i watched this at work and nearly burst out laughing oh my god

Paper Hearts Finale

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 6.4k

♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

1  ♡2  ♡3  4  5  6  7  8 9 ♡10 ♡11 ♡12 ♡13 ♡14 ♡15 ♡Finale
♡JK ♡JM

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hold my beer

Ok so this is yet another idea that I will NEVER have time to write (for those that follow my Cross the River one shots, I’m still sorry for inflicting the half finished fics on you haha. But I’m not sorry for inflicting this idea on you

Three words:

Drunk. Ladynoir. Wedding. wait is ladynoir even technically a word?

  • It’s quite a few years into the future and Adrien and Marinette are happily revealed and happily married. Everything’s just friggin peachy
  • One day there is an akuma, a girl who got dumped by a dickhead bf for another girl and then goes on a rampage to show everyone she is ‘good enough.’ After they defeat her, they try to cheer her up
  • Chat, being Chat, thinks that being a flirt will help boost her self-esteem, bc, you know, getting flirted at by a superhero is an ego boost no matter how sad you are
  • Lo and behold, it backfires
  • The girl (lets call her Ada) gets pissed off that Chat is flirting with her right in front of Lady, because “Aren’t you guys like, together??”
  • Chat backpedals, Lady facepalms. No it’s still not official or public that they’re together (keep work separate from home, yknow what I’m sayin, and besides, it’s unwise to let Hawky know the full extent of how much they care for each other because they don’t want to be emotionally manipulated in battle)
  • The girl is like “shit I thought you guys were like.. the perfect relationship. Obviously not. If even you aren’t together, then where’s the hope for me…. sighh….” :’(
  • Ada is so upset that they decide to let her in on a little secret. That in their civilian lives… they are married
  • Ada is all,  :’D omg seriously
  • (^..^) and >(:-:) are like, yeah, but dont tell anyone. It’s a secret. ((SLAPS YOU WITH HEAVY-HANDED FORESHADOWING)) Hey I know what’ll cheer you up, Ada. Lets go out for drinks!
  • AND SO MY FRIENDS, that is how Adrien and Mari end up spending a night on the town with a recent akuma victim as Chat and Lady…

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MariChat May
Day 6: Game Night
Words: 1,233
FF.net|AO3
 


“I want to play a game.” he says, leaning casually on his staff. Marinette keeps herself on the opposite side of the room, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I don’t like your games.” she answers, sounding quite unlike the strong Ladybug he knows she is.

“You used to.” he answers. She flinches.

“That was before you became a puppet.” she whispers.

Chat laughs, purple eyes gleaming and looking so wrong.

“I’m no puppet. I’ve always existed inside of your partner.” he seems to take only one step, but in the space of a blink he’s right in front of her, leaning towards her ear. “His resentment for you created me.”

He hears her gasp, and choke. It breaks off and a swallow works down her throat.

“I want to play a game.” he repeats. “I remember you mentioning that Wednesday’s used to be game nights… yes?” his hand trails up her arm, feeling her muscles tense.

“Yes.” she breathes out. “Wha-W-Wh-What play…. Game. Game do you play?”

“Hmmm… how about ‘Can you save your partner.’ That sound fun?”

Marinette shakes, he watches her bite her lip out of the corner of his eye. Her lip is trembling, it’s so cute that chat traces his thumb over it and revels in her whimper.

“You’re sick.” she whispers.

Chat steps back, grinning widely. He moves to sit down on her chase and watches in great satisfaction as she trembles and takes a shaky breath in. Her whole body is wired, on edge and her knees are shaking. She refuses to fall, knowing that’s what he wants.

“What’s your game?” she pants.

If possible, Chat Blanc grins wider and gently gets up to lead his princess to the couch. She sits, but puts as much space between him and her as possible. Not as if it would help.

“Say the thing that your partner wants to hear the most, and I might give him back.”

Marinette can’t hold back anymore and a stray tear leaves her eye. Chat resists the urge to lick it away, instead just watches it’s progress as she trembles. She’s muttering to herself, so low he can hardly hear it.

“Rules?” she finally asks.

“You get three chances, but if you say something wrong. You die. Because that means you never cared for him in the first place.”

“God you’re annoying.” Marinette murmurs.

“Is that one of your three?” Chat mocks.

The girl rolls her eyes, then takes a deep breath.

“I miss us.” is the first thing she says. Looking beaten down and tired. “I’m sick of fighting you. And I want you to come home.”

“That should be three things, Princess.” he replies, but he can feel a jolt inside of him that wants him to just quit. Pull her closer. This is his Lady, his Princess, she trusted him.

“Two. Hawkmoth can’t give you what you want.”

He swings his baton downwards, but she splits her legs and it hits the couch between them with a loud THWACK.

When he looks up she’s glaring at him.

“Come on Princess, you’re supposed to get rid of me.” Chat says.

“I don’t want to get rid of you.” she says.

“Thats a lie.” Chat thrusts his baton at her stomach but she dodges to the side and redirects his weapon by sliding the back of her hand along it. Then she surges forwards, and Chat ready to defend himself puts his arms up. But she just wraps around him. Sliding her arms around his stomach, her legs tangling with his, and she presses her face into his neck.

He actually shudders, and it trails from the end of his tail up his neck where he can feel his ears go hot.

“What are you doing!” he screeches, looking desperately for his baton to pry the girl from him. But ramming it into the arm of the chair bent it and pulled it from his hand.

He squeaks when Mari adjusts her grip tighter and starts moving her face against his neck and shoulder.

“You’re still my kitty.” she whispers, her voice breathy and exerted.

“No I’m not, I’m under Hawkmoth now and you-”

He wasn’t prepared for the hand that had snuck up and scratched its fingers between his ears. He shudders, eyes rolling back and tail twitching frantically. To his embarrassment a half moan half purr is pulled from his mouth, and he can feel Mari’s smile against his shoulder.

“See, my kitten still loves being scratched.”

To his embarrassment he still can’t reply because as soon as he’s about to her hand moves and scratches behind his left ear. He presses his lips tight together, hands on her waist fighting with themselves. Push or pull. His feet want to move but she’s pinning them down with her own.

She finds his pulse with her nose, and then sniffs him. Actually sniffs him. Takes a deep breath in right there.

It’s so unfair.

“Are you scenting me?” he squeaks,

“My kitty. Mine. Hawkmoth can’t have you. You’re mine.” she breaths out.

His traitorous heart thumps in his chest.

Oh god.

He feels her pucker her lips. Not enough to really count a kiss, just enough to let him know that she could.

She could do a lot of things to him right now.

He’s been tense the entire time waiting for a surprise attack, but none come.

Her fingers are scratching against his ear just right before she moves her face and presses her lips to his jaw. Still not really kissing him.

She moves her hand, fingers clenching in his hair. He readies for an attack as she forces his head towards her. Perhaps a knee to his stomach? Maybe a knife she’s been hiding? Snatching his hand from where it rests on her hips to steal his ring?

All of those things seem more likely than what her actual pièce de résistance is a barely there kiss that she presses to his mouth.

Her lips are unfairly soft, traitorously inviting as she presses them hesitantly against his. She moves, sliding her lips against them and the dam of butterflies waiting in his stomach twists nearly painfully, then bursts. Sending warmth throughout his body, making him exhausted and shaky and warm.

When he pulls back to move, bump his nose against hers and get her to a better angle to hit a sudden itch she lets out a disappointed -well… he doesn’t want to say click, but a twitter or a vibration that comes from her quite like a ladybug- click and chases his lips with hers, fingers tightening in his hair.

It breaks his heart and heals it, sends his stomach doing absolute back flips, sends his head recalling and forgetting and remembering what it’s like to love her and every action she makes.

A purr like a motor, one she hasn’t heard in months starts in his chest. It rumbles against her chest and against her lips. She smiles against him, he almost sighs. God she’s cute.

She pulls back, and he tries to chase her again, wanting wanting wanting. But her hand in his hair keeps him from doing so. She smirks.

“My kitty will always have a part of him in you.” she says. “I’m accepting you. I love all of you, Chat. And all of you is mine.”

Oh god. So that’s her game. 

Sanvers College AU: Finals Week

This goes out to all of yall going through finals: you are amazing and I promise, you will get through it! Remember that your grades are not a reflection of your self-worth, and you have so much to be proud of. You’re almost there and you can do it!!!! <3 <3 <3 

The only advantage of finals week is that she almost never has to change out of her pajamas.

Maggie says they’re cute.

She only hears Eliza’s voice in her head, laughing softly and asking her why exams prevent her from proper hygiene.

Because of you, Mom, she wants to say, but she only says it in her head.

Because Eliza also texts her every day, wishing her luck while telling her she doesn’t need luck, because she is brilliant, and she is proud of her, and she can do this.

It warms her heart, but it makes her feel the pressure more acutely, somehow all at the same time.

She lets Maggie read the texts over her shoulder.

Maggie never says anything.

There’s been radio silence from her mother for going on five years now.

So they don’t talk about it. Eliza. Because Alex wonders if it’s better to have a mother who showers her with both love and with pressure than to have a mother who doesn’t even know her daughter’s in college, let alone going through finals week.

They don’t talk about it, but Maggie squeezes her thigh and kisses the back of her neck and Alex does the same for her.

It’s just as well.

They have studying to do.

Sometimes Alex needs to down anti-anxiety meds and coffee – it makes her shake terribly, but it keeps her awake and it keeps her from panicking so hard she can’t breathe – and lock herself in a study room in the library, alone.

Maggie smuggles in food at three am, and she makes sure Alex eats and drinks before she retreats back out of Alex’s frenetic study space.

Sometimes Alex needs to lay on the floor of Maggie’s dorm room, flat on her back, her feet up on Maggie’s couch, in Maggie’s lap, while Maggie and Lena quiz her, rapid fire – the only way she likes it, under pressure – on quantum entanglement and polyatomic anions and seventeenth century French politics.

Lena has to help them both with that last bit: boarding school prepared her for those history tests better than anything Maggie or Alex had experienced. 

Alex still nearly fails.

Maggie has to hold her all night to remind her that she is not her test grades.

That her worth is far greater, always, than the sum of her scores.

Maggie doesn’t talk much about her own stress.

About the way she studies long after even Alex falls asleep.

Because Lena’s mother is paying for everything, and Alex’s mother is paying for everything, but Maggie doesn’t even know her mother anymore, and even if she did, paying for college would be a waste because she could just stay on the family farm.

She scoffs to herself.

She could have, if they let her.

But they didn’t, so she’s on scholarship. She’s on scholarship that she worked silently, steadily, desperately to get. 

She’s on scholarship and she cannot lose it.

Because if she loses it, she will have no education, no housing, no job, no income, no Alex. No anything.

If she loses it, she’ll be fourteen again.

So Alex sets her alarm for four am, because they don’t talk about it, but Alex still knows. She sets her alarm and she bundles herself in her biggest hoodie and she stumbles out to the only all night cafeteria across campus, and she comes back to feed Maggie, just like Maggie feeds her. 

She holds her and she tells her she’s incredible and she’s tough and she’s smart and she’s going to kick this exam in the face.

Lena, sleeping on her and Maggie’s couch with an astrophysics book still in her hands, mutters something about blackbody radiation, and Alex and Maggie have to stifle each other’s giggles.

None of them wake up in time for their biology exam.

Lucy Lane has to burst into Maggie and Lena’s dorm, hollering about Alex needing to text when she’s not going to come home, to text when she’s planning to sleep away that perfect grade they all know she’s going to get, and “hey, Sawyer, anyone tell you you look adorable in Danvers’s sweaters?” and “Danvers, I know we have to get going, but damn, do you maybe wanna put on some pants first?”

Her jovial spirit doesn’t fool any of them: they know she’s been up all night, same as them, pacing, panicking, but they know James and Winn kept her sane, kept her safe, kept her stable.

Alex smiles down at the text she gets from Kara, from Eliza, a selfie of the two of them together, holding a sign that Kara clearly made, telling her that her semi-permeable membranes are only letting in the best of luck.

Maggie reminds Alex to eat something to go with her anti-anxiety pill, and Lena takes hers when she thinks no one’s watching. Lucy touches her arm and gives her a small grin.

“The boys are saving us seats,” she tells them all. “I don’t think Schott wanted to risk getting decapitated by any of you if he walked in and you weren’t decent or something.”

“He knows we’re all queer, right?”

“He also knows you’re all dangerous.”

Alex, Lena, and Maggie grin, shrug, and nod. “Fair point.”

They walk in together, and Maggie hugs James, hugs Winn. Lena and Alex sort of grin at them faintly.

Maggie kisses Alex’s hand.

“You’re amazing, Danvers,” she whispers as they settle into their lecture hall seats. “And when we’re done, you can make like DNA helicase and unzip – “

“Oh my god, Sawyer, we’re about to take a final, could you not?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to comfort my girlfriend, you don’t have to get all snappy because you don’t have one.”

She, Lucy, and Alex all stare at each other for a long moment, and then lean into each other, bursting into hysterical laughter.

Maybe this – this friendship, this love, this community – maybe this was more important than the letter they earned, after all.

Alex still nearly throws up when the exam is placed in front of her, and Maggie closes her eyes for a long moment, doing what she always does with exams: wiping her mind completely blank – thank god for yoga – so when she opens her eyes, her knowledge will be fresh, her approach will be fresh, her spirit will be fresh. She focuses on writing her name, clean and neat and confident.

She’ll dive into the rest of the exam with that confidence.

The confidence – the drive – that the burden of her name gives her.

To her other side, Lena is doing the same. 

Alex and Lena are the first to finish and the last to leave.

Maggie, James, Lucy, and Winn all finish at different paces, but they all wait, idly going over their tests, doodling on their scrap paper, breathing, fantasizing, wishing, waiting – until Alex and Lena are done meticulously going over their answers, meticulously making sure that not a mark is out of place.

They don’t leave before their friends do because they know it’ll send them into a panic. That they did something wrong. That they’re stupid for taking too long. That they’re alone, alone, alone.

And they’re not alone. So they wait. 

And they all leave together, Alex with her phone bursting with congratulatory texts from Kara, taking selfies in her high school bathroom with thumbs up and kisses and congratulations on finishing captions.

They all leave together, pushing out the doors of the lecture hall, out of the maze of the science building, and into the dazzling daylight of their campus.

None of them have slept, and none of them have treated their bodies particularly well, beyond what the people who love them forced them to eat, to drink.

But now? Now they get to lay on the quad – James spreading his jacket down for Lena, Maggie pulling Alex into her arms, Lucy adjusting Winn like he’s a pillow – and they get to laugh, and they get to sleep, and they get to dare to dream that they’re worth it, that they did it, that are, indeed, more than the sum of their scores.

TROUBLE (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

Request: Can i request a bellamy imagine where y/n is a grounder and is best friends like sisters with Octavia (they do almost everything together), and as a grounder a lot of arkadia still dont trust her (even Bellamy) so she does everything to help around and make them accept her. One day some people gang up on her wanting to kill or get her to leave and bellamy stands up for her. Thank you and sorry its long 😊

  masterlist


Making your way to the drop ship, you hurry. They’re going to be back soon and you need to be there if anyone’s hurt. Sure, it’s just a normal hunting trip but these Skypeople always seem to find trouble. 

You’ve been walking in a desperate circle for months now, just hoping that one day the members of Arkadia will finally accept you. It was a vicious cycle. They would be hurt or need help and you were always there to assist them. You helped them with anything they needed. But still, their minds were shut. 

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Partners in Crime-Loki One shot

                                                    Loki x Reader


“ I cant believe I let you rope me into thing.” you whisper harshly . Loki rolls his eyes at you , then directs his attention back to your targets.

“  You said yes before I even got a chance to tell you whats going to happen ! i didn’t need to rope you in you fool. It’s too late to back out now, you’re guilty by associate dear.” he says with a wicked grin.  Loki barged into your room 20 minutes ago claiming he had a fun idea to screw with the team.  You didn’t even need to hear the plan, you just automatically agreed to help.

 The two of you are hiding around the corner , watching as the rest of the team watches F.RI.E.N.D.S. in the Tv room. 

“ Here we go  .” He says deviously , he pushes his hand forward creating a flash of yellow throughout the room . You shield your eyes from the brightnessby hiding behind the God of Mischief .

“ Did it work?” you ask quietly , you peek over his shoulder at the team . They look unaffected by whatever he just did .

“ You’re losing your touch , KoKo.” you tease .

“ How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that ?!”

You send him wink before heading to the TV room to join your friends. Loki comes in after you , taking a empty seat next to you .  You both observe the team , seeing if his plan worked but it clearly didn’t. what a bust. 

Originally posted by crazyintheeast


 Your woken the next morning by a shrill scream , your body kicked into gear as you grab your gun from your bedside table and bolt into the hallway . You follow the chorus of yells through the tower until you end up in the kitchen . You raise your gun when you see the kitchen containing a group of people you don’t recognize.

“ Y/n its us !” A man with Red hair booms .You feel like he looks so familiar , but cant place your finger on why . 

Loki snickers from behind you ,   making realization kick in . You take in the appearances of the others ; your theory is proven correct when your eyes land on the beautiful girl with long brown hair, light blue eyes , and a metal arm .

 You lower your gun as you burst out laughing.

“ Oh my God, this is beautiful!"   Loki is smirking at you , watching as you nearly fall over laughing .

Originally posted by lilpieceofmyworld

” This isn't  funny Y/n! Turn us back now!“ Sam says, his voice was high pitched, and he placed his hands on his waist .

” I don’t know, I’m kinda digging this. “ Tony Says as he looks down his own shirts, ” Boobs whenever I want.“

 The team lets out a mix of gags, complaints and threats to you and Loki  .

” Youll be normal in 24 hours .“ Loki calmly tells them . He grabs your hand , tugging you towards the exit.

” Better hope you guys don’t get your periods within the day!“  you shout over your shoulder.

You hear numerous whines, and some laughter from others.  You turn to Loki with a smile as he pulls you in the elevator.

” You know they are going to want revenge right?“ you ask

” I think I can handle them darling. “ he says, placing his arm around your waist, and a kiss to your cheek .

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

@leah5684  @omgpandagirl14 @netherqueen23  @frickin-bats  @elaacreditava  @skeletoresinthebasement @sammnipple

@its-not-a-phase-hux

Happy Birthday H | Bright Red | Harry Styles One Shot

Morning. Just a little birthday one shot seeing as it is a certain someone’s birthday. Hope you enjoy it. Ixx


The excitement really hit you as the plane touched the ground in LA, you were there. It had started when you first booked your ticket, what felt like months ago but really had only been days. It had increased when you finally sat down on the plane and had stopped you from getting any decent sleep the whole flight. But now, as you were sat in the passenger seat of Glenne’s car it was tumbling inside of you like a wave. It would settle for a few moments but then quickly rise before crashing down and giving you a shiver of anticipation.

You were glad for the sunshine that was warming your face that would have been numb from the January weather had you still been in London. It was a welcome relief, as you walked out of the airport with Glenne towards her car, to be able to forget about your coat and drape it over your suitcase. As soon as you’d stepped off the plane you’d grabbed the sunglasses Harry had bought you from your bag, and you hadn’t put them away yet. It wasn’t particularly warm for LA, it wasn’t summer after all, but to you who hadn’t been out of London for months it was positively tropical.

Glenne offered to take you back to hers first to freshen up but you declined. A shower could wait, despite the tiredness and clagginess you were feeling, you just wanted to get to Harry and see the look on his face when he saw you. You’d told him you wouldn’t be able to make it out for his birthday before he’d even left and again the previous day. You felt awful when you saw the saddened look on his face, especially when you knew it was a lie. Originally you weren’t sure you would be able to make it so you thought it would be best to tell him you couldn’t so you wouldn’t let him down. When you’d found out you would be able to make it out to LA for his birthday Jeff had suggested keeping it quiet and surprising him. You couldn’t resist, even when you heard the reserved understanding tone in Harry’s voice. He was understanding but if it was up to him you’d be by his side every single day but in particular on his birthday.

Glenne pulled up outside the recording studio. You’d been there before, Harry had recorded in the same studio with One Direction on the odd occasion and you’d been there with him once. You thanked Glenne, telling her you’d see her later as she handed you your bags and you made your way into the studio. You followed the corridor down to the room at the back. It was exactly like you remembered. The producer, who you half recognised from a brief introduction in London, was sat at the desk and looked up and smiled as you entered. Due to the design of the room, Harry couldn’t see out to the desk from where he was stood in the recording booth. The producer greeted you with a hug and asked all the polite questions, how are you, how was your flight? And you responded accordingly.

You sat down next to him and he handed you some headphones which you placed over your head, Harry’s voice filling your ears. He sounded as perfect as he always did. He’d told you he’d be recording this morning and you’d commented that didn’t sound like the best way to spend his birthday but he’d told you, as you anticipated, he didn’t mind too much. He enjoyed recording and it needed to be done. You’d hoped he’d be having a lazy morning at home so you could surprise him there but now you were in the studio and listening to him finally recording the songs he’d been writing and working on for months, you were glad he wasn’t.

‘That sounds great H.’ The producer commented as Harry finished and his voice faded away. The producer looked to you and winked. ‘Just one thing…’

‘Happy Birthday baby.’ You said into the microphone with a giggle. You looked out into the studio and saw Harry turn in the booth to look back at you.

‘Shit.’ You heard him exclaim through the headphones you were still wearing. You chuckled as you took them off watching Harry leave the booth and disappear out of the studio room. Seconds later her was bursting his way through the door and marching towards you, a large grin on his face and tears in his eyes. You were standing now and within two steps he was in front of you, his large, muscular arms wrapped around you and lifting you off your feet. ‘I thought you couldn’t make it.’ He said still holding onto you tightly almost as if he feared letting go of you. You chuckled and pushed back against his chest so you could look up at him. Before you could speak he pressed his lips into yours fiercely and you kissed him back with just as much passion. You’d missed him indescribably, life was always a little greyer without him around at home, it all seemed a bit brighter when you were together, feeding of one another’s energy and revelling in each other’s presence.

‘Pulled some strings.’ You told him with a wink and his smile only got bigger. ‘Jeff suggested surprising you.’ You told him and he rolled his eyes to which you chuckled.

‘I’ll kill him.’ He threatened before turning to the producer. ‘Do you mind if we call it a day?’ Harry asked taking your hand as he turned away from you. The producer nodded with a smile and you couldn’t believe how grateful you felt. ‘Thanks mate, I’ll let you know when we can get back in.’ Harry turned back to you giving you another hug before grabbing your suitcase and your hand and leading you out of the studio.

He took you to his car in the parking lot and you hopped in. You stopped to grab take out coffee and bagels and then drove straight to Harry’s house. He didn’t let go of your hand the whole way. Even when he pulled up inside the gates of the house he was out of the car and taking your hand, helping you step out before you could even unbuckle your seat belt.

‘I’ll grab your bags later.’ He told you with a smile, the same smile that had appeared at the sight of you. You followed him to the house that you’d finally grown accustomed to. It was large and imposing, but beautiful and very Harry - filled with artwork by artists you’d never heard off and beautiful furniture. It was lighter than the London home you now shared and more open, it wasn’t as cosy as your London home but for the short periods you were in LA with Harry it was a nice break. It always made time in LA feel like a holiday.

You sat together in the living room eating your bagels and sipping on coffee. You asked him how his birthday had been so far and he shrugged telling you ok, better now you were there to which you laughed. You made the normal small talk as you ate.Once you’d finished your bagel you excused yourself for a few moments telling him you needed the bathroom but sneaking out to the car to fetch his present from your bag. You were excited to give it to him and couldn’t wait any longer now the excitement of seeing him was settling down.

His eyes went wide as you entered the room with the large, brightly wrapped present. He chuckled nearly choking on his coffee.

‘What’s this?’ He asked putting the cup on the table and dropping his legs from it. He pulled them up under himself folding them as if he were a child. You handed the gift to him and he took it cautiously.

‘Happy Birthday H.’ You said with a smile giving him a sweet kiss before sitting down next to him. He looked from you to the present and back to you, giving you big doe eyes. He looked like a toddler version of himself, not sure whether he was allowed to open it or not, waiting for confirmation with eagerness in his eyes. ‘Open it.’ You encouraged with a giggle. You watched on nervously, chewing at the loose skin around your nails, as Harry pulled at the sellotaped paper. He seemed to take too long and you began bouncing your knee in anticipation as Harry finally unfolded the paper from across the centre to reveal the bright red fabric underneath.

‘Oh my god Y/N, is this what I think it is?’ You smiled as Harry pulled the fabric from the paper completely holding it up. The coat fell to its length and you heard his breath catch. You knew he’d been eyeing it up for a while and you couldn’t resist going into the store and purchasing it for him for his birthday. ‘Y/N you shouldn’t have.’ He said looking to you a mixture of happiness on his face and guilt. He never liked having money spent on him but that wasn’t what this was about. He deserved to be spoilt. He always ensured everyone else was spoilt that he didn’t always think about himself and he’d worked tirelessly recently, he deserved it.

‘It’s fine.’ You told him gladly accepting the kiss he was leaning over for. ‘Do you like it?’ You asked and he nodded wildly looking back to his new coat. ‘Try it on.’ You encouraged feeling nervous once again.

He stood up and unbuttoned the jacket. You hadn’t wanted to take the coat out of the fine paper and bag that the store had wrapped it in but you knew he’d know what it was instantly if you hadn’t taken it out, you were just relieved it hadn’t creased. Harry pulled the coat on over his t-shirt and jeans. It looked incredible, you knew it would do, red suited him and he didn’t wear it enough. It complimented his golden skin tone and his dark hair and features. He looked regal as he stood before you pulling the coat at the collar until it sat just right.

‘Looks amazing.’ You told him sincerely looking him up and down.

‘Yeah?’ He asked. You nodded and silently egged him on to check out the pockets but he didn’t just looked down at himself and moved the coat around on his body.

‘Check out the inside pockets.’ You told him, he looked at you a little confused as you expected but he wasn’t going to do it unless you told him to. He did as you said reaching into the inside of his coat. His brow furrowed further and you knew he felt it. He pulled out the two rectangular pieces of paper and stared at them for a few seconds. Eventually he looked up at you his eyes wide. You smiled.

‘How did you get these? They were sold out?’ He asked the joy evident on his face. You chuckled.

‘Pulled some strings.’ You told him simply. Working in the music industry meant you had contacts, that was how you met Harry in the first place. You knew Harry had wanted to get to the Kings Of Leon show whilst he was in LA but he hadn’t been able to get tickets. You used all the pulling power you had to get your hands on the tickets and you owed someone a massive favour but it was all worth it for the look on Harry’s face. He looked like a child that had just been told they’d been given a sweet shop for Christmas.

‘Y/N you’re fucking amazing.’ Harry said with a huge grin moving quickly towards you and bending down to your level. ‘Thank you so much, I don’t deserve you.’ You giggled as he kissed you again. You took it upon yourself to deepen the kiss, there was just something about him in red. You prised his mouth open with your tongue before darting it against his. He groaned into your mouth and you grinned happy with the response. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He said pulling you to your feet placing the tickets on the table. He lifted you from your feet and you wrapped your legs around him and the coat.

‘Leave the coat on.’ You instructed as he began moving toward the bedroom your hands tangled in his hair as he attacked your chest through your t shirt with kisses. He chuckled darkly but you knew he’d comply.

If missing him and being missed by him was grey, then loving him and being loved by him was bright red.

Sins of the Father: Let It Rain

Pairing: Finn Bálor x Reader

Warnings: Brief sexual fantasy with brief sacrilege (no need to squint this time - it’s there). A very cruel tease of smut… (I’m so sorry. Okay, not really.)

Word Count: 1198

A/N: Hello hello! So, um, funny story…here’s where things get a bit real. Unfortunately, this particular installment got to where it has to be divided into two installments. So the next part I post, it won’t be an interlude, but a full-blown chapter. And boy oh boy, there will be smut

Quick reminder for new readers just joining in (hi new readers!): normally, I write fics for Supernatural. However, I’m also a huge fan of WWE and love reading the works of that community as well. After reading some brilliant pieces from - and chatting with - the amazing @devitt-club. I got inspired to write a fic featuring one of my current favorites: Finn Bálor. This fic is starting to grow a bit beyond my control and, quite frankly, I couldn’t be happier.

Apologies in advance because, this being my first foray into WWE fanfic (and alternate universe at that), this will probably suck. Still, it’s worth the risk. ^_^

Tag: @yourr-anger-your-anchor @motleymoose @georgiadean37 @wweximaginesxd@racheo91 @daddy-slug @blondekel77 @ambrosegirlforever @liam-is-sexy10 @fucking-bandsx @boundtomyfate 

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

Because context - even of the sacrilegious kind - is everything, first read Sins of the Father, its Prelude, the Communion, and the Baptism Interlude before you proceed.

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Naughty Girl

Title: Naughty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/n: 🔥🔥 sex, I’m so on fire today, I went all the way with this one, God I really hope you guys like it

Warnings: NSFW, explicit smut

Originally posted by caps-bucky

Your name: submit What is this?


It was almost eleven at night and the after mission party was still going strong, the lights were flashing and the ever so loud electro music was pounding loudly across the tower. You sighed, quickly downing your tequila shot, pushing it over to the bartender, signalling that you wanted another one.

“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine” Natasha commented as she settled into the bar stool beside you , her Mai Tai in hand. “I’m bored, the guys are having so much fun” you replied blandly, gesturing to the men that stood at the other end of the hall, a few shots on the table as they continued with their pool game, the pile of money growing with each lost.

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Casting Call

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Request: Hi! Wanted to request a smut fic with Henry Cavill. With some fluff! I trust the details to you :3

Description: Y/N Visits Henry while filming and and sees him in costume and wants to move the acting into the bedroom. 

Smut: Yes

Words: 1741

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Originally posted by henricavyll

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AOS Fic: and we are home

Originally posted by autumncozy

My response to @goingknowherewastaken‘s birthday challenge. Happy 21st, Katie! <3

McKirk, ‘cause it’s always McKirk.


“Get in, loser,” Nyota smirks through the drivers’ side window.

Jim picks himself up off the dirty curbside, feeling every bit as dejected as he looks.

Ny reads it in his face. “What happened, Jim?” she asks as Jim slides into the passenger seat with a disappointed scowl. “I thought you had enough money not to let this happen to you.”

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ar maidin | alfie solomons

Built around my headcanon that Alfie never goddamn sleeps, someone save this man and bring him some warm milk and a blanket already.

Camden didn’t seem to have a cycle to the day and night so much as it had disorienting, sudden switch-overs. There was the bustle of work in the day, the burst of fun in the evening, the outright chaos of the night. There was never really a lull, except a clear hour before the dawn when everything seemed to stop. Too late for revellers, too early for workers, peace found a home here, nestled up to the buildings and slumbered.

You should have been slumbering too, wrapped up in the outrageously expensive sheets Alfie insisted on but never actually seemed to sleep in. Yet here you were, heels clacking down the damp steps of an illegal distillery.

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Imagine Peter Keeps Trying To Flirt With You

Originally posted by alphalewolf

There She Is

Requested By httpstarlords

Summary: You’re shy and used to minding your own business- and then Peter Quill starts to take an interest in you, and you feel pressured to break free of your very tight shell. 

Warnings: none– there may be some language.

A/N: This one took me a little while to complete, considering that I’ve been at my sisters apartment. Also, this was really funny to listen to when I accidentally did that thing on Pages where you can have the robot read it to you. Just thought you should know. Just cuz.


Peter Quill was the type of man to get what he wanted, so you ignoring and scurrying away from his little comments seemed to only draw him in. You weren’t sure if it was because he was just curious as to why you had turned him down, or if he had just wanted to bother you. Either way, you were very uncomfortable.
It’s not like he makes you feel that way- you just always have, around people in general. You were shy and anxious, used to keeping to the shadows and watching beautiful people like him score with other beautiful people like that Gamora girl.
You sat on a messy old chair in Knowhere, frantically bouncing your knee and biting your lip. There were a lot of people around- and your friend had left you to go off and make some deal with someone who may or may not want to kill her.
It was then when you saw Peter staring at you from a distance- you had visited Knowhere many times before, and he always seemed to know where to find you. You curled up on yourself, trying to become as small as possible. But it was too late, the damage was done. He was approaching you- you, all alone, with no one but yourself to help you through this. Your heart was already racing.
“Funny running into you here, again,” he said, pulling up a chair besides you. You looked down, glancing up at him momentarily as he grew silent. You really just wanted to go home. “You know I’m not gonna stop.”
You jumped at his suddenly serious tone, looking up at him. “Stop what?”
He smirked, leaning against the back of the chair and folding his hands together on his stomach, “trying to get you to go out with me. Come on, one date?”
You squirmed, completely sure that his definition of date was different than yours. You looked down again, sighing. You wished you had the guts to tell him to go away, or, at the very least, that you didn’t want just a fling. You wanted something- something- you wanted something. You weren’t entirely sure what that was, but really, who ever does?
“Alright, fine, have it your way,” he said, biting on his lower lip, “just wondering, is there a reason you’re always so quiet?”
You clamped your lips shut, using your hair to create a curtain between the both of you. You hoped your friend wouldn’t end up dead, because, god, you really needed her.
Peter reached over gently, pushing the curtain of hair behind your ear, leaving his hand on your head for longer than what you deemed sociably acceptable. You shifted in your seat, clenching your jaw and sitting on your hands.
“Are you scared of something?” he asked, scooting closer to you, “scared of me?
You rolled your eyes, glancing up at him again. The smirk on his face made you surprisingly angry, and you huffed, turning away quickly. You would stand up and walk away had your friend been very clear that if you weren’t there when she got back, she’d be leaving without you.
“Come on, tell me something.” Peter begged, sticking out his lower lip, “your name? Where you’re from?”
You weighed your options in your head: ignore him until he goes away, or maybe just humor him. You picked the latter, hoping that your voice didn’t shake as you spoke. “I’m Y/n-“ you said, but stopped once you realized how unstable you sounded. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, holding your breath, nearly devastated.
He chuckled, tilting his head and staring at you with tired eyes, “I’ll take it you’re not from around here, then. But I see you’re here a lot. There a reason for that?”
You pressed your lips into a straight line, focusing your attention on your feet. A wave of insecurity washed over you, making you bite you’re lip a little too hard. You tasted the sweet blood in your mouth, wincing as the embarrassment overcame you.
His smile faded, and watched you curiously, leaning in as you shuddered. “Hey, Y/n? You alright-“
You caught a glimpse of your friend walking towards you in the corner of your eye and stood, hurrying over to her, nearly tripping over yourself the entire time. By the time you reached her, your eyes were bathed in tears, and your breathing was rapid and unsteady.
“What’s going on?” she asked, looking around.
You shook your head, “I don’t know what to say- he just came up-“
“Who did?” she asked, calmly reaching her hand behind her coat, to the gun she had concealed.
“That Peter guy!” you whisper-yelled, calming down only slightly.
She stared at you for a long moment, and then bursted out laughing, her hands falling to her knees. You cringed, shrinking in on yourself. “Him? Why don’t you just say yes already! I’ll bet there are girls and guys lined up to be with him!”
You looked to the floor as if you were getting scolded by a parent, slowly moving your foot back and forth, “I was trying to talk, really I was. But I couldn’t. I’m too-“
She sighed, reaching an arm out and draping it over your shoulder, “it’s okay. You’ll be able to say something eventually. We’ll be back, anyway- stupid guy wasn’t even here.”
You groaned, “great.”

———

The next day you tried your best to hide, but that doesn’t really work when the person you’re hiding from is Starlord.
You bit your lip anxiously as he parted from his pet raccoon and made his way over to you, a determined set to his eyes, and a smirk on his lips.
No, no, no, no, no, please…” you whispered, turning away and hurrying in the other direction. Maybe he’d take the hint. Maybe he’d walk a different way.
You made your way out to a little balcony like thing, standing with your back towards the archway, watching the stars. The twinkling lights sprinkled amongst the backdrop of black always calmed you; perhaps someday you’d shine as much as they do.
“So close,” said a voice from behind you, rapidly approaching, “but you can’t escape a legendary outlaw.”
You sighed, turning slowly towards him, trying to hide the dark blush that spread across your cheeks. “H- hi-“ you struggled.
He smiled, stopping in front of you and leaning down slightly, tilting his head. “Now tell me, what’s a pretty girl like you so afraid of?”
You paled, taking in deep breaths and staring down. You felt his fingers fold around your chin, forcing your gaze upwards and into his eyes. You forgot about your breathing, about your shaking, about control. You gave up these things for the well-known but always agonizing panic that claimed ownership of your mind.
He seemed to notice, his flirty stature dying away, his hands falling, “really, Y/n. God, I hope thats your name. It’d be pretty bad if it isn’t.”
You felt yourself smile a little bit, glancing up at him. You nodded, “it is…”
He smiled a little, “so how about it? How about I show you my ship- it’s pretty sweet.”
You shuddered, unsure of how that situation would really go, because while you were very conservative, you didn’t have the best sense of self-control. And you’d hate to live through the embarrassment of that. And you had a valid excuse- you were probably about to be called to go save your friends ass.
“I-“ he began, just as the little phone in your pocket started buzzing. You clicked it off, looking up and sighing at him.
“Gotta run,” you whispered, your voice cracking, and took off in the direction of your friend. You heard him following you, to see where you were off to, and decided to let him. Maybe he’d get shot- and then you really would never need to worry about him again.
You saw your friend holding her hands up in surrender, three big guys coming in on her. You sighed, Quill coming up behind you and whistling. You pulled out the guns you had hidden on both sides of your belt, moving quickly to your friends side.
“Alright,” she said, “I suggest you let me go, or get your heads blown off by the best shot in the galaxy!”
You paled at the exaggeration, but held your strong stance as they continued advancing. You charged up the lasers, clenching your jaw and listening for Peter behind you. You could feel his eyes boring holes into your back, but you kept staring forward, avoiding eye contact with the giants.
“Fine, then! Have it your way!” she shouted, drawing a crowd. “Fire!
You finished charging up the lasers with a satisfying buzz, shooting one guy as the others began to scramble. You avoided a shot with a roll in one direction, landing on one knee and firing towards the source of the laser. You found the other guy standing firm with a giant gun trained on you, and took a deep breath as you charged up your phasers one final time.
And then something happened- Peter jumped in front of you, a strange mask covering his face, guns blazing. The man fell down within a few hits, his gun hitting the floor with a very loud bang. It was almost comical.
“Ah,” your friend said, squeezing your shoulder, “those weren’t event the guys I needed.”
You sighed, tucking your weapons away and glancing at her, “nice.” You turned to walk away, your fists clenching and unclenching. You heard Peter following you again.
“Hey!” he said, hurrying to your side, “that was amazing- what are you, some kind of ninja or assassin or something?”
You bit your lip, turning to look at him, “no.”
He stared down at you, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “Oh- okay- so, about coming along with me-“
You shook your head, hurrying up onto your friends ship, closing the door behind you and sinking to the ground. You wanted to say yes. But you were too afraid.
Sure, take a few lives, no problem. Save your best friend, no problem. Say yes to a date with the guy who was easily the hottest in the universe- don’t even try.

——-

You stayed on the ship for longer than you had to the next day. Your friend had dragged you out of bed, saying that today was probably the last day you’d be stuck here, getting chased around by Peter.
“I wanna say yes, but-”
She groaned, pulling you up and out of bed angrily, “then just say yes! So you’re a little quiet when he takes you out, but you’ll get used to him eventually!”
You shifted uncomfortably, sighing, “I wish it were that easy, but every time I look at him, I can’t breathe, and I get so nervous I start to shake and sweat and run and-“
She laughed, shaking you by the shoulders, “because you like him, you idiot! So go out there today, and when he finds you, because he will find you, just go with him to the ship!”
You bit your lip, nodding shamefully, “okay, I guess…”
So you sat in wait for two hours, watching people pass by, losing your confidence by the second. Then finally, in the corner of your eye, you saw that red jacket, and jumped up. You didn’t want to approach him, but you weren’t sure he noticed you there. You decided you’d walk past; maybe he’d try and get your attention. You stuffed your hands in your pockets, putting your head down, and trying your best to blend in with the crowd while still being visible to him.
Come on, Star-idiot.” you whispered, furrowing your eyebrows. You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, just that you were going to keep walking straight until you ran into something or got beat up by a gang of intergalactic thugs.
“Hey! Y/n!” he yelled, and you sighed, stopping short just as you neared a suspicious looking group of men and women.
You turned on your heel, trying to smile. “Yes?” you asked lightly, almost inaudibly.
“I’ve been looking for you- about yesterday- wow.” he said, shaking his head and laughing, “I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as that kind of girl.”
You shrugged, someone bumping into you and pushing you forward. You struggled to get your hands out of your pockets, landing hard against Peter’s chest. You winced, hurrying to back away, “sorry, sorry, I-“
He smiled, reaching out and holding onto you as you tried to steady yourself, “I think thats the most I’ve ever heard your voice before. Do it again.”
You sighed, wishing he would just ask you out already. You were dreading saying yes and following him back to his ship. “I don’t… know what to say?”
He smiled wider, winking at you, “there she is.”
You bit your lip, turning your eyes away from his face.
“Come on,” he said, and you sighed in relief, “let me show you my ship. Please.”
You nodded, reaching a hand out to grab his arm so you wouldn’t get separated in the sudden rush around you. Halfway there, a man resembling one of the ones from the previous day came out of nowhere, hurrying towards you and pushing you away from Peter.
“Hey!” he shouted, hurrying after you.
The mans hands were wrapped firmly around your neck, pushing you back further still, until you were out of the crowd of people. “Let- me- go-” you choked, pulling down on his thumbs, struggling to keep your feet under you.
He growled, tightening his grip. And then, all of a sudden, a hand appeared on his beefy shoulder, spinning him around and punching him.
“Peter!” you shrieked, backing away to catch your breath. You reached under your jacket to get your gun, but quickly stopped as the man stalked away, grumbling about something in a different language.
Peter smiled, offering you his arm again, “now we have a real reason to get back to my ship. Let’s clean you up a little, yeah?”
You blushed, wrapping one hand around his bicep while the other wiped at the blood gathered by your lips. “Okay.”

———

The ship was a decent size- had a little ladder for different levels, a nice control pannel, decent sitting, though it was kind of a mess.
“This baby has been with me through thick and thin,” he said happily, patting the wall. You smiled, looking around with wide eyes.
“It’s kind of messy…” you said gently, trailing your fingers along different drawers.
He smiled, “yeah, and if I had a-“
“Well look who Peter finally brought home.” someone said, and when you turned to look around you were surprised to see no one there. “Down here, kid.”
You blushed, looking down at the small raccoon.
“Rocket- man- come on-“ Peter tried, sighing and rolling his eyes.
Rocket held up a hand- or… paw- and winked at you, “I thought you’d never do it, Quill. Congratulations.”
You clenched your jaw, trying to steady your breathing. “Wh.. what?
Rocket nodded to you, “looks like Groot won that pool.”
Peter’s expression sunk, and he shook his head, “Rocket, go.”
You shook your head angrily, tears welling up in your eyes. So it was a game. You pushed past Peter and Rocket, making your way outside and back into the crowds. Hurt spread through you, even though you knew you had hardly any reason to be upset at all. You barely knew him- so why did get yourself so worked up about it?
You hadn’t realized that you stopped walking once you reached the outside of the ship, just standing there and staring into the crowd mindlessly.
Peter followed after you, turning you towards him and staring into your eyes angrily, “nothing he said was true, and if it was, I had no part in it. Any of it.”
Your lips fell agape, and you wanted so desperately to turn and run away. You looked at him, feeling as though there was steam coming from your ears. “This is what I was afraid of!” you yelled, overcome with anger.
He raised his eyebrows, taken aback by your sudden unexpected outburst. “Hey- hey-“ he reached out to you, raising one hand in surrender.
“Don’t touch me!” you cried, slapping his hand away, “you should’ve just left me alone!” You turned to move away, your eyes stinging. You were beginning to make a scene.
He sighed, following after you, “come on, give me one more chance. One more.”
You turned back to him, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands, “for what? I barely gave you a first chance and you messed it up!”
“I didn’t mess it up! It was them- them!
You let out a quiet sob, looking back down to the ground. “Yeah,” you said in a whisper.
He frowned, placing his fingers under your chin and lifting your head up, locking his eyes with yours, “what they did- that’s not me. Well, not in situations like these… Listen, I like you, Y/n, I really do. And seeing you sitting there, alone, I don’t know, something came over me, and I just… It was like I-“
You laughed a little, seeing as he tried to come up with a corny way to explain himself. “Okay,” you said, staring up at him, placing one hand on his chest, “I guess I could… give you another chance…”
He smiled, “re- really?”
You nodded, and stood on your toes, placing a gentle kiss to his lips before turning back to his ship, “well, come on, then. Show me around?” Your voice was still low, but you were getting better at forcing the words out now.
“Yeah-“ he said, “yeah! Come on.” He locked his hand with yours- warm, calloused, him. You smiled.
Peter Quill was the type of man to get what he wanted, but apparently, he didn’t get everything handed to him on a silver platter.
At least, that’s not how he got you.
Lowkey ∾ archie andrews

posted 4/6/17

request? yes
   “ I loved your Archie headcanon so much! Please do where Archie and the reader are dating but it’s lowkey so when Reggie keeps flirting with her during a game Archie gets mad and then announces that he’s dating you publicly & everyone ships it a hundred percent? Sorry if this is asking for a lot, but it would be greatly appreciated! xx ” -
anon

pairing(s): archie x reader , reggie x reader

warnings: juggie isn’t in this. sorry friends + some really crappy writing

a/n: thank you for the request !! there’s a part in the imagine where i just made up a teacher for the purpose for the story & just to clarify, there is no teacher in riverdale with that actual name :)

words; 1k+


“Archie. We gotta go.” you mumble as you push Archie Andrews, your secret boyfriend, off of you. “Just a couple more minutes. Please?” Archie begs, pecking your lips.

“Class is starting in 5 minutes. We gotta go.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being late.”

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Mr. Byun

Originally posted by galaxychen


A/N: …yeah, Baekhyun is actually ruining my life.

These drabbles will be painfully short and very bad. I just need to get out my Baeky feels before I get back to reaction request and the ongoing series. 

*sigh* Pray for me

Edit: I though this would be a drabble but its not. Why is it so long? Imma just say its a long drabble.

~Admin Allie

You hated your job. The only good side of it was that you got paid way too much money for it. 

You were a waitress/hostess/bartender at a very high profile restaurant. And high profile is putting it lightly; no one but the most popular artist, actors and business people rolled through. Some were there for business meetings, some for fun and other to take out their secret lovers. 

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Eleven Years

Pairing: Jikook

Length: Oneshot, 2.2k

Description: For Jikook Fluff Week Wedding Wednesday ft. Tender Talk Tuesday. Jungkook has been in love with Jimin since he was eleven.

OR

“Hyung, what if I told you…I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven?” There’s no hidden meaning behind his words. The genuine curiosity shows in the slight inflection in his question.

Jimin pauses to think for a second before answering, “Then I’d just say I’d love you for the next eleven years and beyond to make up for lost time.”

Crossposted on AO3

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Scotham: Episode III

Scotham started as naught but a wee one-shot Batman-rip-off crackfic for thewhitelady  for Outlander’s Fic Secret Santa 2016! However, somewhere along the way, I fell in love with the concept of a Vigilante AU.  

And such was born MacDubh + Assassinach fighting the vile Reds in Scotham city. 

Fair warning: This is meant to be silly, so SUPERHERO TROPES ABOUND.

Fair warning: I WILL NOT BE UPDATING THIS FREQUENTLY

((but it isn’t going away, either :D))

Episode I  Episode II 



Episode III 

“You have to enter your super-secret safe house… through a wheelie bin?”

The key-code had just revealed the dark staircase within, and Claire was staring at it as though at—well, at a filthy dumpster in a dark alley in the middle of the night. Which it was. 

Even with her mask on, her look of disgust was so intense, Jamie couldn’t help but grin. “Only because you’re here, Sassenach.” He led the way, crouching through the low door, and she reluctantly followed him.  

Once the door was shut behind them, the illuminated panels of his suit showed her face still skeptical, though with a clear strain of amusement.  “So…you give all your lady callers this kind of star treatment, Mac?”

He shrugged and gestured for her to follow him down the narrow stairs. “Never had a lady caller here. Honest!” he protested as she snorted in disbelief. “And besides, when I’m alone, I use this.” He tapped his wrist in indication.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, you have a….? That’s remarkable!” she exclaimed, grabbing his wrist as they reached the first landing.  “How in the world do you have access to portable teleporters?” she demanded as she examined the thing in awe. “Must cost a bloody fortune!”

“The Reds have plenty of guns,” he said, as they descended deep under the city, “and hordes of officials in their pocket, forbye, but we far outstrip them in terms of access to new tech. My Uncle Dougal has a team dedicated to churning out useful stuff for the Resistance, at cost. You’ll meet the lot in just a moment and they’ll show you just what we’ve got in our arsenal.”

They stopped at the bottom of the steps to grab bottled waters from the refrigerated cache. Claire drank hers gratefully looking tired— it was after midnight, after all, and they had had a strenuous ordeal. “We’ve got a fair stretch of tunnel to get through before we reach HQ,” he said, indicating the long passage through the door, illuminated by dim, green light. “All flat, but perhaps a mile. Think ye can manage, lass?”

She only scoffed and shoved him out of the way to sprint down the corridor.

God, Jamie thought, eyes and feet momentarily riveted, I could watch her outstrip me all. day. long.

Dinna be disgusting, he chided himself a moment later, jogging for a few dozen yards to catch up with her before matching her stride. “You’re quite fast, Sassenach.”

She slowed to a brisk walk and took another long draft of water. “Ought to be, with eight years of track and field as a kid.”

“Oh, aye?” He could see that. She had the lean build for it. “Win lots of medals?”

“My dad always said, ‘Claire, sweetheart, you *might* let some of the other runners have a turn at winning every now and again!’”

“Let me guess:  taking second place out of pity wasna quite your style.”

“You wager correctly,” she laughed. “Run ‘em into the ground, was more my motto.” She took off her mask in stride and rubbed her face in relief. “Oof, I’ll tell you what though, it is NO FUN running and working up a sweat in all this leather.”

“Aye, as fetching as your getup is, we’ve got to get ye a proper suit, lass. Something bulletproof, for starters.”

“Alright, then,” she grinned, “as long as it isn’t PLAID.”

“If it were, I’d see ye in court over it! Tis my trademark!” He removed his own PLAID mask and gloves, stretching his fingers absently as he grinned at her. “Canna have ye mucking up my personal brand, now can I?”

“Oh!” she said suddenly, halting to look at the hand he was rubbing. “Is that a ruby?”

“Aye,” he confirmed, stopping too and handing the ring to her for inspection. “'Twas my father’s.”

“It’s beautifully made…” Her whisky-colored eyes were alight as she turned it tenderly in her fingers. “Gorgeous…..”

“Been in our family for many generations. It was one of the few earthly possessions Da truly treasured.”

She looked up at him, eyebrows drawn. “Treasur/ed/….Is….Did he…?”

He hesitated only a moment. “Aye. He and my mother, both. She in a car accident when I was small; Da, when…”

He couldn’t speak of that day. Not yet.

He cleared his throat. “A stroke. I was sixteen.”

“I’m…so sorry.”

As fierce as she was in battle, as biting and vicious as she tended to be with her words, there was nothing in Claire in that moment but…love.

He shook his head to rid himself of that fool notion, but looked down to see her hand wrapped around his. It was small and warm, strong. He squeezed it and met her eye. “Thank you, Sassenach.”

After a moment, she brought their joined hands upward and slipped the ring back on his finger. Was it his imagination, or did she seem reluctant to let go?

She did, though, and resumed her brisk pace down the corridor.

Strange…horrible?…..shameful?….that in six words and a simple touch, he felt closer to Claire than he ever had with Annalise.

Aye….shameful. When he could still remember the weight of her dead body in his arms on the ground. Still remember the way her sky eyes stared upward, unseeing as the murder and chaos thronged pitilessly around them.

Shameful, Jamie.

But the truth.

“Did you play any sport yourself as a youngster?” Her jovial, joking tone was back, and he was grateful for the gift of easy distraction. 

“Oh, aye, a bit of shinty and rugby at school.”

“Were you any good?” she demanded, eyes glinting.

He tried to look modest. “Not bad.”

“Good enough to… CATCH ME?”

She set off at a lightning-fast sprint again before Jamie could blink. “CHEATER!” he called after her, laughing, trying to catch up. She was so fast he could barely make her out in the dim light ahead. “LEFT!” he yelled as she nearly missed the turning. “THE LEFT PASSAGE!”

She veered left and flashed him a taunting grin over her shoulder as she disappeared from view. It was only a few seconds before he reached the turning himself, but damn she was fast. He put on a fresh burst of speed

then heard her scream

and heard her body hit the ground.

He knew he was running, faster than he’d ever run before, each footfall screaming to him, FASTER.

He knew his dirk was in his hand, and he was screaming for her. He knew she was there, under attack.

FASTER

Claire.

FASTER

Standing in the green haze, her back to him, legs spread as if ready to dive.

FASTER

A wavegun blast barreling out of the darkness, the blue energy slamming into her with such force she fell to one knee with a great, gritted yell of pain and anger.

FASTER

Back on her feet.

FASTER

Another blast .

FASTER

Another cry

FASTER

In the dim light beyond her, the fast-approaching shape of—

“UNCLE!” his own disembodied voice was screaming, “S T O P !”

FASTER

Dougal mere feet away from her now, knife in one hand and blaster in the other

F A S T E R

Claire crouching lightning-fast and kicking him hard in the kneecap

Dougal grabbing her by the shoulders and flinging her hard onto the ground

F A S —

Dougal pointing the blaster down at her head

“NO!”

Jamie collided hard with his uncle, knocking the shooting arm so the blast hit the far wall. He had the bastard pinned on the ground and was screaming down at him in Gaelic, completely overtaken by blood-red rage; then a sharp WHIZZ-WHIZZ and his orientation spun, feeling his body tumbling and heaving in midair, flying; and then his forehead collided hard with something solid and everything went black.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, but even so, he awoke disoriented, his vision blurred and searing pain gripping his wrists. He found he couldn’t move and he blinked, realizing with a jolt of fury that he was pinned face-first to the wall with a set of Dougal’s telekinetic cuffs that kept his wrists trapped high over his head.

He jerked and struggled against the restraints, his head blinding with pain as he confronted wildly over his shoulder. “CLAIRE?”

Dougal had one of his cuffs on her too, pinning her to the opposite wall by her throat. Her toes barely touched the floor, and she was struggling hard to breathe, scream, kick out, anything.

“DOUGAL! LET HER GO!” he screamed.

“I never have fucking believed it,” Dougal growled lethally, his knife and eyes never leaving Claire. “Never thought I’d live to see my own blood raise a hand to me in defense of a filthy Sassenach, in our own house.”

“She’s on our SIDE, Dougal!” he cried, trying to turn around to face the bastard directly, but the cuffs prevented it. “For the love of God, let her down, and I’ll explain everything!”

“On our side?” Dougal snarled and Jamie barely had time to cry out before Dougal’s knife flashed downward and Claire screamed in excruciating pain

Never had Jamie felt so helpless. Not even on the day of the Cull, as he watched Annalise and so many others die.

He was screaming out her name, feeling the cuffs drawing blood as he struggled to free himself, to reach her—

And then Dougal was walking toward him. Over Dougal’s shoulder, Jamie could just see Claire, paler than he thought possible, blood spilling freely from collarbone to shoulder. Dougal had not gone for the kill it seemed, but had cut out a large strip of Claire’s suit from the high collar to her left shoulder, taking no heed for her safety and leaving a long gash as he went. Dougal held this strip in his hands as he drew nearer.

“Claire! Sassenach, CHRIST, are ye—”

Of course she wasn’t alright. She couldn’t even reply; could barely touch the ground, and struggling as she was to get high enough above the cuff to breathe, every movement pulled on the wound and gave her more pain. She would pass out, in a moment; and if the knife had nicked an artery, she would—

Jamie struggled furiously against his own bonds, seething at Dougal. “Dougal— for fuck’s sake, release her before you KILL HER. She’s on OUR SIDE!!”

Dougal ignored this, and raised the strip of leather, dripping with Claire’s blood, shaking with Dougal’s own rage, in Jamie’s face “A Sassenach wearing RED is on our side, aye?”

“She’s Claire Beauchamp,” Jamie spat through his teeth, his fury blocking his ability to speak more clearly. “Claire Beauchamp.”  

“EXACTLY,” Dougal bellowed, “Fiancée to FRANK RANDALL. THAT name ring any bells?”

It was as if someone had shoved a ball of hot lead down Jamie’s throat. 

Fiancée.

Even through her restraints, even hurt and weakening as she was, she shook her head fiercely at Jamie. but before she could even attempt to speak, Dougal tele-released the collar so that she fell hard to the ground. To her credit, she moved fast to scrabble to her feet but Dougal strode over and knocked her flat, putting his huge boot on her neck. He leaned forward to put more weight on it and she gave a gurgling scream of pain and panic.

“UNCLE” Jamie bellowed, but he was totally and completely helpless in Dougal’s restraints. “LAY ANOTHER HAND ON HER, AND I SWEAR, I’LL—”

“What’ll ye do, pup? What, eh?” Dougal’s voice was low and quiet. Confident and unfeeling. He pointed the knife down at her, keeping Jamie’s eye. “I could slit her throat right now…. and ye couldna do a thing to stop it.”

Claire was crying but her eyes were closed, her lips closed tight together. She wouldn’t cry out again, if this were the end.

Jamie was begging, now, tears flowing freely and teeth gritted. “For the sake of my mother, your sister, you’ll let this woman leave. FOR ELLEN!”

Silence reigned for a long, long time, save for Jamie’s whispered. “Please….please….”

At last, Dougal removed the boot. He leaned down and snarled quietly in her face. “Get. Out. And if I ever see ye again… I WILL cut your throat, Sassenach bitch.”

She got shakily to her feet. She was bleeding profusely from the shoulder and there was a fresh trickle of blood running from her hairline down to her jaw. Claire’s throat was so damaged from Dougal’s mistreatment she could barely produce sound, but she glared fiercely at Dougal and mouthed furiously with the hint of a hoarse whisper.  “FUCK….YOU….

And with not a glance at Jamie, she turned and ran limping back up the passage from whence they’d come.

Jamie tried to call after her, but Dougal took that moment to release the fetters and punch Jamie hard in the stomach as he fell. 

“Uncle….” he wheezed, as he got laboriously to his feet. “What the fuck—s’matter with—”

“Wi’ ME? “ He shoved Jamie hard against the wall. “What is the matter with YOU! How FUCKING dare you, Jamie!”

“She IS on our side, Uncle,” Jamie snarled. “I’ll stake my own life against it, and will stand as surety for all her actions.”  

“Our side,” Dougal spat derisively, retracting his foul tools with the press of a button on his forearm and kicking the strip of leather on the ground with disgust.

“The….the red suit was a poor choice, I’ll grant you,” Jamie said faintly, still seething, but feeling now as though he would be sick, seeing the limp hide on the ground, oozing with Claire’s blood. He gritted his teeth and said more boldly. “I reacted much the same way when I encountered her tonight— nearly throttled her myself, but ye didna give her a chance to speak her piece, man! She’s a true believer in our cause, Dougal—the Reds murdered her parents.”

“And yet she’s content to remain engaged to the nephew of the son of a bitch that probably gave the order? The son of a bitch responsible for your Da as well?”  

Engaged.

Buck the fucking hell up, Jamie, you’ve known her for a few hours—you’ve no cause whatsoever to feel—

But RANDALL—of all the goddamn pricks in this city, she had to choose the one whose uncle—

He clenched his fists, speaking with more confidence than he felt. “I TRUST her, Dougal.”

“So you’ll place a Sassenach above your own flesh and blood? Your own blood that practically raised you?”

“Ye trained me, Dougal. My parents raised me…Thank God, they raised me to be a better man than you.”

Dougal raised a hand as though to strike him, but then lowered it and turned his back, speaking gruffly. “Get changed, lad. Your auntie’s kept Christmas Eve dinner late for ye, and we’re going to—”

But Jamie was already striding fast back up the corridor.

“You’re no’ going after that Sassenach whore, Jamie,” came Dougal’s voice, sharp and threatening.

“She’s no’ a whore,” he spat over his shoulder, not slowing.

He heard the whiz behind him but this time, he was ready. The cuff sliced in two against his raised dirk as he whirled.  

He lowered the blade just enough to level it at Dougal.

“Use your goddamned contraptions against me again, Uncle, and it’s your own throat that’ll need watching.”  


[to be continued. someday.] 

aurora under the ice, pt. 2

Voeld lives up to its harsh reputation, and Saskia and Jaal are stuck in a cave alone to wait out a storm. Jaalmance, pre-relationship (ao3 link)
previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Once, when Saskia had just started school on her own, cast adrift from Lukas after spending their whole lives attached at the hip and feeling thoroughly alone, she had worked up the courage to attend one of those awkward freshman mixers at the start of her first semester at Columbia. Young kids, all of them eager to be out of their parents’ houses, ready to mingle and meet new people and start their lives as adults, and all of them apparently ready to drink themselves under the table to do it.

Courage aided by Lukas’ threat, of course, that he would drop out of Alliance training and frog-march her to a party himself. He would require pictures by midnight, or he was on the first flight to New York, no arguments. He’d done more for less of a reason, and somewhere, deep down, she’d agreed with him. She’d spent the past two years doing nothing but sitting or shuffling through a nearly empty house like a ghost, taking apart every electronic object she could find while her body healed.

But she hadn’t done much socializing during her convalescence. Not that she’d wanted to, obviously. She’d never particularly wanted to meet new people. But now that she was up on her feet and healthy enough to attend school without her nursemaid of a twin hovering over her shoulder, she’d thought she should try.

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Wonderwall (1/4)

[AU: We were high school rivals. Now it’s our 20 year reunion and I think you’re absurdly good looking and very charming. Shoutout to @shefollowedfires for her beta skills.]

on Ao3

Abby looked around the room, her eyes scanning the crowd of late 30 somethings gathered at tables and crowded at the bar. The last few bars of a Gin Blossoms song faded out, quickly replaced by the opening notes of Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic.” The corners of her mouth tugged up slightly.

“See?” Callie said, smiling at Abby over the rim of her wine glass. “You’re having fun already.”

She raised her eyebrow.

“This song makes me feel nostalgic. I wouldn’t exactly call that having fun.”

“C’mon, Abby,” Callie said, nudging Abby with her shoulder, “there are cheap drinks, good music and you’re in great company.” She smiled widely before she took a long sip of her drink. “Plus, this is the easiest place for you to break your streak.”

Abby sighed.

“Not this again.”

Callie set down her drink.

“Abby, you’ve been in this self-imposed celibacy for three years. It’s time. Consider this your opportunity put yourself back out there.”

Abby shook her head as she gestured to the throng of people around the room.

“How is this the place to jump back in? Everyone was basically married at the ten year reunion.”

Callie huffed in disbelief.

“Yeah, and now it’s been ten more years. I can basically guarantee you that more than half of those people are divorced.” She picked up her glass and took a drink before continuing. “Actually, I can guarantee it because I Facebook stalked everyone who rsvp’d yes to the Facebook invite.”

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