i mean the lighting on her side

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

Harry Hook - Best Friend

Originally posted by adisneylover92things

Requested By: Anon and @starwarsphantomlover

Request: Jealous Harry.

Authors Note: To the Anon that requested it end in fluff, I hope you’re okay with the ending! It’s not all that fluffy, but it’s all I could come up with, especially with putting two similar requests together! But I still hope you enjoy! Also, I’m very aware that the ending of this is kind of rushed and I apologize!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Thank you SO much Gil! I really appreciate you taking over my shift!” You exclaimed, your hand reaching out and taking your friends hand as you made your way off the lower part of the dock.

“No problem, Y/N!” He smiled, his voice so full of enthusiasm that it sounded as though he was going to burst. “You’ve been put on watch every night this past week. I think you could use a break.”

You laughed, your shoulders bouncing in a ‘what can you do’ type shrug before slouching in acknowledgement. “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you start a fight with Uma.” 

Gil let out a giant laugh, his eyes lighting up in childlike innocence before nudging you in the side.

“Yeah, I guess.” He agreed, quickly taking his sword out of his belt and laying it on his chair. “But you better be careful. She might try to throw you overboard next time, and I don’t think Harry would be able to stop her.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, the image of Harry even trying to stand up to Uma roaming your mind and making you laugh. 

“Harry would let Uma throw me overboard without a second thought.” You joked, not once meaning your words, but knowing that Gil would find them hilarious. 

Gil let out a small giggle, his shoulder nudging yours once again as he led you back into Ursulas Fish and Chips and toward your dorm. 

“Anyway, thanks again, Gil! I really do appreciate this!” You proclaimed, your arms wrapping around Gils’ waist in a friendly hug. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.” You playfully winked, the joking nature of your friendship with Gil as innocent as it was flirty. 

“With what? Candy? Popcorn? Candy AND popcorn?” 

“All of it you can eat.” You replied, a small laugh escaping your lips before gently pulling away from him and making your way into your room.

You let out an exhausted sigh, the air heavy against your skin as it warmed you from the cold wetness of the dock. Breathing in deeply, you removed your belt and walked towards your drawer, your hands reaching down and removing you shirt as you prepared to change out of your ‘watch’ clothes. 

Then, suddenly and without any type of warning, a loud bang rang through your room, the sound catching you off guard and making you stop in your tracks. Lifting your shirt so that it covered your barley covered chest, you reached down and grabbed your sword, immedietly pointing towards the entrance and at whoever dared to barge into your room without a reason. That’s when you saw your best friend Harry standing at your door, his eyes staring straight into yours as he completely disregarded the fact that he had walked in on you in a personal state. 

“What the hell, Harry!? I could have killed you!” You shreiked, immedietly throwing down your sword and putting on your shirt.

“C’mon, love. You and I both know that that would never happen.” He slurred, his accent thick and rich in your ears as he made his way inside and shut the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes, quickly making your way over to your bed in order to take off your shoes. 

“Yeah, whatever. What are you doing here?” 

Harry breathed in deeply before making his way closer to you, his eyes showing an intense amount of anger that you weren’t used to seeing from him. 

“What’s your problem?” You questioned, a light giggle leaving your lips as you assumed he came to rant about something Uma made him do.

Harry cocked his head to the side, his lips curling into a playful smile as he stood mere inches from you. 

“Are you and Gil dating now?” He questioned, anger and sarcasm heavy on his voice as his darlky outlined eyes bored straight into yours. 

“No.” You laughed, immedietly pushing him out of your way and heading to your closet to put away your shoes. 

You had never even considered the idea of you and Gil dating, and you didn’t understand why anyone else would either. Gil was one of your best friends, and you did seem to playfully flirt with him a lot, but still. Everyone on the Isle knew that you’ve had a thing for Harry for years now. You were in love with him and it was completely obvious.

To everyone but Harry, that is.

“Really?” Harry suddenly continued to question, the glare from his hook bouncing off the wall and shining into your eyes as he made his way over to you. “Then what’s with all the hugging, huh? And the flirty comments?” He asked, leaning against the wall beside you. “I saw you just now, and people don’t talk like that with people that are just friends.”

“Then you obviously don’t have very many friends, do ya stud?” You joked, a small shrug leaving your shoulders as you heard him give you an angry sigh. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Harry. Gil and I aren’t dating.” You continued, not understanding why he would care so much about it in the first place. “Besides, why is it any of your business who I date?”

Harry looked at you in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed in a strange mixture of shock and anger before he leaned away from the wall and hovered over you.

“Damn, Y/N. Are you really that blind?” He seethed, his voice so full of venom that you felt as though you’d been bitten.

“Hey, back off.” You demanded, completely confused as to what had made Harry so mad at you all of a sudden. You and Harry had had plenty of fights during your friendship, but he had never been angry at you. Not like this. 

But the fact that he was angry at you wasn’t even the problem. It was what he was angry about. He had no reason to question you about your completely non-romantic relationship with Gil, and if anyone had a right to be mad, it was you for his complete inability to see that the only person you wanted to date was standing right in front of you.

“What the hell’s your problem, Harry? Why are you questioning me all of a sudden?” You asked, quickly walking over to him and poking him in the chest. “Besides, you may be my best friend, but you don’t have the right to get angry with me about something as personal as dating. That’s none of your business.”

“Best friend? Just…seriously, Y/N? Don’t you see that that’s the problem!” He scoffed, his eyes becoming glassy as his anger turned into disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, confusion filling your face as you questioned why your friendship was suddenly a problem for him.

“Because…” He started loudly, his voice fading to a whisper as he realized what he was about to say. “Because I just…” He continued, not being able to find the right words as his eyes traveled across your confused stricken face. “Oh, screw it.” He breathed, his hands suddenly reaching out and bringing his face towards yours.

Letting out a surprised squeal, you couldn’t help the shock that crossed your face as Harry’s lips connected with yours. You were frozen for a moment, your eyes wide open and looking into space before you finally gave in and kissed him back.

The kiss was slow at first, the deep flavor of sweat and saltwater heavy on your tongue as you pulled him closer to you. Harry pressed against you softly, his hands quickly leaving your face and wrapping around your waist as he lightly dug his hook into your lower back.

Giving you a relieved sigh, Harry removed his hook from behind your back and pressed you against the wall, his hot tongue immedietely making its way towards your lips as your nails ran diligently down his sides.

Letting out a gasp, you pulled away, the need for air becoming too strong as your mind tried to register what exactly was going on. 

“I…I um…” You started, your speech completely gone as you tried to figure out what to say.  “I..I -”

“That,” Harry interrupted, his face mere inches from yours as he continued to press against you. “That’s why I wanted to know.”

i’m actually incredibly shocked at the amount of people who heard “dave filoni might be turning ahsoka into a wolf” and jumped to conclusions without thinking.

allow me to introduce The Mortis Theory.

this is the daughter: 

she’s an incredibly powerful force user from the Clone Wars who lived on a planet called Mortis. she pretty much /was/ the light side.

this is the daughter’s other form:

she could turn into a griffin at will. her brother could turn into a gargoyle. it was kind of a Thing with these guys.

While on Mortis, Ahsoka was turned to the dark side by the Son and later killed. The Daughter, dying of a stab wound, offered Ahsoka her life force. this was channeled through Anakin into Ahsoka, bringing her back to life.

this whole ordeal was never addressed again.

not in The Clone Wars, at least.

Ever since I first watched the Mortis arc, I’ve had the theory that Ahsoka gained more than the Daughter’s life force. i think it’s incredibly likely that she gained some of the Daughter’s abilities as well, and those helped her to become the incredibly skilled force-wielder she is today. it might even have helped her survive her fight with vader.

(side note- doesn’t this convor have the same color scheme as seen above? this is the same convor flying around ahsoka’s head shortly before they leave for malachor.)

after Twilight of the Apprentice aired, these cards, drawn by dave filoni, came out. oh, hey, is that a convor?

i’ll let you draw your own conclusions here. also hello, non-wolf ahsoka.

and then we have this.

In conclusion, the Daughter was the personification of the light side, could turn into an animal at will and gave her life force to Ahsoka Tano. now that Ahsoka has that life force, does that mean she can turn into an animal at will? I guess we’ll see. I’m personally not sold but it’s quite possible. In any case, if that wolf is Ahsoka, i seriously doubt she’ll be a wolf all the time. 

Tennessee Whiskey

Title: Tennesee Whiskey

Summary: Dean Winchester doesn’t think he can fall in love. But every time he thinks of the way he’s around her, the way she makes him smile even in the darkest of days, he starts to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s wrong.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader

Word count: 2315

Warnings: Hmmm. Like the tiniest bit of angst. Drinking as a coping mechanism (not healthy, but this is Dean we’re talking about, so, you know…). And fluff, guys. So much fluff.  

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @supernatural-jackles Jen’s SPN Birthday Challenge. My sweetest friend, Jen, happy birthday (even if I’m a few days early) and thank you so much for letting me participate. I loved working on this one.

My prompt for this was a gif that’s inserted into the fic. The story is very much based on Chris Stapleton’s Tennessee Whiskey (which is the most amazing song ever and has Dean’s name all over it *cough* the glorious Jensen Ackles has covered that song and it’s a dream *cough*)

Special thank you to my twin @ravengirl94 because she is the best best-friend and writing guru in the world (and because she kept me sane these past few weeks). You’re the best, twin. 

Thank y’all for bearing with me. Enjoy <3 

Originally posted by dontlookatmeitwashim


Dean Winchester had always liked bars.

He liked the way they looked, deep mahogany booths and age-speckled lights making him feel at home in places that had seen their fair share of stories, the way that distinct scent of cigarette smoke and aged whiskey clung to his clothes afterwards, like it was a piece of him.

He liked the inverted bottles that were pressed along the walls, the beer and the whiskey and the bourbon, and the way it burnt down his throat and made him feel something, anything, on those nights he was far too numb and far too broken to believe he was alive in the first place.

Alcohol used to be Dean’s poison and fuel anyway; it cleansed the impure parts of him and kept him going when he felt like there wasn’t much to keep going for.

And then she came along.

Y/N waltzed into his life years ago, when she’d shakily shot the werewolf that had kidnapped her right in the heart, and, ever since that day, she’d somehow managed to wove herself deep into the fabric of his existence.

He didn’t even notice at first.

Keep reading

Straightforward

Originally posted by porkdo-bi

Park Chanyeol x Reader - Fluff

Words: 3.5K

Summary: You were straightforward, maybe a bit too straightforward for people’s taste but that’s what made Chanyeol fall for you. Of course, that straightforwardness caused trouble in every interview. Especially when it came to a certain interview with the question, “Who is somebody you have a crush on right now?”


Chanyeol would be lying if he said he didn’t have feelings for you. It was undeniably obvious to his members and probably everyone in SM Entertainment. Park Chanyeol’s feelings for fellow SM star, (L/n) (F/n). From your cute little smile to your infamous straightforwardness, EXO’s rapper couldn’t help but gravitate towards you. Of course, everyone but you knew about his feelings and honestly, it frustrated him. There was a part of him that wished you would just find out so as to save him from actually confessing but there was another part that wanted to confess to you.

Even worse, the FANS knew about his crush. It was ridiculous how sharp the fans were. Fancams would catch the twinkle in his eyes when you stood next to him or how he would immediately dart his head at the sight of you. He found it insane how fans knew about it but you. But maybe you did know and refused to address it? He wasn’t sure.

Oh, right. Straightforwardness. (L/n) (F/n) was known in the K-Pop community for her straightforward personality.

Funniest (L/n) (F/n) Moments (Part 1) was the video title Chanyeol clicked on in his messy dorm room. He loved watching videos about you. L-O-V-E-D. It was his favorite pastime. Besides, the fans are really good at editing so he wouldn’t have to scour through hundreds of interviews to find one of you being sassy.

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victorian-enjolras  asked:

yo please teach me about oscar wilde i really wanna get into him but i dont know where to start

oh boy have you come to the right place!!!! let me tell you about this man!!! 

this is probably my favourite picture of him because of his expression… i mean how is that not universally relatable…

Crash Course Biography:

  • Oscar marries his wife Constance in 1884, had 2 kids & decided he didn’t actually like her all that much & i’m like 70% sure they never had sex after kid #2
  • 1886 Robbie Ross (light of my life) turns up & is unabashedly homosexual - most people attribute Robbie as the one to bring Oscar to the Side of Gay.
  • Oscar struts about town, living a life that Henry Wotton would wholeheartedly advocate. He assumes the role of a ‘dandy’ - think flamboyance from every angle & add some frills. This was cool for him as it wasn’t seen as synonymous with being gay, just being a dramatist. 
  • 1891 is when Lord “Bosie” Douglas turns up & introduces Oscar to more gay stuff & more illegal stuff like weed & brothels & prostitution 
  • 1894 is when Bosie’s dad finds out about their relationship, flips out & takes Oscar to court for being illegally gay in 1895 :(
  • 1895 Oscar counters the charge by saying the case was unfounded (it totally wasn’t, he really did have a lot of sex) & whilst his epigrams / wit won him initial support, it all went downhill quite quickly. there’s another 2 trials for Oscar whilst all his friends pack up & get out of England (Robbie breaks into Oscar’s house upon request & packs up some of Oscar’s stuff, then legs it out to Paris) 
  • I think that the judge doesn’t even let Oscar have any last words in court i mean is that not the most heartbreaking, soul crushing thing you can do to this man 
  • Oscar does his sentence of 2 years hard labor in prison & gets hit in the head / ear - this injury & botched treatment is to be the cause of his death
  • He goes to Paris under exile & as far as I can gather lives with Robbie’s help but spent a lot of the time rejecting his help too. Also Oscar tries to live with Bosie again but both of their families are having exactly none of that behavior.
  • Oscar dies in Paris at the age of 46

Works:
Importance of Being Ernest is the 1st work of Oscar’s I read & I have never looked back. it’s short & sweet & hysterically funny, the humour is in no way dated & I love it
Picture of Dorian Gray please read this book as I have read it more than 7 times now & I need someone to rhapsodise about this with. It’s honestly a brilliant book with a totally cool plot & 3 fascinating characters (3 guesses who my fave is…it’s basil… it’s always basil)
The Ballad of Reading Gaol is the last work Oscar created before his death, & it’s about the harsh reality of prison & honestly I cry just because of the context
The Happy Prince & Other Tales so, my parents used to read these to me as a kid & like…is it really any wonder i love Oscar Wilde so much…I really honestly adore these stories!! 

Films:
Wilde (1997) Stephen Fry has been my standard image for Henry Wotton but he does make a damn good Oscar & also Michael Sheen as Robbie Ross is everything
Dorian Gray (2009) now…i have to admit i haven’t watched this but with all things considered i think i’m slightly justified in that due to the blatant disregard of Dorian’s descriptions in the book

Articles / other things to check out!!
queerhistoryproject has 2 great articles on Oscar here & here!! 
An article on Dorian Gray which is great 
This article explains a bit about where Oscar was coming from in the whole ‘aestheticism’ movement!!
And if you’re really keen (like me) there’s this one on Ernest 

I’ll cut my info dump off here - it seems like an ok place to stop! I’ll probably make more posts about Oscar-related things & any lit revision that I think might be useful to put up on this blog? I hope you enjoy the crash-course in Oscar Wilde & that this is all somewhat useful!! :]

@xxtorchxx made this gorgeous manip and it lit a fire of inspiration in me.  She was kind and generous enough to allow me to lend my words to her perfect image.  Just bask in this brilliance for awhile.   As should go without saying, do not repost, re-use or claim this work as your own.  If you like it, use that little reblog button in the bottom right corner of the post.

A million thank-yous @xxtorchxx for your talent and creativity and for your thoughts on this little fic to complement it.  

Thanks to @reginalovesemma for the edits.  As always, you elevate my work.


A note about this little fic.  Mon-El was never Kara’s boyfriend.  In this little world, he was the funny, goofy, sidekick pal we all deserved him to be.  Kara misses him and does have to deal with the loss of a friend, but he did not have the dominating presence in her life he was given in canon.

Please enjoy!

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‘i can’t help but want’ epilogue

i wrote a short little piece for @legendarydesvender for her birthday. i’d just released this fic when we started talking, and i still remember fondly that she doodled a little spock!keith for me during the livestream that we met in. happy birthday sven!! you’re lovely and wonderful and make me laugh every single day  💖💖💖

keith/lance (2112 words) 

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7 minutes in heaven

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The party people wants you and Pietro together because everyone but you two knew each other’s feelings. 

Warnings: Heated kissing? 

A/N: Feedback is love.


Originally posted by loud-and-messy

Alcohol and food always meant trouble at the Stark Tower, especially on Fridays when everyone had had enough of an extenuating week of researching and short missions. The team wanted to have a party; one like the old times. One in which someone ended up naked or going at it with another team member.

Tony and Natasha had it all set up; they had prepared everything from Monday that week until they realized what was missing. They weren’t the kind of people who put much thought into their feelings, and they didn’t like when others pondered too long about the dos and don’ts regarding other people. (Y/N) was one of those.

In endless conversations, she had spoken to both of them about what she felt for the speedster, Pietro Maximoff and how confused she was because she wasn’t sure if his behavior towards her was a sign of what he felt.

And Pietro was another boring conversation they hated to have, although it wasn’t very often that the Sokovian decided to open up his heart with other person than his sister, who was troubled enough to feel something for a “man” who was not really aware of what feelings were, but she went along with it, unlike her brother.

Night time had arrived, and the Avengers had a few drinks on them; they were all relaxed thanks to the countless beers and shots available. Natasha broke the laughter with a few simple words.

“Shall we play a game?” The redhead smiled wickedly. The team cheered up, but little did they know what her idea was. “I was thinking that maybe we could play 7 minutes in heaven?”

“How old are you, Romanoff?” Clint teased. She glared at him.

“I say we could use the fun.” Tony backed Nat. “Besides, everyone loves a hook up.”

The discussion didn’t last long, and while Natasha and Tony went to set up the papers, Wanda came closer to both of them. She helped them quietly until she saw what they were up to. There were lots of papers with Pietro’s and (Y/N)’s name and it didn’t take long for her to realize their true intentions.

“You know;” she said as she folded the papers; “if you want to set my brother and (Y/N) up, you could’ve asked instead of killing so many trees.” Her voice was calmed, but it still had a taint of a silly giggle in it. She smiled at them as her eyes turned red and the threads of energy moved the papers to the hats.

“So them being together doesn’t bother you?” Natasha asked, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. “I mean, your face isn’t very cheerful when they’re together. No offense, but it looks like you truly hate them.”

“Not taken,” the brunette woman giggled, “but it’s the problem with my face, Pietro says the same thing. Anyway—“she shook her head—“do you want the help or not?” The older avengers nodded, and now the three were onto something.

The first ones to go were Steve and Natasha, and by the flush on her cheeks, she surely received something good. Steve licked his lips lusciously and sat as if nothing ever happened. Then, it was Pietro’s turn to draw a paper. Wanda tricked the hat and when Pietro unfolded the cutout, it was (Y/N)’s name on it. Tony, Natasha and the witch shared a meaningful look and tried not to laugh at the terrible coincidence.

(Y/N) took Pietro’s hand and seductively looked at him; he bit his bottom lip and followed her to the closet. She turned on the lights inside it and sat on the ottoman that Tony kept. They stayed in silence, stealing looks from one another and turning their heads away when their eyes met. (Y/N) groaned and threw her head back onto the wall.

“Do we use this time to make out or we’re gonna keep quiet?” Pietro teased from the other side of the closet.

“I don’t know,” (Y/N) shrugged, “but now that you mention it… can we have a little talk?” He nodded a silent reply. “Do you like me? I mean, are you trying to flirt with me because you like me or because you wanna fuck me?”

“Both.” He snickered. “Haven’t I been explicit?”

“Not really.” (Y/N) shook her head. “And it’s been awfully confusing, Piet.” She sighed deeply. “I don’t wanna be another one of your hook ups, I believe I deserve more than that.”

Pietro whooshed to (Y/N)’s position and placed his hands on both sides of her body. She tensed immediately when the speedster’s lips were too close to hers. Inside her chest, her heart beat like crazy and she couldn’t stop looking up to those bright blue eyes that were almost intimidating. His hot breath brushed her face and in a split second, his mouth molded with hers in a perfect kiss.

(Y/N) cupped his face in her hands and Pietro quickly, and effortlessly, picked her up and he sat on the ottoman instead. She straddled his lap and gently rocked her hips to get more friction. Pietro’s lips parted from (Y/N)’s and he kissed down her jawline and stopped on her pulse point to suck a bruise.

Her heart was beating so fast that Pietro could feel its rhythm under his lips. She moaned softly when his teeth sunk on her skin and his strong hands played with the hem of her top, but before they could get any more excited, the doors were flew open with several heads peering inside. The two were cut off by a group of nosy avengers, whose faces showed how happy they were.

“Those weren’t 7 minutes.” (Y/N) shook her head in annoyance.

“Printsessa,” Pietro whispered to her hear softly, “I believe we spent two or threw just looking at each other and talking.” Then, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek and helped her up again.

They left the closet holding hands while the most eager ones, Natasha, Tony and Wanda, cheered up on them and their new accomplishment.

Day 2 of Undyne Appreciation Week @undyne-appreciation

Running a day behind because I ended up falling asleep after my July 4th party and couldn’t do this yesterday. I’m gonna try to get Day 3 done before day 4, but no promises! 

My favorite thing about Undyne is really tricky to pin down exactly, but I like how even though she’s a tough warrior heroine who will punch her problems in the face, suplex a boulder, and burn down her own house to make some INTENSE spaghetti, she’s also got this quiet, thoughtful side to her. She meditates, she’s clearly given a lot of careful thought to whether she should accept Papyrus into the Guard, she spends hours practicing speeches, she values a quiet cup of tea and conversation, and she writes a letter over and over again, because she can never find the right words.

She’s got this super caring, thoughtful, contemplative and romantic side to her that you might not expect, even though she seems afraid to completely show it. It’s a great juxtaposition with her toughness and more aggressive nature and high energy.

I love her.

anonymous asked:

Eliza! :D Do a mini story of Kara meeting Lena in the train to London! If you would like? Or like, something with Kara and Lena in the UK, in a place you like? If you're not inspired then no worries, I wish you a good day <3

there’s a distractingly athletic girl walking down the train, counting seats. lena lets herself watch until the girl is five rows away and then she returns her eyes to her computer screen.

“thirty six, thirty five, thirty four, thirty three, god this train goes on forever,” she mutters and lena smiles down at an email in which she’s referred to as incompetent twice. the girl has a nice voice, american accent obvious but it’s light like it’s learned and the way she speaks the numbers is odd. lena can’t quite pinpoint what it is, exactly, and when the girl speaks again, right at lena’s side, she looks up and into unexpectedly blue eyes. “twenty seven! and a friend, hello!”

“hello,” lena returns, and the girl pulls off her hiking pack and lifts it effortlessly up into the roof racks. her shirt lifts slightly and lena looks out the window, face hot.

“would you like me to lift your bag up?”

lena knows she hadn’t brought a bag with her so the girl isn’t speaking to her - she turns, curious, and there’s the tiniest old lady lena has ever seen chatting away with lena’s “friend” in what she’s pretty sure is welsh. the suitcase is as big as the lady and the girl lifts it like it weighs nothing, tucking it neatly into place. she speaks with her for a little longer, checks the ticket and walks her to seat “thirty four!” as the girl happily announces.

finally, only a few minutes before the train is set to depart, the girl takes her own seat. she looks around for a minute for a seatbelt, grins sheepishly to lena when there isn’t one.

“hi again. i’m kara.”

she doesn’t hold her hand out or anything like that, not at first. when lena nods and says, “lena,” back, kara jumps like she’d forgotten and she holds out her hand, which lena takes. she wouldn’t normally, perhaps, but she’s nineteen and terribly gay and kara has really nice hands. they’re warm and dry and soft and wrap gently around her hand, a bit larger than lena’s own. her nails are short and broad and very clean without a hint of paint and lena looks a little abashedly at the faintly chipping purple on her own nails.

“i like the purple,” kara says, hesitating over the word purple, and lena is entranced and allows herself to be swayed away from her momentary shame. “i don’t really paint my nails, i never seem to have time for it. sometimes i paint my toes with my sister but not very often.” there’s something wistful in that and lena looks to her email and closes the top of her computer. “oh, you don’t have to do that!”

“it’s work,” lena tells her, which is as much again as she’s already said to this stranger. “i appreciate the distraction, if i’m honest.”

“in that case,” kara grins - so happily and prettily lena suspects she doesn’t realise how absolutely right she is when she says, “i am an Excellent distraction.”

kara is eighteen and taking some time off university, she tells lena exactly two minutes into their journey. she loves learning and the whole university experience, but there were so many people and sometimes, she confesses, it’s very nice to be around people you won’t see ever again.

lena nods. she can understand that.

kara doesn’t seem to mind that for every seven things she tells lena about herself, lena says one. maybe one. she just carries on, big gestures and big smiles and big stories.

“okay, okay,” kara laughs, hands up. “that’s enough from me,” she insists. lena’s sides hurt from laughing - at kara, technically, but since she was laughing too it didn’t feel mean, and really what other response to kara being dragged on stage with an improvisation crew was there? “i need to recover,”

“no please, go on,” lena teases, and she’s certain this time that kara’s eyes dip down to her lips. she’s been almost certain five times now but this time, this time she’s truly certain. her smile grows and kara flushes a light pink.

“no,” kara tells her, a little weakly. she clears her throat. “i’m, um, mortified.”

“with good reason,” lena tells her, and then dread freezes her gut because that was too mean, kara has been nothing but nice, that was nasty - but kara is laughing and nodding and lena sips at her terrible coffee, trying to unthaw. “i’m sorry,”

“no, honestly, i don’t know how i managed to get in so much trouble,” kara laughs. she drinks her coffee and makes a face.

“we can order you something else, you know,” lena offers, and relief wrecks kara’s displeased expression.

“really?”

“of course,” lena says smoothly, though this is one more in a now significantly long list of Slightly Odd Things kara has done. she can’t quite figure out how they’re connected but she can’t help noting them.

“great. it’s just, they came past with the tray and i didn’t know what they said so when you said coffee and i just copied you.” kara flushes again but it’s a miserable kind of embarrassment and lena finds herself reaching across the little table and taking kara’s hand. she rubs her thumb over the sharp knobs of her knuckles and smiles.

“i had a dreadfully boring trip,” she tells kara, ignoring her embarrassment. “i was working the entire time and the only good part so far has been you.” the words come out without planning and lena wants to snatch them back out of the air where they hang for a frozen moment but it’s too late.

kara is smiling again, a little shyly but so pleased, and lena decides she’ll just have to leave it if it makes kara smile like that.

“what are you working on?”

“wind turbines, for my brothers company. we’re looking at prototypes we can use here since they already use them.”

“that’s very cool,” kara compliments, which lena shrugs away. “smart is sexy,” she tells lena like she’s repeating it from someone, and then she flushes absolutely red and pulls her hand gently away. “i mean, that’s what i’ve heard!”

“right.” lena tries not to laugh at her, she really does, but kara lifts both hands up to hide her face and it’s so endearing lena laughs - once, loudly, and surprised by the volume she stops but can’t entirely halt the quiet laughs. she lifts one hand to cover her mouth and kara peeks over at her, the corner of her mouth tilted up in, lena examines her for a moment, perhaps the softest smile lena has ever been treated to. “kara,” lena begins, making sure that there are plenty of free seats to move to if necessary, “do you want to make out with me?”

kara stares at her for a moment, hands dropping to her lap. she licks her lips. “uh,”

lena tilts her head invitingly to the seats near them, side by side, and kara stands so quickly her head hits the roof racks above.

lena hisses sympathetically and kara is a touch slow to lift a hand, to grimace at the pain. there’s a strange creaking sound when lena stands, but she can’t be certain where it’s coming from, so she ignores it. very easily indeed when kara slides into the seat next to her and she’s warm and lena can put her hand on her thigh and the other around her neck and tug her in for a surprisingly gentle kiss. and quick.

“kara?”

“sorry i’m just,” kara grins, waves a hand very vaguely. “this is really nice and you’re so soft and you smell really good and i’m really enjoying this, it’s just really new.”

“oh.” lena pauses. “do you want to stop?”

“no! i have a great learning curve, don’t even worry!” kara reassures her about something lena hadn’t been worried about, and it has the incredible benefit of making lena think about other things kara might pick up very quickly.

“right,” she says, mostly to herself but a little to kara who is examining her like she’s something precious to memorise, and she returns the favour for a moment before leaning in slowly and pressing her lips to kara’s again, shivering when she feels kara respond, press closer, slip her hand into her thick hair and cradle the back of her head - like she’s precious, lena thinks again, and she introduces a little teeth.

it’s ridiculous how much kara likes that, and how hot she sounds when she sighs happily or moans when lena first kisses her neck, and lena finds herself abruptly furious at the thought that this might end as soon as the train pulls into london.

“what are you doing tonight?” she asks kara, who doesn’t mind that they’ve stopped, just leans back against the armrest with her mussed hair and a happy smile.

“um, going to my hostel. but nothing else. why?”

“stay with me,” lena suggests.

kara blinks. then, before lena can explain or reassure her that she’s not a serial killer, she nods. “sure. i would love that.”

lena stares at her. then, not wanting to point out all the reasons why that probably shouldn’t have been her answer, she pulls kara into another kiss.

she’s the strangest girl lena has ever met, and for maybe the first time this is someone lena wants to…to be around. not just someone to annoy her mother or to get away from home for a night or because she hasn’t spoken to someone for a week and she’s recognising the signs of loneliness, but genuine connection. and lena knows her own faults: she knows her voracity, and her wants, and her rather embarrassing desperation for someone’s entire attention, and her tendency to build relationships with the least amount of interaction as possible so she cut people very sharply out of her life with very little difficulty. but this time, she thinks, it feels different.

anonymous asked:

Prompt because I can never have enough angst in my life: Elorcan modern AU where they get in a fight and one of them leaves the house with hurtful words thrown at each other, one of them is severely injured somehow?? Idk really

This was only supposed to be like 1,000 words, oooooooooops.

————————-

“I just don’t understand why you’re so angry! I didn’t do anything!”
Elide and Lorcan were in the kitchen of his small apartment, the latter leaning on the counter with his arms crossed across his chest, while the former had her thin arms braced on the table.
“Oh, please,” he spat at her. “This Luca guy wouldn’t continually ask you out for no reason. You’ve never even told him about me, have you?”
“Of course I have, Lorcan!” She said, spinning around to look at him. Her arms fell to her sides helplessly. “Every time he asks me to hang out after work, I politely tell him no, because I have you.”
He growled, “Maybe I need to tell him, and not so politely.”
“What were you even doing there?” She asked.
Lorcan ran a frustrated hand through his long hair. “What? Am I not allowed to visit you at your job?”
“You are,” she sighed, “But you kind of ambushed me.”
“Ambushed you?” He asked, his voice raising. “I was trying to surprise you! I was-.”
Cutting him off, she asked incredulously, “Were you checking up on me?”
“For the last time, NO!” He roared. “I just wanted to come surprise you. But then I walk up and I see that asshole had his hand on your arm and then you, you actually touched his chest! And I hear him telling you about how he’ll take ‘good care of you’ at the party on Friday night? What party, Elide? Huh?” A humorless laugh left his mouth. “On second thought, maybe I do need to check up on you at work.”
“I’m not a child, Lorcan.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“And,” she said, ignoring his comment, “you don’t own me.”
With his long legs, it only took three steps until he was standing directly in front of her, towering down over her small frame. He grasped her left hand and held it up, letting the light catch on the diamond ring encircling her finger. “Do you see this, Elide? It means that you are mine, and only mine. You are not my possession, but you are mine, to protect, to care for, to love.” He let go and her hand dropped limply to her side. Turning around he walked to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a beer and popping its lid off.
“Baby, I-.”
“Just get out, Elide,” he cut her off, not turning around to look at her. “Go home. I need to…think about some things.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He’d never asked her to leave. In all the years they’d been together, they always worked their fights out. “Lorcan-.”
“Get out.” He growled.
Breathlessly, voice shaking, she asked, “What do you need to think about?”
“Leave, Elide. Now”
Silently, Elide grabbed her keys off of the counter and her purse from the kitchen table. She walked to the door and with a hand on the knob, called to him, “I love you.”
Nothing but silence answered her from the kitchen.
————————-
Lorcan knew he had overreacted.
He knew he was an ass and that he should never have asked her to leave. He didn’t need to think about shit. He loved Elide Lochan, and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The happiest day of his life was the day she had agreed to marry him.
This Luca prick at work was going to have to stop though. He texted her non stop and apparently had been asking Elide out every week without fail. He may need to make a stop in on Elide’s next day off.
For the thousandth time that night, he rolled over and looked at her empty side of the bed. By now, her inky black hair would be draped across her pillow. Her clothes would be in a heap at the end of the bed. Her small frame would be curled up against his. He ran an exasperated hand down his face.
He fucked up and he knew it. He rolled over and picked his phone up off the nightstand. She hadn’t texted him even once, hadn’t called him. He expected that she would’ve texted as soon as she got home, but she must have been pretty upset with him. She hadn’t tweeted or posted on Facebook or anything, which led him to believe she fell asleep as soon as she walked in the door.
He could hear her cries in his head and he felt like a piece of shit for causing her pain. Swallowing his pride, he sent her a text.
“I’m sorry. I’m a jealous ass, but I love you more than my own life. Call me in the morning. I love you so much.”
He watched the little, blue bubble send off and waited for it to read “Delivered” underneath. Hell, maybe he’d get lucky and it would show up as “Read”. If it did, he’d call her. He’d blow her phone up until she answered and he’d apologize for being the piece of shit fiancé that he was.
But it never delivered. The blue bubble turned green as it sent as an old school text message. Lorcan’s eyebrows rose and he decided to call her, to see if he could fix this now. It immediately went to voicemail. Her phone must have died.
Sighing, he rolled over and put his phone back on the nightstand. He’d fix this in the morning. He’d go see her in the morning and he’d make everything right. But first, he needed to get some sleep.
————————-
There was a pounding on his door. Lorcan sat up and jumped out of bed, grabbing the 9mm he kept on his nightstand, next to his badge. The banging continued. A look at the clock on its surface told him it was just after two in the morning.
Popping the safety off and loading one in the chamber, Lorcan crept through his apartment until he got to the door, where the pounding was still happening. A glance at the peephole had him groaning and setting his gun on the small table Elide had distressed and placed by the doorway. He swung open the door to reveal his partner dressed in his blue uniform. “What the hell are you doing here, Whitethorn? It’s two in the gods damned morning.”
“Lorcan, we need to go, now.”
Immediately, Lorcan was on red alert.
“What are you talking about?”
The man in front of him, the man he’d known his whole life and worked with on the force for over 4 years, that was pain in his pine green eyes. Pain and pity.
“It’s Elide.” His heart stopped. “Lorcan, there’s been an accident.”
————————-
Rowan was just starting his overnight patrol when he got a call over his radio about an accident involving an overturned vehicle on South Terrasen Rd, headed towards Adarlan. Since he had just made a stop nearby, he radioed that he was close and turned on his lights.
As he approached the accident, he turned his spotlight on and his heart dropped into his stomach.
An extremely familiar car was wrapped around a tree, upside down.
Rowan had pulled over friends and family members in his 4 years with the Erilea Police Department. He’d had to arrest former classmates and people that he knew. He’d even had to escort funerals of people he’d known his entire life. He’d never had a problem putting on the mask that made him “Officer Whitethorn” and staying professional. Until tonight.
He jumped out of his patrol car, screaming, “Elide?!”
He sprinted towards the wreckage, calling her name, listening for her to reply. He heard nothing.
Grabbing his radio at his shoulder, he called out, “This is Officer Whitethorn, I need paramedics to the accident on South Terrasen ASAP.”
He reached the car, just as his radio went off. “How many passengers?”
He got on his hands and knees to look into the car and almost vomited due to the fear coursing through his veins.
Elide was hanging from her seat, held in by her seatbelt, thank the gods. However, her arm was crushed between her body and the door. It was twisted at an unnatural angle and he could see a bone piercing through her forearm. Blood was trickling from her head, originating from a wound he couldn’t see in her hair. She was unconscious. And he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
He radioed back to the dispatcher, “One female passenger, I can’t tell if she’s unconscious or de-.” His voice broke. “Deceased.”
The radio clicked back. “Standby.”
Grabbing at his shoulder, he called back, “Dispatch, I’m going to attempt to remove her.”
Silence met him.
“Officer Whitethorn, wait for assistance. Erilea Fire is on the way and-.”
“The passenger is Officer Salvaterre’s fiancée.”
More silence. A new voice came through the radio.
“Are you positive it’s Elide?” The usually confident voice was shaking.
“It’s- it’s her, Manon,” he said, wiping the sweat that was starting to appear on his brow.
“Did you say deceased?”
He closed his eyes. “I- I can’t tell, she’s not in good shape, and I-.” He paused and had to collect himself.
“Get her out of that gods damned car, Rowan. I’m calling Aelin.”
He took that as permission and sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands. With Elide unconscious, he didn’t have to warn her to look away. Pressing his boots against the passenger window, he brought his legs back and smashed his feet into glass. It shattered, sending shards everywhere in the car. Elide didn’t so much as twitch.
“Elide?” He called out, hoping just maybe she would hear him and wake up.
Crawling into the wreckage, he reached a shaking hand to her neck and felt for a pulse.
He waited, his body going cold.
There. There it was.
It was weak, so faint that he could barely feel it.
“Manon!” He called over his radio.
“Go, Whitethorn,” Asterin’s voice called back.
“She’s alive, but she’s fading fast.”
A silent pause met him. “An ambulance is close, less than a mile away. Can she hold on that long?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I haven’t even gotten her out of the car yet. I just got her pulse.”
“Continue on, keep us updated.”
Elide’s left arm was crushed by the door, her right hanging below her body. He had to do this carefully. One wrong move and she would fall from her seat and that could be it. He ran a finger along the seatbelt, and that’s when he noticed blood on her abdomen.
A shard of metal from her mangled door was jutting directly into her side.
“I can’t get her out,” he said into the radio. “She has a laceration on her left side. Wreckage and shrapnel. I don’t know if it’s hit anything major. I can’t risk cutting her down without an ambulance here.”
Manon’s clear voice called back to him. “It’s almost to you. Asterin is tracking them. The EFD should be pulling up any second.”
“10/4.”
Rowan did the only thing he could think to do. He took Elide’s limp hand in his own and prayed. He prayed to every god and goddess he could think of, regardless of what they were the deity of. After a moment, he heard approaching sirens and crawled out of the car.
The engine parked and men jumped out. In the darkness, they all looked the same and he couldn’t point a single one out until he heard “Whitethorn!”
Running over to the Captain, he passed the other men and relayed the information he’d discovered to them. As he approached, Chaol grabbed his arm. “Is it really Elide?”
Rowan ran a hand through his silver hair. “Yeah, it is. It’s not good, man.”
“Have you called Aelin?” Chaol asked.
He shook his head. “No, Manon said she would. I need to let Lorcan know though.”
Chaol’s chestnut eyes were somber. “Go. Fenrys and Gavriel are on their way.” An ambulance was pulling up and a second patrol car was behind it. “Get out of here. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Rowan clapped the man on the shoulder and ran to his patrol car. Getting in, he dialed the number of his oldest friend, trying to figure out how he was going to tell him what had happened. He didn’t answer. Hanging up, he dialed him again. No answer. He left a voicemail.
“Man, I need you to answer or call me back immediately, it’s an emergency.”
He sent him a quick text saying the exact same thing.
Turning the car on, he tried to dial him one more time. As he pulled away from the accident, glancing at it in his rear view mirror, he sent up one last to prayer to anyone who was listening.
————————-
By the time Rowan and Lorcan pulled up to the hospital, Manon had called Rowan, letting him know they’d had to cut Elide from car. They’d taken her to the hospital and she’d gone immediately into surgery. Not only had her arm been destroyed, but there was bleeding and swelling on her brain and her common iliac artery had been severed by the wreckage.
Lorcan hadn’t said a single word since Rowan appeared at his door and he wasn’t about to push his friend to speak. Had the roles been reversed, Rowan didn’t know what he would’ve done.
They sat in a silent waiting room, as one by one their friends filed in, in various states of emotion. Aelin and Lysandra were barely holding it together, where Manon was a stone wall of strength, the only indication of her fear being the vice grip she had on Dorian’s hand.
Lorcan’s elbows were braced on his knees, his hands knotted into his long, black hair. Every now and then, his friends would hear a quiet sniff come from him, but for the most part, he was a shell of his normal, sarcastic self.
Bits of every conversation floated over to him.
“When did it happen?”
“I wonder where she was going.”
“She got off work at 10:30, I don’t know why she was out so late.”
“Why wasn’t she at home?”
“Because of me,” he whispered, and the waiting room went silent.
“What?” Aedion asked, Lysandra’s hand held tightly in his own.
“She wasn’t at home because of me,” he said again, dragging a hand through his dark hair and tying it in a knot at the back of his head. Faint tracks could be seen from tears that had slipped down his face. “We- We had a fight. It was stupid.” He pulled his hand over his face, wiping the tears away, sniffing. “I told her to get out. I made her leave. And now…” He trailed off, and the warrior broke down. No one had ever seen Lorcan cry. Elide was the only who had ever been able to break down his walls.
Manon stood up, taking careful steps across the waiting room, and stopped in front of the broken man. He glanced up at her.
And a silver tipped hand smacked across his face.
The waiting room erupted into chaos. Dorian pulled Manon back across the room as she started to yell at Lorcan, who just sat there, blood pooling from the thin scratches she’d left on his face. Aelin stood up and got in Manon’s face, Rowan quickly grabbing at her to pull her back to her seat. Aedion, Lysandra and Asterin stood back ready to grab someone and drag them out if need be.
“Excuse me?!”
The group of friends silenced and found a stoic man standing by the entryway to the OR, wearing scrubs.
“Which one of you is Mr. Salvaterre?”
Lorcan’s head snapped back up and he stood. “I am.”
“I need to speak with you.” With that, he walked towards the desk, away from the group.
Lorcan watched him walk away and felt a small hand squeeze his own. He looked over to Aelin and nodded, before following the doctor.
“How is she?” He asked, stopping in front of the man.
“I’m Dr. Emrys Mistland. I’m the chief operating physician tonight.” He held out a hand.
Lorcan took his hand and shook it but didn’t say a word, waiting for the man to answer his question.
“Sir, were you aware that your fiancée was 7 weeks pregnant?”
Lorcan felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“She was pregnant?” He stopped. “Wait, was?”
The old man looked at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much we could do, with it being that early. We had to make the decision to focus on Elide.”
“Is she okay?” Lorcan asked. “Is she awake? Can I see her? Can I talk to her?”
Dr. Mistland gave him a sad look. “I’m afraid there’s a chance that Ms. Lochan won’t wake up. Not for a while, at least.”
The world was falling out from under Lorcan. He was going numb. He listened to the doctor, as he explained Elide’s multitude of injuries, and how they’d stabilized her, but he only heard parts of what the man was saying.
His Elide. His fiancée. The mother of his unborn child. When she’d left, she’d told him she loved him and he didn’t say it back.
And now he might never have the chance.
————————-
Four days. It had been four days since he walked into this hospital at 2:30 in the morning. Lorcan hadn’t left once.
Aelin and Manon and even Aedion had offered to stay so he could go home and shower, so he could get some good sleep.
“I’m not leaving her,” was his response every time.
Everyone had come to see her by this point, and with every passing day, more and more flowers were piling up. Cards were dropped off. Through out it all, Lorcan never left her side, never let go of her hand for more than a few minutes.
He cradled her left hand so carefully, running his thumb over the empty spot on her finger. His other hand reached up and fingered the mangled engagement ring he had slipped onto his necklace.
Standing, he brushed her dark hair back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He headed down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. He called Rowan to let Aelin know there’d been no change this morning when the nurses came in to check her vitals. Making his way back down the hall, he noticed the door to Elide’s room was cracked open. He knew he had shut it when he had left.
Quietly easing the door open, he found a man in his early twenties looking over Elide’s flowers at the window, his back to Lorcan. As he stepped inside, the door creaked and then man whirled, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a card in the other.
“Can I help you?” Lorcan asked, instantly going on his guard.
“I, uhm,” the younger man stammered. “I work with Elide. Everyone wanted me to come drop this off.” He held up the card, and set it on the table with all of her flowers, cards and other gifts.
“And those?” Lorcan asked, indicating the flowers.
“I wanted to drop them off,” he said, blushing. “Are you her brother?”
Lorcan was seeing red. This was him. This man was the cause of the whole situation they were in right now. If he would’ve just taken no for an answer the first time, the fight never would have happened, and he never would have asked Elide to leave that night. She never would have wrecked. They never would have lost their baby.
In a clipped tone, he said, “I’m her fiancé.”
The color bleached from Luca’s face. “Her fiancé? She wasn’t kidding?” He took a step back, away from the man who was almost a foot taller than him. “I thought that was just something she was saying, I never thought she meant it.”
Lorcan closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths. There was nothing that he wanted more than to beat the hell out of the kid standing in front of him, but taking the high road, he said, “I think you need to leave.”
“I- Uh.” He looked up into Lorcan’s murderous eyes. “Okay.”
Without another word, he dropped the flowers on his chair and left the room.
Making his way back over to the chair, he picked the flowers up and carried them across the room, dropping them into the trash can next to the bathroom door.
“Surprised you didn’t beat his ass…”
He spun around and saw Elide’s dark eyes were opened slightly.
“Elide,” he said, his voice cracking, and he ran to her. He carefully placed a hand on either side of her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I thought I lost you,” he cried.
“Not that easily,” she said, so quietly he could barely hear her.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so gods damned sorry, Elide. I never should have told you to leave.”
“You did nothing wrong,” she rasped, her good hand coming up to weakly grip his wrist, her thumb stroking the skin there.
“I love you so much,” he said, unable to stop the tears at last. “When I found out what happened, the only thing I could think of was the fact that you told me you loved me when you left and I didn’t say it back, and I would never get to tell you how much I loved you again.”
“I wouldn’t mind being reminded a little more often,” she joked, and he barked out a broken laugh.
“Every single day,” he promised. “Every single hour, every single minute. I’ll make sure you know just how much I love you.”
And for the rest of their days, he would.

Steve Rogers/Captain America - Scruffy

A few days ago Y/N stole Steve’s shaver from his travel pack since she couldn’t find hers and because he wasn’t supposed to on a mission for a while. She didn’t think it would be a problem. That is until Steve comes back from his mission with a little bit of scruff. The night takes a very interesting turn after dinner.

Requested by: @theoneandonlysaucymo

Pairing: Steve x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers.Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Vision (Mentioned)

Warning/s: Smut, Dom!Steve, Captain kink, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks)

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2

For @anhartcuteneon…enjoy! (I added a little bit, hope that’s okay)

Y/N bounced down the corridor of the Asgardian palace. Her father had come to speak to the Allfather about some issues his people were dealing with. Having been familiar with the area already, her father allowed her to do as she pleased while visiting. Though she was young, she knew that really didn’t mean everything. Just enough room to explore the castle.

She was humming to herself and counting her steps when she heard someone heading her way. Curious, she cocked her head to the side. She knit her brows when she saw one of the princes heading toward her. His young face seemed to light up when he saw her.

“Y/N,” the young boy called, making his way closer.
“Hello Loki,” she replied.
“Have you been here all this time?” he asked.
She nodded. “Father’s come to speak to your father. I don’t know why he brought me. I’m bored.”
There was a twinkle in Loki’s eye. “Good thing I had a surprise ready for you.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really? Where?”

Loki held out his hand. She grabbed it, excitement brimming.

“Near the garden. Come on.”

The young boy pulled the girl along with him as he ran. Y/N began to giggle as they grew closer to the garden that held a lake. The pair stopped just outside. Loki pointed across the lake.

“There,” he stated.

Y/N followed his direction to see a mother goose and her goslings. Being the animal lover she was, she didn’t hesitate to hurry closer. However, she slowed down as though not to scare the animals. She smiled at the birds who had yet to notice her.

But a moment later, the mother goose snapped its beak toward her. Instead of ignoring her, as most birds did, the animal became defensive. It started to flap its wings, startling Y/N slightly. The protective goose continued to advance on her. Frightened, Y/N got up and started running back toward from where she came. A loud laugh, belonging to Loki, reached her ears.

The momentary glance caused her to fall onto the ground. She covered her head, waiting for the goose to continue its rampage. What she didn’t see was the bird disintegrate along with the goslings.

With small tears, Y/N glanced up. Loki was still laughing at her expense. Realizing that he had tricked her, more tears prickled at the edge of her eyes. With a quiet wailing, she stood and started running inside.

“I’m telling,” she cried just as she passed Loki.

The young boy didn’t respond. Y/N ran back through the palace until she found a quiet corner. She sat on the ground, tears coming at full speed. Not too long after, Frigga rounded the corner. Seeing the young girl crying, she crouched low.

“What’s wrong child?” she cooed.
Y/N glanced up. “L-Loki tricked m-m-me.”
“How’s that darling?”
“H-H-He had a goose chase me,” she cried, “He said it was a surprise. Wh-Why does he hate me?”

Frigga offered a gentle smile. She sat next to the young girl and wrapped an arm around her. She placed a gentle kiss on her head. What neither knew was that the young Loki was nearby.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, “I think that’s just his way of letting you know he likes you.”
“What?”
“My son hasn’t always been the best at showing affection,” she told her, “The Allfather knows he needs to work on that. I think he was trying to share what he thought was amusing with you.”
“B-But it wasn’t.”
Frigga smirked. “I know. Just give him a chance, darling. He may just get better at showing you his feelings.”
“Only if he never makes another goose again!”

The queen smiled before continuing to stroke the girl’s hair. Loki lowered his eyes as he thought about what he had heard.

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A Explosive Final Blow

Context: Slightly Steampunk twist on the usual D&D world. The party is facing off against a skeletal Priest in the middle of a castle of a town that’s been taken over by ice and Blights. The fight is not going well, as the boss just downed our Cleric and Bard/Rogue. My Dragonborn Ranger has had some dynamite sticks and hadn’t yet had a good opportunity to use them. What follows was also not a good opportunity, but it’s what happened(slightly condensed).

Me, OOC, after being asked what I’m doing: OK, I already know I’m gonna get screamed at for this, but if someone’s Unconscious and takes damage, all that does is make them fail one of their Death Saving throws, right?

DM, knowing what I have and knowing what I’m thinking: I mean, yeah, but… If you’re thinking what I think you are, there’s gonna be some other penalties…

Me, considering amidst other discussion: Ok…. I take two sticks of dynamite, light them, and throw them at the feet of the big bone guy. But, like, on the other side of him from {our Cleric and Bard/Rogue}.

DM: Ok, roll a couple Dex Checks to throw them…

Me: (Rolls) Oh. Shit, that’s a nat 1. (Rolls Again) And another nat 1.

Entire Party, including DM to a certain extent: (Loses Their Shit)

Long story short, the Cleric was saved due to some Divine Intervention from her deity, but the Bard Rogue lost both legs up to over halfway up the thigh and an eye.

Plus side, we got back home and after a month’s rest(wherein my Ranger promptly vanished into the surrounding city due to yet another heap of guilt), and the Bard/Rogue got a pair of cybernetic legs and an eye, so overall, we came out with a profit…

anonymous asked:

fuck please write that fic of mercy talking in her sleep that would be amazing! but you gotta have pharah's reactions from the first time it happens all the wtfs, to the times where it's happened so often she's just 'sure babe' so used to it "this is MY yoghurt satan" 'you tell him'

okay i did it. inspired by you, anon, and this post



Fareeha cracked an eye open in the darkness, unsure of what had woken her up.

She felt a pressure on her back, and quickly realized Angela had curled up around her from the side. This new arrangement toed the line between comfortable spooning and sardine impersonation.

“Mmm,” Angela mumbled. “You have a sexy butt.”

She was awake? “There are probably better times to tell me that, but I’m glad you like it,” Fareeha said.

No response.

Fareeha stifled a laugh. Angela must have fallen asleep again.

Fareeha shuffled a bit and got comfortable—she was nearly asleep again when Angela muttered, “I’ll give you healing if you give me better chocolate.”

Was she…? “You’re awake?” Fareeha asked.

No response.

Angela clutched Fareeha tighter. “My pants are telling me lies,” she said urgently.

Fareeha blinked, mildly concerned, but mostly confused. Angela had never talked in her sleep before. “You’re not wearing pants, honey,” Fareeha said.

Seemingly mollified, Angela loosened her grip on Fareeha, mumbling softly in what sounded vaguely German. Her concluding sentence was the sole one in English: “Pants are an illusion, and so is death.”

That was when Fareeha started to find this all very amusing. She managed to contain her laughter in her pillow.

Angela was quiet for a moment, and then stated, suddenly, “That’s my yogurt, Satan.”

Fareeha laughed, now unable to contain her amusement if she tried. “You tell him, babe,” she said. After hearing rustling from Angela’s side, Fareeha tried to quiet down.

“What’s going on?” Angela asked, sounding much more like her usual conscious self, and Fareeha winced. Angela had always been a light sleeper.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Fareeha said, turning to face Angela. “You… do you know you were talking in your sleep?”

“What?” Angela looked bewildered. “I had no idea.”

“It was pretty funny, actually.”

“Oh, god. What did I say?”

Grinning, Fareeha pulled Angela close, and then, in a decent impersonation of her accent, said, “You have a sexy butt.”

“Noo,” Angela groaned. “I didn’t say that.”

“You did,” Fareeha said, laughing, and Angela hid her face in the pillow. “No need to be so embarrassed. I mean, you’ve said dirtier things to me while awake—“

Fareeha.”

“It also looks like Satan tried to steal your yogurt.”

“That bitch,” Angela said incredulously, smiling at her girlfriend who had already dissolved into laughter.

“I’ll fight him for you,” Fareeha said.

“Oh, lord. Please don’t. I can only imagine the injuries you’d get from that.”

“The yogurt thief must be brought to justice.”

Angela just laughed, tucking her head under Fareeha’s arm. “I admire your dedication.”

“Justice never sleeps,” Fareeha said.

“Yeah, well,” Angela hummed, yawning, “Mercy does.”

Fareeha breathed out a laugh. “Good night.”

“Love you,” Angela murmured before she fell asleep.

Not ten minutes later, Angela stated clearly:

“Hot ham water.”

It was going to be a long night.

So I thought to myself: but why does he get a new jacket? And then this happened.  But one possibility of many.  I blame @acrobat-elle for this.  Starts pre-new-jacket.


Stepping quietly across the living room floor, Killian peers out the nearest window.  It’s still the middle of February, and as he’s gathered, winter never seems to end in this realm, as surely as summer persists in Neverland.  He gives the fire a stir before he rests against the windowsill, the divots in the delicately carved wood sure to press a pattern into his flesh.  But there’s something about the quiet, the illusion of total solitude, the complete and utter darkness, that’s remarkably comforting. So he stays, and presses the palm of his hand against the glass, where the wind and the biting cold have begun to draw sharp, frozen figures.

“Your hand’s gonna freeze to the glass.”

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Someone give Navy an Oscar for that performance

She crash lands DIRECTLY in front of the temple
She wants to join them, no redemption, no questions asked
She claims the other rubies are mean to her, even though they weren’t??
She knows they have the ship after they crashed into her in adventures in light distortion
Steven peridot and lapis hanging from a ruby ship- looking object flying off

AND to top it all off, the rubies aren’t the smartest tool in the shed in the eyes of the crystal gems
They wouldn’t expect her to lie and use her brain

Bonus: those side eyes in hit the diamond tho. She’s a viper I know it 😂😂😂

S.Mendes Imagine

Requested:Yes/No
Song(s):Grave by Thomas Rhett, Obsessed by Dan & Shay, Wanted by Shawn Mendes
Warning(s):Smut
Summary:After their encounter with the paparazzi all Shawn wants to do is make his girl feel loved.

Part One 

The room was dark, but her soft whimpers could be heard and that killed him. He knew she could handle the harsh comments from both the fans and paparazzi, but for some reason tonights events hit her harder. He wasn’t sure if it was the mere fact that they had laid their hands on her. From the moment they had escaped the crowd in the front of the hotel, and were inside their hotel room she had become distant. No longer wanting to be his arms, calming it was too hot to be wrapped up in his arms.

Shawn felt responsible. He knew that it wasn’t his fault, but they were outside waiting for him. They wanted a picture of him in order to make a few bucks. Usually that won’t bug him, he’d even throw out a little pose or two, but tonight all he felt was angry towards them. They had managed to break something so special to him and he didn’t know how he could fix it. He wanted to show her just how much he loved her, how no matter what they said about her didn’t matter because she’s prefect in his eyes and nothing can ever change that.

Sighing, he reached out pulling her closer to his body as she turned to look at him. She could feel the guilt radiating off of him as she opened her mouth ready to protest only to have his lip crash onto hers. The kiss was slow, but filled with so much passion it made her head spin. She never had doubt in her mind that Shawn loved her, and moments like these were moments she lived for. Moments where he’d hold her so tight, that her lungs would struggle to fill with air, when he poured his heart and soul into a kiss that made her head spin. She loved him and she knew he loved her too.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me baby…”

His hands traced the outline of her body, as her breathe caught in her throat. His touch was so gentle yet filled with so much urgency to feeling her skin. His lips trailed kisses from her neck to her shoulders. Moving the strap of her silk top, as he placed open mouth kisses on the new exposed skin. Pulling away, he leaned over turning on the side light as she looked at him. Smiling, he placed a soft peck on her lip. Her eyes shined, as his love for her showed through his actions.

“I love you so much…” She mumbled as he smiled and placed his hands under her shirt. Lifting her shirt over her head, he smiled and placed a soft kiss onto her lips. Detaching their lips, he trailed kisses between the valley of her breast. Her hands flew to his hair as he took her nipple in his mouth. Her back ached from the bed, as he kept messaging the other. He smiled softly at her reached before switching sides, giving each breast the same amount of attention. Praises left her lips, as he worked her.

“Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful..” He stated as he slipped one of his hands under her shorts. He moaned feeling how ready she was him. Her breathe hitched as she pushed her sex closer to his hand. He smirked lightly as he watched he sense before him. Her head was thrown back, her cheeks rosy, as her mouth was opened an a O shape. He smiled as his thumb pressed into her bundle of nerves making her body jerk forward and her thighs and clamp shut making him chuckle.

“Shawn please…” She begged as he smiled an granted her wishes. Slipping her shorts down her legs, he ran a finger down her slit collecting her juices before his lips finally meet where she needed him most. The sign that escaped her lips, cause a smile to form on his lips as he continued his work. With her back arched and her hands on his hair, she quickly came undone with a lord praise of his name.

He was quick to rid himself of his clothes, reaching over her, he jumped slightly as her hand gripped his wrist. He frowned as she shook her head, placing her lips on his in a needy kiss. She needed to feel him, all of him. “I’m on the pill..” She breathed out as he nodded his head and teased her entrance with his tip.

They both let out a sigh as he finally entered her, the air was heavy but filled with so much emotion as he slowly worked them both to their release. He was gentle as he worked with a rhythm. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, as her whimpers were heard.It wasn’t long before she was coming undone before him, and he followed shortly after. Laying down besides her he took her into his arms as she smiled placing a soft kiss onto his chest.

“I love you so much and I never ever want to see you down over something that was my fault..” He hummed as she sighed.

“But it wasn’t your fault Shawn, you didn’t make them act that why..”

“But my jo-“

“But nothing, just lay here with me and lets enjoy this moment.”

If I Believe | one

Summary: Following the events of Song of Themyscira, will Diana, Y/N, and James be able to work together to do what is right for humanity? || sequel series

Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Amazon!Reader

Word Count: 1059

Warnings: Language; mentions of blood/violence

A/N: here it is! this series will be a slow burn just like SoT, so prepare yourselves. s/o to mi amor abril for just being amazing, as always || masterlist


Originally posted by pinkywinky44

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