i really wish i saw your face more on my dash

Closet Softie

Or, How Bucky Barnes Nearly Ruined His Tough-Guy Rep

(On AO3)


The trail mix was gone. 

The nice, expensive trail mix, with twelve kinds of nuts and the big sunflower seeds and dried fruits, the kind Tony only rarely left sitting on the common floors for everyone to get at, was gone. 

Clint had been looking forward to that stuff all morning

All the way through a hellish morning “jog” with Steve, all through Nat handing him his ass on the training mats, all through firing the same batch of misweighted arrows over and over so Tony could take scans and fix the design, he’d been thinking, when this is done I get to go upstairs and hang out on the couch and watch Dog Cops and eat the good trail mix, guilt-free. 

And it was gone.

Clint was gonna shoot somebody.

Just as soon as he figured out who’d taken the trail mix.


kingofmemes posted:

yesterday i saw a sad duck in the park who kept getting picked on by the other ducks so today i brought some trail mix and we had a nice lunch together. also i think he might be the duck who pooped on sam last week. if so, he is officially my new best friend. 

Posted at 3:29 PM, 24379 notes

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Crush

Summary: Everything about Bucky Barnes drives you wild…that’s basically the plot…

Warnings: smut, sexual tension

A/N: I spent today writing my own mini thesaurus, by hand, and I came up with this idea during my breaks.


“Fuck!” Your back slammed down against the thick mat, air shoot out of your lungs.

“If you’re not paying close attention to your enemies you’re going to get yourself killed. What the hell has you so distracted?” Steve stretched a hand out, helping you up.

“N-Nothing.” You huffed, avoiding eye contact with the super soldier in front of you.

That was a lie, a big fat lie. You were completely distracted by the man across the room, the one with the glistening metal arm and the chocolate brown hair. Motherfucking Bucky Barnes. 

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bring me home in a blinding dream

title from ‘castle of glass’ by linkin park. another of those fake dating aus because apparently they’re the source of my life.


She was going to kill Mary Margaret.

It’s one thing being set up on a blind date. Emma had suffered through enough of those; her sister-in-law kindly believes that there’s a soulmate out there for everyone, and the way to find them is through chance encounters. Emma gets plenty of chance encounters. Nothing like being a bail bondswoman to introduce you to a lot of men.

(She had pointed that out to Mary Margaret the day before. Her sister-in-law had frowned, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Yes, you definitely want to spend the rest of your life with a criminal who you caught while wearing four-inch stilettos. No, you’re going out to dinner with a friend of a friend of a friend that I heard was recently single. Tomorrow night. At seven. Be prepared.” She had then kissed Emma on the cheek, pushed her toward the couch, and had left Emma’s apartment without so much as a chipper “bye!”)

It’s quite another thing being stood up on a blind date.

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The Secret (12)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve;

Baekhyun had gathered all of his members in the living room first thing in the morning before anyone left for schedules. They had probably all read the article by now but none of them mentioned it as he knocked on each of their doors and asked them into the main room. He hadn’t exactly planned what to say. Maybe he should have. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so nervous if he had figured out how he wanted to explain this new part of his life to his brothers.

Still here he was, with eight faces staring up at him in anticipation, about to tell them about the new people in his life that he would happily take a bullet for.

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weak || stiles stilinski

summary: reader feels weak and useless around the pack
pairing: younger!reader x stiles stilinski
word count: 950 (sorry it’s kinda short)
notes: this was originally requested by someone on my deleted account (i’m so sorry i forgot who it was!) and it’s been like 2 months since this was requested i’m such a bad person 
listen to: weak - wet


“How’s my little pumpkin doing?” Stiles greeted you at his locker with open arms and a wide smile.

“You’re pumpkin is tired. Very.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you accepted his embrace, rubbing your head on his soft sweater, as you took in his scent of a fresh summer night’s air, leather, and mojito mint. “And I’m not little, I’m almost as tall as you.” You pouted into his chest.

“Yeah, sure you are, I’m 6′1 and you’re… what, 5′5?” He laughed as he placed his chin on top of your head.

“Whatever…” Clearly annoyed, you shrugged yourself out of his hold and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Scott and Kira.

“Dude, you better not forget about tonight.” Scott looked at Stiles with knowing eyes.

“Wha- Scott. Obviously I won’t.”

“Wait, what’s tonight?” Interrupting their conversation, you looked up at all three of them with eager eyes.

“Uh? What’s tonight? N-nothing’s tonight…? (Y/N), what are you talking about.” Stiles exchanged nervous glances with Scott and Kira.

“Stiles, Scott literally just told you to not forget about tonight. Is there something you guys aren’t telling me?” You started to get suspicious. And annoyed. And slightly mad. Stiles just started senior year, and you?

Well, you just started sophomore year. The two year gap between you didn’t seem to bother Stiles, but it definitely bothered you. A lot more than anyone could know.

Whenever the pack would “playfully” tease you about your age difference, you laughed and pretended to take it lightly. But you could feel it deep in your chest. You feel weird; awkward, to be 16 years old and dating someone who’s 18. It just didn’t feel right. Of course, you never really took any of those feelings to heart, because you just loved Stiles too damn much. You cared for him and cherished him like no one has ever before, and knowing how much it would hurt him to see how you really felt about being teased, you kept your emotions hidden.

“Well, I mean, I, uh-” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“We’re really sorry (Y/N), it’s just that, you’re, uh, you’re not… wait, let me phrase that differently. We’re going to find the Dread Doctors’ lair and we really don’t want anyone getting hurt. Especially you.” Kira smiled softly and placed her hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. You sighed unhappily, and rubbed your jaw with your hand.

“What is it, am I- am I too weak? I’m apparently so much younger than you guys, that I can’t even take care of myself. I’m just a pathetic teenage girl who doesn’t know anything about the supernatural and I’m just going to slow you down, is that it?!” you voice rose with every speaking word and Kira flinched.

“What? No, it’s not-”

“Ugh!!“ You yelled out, frustratedly gripping your hair. Stiles, Scott, and Kira were taken aback, and everyone else walking in the halls stopped what they were doing and looked at you weirdly. Letting out a deep breath, you rubbed your hands over your face and ran to the parking lot, where Stiles’ jeep would be, a pool of tears piling up on your cheeks.

“(Y/N)!” Stiles ran after you, and you deeply wished that you lived closer to the school so he didn’t have to drive you here everyday.

Stopping at his car, you faced the window and looked inside it. On the jeep’s dash, you saw a picture Stiles took of you when you both went star-gazing with Malia and Lydia. A shaky sigh left your lips as you wiped away your tears with your sleeves.

“(Y/N), what’s the matter with you?” Stiles turned you around by your wrist and placed his hands on either side of your face.

Knowing that you would ball your eyes out if you started talking, you bit the inside of your cheek and just frantically shook your head.

“(Y/N), no, no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry; if you cry then I’m gonna cry, (Y/N)…” Stiles leaned forward and rubbed his nose affectionately with yours. Finally plucking up the courage, you began talking.

“Stiles, i-it’s just that I feel so weak sometimes. When you guys all start making fun of me ‘cause of my age, or holding me back from trying to help; I just hate that feeling, Stiles. I hate it so much. I want to be useful, I want to do something to help. I’m not a werewolf or kitsune or banshee; I’m human. I can’t do any of the things they can, o-or even fight for myself. It’s like I constantly feel like someone’s protecting me, and I feel grateful for that, I honestly do, but sometimes I just want to be able to do something on my own, you know? Stiles, I’m sorry–“

You were cut off as Stiles grabbed you by your shoulders and engulfed you in a giant embrace. A sudden wave of tranquility washed away the anxiety and pain, and you were left a molten mess in his arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles’ voice cracked, as a stray tear slipped loose from your eyes.

“Because.”

“Because what, (Y/N)?”

Pulling out of his embrace, you wiped the tears off his face with your sleeve, and prepared to say what you’ve been meaning to say for the longest time. You took in a deep breath and opened your mouth.

“Because I love you.”

Opportunities

Anon: College Klance, where Keith’s sick but he has a really important test in one of his classes so he goes to class anyway. Keith and Lance happen to have that class together, and normally Lance just tries to ignore the other boy, but the Keith waddles in wearing a big coat, scarf and a wool beanie. It’s like 80 degrees out, so he knows somethings off. Bonus: For Keith being light headed and having to be carried back to his dorm room. (PS Thank you for writing awesome fics)

A/N: So I heard you guys liked pining Lance. Cashing in the bonus, someone should draw Keith in winter gear with the scarf covering his face up to his bright-red nose.


Lance hadn’t noticed the boy before. He hadn’t noticed that mullet hair, or that red jacket, or that little glance they shared when the boy would walk in a minute before class started-

Okay, maybe he’d noticed. But that’s just because the guy sat in front of him in the lecture hall! How could he not look at the way his stupid hair turned up at the ends or the stupid way he twirled his stupid pencil with his stupid nice fingers-

Okay. Maybe he’d done more than notice. Maybe he’d put in some extra effort into trying to see the boy’s name on his test. Maybe he’d lost track of class while watching the boy lazily doodle on his notes. Maybe he’d seen ‘Keith Kogane’ on the list of packages at the front desk of his dorm hall and almost choked. Just maybe, though. Probably not. Definitely not.

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Another Look Around (Gaston x Reader)

Originally posted by reyskyvalker

Word Count: 2,097

Warnings: None

    Early mornings in your small village of Villeneuve were something of a dream. The soft lavender skies were yawning off the dawn and blossoming into day, a thin, swirling mist drifted above the rooftops and over the distant hills, setting the entire scenery in a hazy, enchanted state. The smell of fresh bread being baked and the aroma of the floral shops wound through the cool air like an intoxicating perfume.

    The premature breeze on your face and the fresh, dewy air was enough to make you beam despite the morning hours. You closed the front door carefully behind you, not wanting to wake your sleeping family and slipped down the steps and through the small gardens that flourished in front of the house.

    The clicking of your boots on the cobblestone was a solitary noise. One of the few other sounds present were the quiet songs of the rising birds, and the creaking of the wooden blacksmith’s sign that hung suspended over his door. It was so simple and quiet and serene that it was easy to imagine that the town was merely frozen in time rather than emerging from the night hours.

    Any time now, you thought to yourself as you took up your usual vantage near the square. Sure enough, it wasn’t more than a minute before the first cheery “bonjour!” rang through the air.

    You squealed a bit as a pair of arms were thrown around your shoulders from behind, and a familiar voice near your ear said, “Guess who?” You laughed and responded jokingly, “Hmm. Prince Charming.” The person gave a light, musical giggle and untangled herself from you to say, “Sorry, no such luck. Guess you’ll have to make due with me for now.” You rolled your eyes and turned to face her. “Oh, how dreadful.”

    Belle smiled widely and embraced you properly. When she pulled back you glimpsed an unfamiliar binding peaking out of the folds of her dress. “New book?” You asked eagerly, linking your arm through hers. Belle’s eyes lit up and she nodded, pulling the novel out of her pocket and holding it out to you as you began to wade through the steadily filling streets. “I found it in the cellar last night,” she explained as you gazed at the worn brown cover lovingly. “The Count of Monte Cristo,” you read.

    The pair of you paused to purchase a few items from Monsieur Jean, then resumed your walk. “I haven’t read it yet,” Belle said, dodging a group of laughing children as they danced past. “But from what I saw when I glanced through it, it seems exciting. Adventure and revenge and romance…”

    “Sounds like the perfect package.”

    “That’s what I thought. But I’m not finished with Romeo and Juliet yet, so you can read it first.”

    You squeezed her arm and grinned broadly. “Thanks.”

    Passing through the crowded rows of vendors every morning was uncomfortable when your family had first moved to Villeneuve. You and Belle had taken instantly to one another, despite the fact that she was considered by the townspeople to be a “funny girl”. It wasn’t long before you became guilty by association and earned yourself the same title. You were the only bookworms in town, the only people who ever thought of leaving for a different life, the only people who were able to disappear into their imaginations to escape the mundane. However at this point, you were both used to it. You learned to ignore the staring eyes and disapproving glances.

    After making a few more stops and greeting several of the shopkeepers good morning, you and Belle had managed to make a full circle around the square. You were just about to join Belle for a late breakfast when you were stopped by a loud, deep voice calling your name from across the street.

    You flinched, closing your eyes and groaning, “Oh no.” Belle snickered, her eyes fixed on the man who’d called to you. “Well,” she said hastily. “I’ll be at the house. Good luck, (Y/N)!”

    Belle gave you a smart smile, then dashed from your side and made her way quickly down the street towards her home.

    “Thanks a lot,” you muttered, shaking your head at your best friend as she disappeared from view. Steeling yourself, you slowly turned to face the man swaggering towards you, his red coat nearly blinding you in the bright sunlight.

    “Bonjour, Gaston,” you greeted politely.

    Gaston flashed a dashing white smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly as he took your hand and placed a kiss to the skin. “Good morning, Mademoiselle,” he returned, his voice simultaneously rough and silky.

    “Mademoiselle? Really, Gaston, have we not know each other long enough for you to remember my name?” You teased lightly, beginning to walk slowly towards Belle’s. “On the contrary, (Y/N), yours is a name I could never forget,” Gaston assured you, following instantly. You resisted the temptation to roll your eyes.

    Gaston was easily the most popular figure in the village, as well as the handsomest. The only problem was that he knew it, and rarely did he try to conceal that fact. When he walked by, women would melt like snow on a summer day, and men would stare after him in envy. A former war captain, Gaston was most certainly an impressive sight. His chest was broad and strong, his skin tanned, his arms and legs thick with lean muscle, and his hair was dark and shiny. His face could’ve been carved from enchanted stone, his jaw and cheekbones sharp enough to cut, dusted with dark stubble. His lips were nearly always smirking, and his eyes were a smoldering brown. Ever the romantic, the man could make a horse swoon without lifting a finger. There was no denying that he was truly something.

    “You’re flattering me, Gaston,” you replied, brushing your fingers along the iron fence that ran the length of the street. “It’s too early for that.”

    “Well, in that case perhaps I should drop by later this evening.”

    You winced inwardly, realizing that you’d practically walked right into that one. You halted abruptly, causing Gaston - who had been trailing particularly close - to bump into you. You turned to him with a slightly annoyed expression, to which he merely smiled apologetically. You pursed your lips, trying to find a kind way to refuse his offer. In the end all that came out was “Um…not this evening.”

    The shaky and terribly unconvincing way in which you’d spoken made even you cringe. Unlike Belle, you didn’t despise Gaston, and sometimes even enjoyed his company. However his constant attempts at wooing were a bit off-putting at times, and soon they began to blend together into one big blur of flowers and romantic gestures. It was because of this that you declined his invitation, yet the last thing that you wished to be was rude or insensitive…or in this case, awkward.

     There was a falter in Gaston’s smile as he asked, “You have other engagements?” You bit your lip debating whether lie and tell him that you had plans, or to tell the truth and admit that you simply weren’t in the mood for company. You wound up hesitating too long, causing an ungraceful “Yes” to tumble through your lips.

    You wheeled around quickly so that Gaston couldn’t see you scrunch your face in frustration. You were usually able to handle these situations with relative ease, but for some reason, today was different.

  Gaston continued to follow you as you set off once again towards Belle’s, clearly seeing straight through your terrible lies. This time when he spoke, his voice was suave, but earnest.

  “Oh, (Y/N), how long must you keep this up?” he said, practically walking on top of you, his chest to your shoulder, somehow managing not to trip either of you. “It’s been three months and talking to you is practically like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall.”

  You gave a short, breathy laugh and countered, “It’s been four years, Gaston. Ever since we met I couldn’t go five steps without either you or LeFou hanging over my shoulder. Surely even you can see how that might get a bit old after a while?”

  Gaston didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he stopped where he was, and you had made it to the gate of Belle’s house by the time he pursued you again. You slipped through the iron fence and closed it just as Gaston arrived, planting his hands on either side of where yours rested on the gate. “Very well then, perhaps my attempts have been a bit excessive over the years –”

  “A bit.”

  “- but answer me one thing, (Y/N) …if not me then who?”

  You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Gaston’s expression was imploring and sympathetic. Whether or not it was sincere, you couldn’t tell. You swallowed, unable to respond.  

  “What about after your father and mother die?” Gaston went on, slowly sliding his hands to cover yours. “And it’s just you and the responsibilities that you won’t be able to fulfill without a husband at your side. You know what happens to spinsters in this town once they’re left on their own…” He leaned forward over the fence. “…they wind up on the streets, begging for food and spare coins from complete strangers until the day that they die sad, lonely deaths…”

  Your heartbeat was accelerating. If you had the will, you would’ve informed Gaston that coming upon a single stranger in Villeneuve was immensely rare, and that you obviously wouldn’t be alone, thanks to your friendship with Belle. But the words simply wouldn’t leave your throat.

  By this point, you and Gaston were practically touching noses. Your cheeks were now the color of his crimson coat, and your gaze was trapped in his intense brown eyes like flies trapped in honey.

  “I wouldn’t be able to live knowing such a fate had befallen you,” he whispered.

  You swallowed thickly. “Are you implying that I’ll never find another man besides you?” you practically squeaked. Gaston smiled sympathetically. “Of course not. Only that time won’t wait for you.”

  “So you think I simply haven’t met the right man?”

  “Well -”

  “Because it’s a small village, Gaston. I’ve met them all. So, I suppose that means that my future husband won’t be a resident of these parts.”

  With that, you gathered enough willpower to pull your wrists from his grasp and back away towards the front door. Gaston gave what sounded like an indignant sigh. “Well, maybe you just need to take another look around!” he said, easily swinging himself over the fence and following you to the steps.

    You turned back around once you reached the top, seeing Gaston perched beneath you, one leg mounted on the second step, staring up at you. You raised your eyebrows.

  “Another look around?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Preferably in your general direction, I suppose.”

  A dazzling smirk slid across his lips.

  You laughed out loud, turning your back and grasping the knob of the door. Before you could open it however, Gaston tread up the steps two at a time, throwing one hand against the door to prevent you from escaping him, leaving you trapped between the pane and his body.

  “Gaston!” you practically whined. He looked pleased with himself, but stealthily masked it. “Please, (Y/N),” he said quickly, giving you a desperate smile. “Just one more chance. That’s all I’m asking of you. And if in the end your feelings are unchanged, then I will relent to your wishes and leave you be.”

  You were surprised to see his eyes suddenly soften, and for the moment, his entire demeanor changed. The cockiness faded to nonexistence, and sincerity bloomed in its place, so raw and real that you felt butterflies going haywire in your stomach. Your chest was brushing his, the difference in your heights was laughable, yet somehow he seemed so, so, close…

  In one swift move, you managed to remove his arm from the door, yank it open, and slide inside. But before closing it, you hastily informed, “It wouldn’t be completely pointless for you to look for me at the tavern tonight.”

  Then before the heat in your face became too evident, you closed the door and practically collapsed against it, your heart pounding and an extremely stupid grin on your lips. It certainly didn’t help when you heard Gaston’s deep, husky laughter ringing just on the other side of the wood.

  Belle peered quizzically at you from the kitchen for a few seconds, then she frowned as she asked, “What on earth happened to you?”

Promise? // Lee Mark

-

the prompt(s): 1) Could I request a scenario for Mark like the Jungkook one you did? Except he doesn’t have to be King yet, he and the reader are just kind of sneaking around the castle and being all cute and in love then they get cAUGHT and I’m sorry this is so long!! 2) Could you write some mark Lee fluff?? Just some cute, first love type of thing?

words: 2134

category: fluff

author note: ah, mork. my precious, smol, overworked son. may he get the rest he truly deserves~ also, this is for two different requests since they both fit the same genre. please enjoy!

- destinee

Originally posted by monoka

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Flood my Mornings: Twentieth of October

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Stones (Jamie struggles with what separation from Jenny and his loved ones really entails.)

Anon requested: Claire takes Jamie to the North End in Boston for Italian food.


October 20, 1950

It was not the first time I had noticed that Jamie’s raised eyebrow was quite dashing, no matter how scornfully-raised. “And you’re certain this is what ye want for your birthday, lass?”

“Positive! Dig in, darling!”

The restaurant was dimly lit, but even in the candlelight, I could see that he was staring at the plate of spaghetti bolognese as though it were a sleeping wolverine. 

He poked the fragrant mass with his fork. “It just looks so—unwieldy.”

“I have full faith in your ability to wield your dinner,” I laughed, sipping my wine before picking up my fork again. 

Jamie watched me carefully, studying, then slowly imitated my motions of twirling the pasta around the fork using the bowl of the spoon as an anchor. I tried my best to stifle giggles into my wine glass as the load slipped off his tines halfway to his mouth not once, but twice. He fixed me with a gimlet eye. “If ye wished your present to be me making a fool of myself, I could think of half a dozen other more enjoyable—” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I snickered, “I’m not laughing, I promise.” I tightened my lips and looked angelically over at him. “Come on, once more?” 

He sighed, twirled once more, and managed to get the bite into his mouth. 

“So…? What do you think?” I asked eagerly. 

“But it’s good!” he said through his mouthful, sounding highly surprised. “A bit slippery, but the sauce is quite nice.” He took a swallow of wine and sat, considering. “Aye, that’s lovely. How d’ye say it? Spag—?” 

“Spagh-EH-tti,” I said, in my best exaggerated Italian accent, digging in to my own plate. “I’m so glad you like it! I haven’t had much Italian food before, either, but this is one of Tom and Marian’s favorite joints. You’ll have to have lasagne next time! Definitely less effort required!”

He managed another bite, losing only one noodle on the journey. “Do they have any wee bibs like the ones we have for Brianna? Tasty as it is, I dinna ken how I should be able to finish the serving wi’out splattering myself filthy.” 

In the end, he settled for a napkin tucked into his collar, and good thing, too, for otherwise his white shirt would have taken two direct hits before the meal was out.

It was a lovely evening, with good food, good wine, and a gorgeous trio of singers serenading the diners from the far corner.  

As the raucous Funiculì Funiculà was replaced by the sweet, sad strains of Musetta’s Waltz over our coffee and tiramisu (which Jamie did not enjoy— “It’s just wet cake!”), Jamie took my hand and squeezed it, his eyes crinkling with happiness. “Happy Birthday, Sassenach.”

“Thirty-two,” I said, a bit ruefully. “I think that means I’m firmly out of the spring chicken years, don’t you?”

“Hey, now, I’ll have no such talk,” he chided gently. “Every year we have together will be the best year—no matter how old we grow.”

I felt my face grow flush with feeling and in seeing the fervor in his expression. “That’s a good way to think of it. Think we’ll still be this happy when I’m seventy-two?” 

“Oh, aye, I’ll stake my life on it. I canna wait to see ye wi’ grey hairs. You’ll be the Sexiest grannie ever seen.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I laughed. “But thank you.” 

He stood halfway to lean across the table and kiss my hand. “I’m verra, verra glad ye were born, mo chridhe,” he murmured.  

My throat felt thick. “I’m glad you were born, too.” 

“Aye, but it’s no’ yet my day for it,” he grinned. As he sat back in his seat, he suddenly looked sharply up at me. “I didna think on it before, but this day is significant for another reason, forbye.”

“Oh? What reason is that?” 

“'Tis five years to the day since ye first told me the truth….” he said, eyes wide and wondering. “….about where ye truly came from, aye?”

I gasped, remembering. 

“Do you know when I was born?” I had hissed, voice tremulous, my hair wild and my eyes staring. “On the twentieth of October, in the Year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and eighteen.”

“Do you hear me?” I demanded, for he was blinking at me unmoving, as though paying no attention to a word I said. “I said nineteen eighteen! Nearly two hundred years from now! Do you hear?” 

I had been shouting, but he’d nodded slowly. 

“I hear.” 

And then a long time later, many frantic words and tears later, he’d looked down at me and smiled faintly. 

“Happy Birthday, Sassenach.” 

It took me completely by surprise and I’d just stared stupidly at him for a moment. “What?” I’d managed at last. 

“I said, ‘Happy Birthday.’ It’s the twentieth of October today.” 

“That was quite a day, no?” the present-day Jamie said, refilling my coffee cup and scooting the rest of the tiramisu toward me. 

“I was… so scared,” I said, feeling suddenly breathless from the remembered terror.

“Christ, me too,” he agreed with a shudder. “When I saw ye there on the platform in Cranesmuir—To think they might have burned ye, if I hadna arrived in ti—”

“No, no,” I cut in, “not then. I mean, I was terrified during the trial, of course…but it was there in the woods, that I meant. With you.” 

That startled him, and I went on. “I was so frightened to tell you about my past. I was convinced you would think me mad—or even the witch you’d just vowed publicly that I wasn’t.” 

That same faint smile crossed his lips but he said nothing. 

“Tell me truly, Jamie…” I started, my stomach suddenly in knots, dreading the answer. “Did you really believe me… or did you just care for me enough that it was easier for us both that you should pretend to?”

He spoke without hesitation. “No, I believed ye, Sassenach.”

My exhale of relief and my, “But how? Why?” seemed to escape me simultaneously. 

“Because your face betrays ye, mo sorcha—it always has. It’s why Colum and Dougal didna trust ye for a moment. They didna ken what it was ye were hiding, only that something was there ye wouldna tell. And in the time after we were made man and wife,” he reached across the tiny table and laid a warm hand on my cheek, “just as I kent your feelings for me were growing wi’ every passing day, I could see that there was something ye were holding back, still, even from me. It’s why I said ‘secrets, but no’ lies,’ aye?” He lowered his hand to gently hold my chin. “But this day, five years ago, was the first time I saw ye look back into my eyes wi’ nothing held back: no lies AND no secrets…. Your eyes told me that ye spoke true, no matter how unbelievable the truth was. And it slew me, Claire, then slew me again…because I knew I had to let ye go; go back to him.” 

I couldn’t speak, just then, and he sat back in his seat, shaking his head, dazed. “I still canna believe ye chose me; still canna fathom what I felt when I awoke to find ye there in my arms…thought I surely was dreaming.”

I reached for his hand. “I just…couldn’t give you up.”

“And I thank God for it every day.”

“Me too.”

We sat for a time in silence, touching each others’ rings and feeling the warmth of our hands together. 

Jamie was the one that broke the stillness, pulling away with purpose. “Now, as glad as I am that you’re a woman for whom watching a numpty suffer through a plate of Spaghetti is a sufficient birthday present—” he reached down to his feet and withdrew a parcel wrapped in brown paper, “—I did get ye a proper gift as well.”

I grinned and reached for it; a book, surely, from the size and weight. Sure enough, as the paper fell away, I could immediately see the crisp page-edges and the shiny binding that read: Medical Education in the United States: rankings and reviews (1950 ed.)

“Oh, Jamie…” I breathed, opening the cover and flipping through the pages. Harvard. Princeton. Stanford. Osteopathic and Medicine programs of California. Texas. Pennsylvania.  MCAT procedures. Top residencies by specialty. And on and on it went. 

“I ken we’ve been talking a great deal about the new bairn and the hope that we’ll conceive soon; but I didna wish ye to think I’d forgotten your other wish. I’ve been reading up on what it’s like—the requirements and the different options you’ll have. I didna ken there were half so many programs in Massachusetts, let alone the whole country!“ He gave a small shrug. "Perhaps it all goes wi'out saying, but I wanted ye to hear from my lips that I want ye to go to the best medical school ye can, if that’s your wish—even if it’s in—” He hesitated, speaking tentatively. “Hah-wheyyy?

Hawai’i,” I corrected, laughing with happy tears in my eyes.

“Aye, there,” he grinned, “or wherever the best spot for ye may be. Whither thou goest, I will go.” 

“Thank you, darling,” I whispered.

“My only requirement,” he said, suddenly stern, “is that you make it so they have to republish this wee book soon, for there isna a single mention of the possibility of a woman attending. Tis all ‘his’ and ‘him’ and ‘gentlemen in the class of such and such.’ You’ll need to change that, aye?”

I grinned at him and shook his hand playfully. “It’s a bargain.”

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Love And Art.

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

Pairing: Gaston x reader

Titled: ‘Love and Art’ 

Warnings: light angst, Gaston/Luke Evans feels, FLUFF, etc. 

A/N: This was an idea for a mini series! Which I am really excited for all of you to read!! 

Summary: You have triplet older sisters, or usually known as the Bimbettes, Claudette, Paulette, and Laurette, you have an identical twin sister, Odette. Much to the older girl’s disposition, Gaston loves you. Your sisters will do anything to sabotage your true love by any means necessary. 

Tagging: @norrihiddleskittycap  @captainemwinchester @little-red-83@impalaimagining@sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @hobbithorse19@feelmyroarrrr @lefouismylife@redimagines @letowolfie @ciaprincess@speedycatbluebird @haniiix33 @mademoiselle-lani @winchester-writes rexhepierijona


It’s needless to say you never had it easy in life. You were the shadow of your sisters, even your twin sister, who is only older than you by nothing more than a few seconds.  The only person who truly understood you was your father, who tragically passed away a little over a year ago. Unfortunately, your mother was just as bad as your sisters. Which only left you wondering who they could have contracted that from.  

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somebody else // stiles stilinski pt. 3

Summary: Stiles broke her heart and now she can never look at him the same. They remained friends, but she can’t exactly find it in herself to truly forgive Stiles and he doesn’t know how to accept her new relationship with the one person he can’t stand. Overtime, they both eventually got over each other… or have they?

Requested: no, collab with @minhosmeanhoe 

Warning: no, mature language & themes throughout 

Inspired by this song

Masterlist 

As soon as the bell rang Katalina breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t stand to be around Theo any longer and the confusing feelings she had developed for Stiles were messing with her head. One minute he’s starting small talk with her at a party reigniting her feelings for him and the next he’s acting like she doesn’t even matter to him.

She was relieved when she stepped into the library and was immediately engulfed by silence. Knowing that she still hadn’t finished her English paper, she took out her laptop and opened the document. She read over it again trying to think of how to strengthen her argument when her phone went off, causing multiple heads to turn in her direction. Quickly silencing the device, she rolled her eyes when Theo’s name appeared on the screen. Ignoring it, Katalina tried to redirect her focus back on her paper. 

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summer lovin’

word count: 1665


She sat on his bed, legs stretched out, back pressed against the wall, idly skimming some article about some celebrity doing something they shouldn’t have. Shawn sat on the floor beside her strumming together chords and marking things down a spare piece of scrap paper.

It was hot outside, the summer sun beating down on their little town. The stale heat threatened to creep through the window, but the air conditioning was their savior. The cool breeze cascading across the room sent goosebumps up her arms.

Her long legs extended across his mattress and he couldn’t help but look up every few minutes. Her eyes lazily moved across the pages before she looked up at him. She was bored. She looked out the window, to the beautiful summer day outside and wished that it wasn’t so hot.

Then she looked back at him. 

“Shawn,” She said patiently.

He didn’t look up from his work, instead, offering a grunt as he flipped his paper over, trying desperately to find any small space to write down the few words that had just popped into his brain. 

She threw the magazine at his head.

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Ease - Part 12

Genreangst/fluff

Pairingreader/taehyung

Length: 3.0k

SummaryYou and your best friend Taehyung have recently got into the same university in the capital of Seoul. Hoping that this was your year to finally admit your romantic feelings towards your said best friend, uni seems an exciting prospect. But of course, the future never really goes according to plan.

Originally posted by jeonbase

1 ♡ 2 3 4 5 ♡ 6 7 ♡ 8 ♡ 9 ♡ 10 11 ♡ 12 ♡ 13 ♡  

The next few days were trying. Confusion and pain swallowed up your thoughts as you watched Taehyung try his best at being overly happy, smiling widely whenever you caught his eye but his face dropping solemn as soon as he thought you weren’t looking. Jungkook was also doing his hardest to pull you out of the mess of your worries, but you sunk deeper every time you saw Taehyung’s pen stop midsentence in class, his eyes blank as he stared at the desk, or when you brushed his hand slightly with yours when you were walking together, and he’d subtly recoil at your touch. He was fragile, and it only strengthened the urge to pull him close in solace.

No matter how many times you told him that he didn’t have to put on a front, he continued to say that nothing was wrong. But he talked too much, too quickly, and he never quite met you in the eyes when he said he was okay. Instead, he let his pale orange hair shadow his face, bottling up his emotions once more.

“He just doesn’t seem to understand that it’s okay to be upset,” you whined, digging your toes into the carpet and letting your arms flop to your sides in defeat.

You were round the boys’ house, but the only people there were you and Jungkook, as Jin and Namjoon had gone home for the weekend and Taehyung was nowhere to be seen. Sitting on the sofa with only a few lamps to light the room and a film playing in the background, it was the perfect setting for romance. However, once the topic of Taehyung came up, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I really don’t want him to be suppressing how he feels. Tried and tested that one, and I can confirm it doesn’t work. Obviously, I’m not going to force him to talk to me if he doesn’t want to, but I wish he’d stop pretending.”

“You know, you don’t have to be Taehyung’s personal carer,” grumbled Jungkook, helping himself to a third plateful of food from the array of dishes on the coffee table. Although he kept his expression blank, you’d come to recognise the signs of his different emotions. They weren’t obvious, but his ‘pissed off’ signals were a fire in his eyes, the slight straightening in his back, and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, all of which he was showing at that moment.

Stretching out your foot to the other end of the sofa where he sat, you prodded him with your toe to get him to look at you. “Hey,” you said softly. “I’m sorry for talking about Tae. I know you wanted to have a chilled night.”

As you spoke, your phone buzzed in your pocket as someone tried to ring you. Reading the caller ID and seeing Taehyung’s name, you looked up at Jungkook to check his reaction. He knew who was calling, as Hoseok and Yoongi were both working, and you didn’t have anyone else who would be checking up on you.

Jungkook’s eyes flashed with annoyance, his deep brown irises seeming to grow darker. Not wanting him to get more worked up, you let your phone buzz until it ran out of time and cancelled the call. However, just as you were about to put your phone away, Taehyung tried again and your phone went off once more.

Knowing that something was up, you decided to answer and deal with Jungkook afterwards. “Yeah, I’m here,” you said as a way of greeting. “Everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said bluntly. There wasn’t any urgency behind his voice, but it was the most pensive you’d heard him for a while. Gone was the usual happy façade, and at last, he seemed to have given in.

Jungkook was staring at you fixatedly, and you tore your gaze away, as if looking at him for too long would agitate him further. “Um, sure,” you stammered, cradling your phone to your ear. “Uh… can we talk later? I’m busy at the moment.”

Okay. Please call me soon, Y/N.”

“I will, I promise.”

After hanging up, you peered at Jungkook, expecting to see him looking more relaxed after you’d rejected Taehyung’s offer, but instead, his neck was red and he looked ready to cry.

“Guk?” you said worriedly. When he didn’t respond, you scooted up the sofa so you could hook your arms around his shoulders in comfort. However, he remained unflinching and didn’t acknowledge your touch, with his face remaining passive and unreadable while his eyes filled up with tears.

He took a large sniff before turning to you, and finally you could see the hurt and anger under the blank mask he wore. “I can’t deal with it anymore,” he stated flatly, without a trace of warmth in his tone. “If you want to make this work, then you’ve got to stop whatever you’ve got with Taehyung. I really like you, Y/N, and I want you to look at me. Not Taehyung. I need all of you.”

The hopes of a romantic atmosphere were dashed as you felt Jungkook’s possessiveness seep into your skin, but his words wriggled in your chest as they hit home. Jungkook didn’t deserve your wavering emotions, but at the same time, you knew you were unable to give him your full attention. “Jungkook,” you swallowed, watching him pull at his bottom lip with his teeth. “I need more time. To get over him.”

“How much more time?” he questioned, his voice growing louder. “It’s getting ridiculous! You need to stop being selfish, because I’m done with it. Make up your mind, Y/N. You either want me or Taehyung, and you can’t have both. I’m tired.”

“I want to make things work with you! But to do that, I need to sort out my own problems first. I can’t just drop everything and live happily ever after. It was never going to be that easy, and I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

“Knew?” he spluttered, pushing you away roughly and standing up. Veins stood out on his arms as he fumed, breathing heavily as he held in the full force of his anger. “I knew that I would be helping you, but I didn’t count on being your backup plan. You’re being completely deluded – all you need to do is pick a side. Shouldn’t be that hard, even for you.” Without another work, he stalked out of the room, leaving you on the verge of tears.

There weren’t even words to describe the remorse and despair you felt after Jungkook had abruptly departed. Stunned into silence, you stared at the dishes of food left on the side, growing cold as they lay there neglected. What should you do now?

In your heart of hearts, there was only one real option. There was no way that Jungkook would be happy until you’d sorted something out, and nor would you. Although it killed you to hurt one of them, you had no choice; you got yourself into this mess, so you couldn’t rely on Jungkook to pull you out.

You rang Taehyung. However, as soon as you heard his deep voice on the other end of the line, your throat cracked and hot tears rolled down your face. “Tae,” you mumbled, your voice choked up. “I need to see you.”

Taehyung didn’t hesitate as he heard your distressed demand, not bothering to question why you were suddenly upset. “Meet me at the cupcake shop in 15 minutes,” he ordered. “It’s okay, whatever it is. We can talk it through. See you then, Y/N.”


The last thing you wanted was for Hoseok and Yoongi to observe what was about to happen, especially as they knew so much about Taehyung without ever meeting him. You texted Yoongi on the way to the shop, hoping that he’d check his phone as he worked.

You [4:45]
having a chat with taehyung in cupcake corner. Please pretend you have no idea who I am!!!

Taehyung had hung up the phone so quickly that you didn’t get the chance to argue the choice of location, and as he still had no idea about the dance competition, you could imagine how awkward introductions to your new friends would be. You were there to sort things out, not create more problems.

Yoongi [4:49]
sorry, who is this?
p.s. I’ll have a coconut and mango cake ready


To your displeasure, Taehyung was seated at one of the tables closest to the counter, right under the nose of the Hoseok and Yoongi; the perfect distance for eavesdropping. However, you looked at Yoongi straight in the eye as you walked up to pay, daring him to mention something and give the game away. Keeping to his word, he calmly handed you the change and pulled out a readymade cupcake as promised.

“What’s happened?” Taehyung asked concernedly, his eyes filled with worry as you sat down with a defeated thump. “You’re going to get wrinkles when you frown like that.”

He was trying to lighten the mood, but you ignored him. “Jungkook said some things, and I’m realising that I’ve been in the wrong the whole time,” you confessed.

“By the looks of things, I don’t think he said anything.”

You stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’ve been friends with you for a while now. You have that look on your face, like someone just died. Your eyes are red and considering you were fine one minute and upset the next tells me that Jungkook was involved.” He took a big drag of his coffee, but didn’t take his eyes off you as you blinked furiously, trying to hold back any more tears that were threatening to escape. “What did he do?” he questioned, reaching across the table to rub your arm soothingly.

Taking a wobbly breath, you glanced round to check if Hoseok or Yoongi were listening. Hoseok was on the other side of the room, preoccupied with an electric whisk that didn’t seem to be working, but Yoongi, on the other hand, stood nearby cleaning the counter. Although he had his head down, he kept his body rotated in such a way that he could snoop in on the gossip.

Taehyung pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as you began recalling the earlier events in hushed tones, so Yoongi couldn’t hear. “He got annoyed because I’ve been messing with his emotions,” you blurted. “I knew I shouldn’t take advantage of his generosity, but I did and it was a stupid mistake to make.” You launched into detail about what happened when Taehyung had rung your phone, but your friend wasn’t having any of it, and jumped straight to the point.

“What did he say to you?” he interrupted, growing more and more serious as you told the story, with his eyes growing hazy and his grip on your arm becoming firm.

“Not much.”

“Y/N…”

“I swear, it was nothing. He was right, anyway. I am deluded and I am selfish, but I guess I hadn’t really thought about it too much. I didn’t want to admit to myself-”

“He said what?” Taehyung’s voice was quiet, but the sort of quiet that comes from extreme anger. A bad sign. “Jungkook was saying that to you?”

“Yeah, but-”

“He called you deluded?” As he raised his voice, you became aware of Yoongi standing stock still at the counter, his ears pricked up and alert at your conversation. “No wonder you got upset. Even if you made a mistake, he has no right to insult you. What an idiot!”

Taking a quick peek out of the corner of your eye, you could see Yoongi trembling with a silent rage, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he struggled to keep in his temper. Anything that hurt his friends wound him up immensely, but you sent him mental pleads to stay mute and not say a word.

Looking back at Taehyung, you noticed that he too was bottling up his true frustration as he faintly rocked back and forth in his chair, holding back an outburst of anger.

“Tae, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, please. I just needed to see you to talk about something else. Well, it’s sort of related to that. But you wanted to tell me something first. That’s why you rang?” You gave Taehyung’s hand a squeeze in reassurance, and he obeyed your request and sat back in reluctance.

“Well,” he sighed, “I don’t think my matter is important anymore. What did you want to say?”

“No, you go,” you demanded.

“Seriously, I think you should. I promise, it can wait.”

Nodding in surrender, you took Taehyung’s hand and led him outside the shop, past the inquisitive looks from Hoseok and Yoongi and into the warm haze of the late afternoon, just so the two boys couldn’t hear your next words. Taehyung looked confused, but you held up his hands in front of him and focused on the writing of his shirt. The words were in English, and you noticed a grammatical error of the sentence, but you didn’t point it out. Instead, you fixated on the letters as you planned what to say next very carefully.

“We shouldn’t be meeting like this anymore,” you stated, your mouth struggling to get around each syllable, as if subconsciously your brain was telling you to stop talking. But you had to say it. You can’t have both. “We need to keep our distance. Jungkook gets jealous, and it’s not his fault. I feel- felt, exactly the same, and it’s one of the worst feelings in the world. I can’t put him through that, especially when he’s tried so hard to be kind and loving. It’s the least I can give him. Do you understand?”

You should’ve stayed fixated on the lettering of the shirt, because as soon as your gaze trailed up to Taehyung’s soft eyes and his quivering lower lip, you felt as if you’d just slapped him. There was a silence following your words, which was only filled by the sounds of the city and the biting whistle of the wind that tossed around Taehyung’s hair. Your clothes billowed around you and you could feel your cheeks turning pink from the chill, but Taehyung remained motionless.

“So, that’s it?” he said finally, a with a small hint of hesitation. “You’re going to stop talking to me because your boyfriend gets uptight?”

“No, I’m doing this to get over you. I’ve spent way too long having false hopes.”

All you need to do is pick a side.

“You can’t end our friendship!” he exclaimed, letting out huffy laughter incredulously.

“We need some time apart,” you corrected. There was a sharp stabbing in your chest, but you dismissed it. I need all of you. “You ignored my feelings about you, even though I spilled my one biggest secret that left me completely vulnerable to you. But all you did was push it aside, and it killed me, Tae. So, I’m being selfish by allowing for someone to love me. If keeping my distance from you lets me do that, then I’ve got to try.” Your last sentence came out in a sob, the hurt driving through your body in an unstoppable wave.

Taehyung was dumbfounded, but the forgiving look in his eyes told you that he wasn’t going to stop you from leaving. Even if you’d told him you’d blown up his house, he probably would’ve hugged you and told you it didn’t matter. And that’s what was so toxic; he was loving and gentle, and you clung to that because it made you feel comfortable.

“We’ve always only had each other, and it can’t be like that anymore. We need to get out of this pit, before we get too deep,” you said, with a finality that signalled the end of the conversation.

“I think it’s too late for that,” Taehyung admitted, his voice cracking and his ears turning a bright shade of red. Going red out of embarrassment was something you rarely saw, but you were in too much of a state to think too deeply about it.

“I need to think about Jungkook – that’s the least he deserves right now.” Bowing your head, you turned yourself away so you didn’t have to observe the disappointment and the confusion written on his face. Despite all the years you’d been friends, situations and circumstances had changed; it couldn’t be harmonious forever. For so long you and Taehyung had got along with no problems, but it was too good to last. Perhaps it was a disaster waiting to happen, you weren’t sure. Out of respect, Taehyung bowed in response, but the tears filling his eyes told you that he was far from okay about the outcome.

But there was nothing you could do. Jungkook needed you to be faithful, both physically and mentally. Although he didn’t tell you in the most careful and gentle of ways, he got his point across: he wasn’t about to fight for something that wasn’t available to him in the first place.

Taehyung kept his eyes upon you as you left, his eyebrows upturned and his hair unkempt and scruffy as a result of his fingers running through his pastel orange locks. You refused to look back, knowing that it only took one glance to melt your defences. You couldn’t give yourself that momentary weakness. Not again.

It put you at peace, knowing that you both had time to grow without the other person there. But it was peace in the saddest way possible.

Political Animals-Part 5

This is an A/B/O AU.  You are the Omega artist daughter of Naomi Novak, a world-class heart surgeon who is running  for Mayor of New York City.  After a meeting where your mother’s advisors call you a “liability”, she tells you that if you don’t do as your told she will cut you off.  You storm out and wind up in a bar a few blocks away.

The hottest Alpha you have EVER laid eyes on with a scent so mouthwatering you’re practically drooling offers to buy you a drink.  It’s just a drink, right? What do you have to lose? Only everything.

Characters: Omega! Reader, Beta! Naomi Novak, Alpha! Castiel Novak, Omega! Meg Novak, Claire Novak, Jimmy Novak, Alpha! Sam Winchester, Beta! Dean Winchester, Alpha! John Winchester, Omega! Jo Harvelle

Big thanks to @moansmisha  for letting me use some of her ideas from this post

FYI: The words in bold are texts

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

I should have known when Cas asked me to meet him for lunch at my favorite Thai restaurant that he was trying to bribe me.  He HATED Thai food.

“So next Friday is a fundraiser to benefit the Met.  It’s black tie.  Mom wants us all to go.  She says everyone who is anyone will be there, including a few wealthy patrons she is hoping will donate to her campaign.  Will you go?”  He looked worried.

I sighed.  “Why does she always send you to do her dirty work, Cas? It’s really not fair to you to be put in the middle of this mess with us.”

He grinned at me. “Mom’s a smart woman.  She knows you won’t say no to your big brother.  So are you in?  You can even bring a date if you want.”

I thought of Sam who I’d secretly seeing behind everyone’s back. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Mom said she would buy you a dress.  Will you be bringing someone?”  Cas asked uncomfortably.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I can buy my own damn dress, Cas! You’re not fooling me for a second.  That is just Mom’s way of trying to control what I wear.  And I’l be coming alone. I wouldn’t subject anyone to this train wreck.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Y/N.” Cas said with a smirk.

“I can’t wait until this damn election is over!” I told him with an exhausted groan.

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “But what if Mom wins?”

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Message In A Bottle

Request: based off the song I Don’t Even Know Your Name

a/n: hello!! hi! so sorry i’ve been a little mia! i want to make these requests as good as i can get them so, in turn, they take a while to get up!! i’ve also bee super busy with school! so i hope you enjoy this cute little one and let me know what you thought about it🤗🤗

*

Your name: submit What is this?

Your POV*

           “Katherine, was it really necessary to come this early?” You looked over at your friend, among the few other girls who thought it’d be a good idea to come line up outside of the venue early. 

           Katherine nodded her head vigorously and looked at you as if you’d just offended her, “Since we’re on the floor, we have general admission, and we have to be towards the front.”

           You rolled your eyes but nodded anyway.  Katherine had gotten tickets to see Shawn Mendes in concert.  You thought his music was catchy and liked it a lot, but Katherine was more of a fanatic when it came to him.  She had come over to your house the night before to make sure you had an outfit to wear because, as she said, “you never know what might happen, you could sweep him off his feet.”

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NewtXReader - The Perfect Gift

Request: Newt x Reader where Newt has an immense fear of something (you decide) and he’s approached with it but the reader aka his girlfriend comforts him?

masterlist

——————————————————————-

The smell of Jacob’s cinnamon cookies and Queenie’s delicious cooking, woke you gently from your sleep. Stretching your muscles, you sunk deeper into the fluffy pillow. Turning softly on your side you came face to face with Newt’s vibrant green eyes, studying every curve of your body. Let’s just say your nightgown was slightly on the revealing side. Shuffling closer you cuddled deep into his body, running a finger lightly against his broad chest. A gentle hum of happiness coming from his lips.

This was the first year you and Newt had spent Christmas together as a couple and life couldn’t be more bliss. Although personally you wished that it was just the 2 of you in the case, both of you had decided to spend the holiday at the Goldstein’s apartment. Your friends where your family after all.

You really couldn’t complain though as you still got to wake up to the most handsome freckled face in the whole world. Newt pulled the covers further over both of your bodies, making a cosy cocoon. “Merry Christmas”, he huskily mumbled into your hair, still very disoriented in his half asleep state. Giggling at his ticklish actions, you placed a gentle peck on his slightly chapped lips. “Merry Christmas”, you quietly replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

But before you could dip your head down for another kiss, Queenie burst into the room, completely unaware of your loved up position. Unable to control her childlike excitement she squealed, “Come on lovebirds! You two can be cuties later, I wanna open the presents”.

Her whines weren’t met with any response as in a blink of an eye, Queenie had rushed back to the living room, not even allowing her to take no for an answer.

Newt’s chest slightly vibrated as he chuckled at Queenie’s immature nature, the sound being sweet music to your ears. Placing one last kiss on those lovable lips, Newt slipped from the sheets off to tend to the creatures. The warmth of his body leaving you completely. It was almost like he was your personal hot water bottle.

Although you desperately wanted to persuade him to come back into bed again, you knew that just because it was Christmas that didn’t mean he couldn’t tend to his duties. The creatures came first and his dedication was always something you had admired about him.

“Don’t take too long love” you called after him. His playful laughter being the only response you received, you decided to savour the residual heat left from him, curling back up under the covers.

5 more minutes wouldn’t hurt?

————————————————————————————–

*1 hour later*

After forcing yourself from the bed and making yourself presentable, you joined Jacob and the Goldstein sisters underneath the decorated Christmas tree. Newt had obviously lost track of time and was still in his case, however it was difficult to get Queenie to wait any longer.

Tina had organised all the presents into little piles according to person, to prevent Queenie from opening the wrong gift. It was easy for her to get carried away in her exhilaration.

Noticing her sister’s eagerness Tina finally gave in, “fineeee, Queenie you go first”,she sighed.

Letting out a quick squeal, Queenie didn’t need to be asked twice before tearing through all her presents. Her hands moved in a blur as she undid the hours of wrapping. To be honest her speed was making you dizzy. 

Her feminine taste was highlighted by everything she received, nearly every present having at least one tone of pink in it. Pink nightgowns, pink shoes, pink scarf, pink hat…..it was starting to make you feel nausea.

Tina received more sensible gifts such as books and stationary, although she was thankful nevertheless. Jacob was given cooking equipment and recipe books to keep him ticking over (and of course a pink tie from Queenie, which you knew for a fact he’d never wear).

The residue of torn wrapping paper lay scattered all over the living room floor. You were overwhelmed at the beautiful gifts you had received from the others but to be honest your mind was somewhere else. Where was Newt?

Almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, an out of breath, flushed Newt appeared into the room, “sorry the niffler was being extra difficult” he puffed sending a sorry smile in your direction.

“Thought Pickett had taken you hostage!” You playfully teased as you ushered him over to where the gifts lay. Studying his surroundings Newt noticed the expensive presents everyone else had given you. A silver ring with a blue Jewel from Tina, Perfume from Queenie and a baking kit from Jacob. His cheeks redden as worry started to cloud his mind.

Looking into your hopeful eyes, his world started to come crashing down. He saw the excitement laced in your eyes, unaware of what you where about to receive from him. Your hope was tearing Newt apart, what exactly had you been expecting? Designer dresses, expensive fragrances, priceless jewellery?Unfortunately all of these guesses where far out of a Magozoologist’s salary. He couldn’t afford the gifts that most women wanted…

“Do I get to open yours now Mr Scamander?”, you excitedly asked, a warm smile beaming on your face. You didn’t really care what Newt had bought you however Newt remained oblivious to this.

He looked down to the crumpled piece of paper in his hand, before quickly stuffing it back into his coat. It was worthless compared to the fine gifts the others had given you.

Although he knew you would be accepting for whatever he gave you, Newt feared you would figure out the truth. The truth that he would never be enough. Just not in terms of giving presents but as a boyfriend. As the realisation hit him a soft frown washed over his face. He especially didn’t want to face the embarrassment of losing you in front of the others and holding back his tears wasn’t a guarantee.

Unbeknown to Newt, his worries had caught the attention of a certain legilimen. Reading his mind, Queenie shot a concerned glance in Newt’s direction before making a change of topic, “I think the turkey’s nearly ready? Why don’t you open Newt’s present later?” she suggested throwing a sympathetic look once more at Newt.

Although you were slightly disappointed that the wait would be extended, you failed to notice the relief plastered on Newt’s face. He silently thanked Queenie for giving him more time and excuse himself for ‘a breath of fresh air’.

As everyone sat down at the Christmas table, Newt dashed out the apartment door into the empty streets. Not a single person to be seen. Maybe now he could go out and purchase another gift, one more for deserving of you.

Although after an hour of relentless searching it was clear that all hope was lost. Every store closed for the Christmas break no one in a right mind would be open over the holiays. What was he going to do? He couldn’t return back with what he’d originally planned to give you.

“Bugger” he mumbled, running a hand through his mess auburn hair. Finally giving up, Newt trailed back to the apartment to face the inevitable.

Opening the door, he noticed the empty Christmas dinner plates sitting by the sink. Had he really been away for that long? Looking around he saw that no one else was in the room, only you who was anxiously pacing back and forward.

Noticing you Newt’s presence you rushed over to him, tightly wrapping your arms around his tall frame. Nuzzling into his chest, relief flushed through your body.

“Merlin Newt, where did you go? You missed all of Christmas dinner..” Angry undertones laced your voice, although they were purely out of concern for him. You couldn’t even enjoy your Christmas meal, you were so worried about him.

However upon nothing the solemn look on Newt’s face your anger deceased. “Newt…did you forget to get me something?” You wearily asked, noticing his defeatist attitude. You didn’t really mind but wished that if he had forgotten, he would of told you straight up.

“No - well - it’s just… I did buy you something but - it’s not good enough” Newt downheartedly mumbled the last part under his breath. Sorrow dripped from his voice as he completely avoided giving you eye contact. Is this what he was scared of all along?

An amused smile spread across your face, as you caressed Newt’s cheek, “I’d be honoured to receive anything from you”. Giving him a reassuring look you lightly pressed you lips against his.

Taking a nervous deep breath in, Newt slipped his hand into his pocket, revealing the paper he had been hiding all night. Shakily handing it to you, you unraveled the crumpled edges to find a beautiful illustration.

Before your gaze lay an image of a girl. Each pencil line capturing the uniqueness and beauty of the woman, hours and hours of work obviously had been put into the creation of it. So much life and expression where drawn into her eyes, as though she had seen the entire world. Signed at the bottom was Newt’s name, handwriting you could only identify as his. Running your eyes over the drawing once more, the realisation finally set in.

It was you.

Was this how he saw you? As elegant and alluring as this? Although slightly dog-eared it was perfect. A happy tear rolled down your cheek, slightly staining the paper. Noticing the smudge the tear had caused, you immediately apologised, “God Newt I’m so sorry - I didn’t mean to ruin it”

“It was ruined from the moment a drew it” he muttered under his breath, still avoiding your gaze.

“What are you talking about?” You softly gasped in shock, “shhhhh don’t tell the others but this is my favourite present”. You cheekily whispered, making sure that only he heard.

“But-t it not worth as much as your others presents….” He sighed, still looking upset.

“Newt I don’t need any expensive jewellery, fancy clothes or anything….when I met you I got the perfect gift I could ever ask for”.

Without thought, Newt brought his lips to meet yours. Closing your eyes, you responded equally, loving the safe and passionate feeling Newt provided. He kissed you again and again, each kiss more intense than the last. He couldn’t believe it. You loved the drawing. Wrapping his arms around your frame, Newt’s heart raced wildly as he felt you press against him. Time was lost until a mildly disgusted voice rang behind you.

“Seriously you two? On Jesus’ birthday?” Tina playfully remarked.

——————————————————————-

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! Excuse any mistakes but its 12:08am here and I’m dead. Feel free to send in more requests! Also check out my other new fanfic 'embarassed’ on my masterlist Xx

Ungrateful Part. 1

Requested: No

Summary: Peter Parker found his soulmate in kindergarten, and started dating them at age 11, but he still can’t seem to shake his feelings for a certain Gwen Stacy. 

Word Count: 1,636

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3

A/N: This is supposed to turn out angsty, but we’ll see how this goes. Also I know this isn’t 100% accurate to the movie but to baddddd.


2 months before the bite

When Peter Parker was 5 years old he met his soulmate. While most people met their soulmate as a young adult, or if they’re lucky as a teen, but Peter Parker was blessed by knowing his soulmate nearly his entire 

What is your favorite color?” were the first words he had said to them.

Blue and red.” Y/N Y/L/N replied with a toothy grin on their face. 

He would never forget those words, he always looked at them when he was stressed or depressed or simply missed his soulmate. But there was another he had loved since he was a child as well. 

Gwen Stacy. Daughter of Captain Stacy and top of her class since middle school. In Peter’s eyes, she was perfect. So kind, funny, and smart, how could anybody want anything more? 

He shook these thoughts from his head as he walked down the halls, hand in hand with Y/N. They bumped into him playfully looking up at him with a smile on their face. 

“What’s up Handsome? Any particular reason why you’re spacing out, or is my beauty just too much for you to handle?” they inquired flirtatiously. 

He looked over at them before shaking his head and chuckling quietly, “You’re just too damn distracting Y/N.”

They stopped and faced him fully lacing the fingers of both of their hands together. 

“Are you ok though, seriously?”

He smiled at them before pecking their nose.”

“Yeah I’m fine, just tired. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to flunk my English test.”

“It’s Thursday, B - track you don’t have English today.” 

He smiled lightly before giving them a light kiss, “You’re a lifesaver, what would I do without you?”

“Perish,” They said while giggling lightly. 

Smiling they walked down the hall together until their next class. 

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About Last Night

They shouldn’t have slept together. But they did. Now for the aftermath.


Also on AO3/FF.NET 

unbeta’d. All mistakes my own…

1.8k


A prompt from @distant-rose: best friends secretly pining plus locked in a closet by other frustrated, impatient and exasperated friends. A baby ficlet dedicated to @nickillian


Emma Swan: expert at running away from shit. That’s what her obituary would say.

And by shit it would mean anything remotely resembling a situation where her emotions would be exposed and she would get hurt. Which was why she was currently hiding in Mary Margaret Nolan’s den.

“I’m failing to see the problem,” the brunette mused over a steaming cup of tea.

“Ms - I slept with Killian.”

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Felix Felicis (Harry Potter)

Summary: Reader is an exchange student from Ilvermorny who has a huge crush on Draco but is convinced it’s unrequited love. (Hint: IT’S NOT)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: middle-school language, mild Brit-speak, irresponsibly liberal use of italics and dashes–as per usual

Word count: 1,685

Notes: written for the amazing @elizahackler on IG. Go follow them!

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