and you happily ate it, your stomach growling. You suddenly realized how hungry you really were. J pulled out the chair he was leaning on for you to sit in.
You forced yourself to remain calm while staring at the men before you. They were obviously drunk from the poison in their drinks. You smirked as you popped a grape into your mouth. J licked his lips as he watched you. He knew exactly what you were thinking from that cocky smile spreading on your plump lips.

“Angel?” He mumbled. You looked at J and tossed a grape in the air for him to catch in his mouth.

“What would you like me to do, my love?” J got on his knees in front of your chair. He began pushing up your dress and placing kisses on your smooth (s/c) skin. You were suddenly very grateful for the waxing those ladies did for you earlier. You placed your hands on both sides of J’s face, bringing his head up to kiss him passionately. He growled into the kiss, biting your bottom lip and regaining dominance. J pushed himself up to his feet and pried himself away from your mouth.

“I want,” You panted, “You to take me into our bedroom and make up for every day you were gone.”

J growled with a smirk, nodding his head for you to continue.

“And I want you to promise me every time that you’ll never disappear like that again.” You playfully tapped your chin as if you were thinking.

“Never, angel. Never,” J almost begged for the best part.

“As for them…” You glared at the passed out henchman then lovingly looked back at your J, “I want them locked in that same room for a month. We’ll talk about a real revenge after.”

J didn’t need you to finish.

He swooped you into his arms and ran straight for the bedroom, yelling at Frost on his way out. J was certainly going to show you how much he missed you.

Requested by anonymous: “can you write a Spencer Valentine’s Day one?”

HECK YES! It’s Valentine’s Day and sorry if this is really cheesy but I want to marry Spencer Reid.

Warnings: none maybe??

“Nope. No.” You shake your head.

“Why?” Spencer asks you with an innocent look on his face.

“I hate Valentine’s Day.” You state, folding your arms. “We can go out to dinner or buy each other gifts any other time. Why does there have to be a certain day of the year to do it?”

“While some believe that Valentine’s Day is celebrated in the middle of February to commemorate the anniversary of Valentine’s death or burial–which probably occurred around A.D. 270–others claim that the Christian church may have decided to place St. Valentine’s feast day in the middle of February in an effort to “Christianize” the pagan celebration of Lupercalia. Celebrated at the ides of February, or February 15, Lupercalia was a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus.” He says.

You stare at him in bored and not understanding what he just rambles on about.

“Spencer if you really want to go out to dinner tonight I will. Not because I want to but for you.” You say.

“I really want to.” He says.

You sigh, placing your hand on his cheek before kissing him.

“You do love me don’t you?” He smirks and you roll your eyes.

“Most days.” You joke.

After you finished getting ready you made spencer wear a tie that matched your dress.

You didn’t want to go but if you were being forced to you’re going all out.

In all the four years you and Spencer had been dating he had always had to work on Valentine’s Day which made it easy for you.


You had always thought of Valentine’s Day as such a stupid thing. Like you had to celebrate it or your relationship was doomed to end.

This is the first year you and to worry about it with Spencer.

By the way you two were dressed up it was most likely a fancy place. He took your arm and escorted you into the car, being his usual gentleman self.

When you got to the restaurant you smile.

“Spence!” You gasp.

The place you two met, it was a nice Thai place. You were here celebrating your dad’s birthday and Spencer was here with the team. You kept making eye contact with him the whole night and just before you were about to leave you slipped him your number.

That felt like just yesterday but now the Doctor was your whole world. You two had been through so much together you don’t quite remember life without him.

He made reservations and we were sat at the same table I was sitting with my father just years before.

“Do you hate the idea now?” He asks looking at his menu.

“I hate that you had to wait until Valentine’s Day to do something this sweet.” You bite and he scowls at you.

You blow a kiss back and it makes his crack a smile. You end up even ordering the same thing, you and your boyfriend talk about the first time you saw each other.

Granted you were doing most of the talking he just seemed to watch and listen to you.

“I remember when I gave you my number you looked so confused. I could have never guessed you were a genius.” I tease.

He smiles and looks around. Almost as if he waiting for someone else.

A female waiter walks up, “Excuse me can we get a dessert menu.” Spencer asks and she nods.

Swinging around and as she does a glass of water falls off her tray and nearly on Spencer.

“Oh my.” You say, standing to your feet.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you go get some paper towels from the bathroom.” Spencer says smiling.

Is he finding this funny? You don’t argue though, you walk in the direction of the bathroom. Going in and retrieving multiple paper towels before walking out.

When you got back to the table Spencer was no longer there and the water was almost fully cleaned up.

You look around for Spencer, maybe he went to go get paper towels too.

You hear the screech of a microphone and the whole restaurant goes quiet.

“Hello.” You recognized the voice of your boyfriend. He is staying at the front of the restaurant.

What on earth is he doing?

“Hello I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m here with my- my girlfriend her name is y/n. I know it’s Valentine’s Day so I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.” He stands up on a chair.

You wanted to smack him for drawing so much attention to you. You were naturally just a very shy person and he knew you hated other people’s eyes on you.

That’s when you start recognizing familiar faces. Derek and his wife are sitting at the table just feet away from where Spencer way. JJ and Will at the table next to them.

Okay. Now I’m curious to what’s going on.

“So I met y/n just over four years ago here in this very restaurant. She was with her father and I was with some coworkers. As soon as I saw her walk into the restaurant I was so fascinated by her. She looked like how I imagined this girl would look like in my favorite book. Her eyes were curious and wondering the room and right away I wanted to know her. Which is quite weird actually. My whole life has been haunted by statistics and up until that night all I was thinking about were the people who never get married. More or less the people who spend the rest of their lives alone.” He looks at you.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Had he planned this the whole time? Was what you were expecting to come next actually going to happen?

“Today there is only 51% of adults married. Which is a drop from 72% in 1960. Being 30 years old and still single 5 years ago scared me more than I would admit. Most of my friends were married or in a relationship then there was me. So when I came here that night and met the love of my life I knew almost right away I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” Spencer continues.

I cover my mouth, tears collection in my eyes. I jump when someone touches my shoulder. It is one of the employees, pushing me towards the front of the restaurant until I’m next to Spencer who hops off the chair.

I start to fully cry when he reaches into his pocket. Pulling out a rectangle shaped box and getting down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” He asks.

I’m at a loss for words. All I can do is nod for a couple seconds until my voice finally comes back to me.

“Yes.” I practically scream.

Everyone in the restaurant starts cheering. Spencer smiles like an idiot while slipping the ring on my finger and he stands up to hug me. I hug him tighter than ever.

I knew a long time ago I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Spencer. I want to have his kids and grow old with him.

“I love you Spencer Reid.” I say into his ears as the everyone cheers for our future.

anonymous asked:

Voyager is by far my favorite book so I give no fucks for what comes next. For me they can end the serie after it and would be a bless this fu**** fandom coming to an end! The friendships I made because of it don't depend of this mess. We are far beyond people that are only linked by liking these books, the show and these actors which the only interest in us, it's clear now, is to get fame, new jobs and our money to their charities.

I give way to many fucks about what comes next because A BREATH OF SNOW AND ASHES! How can you say some shit like that?! Gah! You are going to jinx it…. Take it back 🔪

If I have to go on virtual dress up picnics with no food with the trash bag for the next few years, so be it. Worth it!

I must see:

“Kill them all,” he said to Fergus, his voice still calm.

AND…..

She took one huge breath and her body relaxed all at once, going limp and heavy like a dying hare.
He held her, both arms wrapped around her as though to save her from drowning, but felt her sink away all the same. He wished to call out to her not to go, not to leave him alone. She vanished into the depths of sleep, and he yearned after her, wishing her healed, fearing her flight, and bent his head, burying his face in her hair and her scent.
The wind banged the open shutters as it passed, and in the dark outside, one owl hooted and another answered, hiding from the rain.
Then he cried, soundless, muscles strained to aching that he might not shake with it, that she might not wake to know it. He wept to emptiness and ragged breath, the pillow wet beneath his face. Then lay exhausted beyond the thought of tiredness, too far from sleep even to recall what it was like. His only comfort was the small, so fragile weight that lay warm upon his heart, breathing.

AND THIS:

“You must continue, for their sakes—though you would not for your own,” he had whispered, Fergus’s face pressed into his shoulder, the black hair wet with sweat and water, cold against his cheek. “Tu comprends, mon enfant, mon fils? Comprends-tu?”
I felt his throat move as he swallowed.
“See, I kent ye were dying,” he said very softly. “I was sure ye’d be gone when I came back to the house, and I should be alone. I wasna speaking to Fergus then, I think, so much as to myself.”
He raised his head then, and looked at me through a blur of tears and laughter.
“Oh, God, Claire,” he said, “I would have been so angry, if ye’d died and left me!”

AND….

“You gave her … tenderness. I know you did.”
He turned to me, suddenly, and my face was pressed into his coat, the cloth of it damp and rough on my skin, my tears blooming in tiny warm patches that vanished at once into the chill of the fabric.
“Oh, Claire,” he whispered into my hair. I reached up, and could feel wetness on his cheeks. “She said—she wished to keep ye alive for me. And she meant it; she didna mean to take anything for herself.”
I cried then, holding nothing back. For empty years, yearning for the touch of a hand. Hollow years, lying beside a man I had betrayed, for whom I had no tenderness. For the terrors and doubts and griefs of the day. Cried for him and me and for Mary MacNab, who knew what loneliness was—and what love was, as well.

ANNNNND…..


“Knew you’d come,” I whispered into the linen of his shirt. He reeked of fire: smoke and pinesap and scorched cloth, and the bitter tang of turpentine. Reeked of stale sweat and horses, the weariness of a man who has not slept, who has labored all night, the faint yeasty smell of long hunger.
He held me close, ribs and breath and warmth and muscle, then put me away from him a little and looked down into my face. He had been smiling since I saw him. It lit his eyes, and without a word, he pulled the cap off my head and threw it over the rail. He ran his hands through my hair, fluffing it out into abandon, then cupped my head in his hands and kissed me, fingers digging into my scalp. He had a three-day beard, which rasped my skin like sandpaper, and his mouth was home and safety.

This:

“I love you,” he said, so softly that I barely heard him, close as we were.
I lay still for a moment, feeling the stone grow warmer in the palm of my hand. Surely it was imagination that made it seem to throb in time with my heart. Where on earth had he gotten it?
Then I moved—not suddenly, but with deliberation, my body sliding slowly free of his. I rose, feeling light-headed, and crossed the room. Pushed open the window to feel the sharp touch of the autumn wind on my naked bed-warm skin, and drawing back my arm, hurled the tiny object into the night.
Then I came back to bed, saw his hair a dark mass on the pillow, and the shine of his eyes in the moonlight.
“I love you,” I whispered, and slid under the sheet beside him, putting my arms around him, hugging him close, warmer than the stone—so much warmer—and his heart beat with mine.
“I’m none so brave as I was before, ken?” he said very softly. “Not brave enough to live without ye anymore.”
But brave enough to try.
I drew his head down to me, stroking the tumble of his hair, coarse and smooth at once, live beneath my fingers.
“Lay your head, man,” I said softly. “It’s a long time ’til dawn.”

anonymous asked:

I would love to read something where Jamie walks into a bar or cafe and Claire is up on stage singing something. They have never met and he is instantly transfixed by her. He wants to meet her but she has been burned before and he has to work hard to show her he is serious.

The damn phone was ringing again. Shrill in his ears with the sound of what could only be bad news.

But he couldn’t afford an answering machine, and was just about broke. So he reached over the side of the bed, fumbling in the dark for the receiver, spilling a pile of records to the floor.

“Hello?” he croaked, voice raspy with sleep and cigarettes.

“Oh good, you’re awake. What are you up to tonight?”

He rubbed his face with his free hand. “It’s six AM, Ian. What the hell?”

“I’m still out with Murtagh – he said he’s got a lead on a singer looking for a band. You in?”

*That* woke him up. Ian – his best friend and the finest damn drummer on the face of the earth – and Jamie had parted ways with their most recent band two months before. Creative differences, or whatever. They had picked up random session work here and there, but nothing steady since then. And it was damn hard to survive – even in Alphabet City where you crawled over junkies sprawled out on the sidewalk and dodged homeless ‘Nam vets panhandling on every corner just to get to the front door every night – when they both could only bring home a few dollars a week.

“Who’s the singer? Do you know him?”

The long blare of a siren wailed through the receiver.

“Are you on the street, Ian? Do I need to meet you somewhere?”

“No, it’s OK!” he shouted into the mouthpiece. “We can audition tomorrow. But the singer will be performing at Murtagh’s club tonight – 9:30. I promised Jenny I’d go with her to see that new Evita musical in the theater district – she said the orchestra may need a backup backup drummer…”

“OK, OK. I’ll do it. 9:30? Are you even coming back today?” Jamie slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. Frowning at the plastic bag caught in the tree branch right outside his window.

“One more place with Murtagh, then straight to Jenny’s. I’ll say you send your love! And I’ll tell Murtagh we’re in. Gotta go!”

A click – then the dialtone.

Jamie carefully set down the receiver and then reached down for the neck of his guitar. He hoisted it to his knees, idly strumming. Thinking.

9:45 PM found Jamie Fraser half-way through his pack of cigarettes, sliding down the slippery vinyl bench that lined the walls of Murtagh FitzGibbon’s half-cabaret, half-comedy club where a few careers had been launched – and where many bright dreams had faded.

But Murtagh had taken a chance on Jamie and Ian, hooking them up with the MacKenzie brothers the previous year. It was a good gig while it lasted, but Rupert had let the bit of fame they’d garnered (if touring small theaters in Connecticut, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire college towns could be considered “fame”) go to his head. He and his twin brother Angus – singer and bassist, respectively – hadn’t let Jamie contribute any of his own songs to the setlist. They wanted to go bigger, while Jamie and Ian wanted to get smarter.

So here he was, back in Murtagh’s club. At least he wasn’t paying him to find a new gig – not like he could have given him any money, anyway.

If things got really bad, he and Ian could always move in with Jenny – Jamie’s sister, and Ian’s fiancée. She had what their parents considered to be a “respectable” job, working as a bookkeeper at St. Vincent’s Hospital. She could always help him find work there, if push came to shove – and it would be a steady income, to be sure.

But Jamie knew he wasn’t cut out for that kind of work. He was creative – had always doodled drawings or written ditties on the piano and guitar from a young age. Mom and Dad didn’t quite understand it, but they supported it.

And this new singer – this potential ticket to a new chapter in his life – was late.

All Murtagh had said in the fifteen seconds they’d had to chat was that the singer would be on after the one-handed French juggler, of all things. And Claudel had just bowed to finish his act.

Jamie sipped the whisky he’d been nursing all night, tapping the heel of his boots impatiently. Watching the small woman with a riot of curly hair set up a stool behind the microphone at center stage. She had to be new – one of the many helpers who dreamed of the spotlight.

But then to his astonishment, she turned around, smiled confidently at the crowd, and climbed onto the stool.

The houselights dimmed, and the spotlight illuminated her gorgeous, creamy skin. She wore a short black dress, black stockings, and black heels.

And a dazzling smile.

“I’m Claire Beauchamp. And tonight I’ll be singing some of my favorites from Sondheim, Rodgers and Hammerstein, and Cole Porter.”

Show tunes? He had dragged his ass all the way to the Upper East Side for a woman who sang show tunes? What kind of joke was Murtagh playing on him?

Then Claire Beauchamp nodded at Ned Gowan – perched, as he had been for over twenty years, behind the piano at stage left.

And she began to sing.

And Jamie Fraser was mesmerized.

That voice. That *voice.* Beautiful and rich and pure. Expressive – evocative – honest. Joyous and sorrowful and a thousand emotions in between.

It spoke to him. Burrowed deep inside his ribs. Burst forth in a racing heart.

His fingers unconsciously curled to hold the invisible frets and strings of his acoustic guitar – itching to write.

Who was she? Why was she here?

And why did she want a guitarist?

He’d played some jazz music in high school, and could pluck out any tune on the piano – but he knew almost next to nothing about the music with which she was clearly so familiar.

But for that voice – he’d try anything.

Her set was exactly twenty minutes. As soon as she’d bowed to the tepid applause in the room and made her way backstage, Jamie found his feet following her. He’d played this club often enough to know the quickest way to large room where all the acts got ready. He dodged a man wearing an enormous sombrero, followed by a woman in a gorgeous, colorful dress clutching two maracas, and turned the corner to the prep room.

A long mirror hung on one side, and an equally long line of director’s chairs packed with men and women adjusting their hair and makeup huddled to one side. Coats and boots and props piled randomly on the other side of the room – and there she was, alone, winding a long scarf around her neck.

“Excuse me? Miss Beauchamp?”

She looked up, startled, and somehow he stood right in front of her. God, she had to be a foot shorter than him. She wore barely any makeup – so different and refreshing from the typical woman who performed here. And bravely met his eyes. Waiting.

“I’m Jamie Fraser.”

Realization dawned. “The guitar player? Murtagh didn’t let me know you’d be here tonight.”

“I like doing my research. I didn’t last time, and it came back to bite me in the ass.”

She broke his gaze to shrug into her blue peacoat. “Well then. And what did your research find tonight?”

“Why do you want a guitar player?” he blurted. “Ian – my drummer – and I, we don’t do show tunes. Or jazz, or lounge music, or whatever else seems to be in your repertoire.”

“Well that’s good, then.” She buttoned up her coat and shoved her hands in her pockets, chin tilted up a bit. Defiant. “Because I don’t want to do this kind of music anymore.”

Jamie waited, brows raised.

“Well, what *do* you want?”

“I want to be a rock and roll singer. And I want you to help me.”

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it – but thankfully didn’t.

“A rock singer? No offense, but have you ever sang that kind of music before?”

“Are you telling me I can’t do it?” She straightened up a bit, eyes narrowed. “Because I’ve heard that one before. And I’ve ignored every single person who told me I couldn’t. It got me here to New York, it got me here to The Broch tonight. And it got you to come backstage to find me.”

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m not – I’m sorry if you took it that way. Only – you have such a beautiful voice. It’s just surprising, is all. Rock isn’t beautiful – it’s tough. Raw. And it isn’t always sunshine and rainbows.”

“Well, I’m tough,” she countered, voice steely and fierce.” I’ve been through a lot more than you think. And believe me, I know that happy endings only happen in the musicals.”

She looked away for a moment – but not from shyness. Clearly gathering her thoughts.

He wanted to reach out and caress her face – right there, where her cheek met her jaw.

Then clenched his hand into a fist. What the hell was she doing to him?

“But it’s what I want,” she continued. “I’ve sacrificed so much for this. Murtagh says you’re the best guitarist and songwriter he’s found in a long time. And I need a musical partner – like Page to Plant, or Keith to Mick. I need someone I can work with, and rely on, and who can push me to be the singer I’ve always wanted to be.”

She pressed her lips, suddenly shy.

“Are you willing to do that?”

Jamie’s whole world tilted.

“Yes.” His voice was clear, strong, confident. It was the easiest decision he’d ever made.

Then she smiled at him, and he forgot all the other people in the crowded room.

“Good. I’ve got a rehearsal space down on the Bowery – can you be there at ten in the morning?” She pulled a card and pen from her purse and scribbled the address. He must have nodded because the next thing he knew she had wished him goodbye and slid past him – and he cradled the card in the palm of his hand, realizing he had no idea what the hell he was doing.


Stephen Sondheim, “Send In The Clowns”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oI_nLz-rciA

Rodgers & Hammerstein, “You’ll Never Walk Alone”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DBTLN73TXE

Cole Porter, “De Lovely”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txBnEh-SpGg

Favorite Wolf - Smut

Originally posted by teenwolf

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Scott McCall/Reader
Words: 1,873

Request:  anonymous: can you please do another rough scott smut? your last one was so good but i’m insatiable
AN: Sorry this took so long! Enjoy!


Admittedly, you’d had a little bit too much to drink. But, a party is a party and Lydia Martin threw the best ones. Your boyfriend Scott was off god knows where, probably with Stiles, and you’d been left to your own devices. So, you’d been hanging with Liam and Brett. They’d stuck close to you all night, and you had a feeling it was Scott’s doing.

Keep reading

@gifsourcefed made a little post detailing about how she felt about all the hosts and I thought it would be a good way to show my appreciation as well! 

My story is pretty much like every others, I started way back in 2012, right around the time of the fall, and from then on my life was forever changed. SourceFed has always been my home, some place I could leave for a bit and then come back and things were a little different, like the furniture had changed around and maybe we got some new members, but it was still home, it still had the heart and the love that I always remembered.

Lee Newton, the sweetest, funniest, dinosaur loving woman I’ve ever seen. I connected with her Make-A-Wish story and being sick and having surgeries all the time as a kid with my own past being similar, and from then on she felt like a new mom, one complete with hilarious voices and a bright smile.

Joe Bereta, the dad I wish I had, so athletic and fearless, and Joe knew how to tell a story like nobody else, I always wanted to learn how to tell a story like Joe Bereta, even if he did almost die in half of them.

Elliott Morgan, the dry humored, silly guy who had the tendency to go a little dark, Elliott was filled with endless talent and entertainment, there truly was nobody like Elliott Morgan, and never will be. 

Steve Zaragoza, this silly, joyous, funny, fantastic man. I love Stee, even when I disagree with him, because Steve is so magical, so special in the way he exudes happiness. Zabagoobler has always been the kind of guy I wanted to be friends with.

Trisha Hershberger, this small, dramatic, tech loving woman. I love Trisha Hershberger. Trisha reminded me of myself, in drama and wanting to be an actress, and so very tiny and optimistic and loved games and technology. Trisha is the sweetest little lady, and I know she’s going to be a fantastic mother.

Meg Turney, this red haired force of nature. Meg was hot and quick and full of life, so casually cool and fun it almost hurt. Meg seemed so effortless in everything, like that being that amazing was just easy. She made being a nerd girl in a t-shirt be hot.

Ross Everett, although far from a favorite of mine personally, always added a little spice. I actually did come to miss him when brought up the last few days, missing the dynamic he had, and I think that’s how Ross shined: he was good with people, good with bouncing off of them, good at creating a fun energy and a good time. I could only hope to have that much energy as Ross.

And then came our first round of newbies. Admittedly, these are probably my favorite hosts, ones I connected with the most.

William Haynes, the unpredictable, creative, wild Naruto Shippuden loving boy. I had a crush on Will when he first popped up on Anime Club. Will was awkward, but well spoken and characteristic, and funny? Will was so funny. And he changed, right before our own eyes, Will went from this awkward boy, to this amazing, cool, funny man. Will showed me that even in the void, you can always find the light at the of the Tunnel (Vision). Speaking of Anime Club…

Reina Scully, this small, beautiful Asian woman. God do I love Reina Scully. Reina was small, just like me, and loved anime, and was actually pretty disgusting and lewd, in the best of ways, things that I was afraid of showing, but Reina brought me out of my shell. Reina is by far my favorite host, coming into her own from sitting quietly at TableTalks to yelling to my favorite soft chicken boy. Never did I have to think about liking Reina, because she was so likeable right from the moment she popped up. Somebody else that brought me out of my shell?

Sam Bashor, meek and sweet in the beginning, now a still sweet, but amazing man who is so full of ideas and passion that he seems like he’s going to burst. Sam was also somebody I had a crush on, the old Doctor Who outfits were so charming, and the privilege of seeing Sam (and Will) grow from boys my age to these incredibly talented men who are living their dreams and their passions, has always given me hope and something to strive for, that you can change but still be yourself at heart, especially if deep down you’re actually just the Flash.

Matthew Lieberman, this boy! God I love Matt. It was so popular to dislike Matt, but I loved him. I love the crazy stories Matt always brought to the table, and he always knew how to tell them, the details and specifics, and in story reactions almost unbelievable and amazing. And cooking! The man can cook. Amazingly so. I’m so upset we never got to see more of Matt’s skills, and that SourceFeed is never going to happen now. And on top of that, an actor and a writer? Matt is so talented, and I especially loved him on Nuclear Family.

Around late 2014 early 2015 I fell off SF, but not for long. I came back home, just like always, and there were even more new hosts. 

Bree Essrig, this feminist fireball, Bree is everything I wish I could be. Talented, outspoken, funny, beautiful. Bree is the complete package, topped with hair just as fiery as she is. Bree’s skills were brought to the forefront on Nuclear Family, and not getting to see those anymore makes me so sad. God damn do I love Bree Essrig. Know who else I love?

Maude Garrett. Maude. Fucking. Garrett. When Maude Garrett enters a video, enters a single frame, this is Maude’s show now. Maude brings the light to the room, draws all the attention in with that tall blonde Australianness that only she could exude, somehow contained in a Star Wars dress. Maude is so ridiculously funny, you might as well just sit back and let her go at it. The dynamic with Sam is so amazing, so perfect, lightning in a bottle that could never be recreated. I can’t wait for the Smaudecast.

Steven Suptic. This soft chicken boy. This boy grew on me. I watched SPF for Reina, she’d always been my favorite, and now she did games? Full time? Hell fucking yeah I was in. But then this boy came in. This weird white boy with greasy hair who said all the wrong things. I don’t know how long I wouldn’t watch a video that didn’t feature somebody else that involved Suptic. But somewhere along that way, that boy got a haircut, and I’m pretty sure some new glasses, and eventually found his voice and his stride, and GOD do I love Steven Suptic. Suppy is a grower, somebody that’s so bombastic you’re off-put by him. But then you watch more, and you realize that boy that jokes around all the time? Is sentimental, and kinda sweet, even if he still says the wrong things sometimes, but now it’s a little bit endearing, especially if his dick is just, y’know. Out.

I was pretty consistent with keeping up from now until the end, and luckily, I’d already been keeping up with a few of the new hosts.

Ava Gordy, a sweet, funny, short haired lady with legs more bendable than I thought possible. Ava’s been somebody I knew since 2012 as well, I saw a video she did for Taylor’s Swift’s “RED” album reviewing it, and had been watching “HALT, I am Ava.” ever since. Seeing Ava here was a surprise, a good one, Ava’s talents finally having the coolest of platforms I could think of to be shown off. Ava is funny, her timing and storytelling impeccable. Ava Gordy is a masterpiece.

Mike Falzone, this sweet, funny man was also somebody I knew, having been around the YouTube block, knowing of Tonjes and Gunnarolla. Mike was like Steve, hilariously funny, always doing something to get a laugh, and this man is so genuine it seems almost impossible. Mike is so sweet, so good to this world, and so funny on top of it all. The world does not deserve the Calzone, but we get to enjoy him anyways.

Candace Carrizales. Oh Candy. Candace is someone that took the most to grow on me. Her humor is so different from the others, her demeanor so unexpected from this office that’s known to be out of this world loud and exuberant. Not Candy. Candy’s just hear to be here, and have a good time, and to give a laugh. I wish I could’ve appreciated Candace sooner, seeing her grown more comfortable and more into her voice and comedy has been amazing, and I wanted nothing but to see her more, considering she’s made me laugh so much in the last few months than I ever expected.

Yessica Hernandez-Cruz, God damn do I love this lady. Yessica and Will were dynamite, bouncing off each other, feeling like the PBL duo to SFN’s Maude and Sam, it was impossible to not smile seeing these two do magic together. Yessica on her own, is even more magical, proud of who she is and unapologetic, and holy shit can Yessica make me laugh. I’m going to miss Yessica, but I have hope for the PBL trio, considering John’s promises. Speaking of…

John Ross, I love this man. John is somebody I want to hang out with, to teach me all that he knows about food and camera work and everything he’s familiar with. John has such an aura about him, so friendly and positive, John is the calming member of this amazing trio, just wanting to spend time with his friends and have a good time and make amazing content. John Ross is a gift.

Whitney Moore, another gift, was the perfect person for Nerd. Whitney was a slightly familiar face, and she felt just so right to be there. Whitney brought a cool meal edge to the channel, her slightly darker tones of interest so contrasted with her bright and bubbly personality. I always smiled when Whit was on screen, so funny and cool, ready to take on the world. 

Filup Molina, the biggest surprise for me, was just on Nerd one day. Just hanging out. And I’m glad that he did, that hat wearing, funny boy. Filup’s always been slightly out of place for me, in the best way, his references falling on deaf ears because they didn’t make sense to others, jokes that the viewer caught going unnoticed by others, I loved him. Filup was a breath of fresh air for the channel, a sparkling gem that I feel not many noticed.

Aside from the hosts, I wanted to note a few BTS staff:

Rickey Mizuno, handsome, talented Rickey boy, beautiful behind the camera and in front of it. This man exudes charisma, and we didn’t get to see him nearly enough. Dani Rosenberg, the HBIC, funny and badass, Dani was one of my favorites to see. She really made SF what it was, and I want to see her do more awesome shit. Sophia Lorena, that curly haired beauty, dealing with Will’s shit every day was truly a lot for her to deal with, and I think for that alone we should be praising her. Also, have you seen her blog? Sophia’s amazing. Starline Hodge, the beautiful, talented graphic designer, Star’s vlogs and art have never not caused me to smile. Star was always subtle in things, but I always wanted more of her. And Audrey Davy, hearing Reina scream her name in SPF videos was always hilarious, and seeing her in Phil’s vlogs and in the Drunk Co-Workers series confirmed that Audrey is a dime a dozen, hardworking and sweet, Audrey was one of my favorites always.

To all of those in this list, and on staff, thank you for these 5 years. They were wonderful, and funny, and God, I will never forget them or the people that made them. And I will never forget the amazing community that thrived from it. I love every single one of you. 

See you, you hot little daddy’s.