i'm sorry this part just makes me want to throw up from laughing every time

What I’m Proudest Of


Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: You were his Eliza.

Note: (uses super vague summary so you have to go into this disaster fic BLIND) So, essentially I’m a monster and this is the outcome to that but @letsgiggletogether ENCOURAGED IT SO BLAME HER TOO.

Word Count: 4,247 (distant screaming)


2 years before

“Babe, have you seen my journal?”

“Lin, I can see at least five journals from where I’m standing and three of them are definitely yours,” you snorted as you watched him scurry around the apartment.

“Okay, fair enough,” he said. “But like, I need it.”

“It’s the Eliza one, isn’t it?” you asked knowingly.

“Maybe,” he looked at you sheepishly.

“Last I saw it was in the pantry, god knows why,” you laughed.

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theextremedunhun  asked:

Can you do "I'm pregnant" with Josh's baby please? I feel like I could've wrote that better but it's 3am sorry. And it's fine to ignore lol

Originally posted by cottoncandyjoshdun

A/N -  There is smut in this. I never put these but since some people do not like Josh Dun smut I will put a little warning on these now.
Thank you. 

Their tour had come to an end and finally Josh was able to take a few days completely off before starting their rehearsals and brain storming for the new album.
His first night home consisted of a lot of sleep, actually he pretty much slept the whole day. Today we were going to go out with a few friends for lunch and then just relax at home together, which is the part I really couldn’t wait for.
Josh had walked out of the shower with just a towel around his waist, his body still covered in droplets of water.

“Why?” I laugh at him from the bed.

“Why what?” He throws me a confused look.

“Why don’t you ever dry off?” I stand up and grab a small towel from the bathroom and run it over his shoulders and down his back.

He turns to face me and I run the towel over his chest and he hands wrap around my waist, he places a kiss against my forehead and presses his hips to mine. I bite in my lower lip as I feel his member against me, I reach my arms around his neck and kiss him again.
His hands are quickly making their way up my shirt and out lips separate just for my shirt to slip over my head. His teeth bite into my bottom lip and I can’t help but let out a small moan.
His hands grip my waist tighter and my nails dig into his shoulders as his tongue rolls over mine and our breathing picks up.
He takes a few steps and I shuffle my feet backwards until the backs of my legs hit the bed and I fall back on it.

“I misses you so much.” His voice is low as he groans.

He unbuttons my pants and pulls everything off and throws it behind him, I can clearly see his erection through the towel and I feel my core ache.

“I missed you too, daddy.” I give him a smile as I finish the sentence.

He runs his tongue over his lips and drops his towel at the end of the bed, he positions himself on top of me and his hand dips between my legs.
His fingers run gently on my inner thigh, trailing so close and I groan every time he runs them back down my thigh.

“Are you wet for me baby?” He whispers in my ear, “Because I want you dripping.” He gently bites my neck.

I moan and arch my back, his fingers glide up and down my slit and he lets out a groan of his own, he brings his fingers to my lips and I part them with a smile as he glides them in and I twirl my tongue around them.

He pulls his fingers out of my mouth, “You always have me dripping.” I laugh out.

He presses his lips to mine with a smile and I bite on his bottom lip, I feel his tip at my entrance and I bite a little harder.
He groans and I let go of his lip, he grabs onto my hands and holds them above my head as he presses himself into me. My back arches against his hold and I let out a moan louder than expected.
He finds his pace and he lets out his own string of grunts and moans with each thrust.
His arm that is holding my hands flexes with every thrust while his tattooed arm is holding himself up. His shoulders are tensed and all I want to do is touch him, every part of him. I pull my hands down but it only causes him to add more pressure and thrust into my harder.
I scream out his name and his head falls forward with a low growl.

“Shit!” he moans, he lets go of my hands and quickly moves his hand to my clit.

I bring his face to mine and kiss him, I moan into his mouth and rake my nails down his back which he responds to with a string of curse words.
My stomach begins tighten and I know he feels it, he keeps his pace going and my legs begin to shake as they wrap around his waist.
My nails dig into his shoulders until we both come down from our high.
He rolls off me and holds his arm out for me to come closer, I scoot into him and rest my head on his chest.
The pounding of his heart matches mine and we lay there in silence for a few moments as we catch out breath.

“I love you.” I whisper and kiss his chest.

He brushes my hair out of my face and runs his fingers up and down my arm, “I love you baby girl.”

It has been over two months since Josh has been home, the boys have been working pretty hard on the new album as well as interviews and side shows here and there.
We both know another tour will be coming up sooner than I want so we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other, which I don’t mind at all.
These past two week have kept up pretty calm though, I have been constantly sick and Josh has tried just about everything to make me feel better but sometimes the smell of something makes me puke for five minutes straight.

It was a Friday afternoon and Josh was out with Tyler, I had gotten up and made myself a piece of toast and went back to bed. I was laying awake curled into a ball when the thought finally crossed my mind.
I got out of bed too fast and had to run to the bathroom, I brushed my teeth again and went downstairs and jumped in my car.
I wanted to drive fast but I knew the motions would only make it worse, as soon as I pulled up to the store I ran in and bought about $60 of the same thing.
I got back in my car and threw my car in park once I was in front of the house. I groaned walking back up the stairs but once I finally made it I locked myself in the bathroom and dumped out four different kinds of pregnancy tests.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t.” I repeat to myself over and over as I open all four boxes.

I follow the directions carefully for each brand and set them on the counter, I sit on the bathroom floor and wait.
I grab all four tests and curl up into a tighter ball, my chest hurts and I can’t even hold back the tears.

“He is going to be so mad. How could we be so stupid! Why am I so stupid!” I cry into the tile floor.

I hear the front door open downstairs and Josh calls out my name, I quickly wipe my face and throw the boxes and tests in a towel under the cabinets. I make sure a towel is out just in case he was going to shower, I make sure I didn’t leave anything behind and quickly get in the bed and cover up my entire face.

Josh comes in the room and places a soft kiss on the top on my head and whispers, “I love you, I’ll be back soon and I’ll text you this because you’re sleeping.”

Once I hear the door close the sobs start again, I wrap my arm around my stomach and I can’t help but think of all the reasons this will end us.

I fall asleep but wake up close to 2 am, I look over and Josh is sound asleep wrapped in the blankets. The heart wrenching feeling comes tumbling back and I try to quiet the cries, it seems impossible so I get up and head into the bathroom.
I pull the towel out from under the cabinet and stare at all four positive tests.

“Babe?” I hear Josh shuffle out of the bed and I wrap the towel back up. He opens the door and quickly comes and wraps his arms around me, “What’s going on? Are you ok? What happened?”

He pulls me in closer and the tears start flowing more than before, I can’t think of the words and I don’t know how else to tell him. I open up the towel and let the tests and boxes fall to the tile. I push him away and bring my knees to my chest and rest my head against them.

“I’m sorry. This is all messed up, this wasn’t supposed to happen!” I cry out, I lift my head and look at his shocked face, “I’m pregnant!” I scream out in tears.

Josh comes back to my side and hugs me tightly, “This isn’t the end of the world baby, it’s more like the start of a whole new one. Please, don’t be sorry. This isn’t a one mans job, it takes two and I plan on being there for all of this and everything after this and I plan to do it by your side.” His kisses the side of my head.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, I don’t know what to say since I was expecting a completely different response.

“Do no be sorry for this. I am not upset in the slightest. At the moment I am shocked but by morning I promise it will be all excitement. There is no one else in this world that I would rather start a family with. Know that and believe that.”

I curl into him, he hums a melody to calm me down. My mind starts to feel at ease and I lock my fingers in with his.
We fall asleep there, on the bathroom floor with four positive pregnancy tests spread out on the floor.

anonymous asked:


(Okay let me first say AUs in which any of les amis are royalty weird me out since, yknow, monarchy, so let’s assume Enjolras happened to be born the crown prince of Camelot and absolutely hates it and is determined to dissolve the whole notion of a kingdom when he’s supposed to ascend to the throne or something like that)


We all know how the story goes: everyone hates the current king for his ban on magic throughout Camelot. Enter Grantaire, a powerful (though he doesn’t realize it) wizard new to the kingdom who hates the king for the exact same reason, and his son by extension. 

A vengeful witch tries to kill Enjolras. Grantaire saves his life, though he doesn’t understand why at the time. The king makes Grantaire Enjolras’ manservant as a ‘reward’.

They can’t stand each other at first. Grantaire’s never been that well-off, and he’s uncomfortable in a ridiculously lavish place like the castle. He throws snark at Enjolras every time he’s forced to dress him or pull his bath water or whatever. Enjolras, for his part, hates Grantaire’s attitude and snaps back every time he prods, saying things like ‘the size of my bed/stable/army is beyond my control’.

The Great Dragon tells him it’s his destiny to protect Enjolras and stay by his side. ‘Two sides of the same coin’, the Dragon calls them. Grantaire wants to serve Enjolras even less, after that.

Then he starts to notice things. The sparseness of Enjolras’ chambers compared to the other rooms in the castle. Enjolras paying the merchants for far more than their goods cost, then distributing it to the children of the town. His camaraderie with many of Camelot’s knights, yet his disdain towards the ones who talk down on the poor. Arguments that happen between Enjolras and his father behind closed doors while Grantaire stands outside (”No one person should be allowed to decide who lives or dies!” “It’s the way we’ve lived for centuries.” “Then the way we live must be changed. When I become king…”).

Grantaire sees a glimmer of hope through Enjolras. Maybe, just maybe, he’s someone who could change Camelot for the better.

Grantaire stops complaining about having to prepare Enjolras’ breakfast or polish his armour, even after Enjolras says he doesn’t have to. Grantaire tells himself he’s only doing it because it takes no effort with his magic. 

If it were up to Enjolras, he wouldn’t have a manservant, but he can’t bring himself to tell Grantaire to leave. He doesn’t understand why–Grantaire is loud, insufferable, pessimistic, and often shows up late in the morning reeking of the town’s tavern. 

But sometimes Enjolras catches a glimmer in Grantaire’s eyes. When he’s reading, or caring for Enjolras’ horse, or when he’s laughing with the knights on the training grounds. The grass seems to stand up taller where Grantaire walks through it. Enjolras knows that’s a ridiculous notion. 

One day, Camelot is swept up in a mysterious drought that left it with barely any water and food (hint: it was magic). Enjolras steals the food that the king has been hoarding away in the castle stores and distributes it to the people. 

It’s the same day Grantaire realizes he now has two secrets to keep: that he’s a sorcerer, and that he loves Enjolras.

Another day, a great beast which seems impervious to Enjolras and his knights’ attacks (hint: it was magical) knocks Enjolras unconscious on his back. When he comes to, it’s only to see an armourless, weaponless Grantaire standing alone in front of the slain beast. Grantaire’s eyes are golden when he turns around and fixes them on Enjolras. 

It’s strange. He could swear on the life of every citizen in Camelot that Grantaire’s eyes are a deep brown.

“Do you permit it?” Grantaire keeps asking Enjolras. He asks when he wants to leave the castle, or assist one of the knights, or borrow a book. Enjolras tells him he doesn’t need to ask for permission to do anything. Grantaire is his own person, after all. Not that Enjolras could refuse him anyway. Still, Grantaire keeps asking. 

“Do you permit it?” he asks, with a roll of his eyes, when Enjolras asks where he’s going. He’s only going back to his own chambers. Enjolras reddens. 

“Do you permit it?” he asks, shyly, holding a tunic that Enjolras has gifted him for his birthday (which Enjolras went through a lot of trouble to discover). 

“Do you permit it?” he asks, with thinly veiled panic behind his eyes as he holds a letter from his mother with shaking hands. He needs to return to his hometown for a while. Enjolras never wants to see that look on him again.

“Do you permit it?” he asks one day, when he stands beside Enjolras as a dozen archers aim their arrows at him. Enjolras takes his hand and smiles. He wishes they had more time together.

They aren’t shot. As if propelled by an invisible force, all the archers are knocked off their feet and their bows broken. Grantaire holds his free hand towards them. His eyes are golden. It’s all the confession Enjolras needs.

“Do you permit it?” he asks, wanting permission to leave Enjolras’ service. They avoided each other for a week after the incident. Grantaire’s use of magic broke Camelot’s highest law, which Enjolras hates. He doesn’t understand why Grantaire wants to leave. The thought makes his heart clench. 

Enjolras permits it, on the condition that Grantaire stay by his side. It’s not an order, but a plea. No one should be forced to live in the servitude of another, after all, least of all someone like Grantaire.

Grantaire wants the reason for his condition. Enjolras gives it to him in a rush of breath. Grantaire’s eyes go wide.

“Do you permit it?” Grantaire asks, laying a tentative hand on Enjolras’ cheek. 

“Yes,” Enjolras says. Grantaire’s eyes close. Maybe they’re golden. Somehow, when Grantaire’s lips touch his, he can’t bring himself to care.

Grantaire never asks for permission again.

stardust-blake  asked:

Happy new year, again, Rosie!! I'd like a drabble. I feel like we don't get enough flustered Clarke on the show so can you write a drabble with flustered Clarke + Bellamy's freckles. It could be canon or modern AU. Thanks for doing this, and you're amazing! <3

Three weeks later, and I finally got there. Sorry for sucking. Anyway, this fic is very ridiculous, deviates slightly from the prompt, and is a lot longer than originally anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it anyway, Hana :)

In retrospect, Clarke probably should’ve realised what was going on.

She’s in her third year of med school, after all, and usually has at least a basic level of common sense in her.

As it is, apparently Bellamy Blake makes her a bit of an idiot. And Bellamy Blake half naked? Well, Clarke’s not sure anyone can truly blame her for her brain short-circuiting and subsequently shutting down at the sight.

“You’re staring,” Raven comments easily, as he pulls off his top, leaving him in nothing but his swimming shorts.

And okay, Clarke at least has enough brain power to recognise that yes, she is staring, and it’d probably be a good idea to, you know — stop. But honestly, she’s not entirely sure how everyone on this goddamn beach isn’t watching him. Because Bellamy taking his top off definitely happened in slow-motion. With his skin glistening and his muscles rippling and his hair remaining perfectly dishevelled. That can’t have just been Clarke. She didn’t just imagine that.

But a quick glance to her friends, all still focused on their own tasks, tells her she did just imagine it. Which is a level above how her brain traditionally deals with her stupid feelings. Usually, she just fantasises about kissing him, or confessing her love, or worst of all, simply snuggling into his side and falling asleep. But this is some weird movie set shit her brain is delving into.

Which is probably the first sign that Clarke ignores.

“Shut up,” she mutters to Raven, spinning on her feet so she’s no longer facing Bellamy. He has a lot of nerve, being as beautiful as he is.

“I’m just saying,” Raven muses, ignoring Clarke’s response as she pulls out her towel and lays it down on the sand. “It’s likely that you’ll die today. Like, you barely keep it together as it is, and now you have to spend all day with him half naked. So, you know, just let me know how nice you want your casket to be.”

“If you think I want to be anything but cremated, you don’t know me very well.”

Raven snorts as Clarke helps lower her down onto her towel. “As someone who works in the medical field, your genuine belief that people can accidentally be buried alive is a weird one.”

“It could happen,” Clarke says, kicking Raven lightly in the shoulder when she just cackles.

“What could happen?” She hears from behind her, and when Clarke turns around there’s Bellamy, smile wide and eyes dazzling and freckles standing out so clearly against his warm golden skin. It’s a lot to take in all at once.

“Clarke could die of dehydration from being so thirsty,” Raven supplies unhelpfully, cocking an amused eyebrow when Clarke shoots her a dirty look.

“What?” Bellamy asks, frowning in confusion.

“Ignore her,” Clarke says, thankful that internet lingo isn’t really a strong point of his. “She’s being an asshole.”

“No surprise there.”

“You love me, Blake.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bellamy mutters with a small quirk of his lips. And then he looks back at Clarke, smile widening into a bright grin, and her brain kind of short-circuits again. “Want me to do your back?”

And, yeah, that certainly doesn’t help. Clarke blinks once, unable to get anything out but, “What?”

“Your back,” he repeats slowly, amused. When she just stares at him, probably resembling a deer in headlights, he continues, cocking an eyebrow. “You burn pretty quickly, princess. You really should put on sunscreen.”

“Oh right,” Clarke breathes out, shaking her head. She feels very warm suddenly, and it’s messing with her head. When Bellamy just keeps watching her with that amused expression of his, she realises she hasn’t actually answered him, and quickly amends. “Yeah, um. Thanks. That’d be, um — good,” she finishes lamely.

Bellamy chuckles, sending her a funny look as she grabs her bottle of sunscreen and passes it to him. And then she’s tugging off her top and turning around, and Bellamy’s hands are on her, and it’s like the universe is trying to punish her for some past life atrocity. Because his hands are large and rough and perfect, rubbing deep into her skin, and it’s hard not to imagine this exact same feeling in a very different context.

She feels a flush rise quickly on her chest at the thought, can’t help but sway back into Bellamy’s touch a little, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, continuing with his task easily.

“Okay,” he announces a good minute later, running his hands down her back one last time. “I’m done. Do me?”

“What?” She asks, dazed, and when her brain catches up, “Oh, uh — yeah, of course,” she stutters out, feeling like a fourteen year old with her first crush again.

Of course, having her hands on Bellamy doesn’t help much, not with the way she feels the warmth of his skin and the tautness of his muscles, or the fact that she zones in on the freckles running down his back, all the way to the bottom of his scapulae before they pepper out.

It’s like the sun kissed each individual one onto his skin just to torture Clarke. She fucking loves his freckles.

And yes, she sees his freckles all the time, but for some reason they’re particularly mesmerising today, tugging on Clarke’s mind until it unravels a little. She feels herself rock backwards without really meaning to, stumbling in her stance, and has to brace herself using Bellamy’s shoulders.

Which is definitely the second sign, and once again, one she ignores.

It doesn’t get any better after that.

The water is lovely, of course, and the weather just as much, with the sun high and bright in the sky. And Clarke loves hanging out with her friends, enjoys swimming around with them and attempting to body surf, even finds herself joining in on the seaweed fight that breaks out when Miller cops some in the face curtesy of Jasper.

But she doesn’t feel completely right, skin hot and tight and mind muddled enough that she misses when people try to talk to her a few times. Her eyes keep getting caught on Bellamy’s form, from the curls stuck to his forehead to the golden brown of his chest, and when it gets bad enough that she feels slightly faint, she decides it’s time to get back onto solid ground.

“You okay?” Raven asks, when she joins her back on the beach, flopping down heavily on her towel. She still feels all hot and flustered, and apparently looks it too, if Raven’s concerned tone is anything to go by. “You don’t look good, babe. You need some water?”

And yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing that even that sign, spelt out right there in front of her, practically flashing to get her attention, isn’t enough for Clarke to realise something’s up.

Something other than the ridiculous explanation she’s come up with for feeling so out of it.

“I’m fine,” she mutters, beginning to fan her face with her hands. She just feels so dazed, and it’s absolutely absurd that seeing Bellamy like he is today is affecting her so much. It’s honestly normally not this bad. “I just — I don’t understand how he looks this good,” she explains, knowing Raven will catch on to her complaints quickly. “It’s like… it’s like he’s specifically trying to torture me.”

Raven laughs, sending Clarke a sly grin. “He’s probably just trying to look irresistible enough that you finally make a move.”

Clarke groans, letting her head drop back even as she shakes it in denial. “You’re delusional,” she sighs, eyes falling shut. They feel heavy, probably because they’ve had to look at something so beautiful for over an hour, which is totally a logical explanation.

“Yeah, I’m the delusional one,” Raven mutters lowly, and Clarke throws an arm out in an attempt to hit her, only to feel sand beneath her skin instead. “Okay, seriously, you’re acting even weirder than usual,” Raven says, voice etching on concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke responds, stressing her point by waving her arms out wildly. She can practically feel Raven’s disbelief in the silence that follows, and sighs loudly. “Okay,” she eventually continues, words slurring slightly. “This is what it is. He’s a beautiful, freckled man, and my body can no longer handle it, probably because it knows my love is unrequited and I’m going to die alone, and therefore wants to punish me.”

“Uh huh,” Raven responds after a very long beat, voice slightly strangled. Then, “Babe?”


“You, um, might want to look up.”

“Why?” Clarke huffs, opening her eyes to throw Raven a glare for making her do something that requires effort, only to find Bellamy standing right in front of her, eyes wide and mouth parted as he watches her closely. She blinks, feels her face heat up even as her brain sort of decides to shut down. “Oh.”

“I just came to check up on you,” he says, voice inscrutable. His brows pull together and he runs a hand through his hair, and Clarke watches in mute horror as any possible explanation for her words escapes her. “Who were you…”

“What?” she asks, shaking her head quickly as though it could rid her of his question. “No one,” she says, and without much thought at all stumbles up to her feet, just needing to get away.

She makes it one step before the world goes fuzzy around the edges, and all at once a wave of nausea floods her.

“Woah, woah. Clarke,” she hears in Bellamy’s voice, as a pair of strong hands quickly circle her around the arms, keeping her upright even as she feels her whole body waver, losing every ounce of energy.

“Bell,” she breathes out, blinking up slowly to look at him, catching his worried expression and his big, brown eyes.

She sees him say something, his mouth moving as though he’s calling out her name, but his words are lost to the sound of blood rushing past her ears, and the next thing she knows, the galaxy across his face fades until it’s nothing but the dark night sky, and she’s out.


Clarke’s fainted once before in her life. It was when she was nine years old, and trying to beat her personal record of thirteen cartwheels in a row.

When she woke up it was to Wells’ worrying, and the first thing she asked him was if she beat her record. She had, getting a fourteenth cartwheel before she apparently stood up, stumbled, and fell back down again, and it was an exciting enough revelation that Clarke viewed the whole experience in a positive light.

This time, the first thing she says when she’s awake and semi-coherent is: “Your freckles.”

It comes out slurred and somehow accusatory, and Bellamy’s brow furrows in confusion as he watches her closely. Her head is in his lap, and his hands are gently stroking her face, and Clarke has enough brain activity to recognise that it feels really, really nice.

And also, that she accidentally confessed her love to Bellamy.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, sweeping her hair from her forehead. “I caught you before you fell, so there’s no way you have a concussion. Want to try that again?”

Clarke shakes her head, struggles to sit up and lets Bellamy help her when she can’t on her own. Her mind is still sluggish, and so she doesn’t stop herself from continuing to talk. Just, you know, to knock in that final nail that is her coffin. Or however it is you prepare an urn.

“Your freckles,” she says, frowning when Bellamy’s lips pull up into a smile. “They — they made me confused. And flustered. And I couldn’t — I couldn’t think.”

“Okay, I’m only a history teacher and I definitely know that that’s not how things work.” His smile widens when Clarke frowns, and he passes her a bottle of water. She takes it and downs it greedily, not having realised how thirsty she was until the first drop of water hit her lips. She feels worlds better for it, her head clearing of its cloudiness and her body feeling a lot stronger. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“What?” Clarke asks, confused again.

“The last time you ate,” Bellamy repeats, reaching behind her to grab something. Clarke looks over her shoulder to find Raven, somehow both looking concerned and amused, handing Bellamy a banana and a bag of jelly lollies. “Or had any water, for that matter.

“I don’t know,” Clarke mutters, feeling herself flush all at once because oh my fucking god, she is such a fucking idiot. “Last night, I guess.”

Bellamy shakes his head, peeling the banana before handing it over.

“Eat,” he tells her, tone leaving absolutely no room to argue. Not that Clarke would, now that she recognises that her feeling faint was not the result of Bellamy Blake’s freckles like she originally thought, but instead a combination of low blood sugar, mild dehydration and heat exhaustion. You know, the more logical explanation. Seriously, she’s in med school. This is beyond embarrassing.

She does eat, finishing the banana quickly before taking a few of the jelly lollies, getting some sugar into her system.

“So, let me get this straight,” Bellamy says after a good minute of just watching her eat. Clarke feels herself blush furiously, and she’s honestly wondering how much of an overreaction it would be to move to the other side of the world tomorrow. But she confessed her love to Bellamy, fainted in his arms, and then told him it was because of his freckles, all in about a three minute time span. The mountains of New Zealand sound pretty damn good right now. “You skip breakfast,” Bellamy begins to list off, pulling Clarke from her spiralling thoughts, “forget to drink any water, go to the beach on a ninety five degree day, and when you feel flustered you think it’s because of me.”

He sounds amused, but something more too. Hopeful, maybe, and it sends a pang of warmth through Clarke’s chest. A good pang, not an I’m-going-to-faint-again pang.

“Have you seen you?” She asks, tentative, and when Bellamy ducks his head in a shy grin she feels herself smile. “It made a lot more sense in my mind.”

Bellamy’s laugh comes out surprised and delighted, and when he looks back up his eyes are shining bright and his smile is as happy as Clarke ever remembers seeing. Again, it’s a lot to take in, but the flutter beneath her skin is a distinctly good kind.

“So if I kiss you right now, because your love in not at all unrequited, is there any chance you’ll faint again?”

“No,” Clarke responds quickly, shaking her head. “I’m in med school; I know these things.”

He’s grinning even as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t trust you at all,” he says, but Clarke’s already reaching out to pull him down, guiding his mouth to hers.

His lips are warm and soft, and she sighs against them, slanting her mouth against his to better the angle. She deepens the kiss quickly, lets her tongue trace the seam of his lips until it slides against his, and then Bellamy’s pulling her onto his lap and Clarke’s hands are tangling into his hair, and they’re kissing like they don’t want to be doing anything else in the entire world.

She only pulls away when she starts feeling faint again, but it’s the good kind of breathless this time. The one that comes with being thoroughly kissed.

Plus, Bellamy basically just told her he loved her too, and that thought is enough to send her mind spinning a little.

She probably should eat some more, before they continue making out.

“I kind of died seeing you in this bikini,” Bellamy tells her as he rests his forehead against hers.

Clarke laughs softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, hands tracing up her sides to reach the band of her bathers top. “But unlike some people, I recognise the importance of eating and staying hydrated, so you probably couldn’t tell.”

Clarke groans, dropping her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder as his body shakes with laughter. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Yeah, absolutely not.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” she mutters, moving off of his lap to sit beside him instead. As much as she wishes she could, she can’t exactly keep making out with him on a public beach, in front of strangers. In front of their friends.

Remembering that little fact, Clarke turns around to find Raven staring back at her, thankfully alone, but looking altogether incredibly unimpressed.

“I can’t believe you literally had to faint into his arms to work out your shit,” she says, and Clarke shrugs even as Bellamy snorts out a laugh at the comment.

Tucking herself into his side and lacing their fingers together, it’s had to find a part of her that cares.

“Whatever works.” 

Ease - Part 4




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.

A/N: thank you for all the support you’ve given me so far! nicest fandom to be in tbh

Originally posted by jeonbase

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Tae [9:45]
cupcake shop. Be there at 10. I’VE GOT NEWS!!!!

Tae [10:01]
make that quarter past. Jin trapped me in the bathroom.

It was the morning after you had seen Taehyung kissing Yeji at the party, and with that image still fresh in your mind, you could already guess what Taehyung’s ‘big news’ was. It was surprising how quickly Taehyung wanted to discuss the situation, but then again, there had never been any secrets between you two.

Well, all except the one where you had a small crush on your best friend. Almost no secrets.

It took you five minutes to work up the courage to go into the main living area of your house, worried about meeting one of the girls on the way. You couldn’t deal with any more lectures about saving electricity or keeping the noise down, as you had enough on your plate as it was. Did those girls even understand what a tough time you’d been having?

Making your way out of your room cautiously, you paused as you spotted a girl sitting at the table in the kitchen area. Normally you would’ve made a quick exit, seeing as your housemates weren’t exactly the friendliest bunch. However, this girl you’d never seen before. Her short black hair was divided into two ponytails on each side of her head, and her pyjamas were pink and covered in teddy bears, making her very innocent-looking.

At this moment, the girl looked up and caught sight of you, her face lighting up. “Y/N!” she called out happily, standing up and giving you a bow. “Glad to finally meet you! Heard so many good things from Jiwon and Yeona; feels like I know you already!”

You stood there in silence, your eyes wide open in bewilderment.

“Wait… do you even know me?” she questioned, before breaking into fits of laughter, her hair flopping about like crazy. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Mijung.” When you still didn’t reply, she added, “I live here also.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage, giving Mijung a weak smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Don’t tell me the others haven’t mentioned me? Yah, what have I told them about being polite? I bet they’ve been grumpy too. Had a lot of problems, so I’ve been told. But they seem to like you, so they can’t have been too bad!”

You almost choked on your own saliva. “I’m sorry?” you spluttered. “They like me?”

Mijung nodded, her face frowning. “Haven’t they been very nice?” You didn’t reply, but your silence was enough confirmation. Mijung sighed, clutching her forehead as if she had a headache. “Yeona’s been having money problems. Her father lost his job so she’s probably very stressed, the poor thing. And Jiwon, she’s retaking exams and her parents aren’t happy about it. Those two not the most outgoing people to begin with, but I hope they haven’t been giving you too much trouble. I’ll have a word with them, don’t you worry. Then we can have a group meal this evening, get you some proper introductions. Tsk.”

Turning around, she went to the fridge and pulled out some more breakfast, adding to the pile she already had on the table. She was still talking, but quieter this time, as if she was talking to herself. “Those girls… they never do what I ask…”

Deciding it was best to be off, you left to meet Taehyung, immediately noticing how much happier you felt knowing at least one of your housemates wasn’t completely rude. You felt slightly guilty for judging Yeona and Jiwon so quickly, as you didn’t even think that they could be going through complications too. It explained a lot about their complaints. Got to stop thinking about yourself, Y/N, you thought firmly. No more wallowing in self-pity.

With that in mind, you strolled down the street with a new heart, brushing the one that had crumbled so easily the night before under the carpet.

You [10:09]
just met the last one of my housemates. imagine you after you’ve had three cups of coffee – that sums her up. 10:20 okay?

Tae [10:10]
I’m not afraid of competition. I’ve drunk two cups already and I can feel it in my bones

Tae [10:10]
Hurry up though, because I will eat your cupcake. The coconut and mango one.

You [10:11]

The cupcake shop was fast becoming one of your favourite places to be: set on the corner of a street, the wall of windows soaked up the sunshine of early spring. Small tables were set up in rows opposite the tills and cupcakes in the glass display, with soft brown chairs pulled up at each one. Taehyung was sat in one of those chairs in the far corner, hugging a zig-zag patterned cushion and staring out the window.

You took a moment to watch him, with his carrot-top hair already fading into pastel orange, his soft eyes half-closed as he basked in the warmth of the sun’s rays. As you sat down opposite him, a smile split across his face, making his eyes sparkle. You swallowed forcefully, feeling the familiar flip of your stomach. Diverting your gaze from Taehyung’s relaxed figure, you peered at the huge cupcakes sitting in front of you.

“I see slight abrasions on the icing.”

“That was the person at the counter when they were putting it on the tray,” Taehyung shot back, his voice calm like he had planned his answer.

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you were looking forward to eating too much to ask any more questions. Taking a huge bite of your cake, you smiled at Taehyung sweetly, fully aware you were giving him a pretty disgusting sight. Laughing, Taehyung did the same, covering his mouth with icing in the process.

“Hey, Y/N, do you like my beard?” asked Taehyung cheekily, smearing the icing down his chin.

“You look like an old man,” you teased. “Oh, Master Taehyung, teach me some words of wisdom.”

A naughty glint appeared in Taehyung’s eye. “I’ll show you, if you like.” Before you knew what was happening, Taehyung had shoved your cupcake straight into the middle of your face.

Spitting out bits of icing and wiping your stinging eyes, you heard Taehyung break down in fits of laughter, wiping his chin clean with a single swipe.

“That was evil!” you cried, doing your best to wipe off the icing before it grew sticky. Meanwhile, Taehyung now lay sideways on his chair, tears forming as his laughs grew silent. “Taehyung!”

“Your face!” he cackled, throwing his head back as a new wave of laughs hit him.

“I look disgusting! Tae, has it all gone?” you asked, desperately grabbing napkins.

Once he had regained his composure, Taehyung looked back at you, scanning your face. “Almost.” Reaching across the table, you felt his thumb sweep your bottom lip, then your hairline, then the corner of your eye. Each time you felt his touch your breath hitched, and your hands started to wobble. His expression grew solemn as he concentrated on gently brushing your skin.

“All gone,” Taehyung said, your cheeks beginning to burn.

He remained completely oblivious to the internal meltdown you were having, and instead steamrolled on in his usual fashion. “So anyway, my news!”

That brought your mood down. “Yeah,” you replied, knowing that there was no enthusiasm in your words. “Your news.”

“Remember how I found Yeji in the club yesterday? Well, I said hi to her again and she actually remembered my name! Remember when she called me Taemin? Anyway, then I asked her…”

You began to zone out as his words made the butterflies in your stomach turn into stones. The atmosphere had been so nice until Taehyung had brought up Yeji. Not that it was his fault, of course. He had every right to be happy that he got with his high school crush, seeing as he didn’t know how you felt towards him. When it was just you and Taehyung, you realised, it made you calm in a way that you couldn’t quite understand. He was comfort, and it gave you peace. But now, he was invested in another girl. Would you ever get that same comfort again?

“Y/N? Are you even here?” Taehyung asked, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

Shaking yourself back to the present, you tried to remember what Taehyung was talking about. Ahh, yes. Yeji. “So, you kissed her. Well done.”

“Ye- wait, what? How did you know?”

You blinked. “Uhh… just assumed, I guess,” you lied. The last thing you wanted was for Taehyung to know that you saw his intimate moment, or that you went home without mentioning it. Too many questions, not enough answers. One thing was for sure: you wanted to be happy for Taehyung. He was always pining for a girl he couldn’t have, or turning girls down because his parents wouldn’t approve. After seeing him in his darkest of days, you knew what a girl like Yeji could do for his confidence.

“I think she wants to meet up later. Can’t believe this is finally happening,” said Taehyung, staring at your hands that you lay casually on the table.

Soon after the words left his mouth, you heard a high-pitched squeal and a ‘Taehyungie’ come from behind you. You barely looked round before Yeji swept past in a perfume-scented blur to hug Taehyung.

Not that you were embarrassed by the affection, but more worried that it would come across as rude to stare, you looked at the view of the street, trying to even out your breathing. Overnight they’ve gone from bowing to hugging. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Taehyung glance over Yeji’s shoulder in your direction, but you determinedly kept your head turned, despite there being nothing at all interesting outside to look at.

“Sorry, Taehyung, are you busy?” Yeji asked, suddenly noticing you sat on the opposite side of the table. “You’re his best friend, right?”

You nodded, finally turning back to meet Yeji’s large, innocent eyes. She gave you a soft smile, bowing her head slightly as you did the same. The tension in the air was growing thicker by second, and you could see Taehyung biting his lip as the awkwardness settled upon the three of you. Normally, you would’ve tried to break the silence, but there was nothing you wanted to say to Taehyung or Yeji.

She cleared her throat. “Shall I go?”

“No, no, no,” said Taehyung quickly, grabbing her wrist. “We were just finishing. Did you want to go to the park?” When Yeji nodded happily, Taehyung stood up to leave and shrugged on his coat. “I’ll see you later, Y/N! I’ll text you.”

Then they were gone, and you were left sitting by yourself in an almost empty shop after your best friend left you again for the same girl. What’s more, you could still feel the sticky residue of the cake icing around your face, making you feel even worse. It only took a minute for Yeji to walk in and ruin your good morning.

You didn’t want to go home just yet; although the appearance of Mijung slightly improved the housemate situation, the thought of moping around all day wasn’t appealing. So, you continued to sit in the cupcake shop, staring at the empty chair that Taehyung had filled only moments previously.

You were only pulled out of your statue-like state when two boys, a little older than you, both squished onto the brown seat opposite. Looking up at them in confusion, you realised that they were the two people working behind the counter, as both wore aprons across their black uniforms. They had light brown hair that flopped across their forehead, toned muscles, and concerned looks on their faces.

“Are you okay?” asked the smaller one of the two, his doe-shaped eyes filled with worry. “I’ve never seen anyone so sad in a cupcake shop before.”

The other boy let out a sound of frustration, sucking air in through his teeth to restrain himself from saying anything to his friend. “We just thought you looked down. Can we do anything for you?”

You shook your head, looking down at your lap as you felt your eyes brimming with tears. Hearing the uneasiness in their voices struck a chord, the emotions rising in your chest. “No,” you mumbled, letting the tears spill onto your jeans as they began to overflow.

Suddenly, two pairs of arms were engulfing your small frame, the smell of flour and freshly baked cakes filling your senses. The kind gesture simply made you want to cry harder, but the boys held on tight until you demanded that you were fine.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed, but they just smiled comfortingly.

“It’s not everyday someone cries after eating a mango and coconut cupcake,” the taller boy grins, his smile wide and bright.

“When you’ve made the icing, that’s debatable,” the other boy jibed, earning a poke in his ribs.

The smiley boy ignored his friend’s whines about bruising, focusing back on you. “I’m Hoseok, and he’s Yoongi. We’re going to close for lunch, but you can hang out with us if you want. Could use some new company.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged on the corner of your lips as Yoongi began to tickle Hoseok, causing the taller boy to yell in protest. Struggling to keep Yoongi’s wiggling fingers away from his sides, Hoseok added, gasping slightly, “Please come so there’s a witness for my murder.”

“Okay, yeah,” you said, suppressing a grin. With Taehyung occupied, you realised how badly you were lacking friends. Perhaps Yoongi and Hoseok were exactly what you needed.

“This is my favourite place! I come here all the time, it’s always so quiet here.” For the last half hour, Hoseok and Yoongi had been showing you all the pretty parts in your region of Seoul, from cute flower markets to the insane shopping streets. To be more accurate, Hoseok had been showing you around, as Yoongi just went along with his younger friend. It was refreshing to hang out with new people, although Hoseok reminded you of Taehyung in many ways, making you wish he was here with you to explore. You knew he would’ve loved the gaming shop, which was packed full of everything he could only dream of. Compared to the shops in your small town on the outskirts of Daegu, this was heaven.

Hoseok had lead you down a cobblestone street, lined with cherry blossoms that had buds forming on the branches, ready for spring. The three of you had stopped outside a long white building, with a small, electric-controlled gate. Typing in the pin number, the gate buzzed and clicked as it became unlocked. Proudly, Hoseok walked up the steps, as if he was an estate agent showing off a property.

“It’s a dance studio,” announced Hoseok, his smile stretching wider. You had entered the locker room, with glass windows in the walls showing the practice space next door. “The dance club I’m in owns this place, but only a few people come here because it’s smaller than the main studio and it’s a bit out of the way of the main city,” he explained, entering the empty room.

“Are you into dancing, Y/N?” Yoongi asked, sitting down against one of the many mirrors to continue eating his lunch.

Your mind briefly thought back to all the dancing you’d done with Taehyung, but you pushed it away, not wanting to think of Taehyung for the fiftieth time in half an hour. “I enjoy it,” you said truthfully, “but I don’t do it seriously.”

“Dancing doesn’t have to be serious,” smiled Hoseok. He began fiddling with the stereo in the corner and going through his phone. After putting on an upbeat song, Hoseok started to move to the beat, his body flowing smoothly as he bounced and slid across the slightly sprung floor. “Join in!” he called to you.

Seeing you hesitating, Yoongi shouted, “Dance, you muppet!”

It was a little embarrassing dancing next to someone as talented and professional as Hoseok, but the reassuring smile he gave you throughout the song made the experience a lot more enjoyable. At first, you tried to copy Hoseok’s moves, but as he moved too fast, you gave up and instead let the rhythm control your limbs, throwing yourself into the song. When it ended, you and Hoseok were left panting, but it was exhilarating being able to let yourself go.

“You were great, Y/N! With a bit of practice, you could enter the competition, couldn’t she Yoongs?”

“Yah, what have I told you about nicknames?” Yoongi whined, his mouth stuffed with food. “But yeah, you’d have a pretty good shot.”

“What competition?” you questioned, fanning yourself with your hands.

Hoseok pointed to the wall opposite the door before collapsing down next to Yoongi, taking the half-eaten chicken and shoving it into his mouth. The wall was covered in all sorts of flyers, but a large, red poster caught your eye. It was advertising a dancing competition taking place at the end of May, which anyone could enter. First place had a prize of… 1,000,000?

“A million won for the winner?” you asked incredulously.

“Interested?” laughed Hoseok. “Yoongs and I are entering as a team, but it’d be cool to have some friendly competition. You’d have to get a dance partner as well, or several if you want, so you can’t enter solo.”


That’s why you found yourself back at Taehyung’s house, waiting for him to come home after his day out with Yeji. Jin was fast asleep on one of the sofas, his head on the arm rest and his earphones in, while Jungkook played a video game on their TV. Namjoon kept you company on the other sofa, his long legs laid on top of yours.

“Introvert or extrovert?” he asked, biting the end of the pencil he was holding.

“Tough. Probably slightly more introverted.”

Namjoon nodded, filling in your answer into the newspaper. He’d found a quiz that would find your ‘quote of the week’, and seeing as Jin was asleep and Jungkook refused point blank to participate, he’d jumped on you as soon as you entered the front door.

“So, your quote of the week is, ‘the stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.’”

“Wow, I’ve been enlightened,” you said sarcastically, watching Jungkook throw himself on the floor as he died at the same spot for the third time.

“I’m back!”

Your heart jolted in your chest as Taehyung entered, making you decide against telling him off for leaving you for the second time to see Yeji. Which was lucky, because as soon as Taehyung had stepped around the corner, Yeji followed.

Taehyung grinned widely as he caught sight of you sprawled on the sofa, but you were too focused on the fact that they were holding hands, their fingers hatched together tightly.

“Hey guys,” Taehyung said brightly. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Yeji.”

All three of your mouths dropped open, while Namjoon’s eyes were wide in shock, Jungkook’s character in the game received a gruesome death as his head whipped round in disbelief, and your heartbeat failed on you completely. You must have misheard…

“Yeji, these are my housemates, Jin, Jungkook, and Namjoon, and obviously, this is my best friend, who you’ve met before.” Taehyung gave you a fleeting smile, looking slightly wary of your frozen expression.

“Hello,” Namjoon and Jungkook both mumbled, bowing their heads.

Taehyung had met Yeji yesterday. How were they already together?

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Leaving awkwardly and dragging Yeji along, he disappeared up the stairs.

As soon as you heard the quiet click of the door, indicating them being out of earshot, Jungkook almost exploded. “Girlfriend?” he spluttered, his eyebrows upturned.

Namjoon’s eyes darted between you and the staircase where Taehyung had left the room. “Y/N,” he said slowly, “are you okay?”

The whole reason for you coming to the house was to ask Taehyung if he would dance with you in the competition. Hoseok and Yoongi went back to work shortly after you read the poster, but the instructions were clear: find a dance partner, win the competition, get money. It was like a punch to the gut. You didn’t even want to think about what Taehyung and Yeji would be getting up to in his bedroom.

But were you okay? You weren’t sure. Instead of the usual stone in your stomach, it had become a bottomless pit. Gaping wide open and utterly empty, like all your hopes and visions had been sucked into this hole and you were left feeling numb.

“I can’t ask him to be my dance partner, can I?” Your voice wobbled towards the end of your childish question, but you bit your lip in hope that no one noticed.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” said Namjoon gently.

“Namjoon, I don’t have any other friends. I need the money to pay my parents back for my rent. I guess… I guess I can find other ways of sorting it out.”

There was a thoughtful silence following your words, only disrupted by the sound of deep breathing from Jin.

“Maybe you won’t,” Jungkook pondered, absentmindedly picking at his jeans while he stared into the distance. “I’m not too shabby at dancing. I could give it a go, if you’d like.”

Your mouth fell open, not for the first time that day. “Really? You’d do that?”

“We could make a pretty good team.”

“But if you do get annoyed at him,” added Namjoon, “I’m only a phone call away.”

The boys laughed, and even you let out a giggle despite still feeling upset about Yeji. The sudden noise made Jin startle from his slumber, blinking against the harshness of the light.

You watched him notice how there had been a change in atmosphere since he had last been awake, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he peered at all three of you.

“What did I miss?”

anonymous asked:

Do you do SHINee? Could you do a bodyguard AU with them too like you did for BTS? If not I'm so sorry and please just disregard this!!

i usually don’t do shinee but my ult bias is onew so a lil special thing for u


  • is the only one with probably a license to be a bodyguard. as in like he took classes to be able to do this
  • is usually just a friendly dad. likes motivating the other bodyguards with pep-talks 
  • greets you every morning with the same phrase and it’s kinda weird kinda endearing ??? 
  • wears the all black suit, but his ID badge is yellow with pineapples drawn on it and it’s honestly like the cutest thing
  • insists that carrying you over small puddles of water is a must
  • thinks he looks cool with the sunglasses on and it’s true you’re like “onew, you look so serious and suave” and he’s like thank you…….but then does a corny smile in secret 
  • you caught him trying to calm down a crying child but he really didn’t know what to do like it was obvious he was getting nowhere
  • so you went over and scooped the kid up in your arms and just petted their hair and soothed them with your voice
  • and onew watches you with like complete enchantment because he’s like hOW did you DO THAt ………what is the magic trick
  • and you just giggle and you’re like there’s no magic!!!
  • and in that moment onew is pretty sure he’s meet the love of his life (you) and that hopefully in the future ………..this cute impromptu family is…….a real family


  • hums the james bond theme song in inappropriate situations 
  • winks at you whenever you ask him to do something and he’s like “you got it captain *wink wink wink* *finger guns* *failed attempt at backflip*”
  • the other guards are like sT O P being embarrassing but you love it honestly you applaud jonghyun for always having so much energy no matter what
  • bodyguards aren’t allowed to have piercings but jonghyun (if he did have one and let’s say for the sake of this au he does) would totally be like “im not taking out my eyebrow piercing. or another piercing on a part of my body none of you can see”
  • jonghyun turning around to look @ you “unless the boss wants to see-” key probably: “THEY DONT CALM DOWN”
  • switches his ear piece out with his headphones during long meetings or whatever and tries not to be obvious about it
  • but everyone can hear the usher playing at full volume jonghyun please
  • “can i finally have my own gun?” “no jonghyun.” “why not?” “we gave you a baton last time and you bedazzled it” “it was blingbl-” “NO. IT IS A WEAPON.”
  • you were up all night writing up documents for a big official treaty and jonghyun was your overnight guard and at some point it’s 4 am and you’re like i CANt…..do this anymore
  • and jonghyun appears with some tea and snacks or w/e and he’s like “i know what will help.”
  • and you’re like …….??? and jonghyun’s like “it’s my super secret super special talent show”
  • and he proceeds to literally….touch his elbow with his tongue. and that’s it. 
  • and you’re sitting there, tired out of your mind and there’s bodyguard jonghyun licking his elbow and yoU SWeaR ITS THE FUNNIEST THING
  • you laugh so HARd you fall off your chair and jonghyun rushes over worried but you’re just laughing as he holds you and soon enough he’s laughing too and you two are just being so loud the other guards come in like ???? but it’s just you two laughing and …….maybe after you’re literally sick of laughing you lean up and kiss jonghyun as a thank you for making you feel better and jonghyun may or may not does a victory dance


  • “you see this manicure? you see how nice my nails are? it’s because it makes it easier for me to CLAW OUT YOUR EYES YOU DIPSHIT GET AWAY FROM MY BOSS” 
  • is always the voice of reason, but also the voice of crippling criticism 
  • designer suit, designer shoes, designer gun if that’s possible idk but imagine
  • people underestimate his strength as a bodyguard, but rather than being strong physically key is really smart and always makes sure to have three-four back up plans if anything goes wrong. that and he has good aim so if anything he’ll pick up the nearest object and throw it at an attacker if necessary 
  • this once happened and the nearest object was taemin’s phone. you can imagine how that turned out
  • you and key have inside jokes about everyonE like EVERYONE because key gets all the gossip from all the other bodyguards and he’s just like “heY did you hear what the prime minister of france did, well let me tell-”
  • there was once a time where you were almost kidnapped for ransom and key was the only guard closes to you and for a second you doubted how safe you’d be with only him, but key literally shielded you with his body
  • and even though the other person was stronger, leaving key with a bruised face, key refused to move out of the way and all he did was turn and smile at you, bloodied lip and swollen eye and he promised he’d keep you safe
  • and luckily you were rescued before anything fatal happened but you had run to key who was being taken to the hospital and had cried and he’d only held your hand in his and told you that he didn’t regret anything
  • afterwords, when he returned with some bandages and stuff, you were like really worried and hovering over him all the time and he was laughing about it because you’re not the bodyguard, he is
  • but tbh he liked having all your attention to himself~ 


  • is famous for his suit pants always being too short because he’s so tall
  • “choi why can i see your ankles?” “sorry, i keep getting these pants tailored but……there still too shirt”
  • jonghyun voice: “gimme some of that height there brother”
  • is like slightly oblivious when it comes to anything because he gets enchanted by your presence 
  • like literally you guys will be going over a plan and you’ll take a sip of water or tuck your hair behind your ear and all of a sudden it’s like minho is fixated only on you and key has to literally snap his fingers in front of minho’s face to get him back to attention
  • always says the bodyguards should do a soccer match against one and other but literally no one else wants to and it gets minho all sad
  • is the only one who can probably aim a weapon the right way. is even better then onew who took classes smh
  • got a tramp stamp on his lower back that says flaming good looks with the hot wheels flames and no one lets him live it down
  • you found out at the annual christmas party where jonghyun got (a BIT) tipsy when he shouldn’t have and blurted it out to you
  • and minho, who was staying by your side that night, turned cherry red and was like jONGHYUN and you were like ohohohoh let me see that tattoo
  • and minho got even more red because he’s like,,,,,,it’s on my lower back,,,, and you’re like “oH……well if you ever want to show it to me~~”
  • and minho was like wait. what. you’re .flirting ……….with???? me????
  • and you just giggled and minho went into a trance for like a week because oh my god you flirted with him and it took onew literally coming up to you and telling you to please ask minho out otherwise minho would be stuck in that state of shock for literally The Rest of His Life


  • who even let him get this job 
  • none of the other bodyguards trust him enough to like let him have a solo duty like everyone is like @ each other don’t let the boss out of your sights……….or taemin
  • got his hands on someones gun once and onew was like “everyone on lock down code red someone catch that boy”
  • taemin didn’t get it though like aren’t cool bodyguards SUPPOSED to have guns why does no one trust him is it because he keeps waving the gun around????
  • tbh he doesn’t even need a weapon his sheer presence sometimes scares people away because he has this one smile. that like. looks /off/
  • like he’ll turn and look at someone, tilt his head, smile and just stare deep deep dEEP into their soul
  • and that person will feel like they’ve been dragged into hell itself so they wouldn’t even think twice of messing with taemin
  • which is funny because on the otherside he’s a big giggly kid who stops to pet every puppy he sees
  • you once said you were stressed and taemin was like “do some dance exercises with me to unwind” and you were like omg and the other bodyguards were like no taemin you can just ask our boss to dance with you
  • and taemin, who was going through his playlist to pick a song to dance with you to was like excuse me why not
  • he picked brittney spears’s toxic and ………..well…..
  • you ended up dancing, taemin ended up ontop of your desk dancing, jonhyun ended up singing into your stapler, key caught the whole thing on his phone, minho tried to make sure taemin didn’t step on any important documents, and onew considered writing a resignation letter
  • taemin once did end up alone with you, on accident really because you meet him off duty when you had snuck off to be alone and taemin recognized you instantly and you were like SHHH and he was like “????? oH you snuck out???” and you’re like oh my god
  • and taemin’s like don’t worry, here take this
  • and he like took off his hoodie to give to you and he was like “if you ever wanna go out just tell me ill distract the hyungs for you”
  • and you put his sweater on and it was cute you were like thank you taemin,,,even tho a bodyguard really shouldn’t conspire to let me do something like this
  • but taemin just took your hand in his and was like “let’s have some fun before the hyungs find out and literally try to kill me (—–:”
  • that was the first of many cute sneaking out dates 

anonymous asked:

The fic where they find Ging in the whale island is the best it was so funny and so cute!!! If you have anytime please write part two!..but if you can't it's still okey

Thank you!!! I wasn’t sure if that story was as funny as it sounded in my head so I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it so much! I hope this is just as good ^^; 

But yeah so here’s part two to this drabble about Killua and Gon dealing with an intrusive Ging- so this is still canon universe featuring 18 year olds Killua and Gon. This takes place the morning after the original drabble!

(and here’s part three)

“So. How did you sleep?” was the first thing Killua heard as he shuffled into the Freeccs kitchen at the break of dawn.

Killua squinted at Ging, who’s silhouette was outlined by the rising sun, and felt his lips immediately tug down into a scowl.

Of course. The one time Killua was up early and the only other Freeccs awake happened to be the only other Freeccs who was also an asshole.

“I didn’t sleep,” Killua growled as he dropped gracelessly into one of the chairs around the table. “And its your fault. If you hadn’t barged in last night-”

“If I hadn’t barged in, you wouldn’t have slept anyway,” Ging cut him off. “That bed is too small to comfortably fit two fully grown adults. And if Gon sleeps any way like I do, he’s not the most peaceful sleeper. Face it, you would’ve been down here with that same disgruntled expression on your face even if you had slept with your boyfriend.”

Heat rushed to Killua’s cheeks at the word ‘boyfriend’ and he barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Seriously, why did Ging have to be here on the rare occasion Killua and Gon had decided to visit Whale Island?! Every time the guy opened his mouth Killua wanted to scream.

There was a strange sizzling noise. Killua looked up in time to see Ging fiddling with the stove. For the first time since entering the room, Killua noticed kitchen utensils and mixed ingredients scattered on the counters. 

Was Ging making breakfast-?


A soft hand carded through his hair, gentle and heart-warmingly familiar. Killua automatically leaned into the touch despite his current lack of energy.

He smiled up at Gon, who’s chaotic brown spikes were tousled and half falling into his eyes, and Gon’s lips quirked up in response. Gon slowly moved his hand to brush Killua’s hair out of his face, fingers lingering on his still-pink cheeks. Killua reached up, hand holding Gon’s in place like he was trying to mold Gon’s handprint into his skin-

“Did you sleep as poorly as your friend, Gon?” Ging asked, shocking the pair back to reality.

Killua gritted his teeth as Gon’s hand fell away. He tried his best to ignore the roar of frustration that rose inside him while Gon glanced over at Ging, brows furrowing. “…yeah. I’m used to sleeping with Killua, so. It was hard not having him there.”

Ging looked over his shoulder with both eyebrows raised and Killua shrieked internally. Holy shit, that had sounded so wrong. 

“Have you now.” Ging fully faced them, back pressed against the counter. “Y’know, you should be more careful saying stuff like that so casually with your aunt in earshot.”

Gon’s shoulders stiffened and Ging chuckled.

“Relax. Mito’s not here. Yet, at least.”

Okay. That was it, Killua couldn’t take this- this teasing anymore. Not when he was this exhausted, not after he’d spent the whole night wide-eyed and frozen on the mattress without Gon’s presence to calm him down, not when Ging had interrupted his moment with Gon for the fourteenth time in the past five days-

“What exactly is your problem?!” Killua burst out. “Do you have something against me and Gon being together?! Because if you do,you’d better say it before I punch that stupid grin off your smug face!”

“Killua!” Gon gasped but Ging was smirking.

“You must be pretty confident if you think you can land a hit on me.”

Killua shot upwards. Only Gon’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from throwing himself at Gon’s joke of a dad.

“Killua, no-” Gon said even as Ging snapped, “Calm down, weren’t you an assassin in the past? I have nothing against your relationship with Gon.”

The burning anger inside him melted away as fast as it had come, leaving both Killua and Gon to gape at the older male.

“I think you’re pretty special, actually,” Ging continued in a semi-thoughtful tone. “Gon wouldn’t shut up about you the first time we met. It was always ‘Killua this’ and ‘Killua that’….I can see why, now.”

Killua blinked, stomach twisting and heart soaring. Inside him, confusion warred with embarrassment, mixed in with a rush of overwhelming affection for his best friend at his side.

He had never known what Gon said to Ging after he and Alluka left Gon at the World Tree. Gon had mentioned bits and pieces of it in passing, sure, but it never felt right to directly ask Gon what had passed between him and his father. Killua had left Gon’s side, he had no right to ask that of him.

But now hearing that Gon had talked about Killua…the knowledge made his chest swell.

“Then- then why-” Gon stuttered, “Why have you been acting so-?”

“Irritating?” Ging suggested as he picked at his nails. “Intrusive, obnoxious, nagging-”

“Infuriating,” Killua interrupted shortly and was surprised when Ging gave him a wide grin. 

“That too. I haven’t even told Mito this, but the real reason is very simple, actually.” Ging pushed himself off the counter and went back to meddling with whatever was in the pot on the stove. 

Gon and Killua shared a confused look. What was Ging trying to-

Ging said abruptly, “I can’t leave too good of an impression on you, Killua, or else I’d have a son-in-law running around telling people that I am much friendlier than I appear. And I can’t have my reputation as an obnoxious loner ruined or else I’d be done for.”

Killua’s jaw dropped as Gon let out a shaky laugh.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Killua moaned, slumping back into his seat. 

“Nope,” Ging said and made a popping sound on the ‘p’.

Killua curled his hands in his unbrushed and knotty hair, staring at the table’s wooden surface with eyes that burned with exhaustion. He could hear Gon still laughing in the background but ignored him.

He couldn’t believe it; Ging was a jerk purposefully acting like jerk so his fucking reputation as a jerk wouldn’t be destroyed, just so he could continue living the isolated life he had been before Gon had finally caught up to him during the Chairman Election.

What a moron.

“Well, that’s one mystery cleared,” Gon half-whispered to Killua as he began to lower himself into the seat next to Killua’s.

“GON!” Aunt Mito’s sudden shriek was sharp enough to make all three males jolt. “I thought I told you to sit across the table from Killua!”

Gon grimaced but did as he was told.

Killua stared blankly at the opposite wall just above Gon’s head. He had always known that his own family was insane, but the Freecss…they were on an entirely different level of crazy, one of their own making.

Killua leaned back in his chair, head spinning while Ging’s snickers filled kitchen, and closed his eyes. 

What he would give for a nap.

(part three)

anonymous asked:

I read Honenuki got in through recommendation like todoroki and yaoyorozu why do you think he ended up in class B instead of A?

Oh, I’m pretty sure the sorting is somewhat casual - I say somewhat because I think the classes are made trying to keep the overall strength balanced between the two groups, but that’s about it? It’s not like class A is inherently better than class B just because they’re called “A”, it’s mentioned more than once during the story that the potential should be overall the same and the only difference is the battle experience class A has

Anon said: holy shit I lose my shit bc of that text of yours. I mean I knew already how the case was between Baku and Kiri, but it still hit my heart to read that all in one text. I’m so blessed welp X’D

I nearly cried while writing it so guess what you’re not alone anon we can cry together ( ձ ̥̥̥ ヘ ձ ̥̥̥ )

Anon said:  I started watching BNHA because I love your art and I wanted to understand it (came for Haikyuu!! stayed for everything) and oh wow I’m only 7eps in so far but I really like it!!!! Thank you! Your art is incredible keep up the good work! : D

AHHHH THANK YOU!!!!!! I’m glad you’re liking it!!!!!!!!!!!! <3<3

Keep reading

Gladiolus Amicitia x Reader

Here we go. Forgive me if there’s typos or anything, because I wrote this on my phone, it’s nearly 2am, and I’ve been fighting a headache for hours. Let me know if there’s anything I need to fix and I’ll whip out my laptop tomorrow to fix it up!

@chocobro-daydreams since you wanted to see this 😘

Your eyes were closed to the damp, dark night, and with each breath that brought the cool air into your lungs, you felt more and more at peace. The midsummer sun had lowered itself behind the tree line ages ago, leaving no sign of its previous appearance in the sky, and it brought with it a feeling of deliverance, so to speak.

All morning, Gladio had insisted, or rather pleaded with puppy eyes, upon exploring the expanse of wilderness surrounding the cabin, so all afternoon the two of you were left sweltering under the burning sun while mapping out the countless trails in the valley. You could still smell the sweat lingering on your burned skin. Your nose wrinkled at this. A shower sounded welcoming, but it seemed that wouldn’t happen anytime soon because either there was a blockage from not being used in quite a while or something with the whole set up was entirely broken.

Currently, Gladio labored away in the bathroom, tinkering with whatever tools he found in the cabinets to see if he could get the water running properly. He promised that he could at least do that for his princess, although he couldn’t promise that the water would be hot.

Opening your eyes, you sighed and let your fingers trail over the rough wood stairs you sat on. Being clean was nice, but not necessary at the moment. The two of you were both rather sweaty and disgusting from your adventures, so you might as well be disgusting together.

But, he insisted.

A smile crept onto your lips as you traced overtop the little patterns in the wood and gazed out at the fireflies that had emerged from the tree line. Gladio would honestly drop anything for you, and you adored that about him. His undying love and loyalty. But, damn it, you wished he would take some time for himself and join you out on the deck. The scenery was gorgeous, almost too much so for words to do it any justice. Beyond the stairs was a wide gravel path that curved its way through the forest and back to the main road miles away, and the Regalia sat parked off to the side. A small meadow of tall grasses and summer wild flowers populated the opposite side of the drive, and gradually sloped gently to the sandy bank of a slow-moving creek.

The creek.

Suddenly, that seemed like a much better option than listening to the occasional curses coming from within the cabin, though Gladio had been quiet for quite some time now. Smirking slightly, you admitted to yourself that practicality wasn’t the only reason bathing in the creek with Gladio was such an excellent idea.

It didn’t matter how long the two of you had been a couple; The thought of him stripped of his clothes beneath the night sky caused your cheeks to burn.

“God damn it,” You hissed to yourself, suddenly even more impatient that before. “Hurry up Gladio.”

Ten minutes passed, or maybe more? Your shoulder rested against the deck railing, and with each passing moment creeping further into the night, you grew weary of waiting. While the sun had vanished, the humidity in the air still left you feeling particularly sticky, and that can only be tolerable for so long before it expand dreadfully miserable.

Suddenly, a huge crash from within the cabin jolted you from your sluggishness, almost causing you to crack your head directly off of the wooden beam. It sounded as if dozens and dozens of metal tools had just clattered to the floor individually. Silence followed.

Then, “FUCK.” Gladio swore as another violent crash sounded, but this time caused directly by him chucking the tools back into a cabinet.

Immediately, you snorted and buried your face in your hands. Oh my god, Gladio. To hear him lose his composure over a freaking shower was hilarious. His footsteps grew louder, coming towards the door, and you tried to stifle your laughter before he opened it and made a scene for laughing at him, but you couldn’t hide the ridiculously guilty smile on your face. Honestly, you looked a bit like Prompto after he made an awful pun and was trying not to laugh at himself.

Wordlessly, Gladio sat down beside you, shirtless, barefooted, and covered in more sweat than during your hike earlier. You’d be drooling over him if not for the laughter you were trying to contain. When he continued to say nothing, you teased him, “Sounds like you were having fun.”

His dark eyes turned to you wistfully. “Amicitia’s are not meant to be plumbers. I would rather take on the Archaeon himself than do that again.”

You knew Gladio wasn’t as riled up over it as he seemed, but he was definitely disappointed that he couldn’t get it working for you. Playfully, you punched his thigh and drawled, “Oh, come on, a shower or the Archaeon? That’s a pretty bold claim, or that’s one tough fucking shower.”

Finally, his face broke into a grin. “It’s one helluva shower. Don’t know how long it’s been since someone used it,” Then, it softened to reveal his disappointment. “But it doesn’t look like we’ll be using it. Sorry, princess.”

Gently, you rested your palm on his leg and rubbed little circles with your thumb. “That’s alright, you did your best.” You paused, biting your lip as you turned to face him. One hand rested upon his tattooed shoulder while the other laid on his chest. “I have a better idea anyway.”

A smirk formed from your lips as Gladio raised an eyebrow inquisitively. His arms enveloped your waist, pulling you closer against his warm skin, but you quickly smacked his hands away. “Someone’s feisty,” The timbre of his voice lowered; he leaned closer, his lips barely brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Do I have to teach you how to behave?”

You almost whined in response. Almost. You fought to ignore the way your body so quickly began to ache for him, and instead trailed your fingertips down his chest. Down, down, with feathery touches across his abdomen. Gladio’s skin shivered beneath your touch. Your fingers danced along the waistband of his pants, daring to go closer, but not committing to it. Mimicking him, you grinned, “Do I have to teach you how to behave?”

His lips parted to reply, but he inhaled sharply at the feeling of your hand suddenly grabbing him through his pants.

In a flash, you wiggled out of his embrace and darted down the stairs, giggling mischievously at the star struck expression he wore. Gladio blinked. “What the hell??”

You stood, a smiling figure illuminated by the light seeping from the cabin windows, and curled your finger at him, “Come here, big boy.” You pulled your shirt from over your head, and before your hands had even moved to unbutton your shorts, Gladio had nearly sprung up from the stairs. He moved swiftly, discarding his pants faster than you could remove your own.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it now!” His arms swept beneath your legs, picking you off the ground and slinging you over his shoulder. He started for the water, and you began to squeal.

He was going to throw you in, the motherfucker.

You had wanted to go in the water, but not like this, oh HELL no. His feet touched the water and sloshed as he walked further out. You pounded your fists on his back to no avail. “No, no, no, no, GLADIO NO-”

“In you go!” He laughed loud and heartily as he dumped you over his shoulders, plunging deep beneath the cool water for only a few moments.

You wished you had breached the surface like one of those graceful models from those beach photo shoots, but frankly, you looked more like something vomited up from the bottom of the ocean. The water pasted your hair to your face, and it stuck in your mouth and in all the places it didn’t belong.

God damn, was Gladio having a good time cackling at you. His hand was over his stomach, head tilted back, laughing at your pitiful appearance just floating in the creek like some resident monster. “Listen, Gladdy? Get in here and fight me. It’s WAR now.” You threatened while trying to slick your hair back so you could see.

“I’ll come in, but I’m not fighting you.” He sauntered forward, deeper into the water where you hovered with a pouty expression. As soon as he was within reach, you splashed water up his entire front. Gladio extended his arms as an invitation, “Make love, not war?”

You could play this out all night. Dramatically, you flipped your messy hair back across your eyes, stuck out your leg and put your foot on his chest to stop his advances. “None shall pass unless a champion comes to slay the great-”

Halfway through your monologue, Gladio chuckled, “Nah.” In one fluid move, he grabbed your leg and tipped you over backwards beneath the water again.

He had a death wish.

When you emerged, Gladio’s arms immediately captured you and pulled you to his chest. “The legendary monster has been defeated.” Softly, his lips placed a kiss on top of your head.

Your plan didn’t go as planned. At all. “Fight me.”

He placed another kiss on your forehead when you looked up at him. “You’re ridiculous.” He joked, a wide smile tugging at his lips as you stuck your tongue out at him. “I love you.”

“You love me? That explains why you dumped me headfirst into the water.” You pursed your lips, challenging him.

Although, with the way his gaze softened, you could tell that he wouldn’t joke about his feelings for you. Those were serious. Gladio pressed his forehead to yours, eyes taking in every detail of how you looked from the curve of your jaw, to the shape of your lips, to the color of your eyes with the stars above reflected in them. “I do love you. More than anyone or anything I’ve ever known.”

Your heart faltered as it did every time he said those words. How could you have gotten so lucky? “I know you do,” You smiled softly and pressed your lips briefly against his. “I love you, too.”

He held you against him for seemingly forever, peppering kisses across your cheeks and neck, lingering there longer with his lips pressed against your pulse, and his hands might have begun to wander, but he made no move to abandon the water for the cabin or even just the shore. “Gladio,” you sighed and tugged at the edge of his the boxers he still wore. “Inside. Now.”

You felt his lips smirk against your skin. “The shower’s broken, but the bed isn’t…yet.”

“You’re terrible.”

mariahillstiddies  asked:

you and i both know which ship i'm gonna ask about, i just hope i got here first :P

BLACKHILL it is!! <3 If you expected a short answer with just the names you are going to be Very Disappointed in me Ali


Comes home drunk

Maria, Natasha’s enanched methabolism assimilates alcohol quickly, so she likes to challange Maria shot by shot and drink her under the table. It takes a long time, cause Maria can handle her fair share of drinks.

Tops in bed

Is it finally time for the who’s-the-top-and-who’s-the-bottom fandom fight??? The truth is they’re both tops, but, well…Natasha Romanoff’s entire personality screams Power Bottom. Her interrogations tecnique speakes volumes, she always lets the other part think they’re in control but really, she always has the upper hand. This translates to Natasha often letting Maria top her but very rarely being completely in charge. Those times when Natasha tops or Maria is handled ful control are Fun Times

Does the laundry

They both do, but it’s mostly Natasha, because while Maria gradually makes her way to the top of SHIELD’s command her time in the field becomes more and more scarce, whilst Natasha comes home from a mission with two pounds of cement residue on her suit from that building that Clint blew up and has to wash everything and she loves Clint, she really does, but he blows up things too frequently and she has to do laundry at least 2-3 times a week, so she often does Maria’s too. Those weeks when they miraculously manage not to blow something up Maria does it for both of them.

Cleans the mess

Maria. Strict military tidiness, thank you very much. If she sees a sock on the floor she gets itchy in the back of her neck and has to tidy up. Natasha challanges her not to do so for a week. Maria lasts half a day, then she sees a dirty fork on the counter and stares at it for three minutes and Natasha can see her sweat, is she trying to get the fork to just grow legs and go to the sink itself? Natasha doesn’t know. But when she comes back from the bathroom the fork isn’t there anymore and Maria whispers “Not a word.” Natasha complies with a knowing smirk.

Leaves a mess

Natasha is very tidy too, because in the Red Room you could get punished for not tucking your bed perfectly in the morning. But then she discovers, one day, when she’s super late for a mission and leaves her bed unmade, that nobody can punish a grown up for not tidying up. So, occasionally, when she wants to get on Maria’s nerves, she leaves stuff around. A sock on the floor, a dirty fork on the counter, an empty bottle on the table. She is very tidy and tends not to make messes, but it doesn’t stress her out, so it’s a great way to get revenge on her wife when she calls the Mighty Black Widow “cute”.

Throws food at the other

They will deny this ever happened, if you ask them. It started by accident while Maria was showing her a personal Pizza recipe and she “accidentally” (at least this is what she claims) threw a little flour on Natasha’s nose. Hell broke lose in five minutes. They will deny it ever happened but it’s one of their favorite memories, because SHIELD’s Director Maria Hill covered in flour smiling is not a sight you get over easily, because the Black Widow laughing her ass off with tomato sauce on her cheeks is not something that you just forget seeing. Still, it never happened, never, this is all preposterous. How dare you.

Spins around in the squeaky chair

You know this is Natasha, every time she seats on Maria’s office chair. “Please, Natasha, stop.” “Oh, I’m sorry, is this annoying you?” “I will murder that squeaky chair and burn its remains.” “I can’t hear you over the noise of my favorite chair I’m spinning on.” The chair disappeared in suspicious circumstances shortly after.

Gets jealous easiest

Natasha shows it more but Maria gets equally jealous. They’ve lost so much and they’re too scared they’re going to lose each other too. The jealousy lessens over the years, as they gain confidence in their relationship. Eventually, neither of them really is: they know who the other one is going home to at the end of the day.

Cuddles the other

Physical contact is also something that comes to them slowly. I enstensively expressed my opinion on the little spoon/big spoon answer on the other post, there comes a point when the world is going mad and the only safe place left for them is in each other’s arms, so both.

Feeds the pets

Natasha, because it takes Maria seven months to even consider going anywhere near The Embodiment Of Evil Liho.

Cooks the meals

Maria. She learned as a kid because there were nights nobody else was there to make dinner, then picked it up as an hobby as an adult. Natasha has all the skills to cook perfectly but doesn’t really like it.

Spends the longest time getting ready

NATASHA. Her undercover personas don’t come easily. “I can do it well or I can do it quickly, Maria.” “Quickly. I obviously pick quickly.”

And who spends the most money

Neither of them wastes money, but they’re financially comfortable and they do have to stay up to date with all the best technologies because of their jobs. Still, it’s nothing eccessive or extravagant. Unless, you want to count that one time Natasha bought that house. But you definitely can’t count that because technically there’s no way to trace it back to her or Maria, at least not if you don’t just so happen to walk by and see Maria Hill trying to fix the irrigation sistem while Natasha Romanoff pretends to give her advice while she’s really just staring at Maria’s biceps. And if you’re just lucky enough, and pass by at the right time, you might just catch the moment when Maria succeeds and the irrigation turns back on in her face. Natasha dares to laugh. That’s how they end up in a water fight. If you ask them, this never happened either.

anonymous asked:

Hey I'm new to this and I don't really know how it works so um... ‘a man who can’t die is no tragic hero.’ centered around Vylad? Maybe?

‘a man who can’t die is no tragic hero.’ 

title: tea and cake

summary: A conversation over some tea during a stormy afternoon. Vylad-centric. MCD pre-season 3.

a/n: So, this is so… loosely based off the prompt, I’m so sorry??? It was supposed to be something deeper and Vylad-centric but I ended up writing him having a conversation with Isabel and threw in a bit of Vylance because I’m a sucker for that pairing? I hope you like it—I thought it was rather cute, even if it’s so… loosely based off such a good prompt jfc. I might take another shot at it on another date.

warning(s): fluff, tea, Isabel being a sweetie





Rainfall doesn’t bring melancholy feelings it once did.

As denizens scurried, seeking shelter in the nearby establishments or rushing home, he stood there in the street. His cloak, soaked. His hair, flatten against his forehead. The comforting rumble of distant storm this intense rain was bring only made him want to shut his eyes, listening as his breathed out even breaths and lulled into a fond memory which rain only brought now.

Keep reading

krystalsatori  asked:

Sentence #4 Matsuhanaiwaoi ;3c

4.  “I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.”

“Iwa-chaaaannn.” Oikawa rolled over and dropped his head on his boyfriend’s stomach.

Iwaizumi flipped a page in his book, not even batting an eyelid. “No.”

“I didn’t say anything yet!” 

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

Oikawa pouted, blowing a raspberry against the fabric of his shirt. “But I’m bored.”

“Go watch a movie.”

“Not in a movie mood.”

“Social media.”

“Went through everything, and no one’s online. I’m bored.”

“Read a book. Draw. Dance. I don’t know.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re not paying attention to meee.” Oikawa pulled the top of the book down, meeting Iwaizumi’s annoyed eyes. “Give me something to do.”

“I just suggested a whole bunch of things, mop-head.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa squawked, bolting upright. “My hair’s not that bad!”

“Go ask Hiro, then. He’ll tell you.”

“Fine, I will!” Oikawa huffed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing, marching grumpily to the kitchen.

“Makkiiii,” Oikawa moaned, draping himself over the countertop, “Iwa-chan called me a mop-head!”

“Is that right,” Hanamaki mumbled, eyes fixed on his recipe book. “How would he know?”

“Exactly!” Oikawa shot upright, propping his chin on his hands. “My hair is fluffy because it’s perfect-”

“I mean, how would he know if he’s never used your head as a mop before?”

Oikawa gasped, clutching at his chest. “I can’t believe this- The betrayal- From you of all people- Makki, I thought you loved me!”

“I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.”

A long pause.

“I’m not anywhere near your stove.”

“But you were thinking about it.” Hanamaki shot back, setting the book down to pull flour, baking powder and other baking condiments from the cupboard, only pausing once to give Oikawa an unimpressed look. “Out of my kitchen.”

Oikawa pouted, staring morosely at the raw ingredients. “But now I want to bake.”

“You are coming nowhere near me and my kitchen when I bake. Issei!”

“What?” Matsukawa’s voice carried over to them from the living room, and the sounds of the movie stopped. A moment later, a head of messy hair stuck itself into the kitchen, peering at them. “Did someone call for pest control?”

Hanamaki leaned against the counter, pointing at a spluttering Oikawa with his spatula. “Yeah, that would be me. Remove the mop. It is starved of attention and I cannot multitask in the kitchen.”

“Makki- Honestly- Your insults get better and better every day, but really?”


“On it.”

Matsukawa walked over and grabbed Oikawa around the waist, throwing him over his shoulder with minimal resistance. (Mostly because Oikawa was still busy cursing at Hanamaki.)

He flopped down on the sofa, arms caging Oikawa in, and pressed the ‘Play’ button with his toe. The movie started up again, but Oikawa would not look at the laptop, continuing to fidget and moan about how bored he was. Matsukawa rolled his eyes.

“Tooru, please. You have to stop acting like you’re angry at us sometime.”

“Angry? Who’s angry? Definitely not me. Please, Mattsun, what are you talking about?” The brunet’s eyes darted about the room, refusing to meet his gaze. Matsukawa sighed and caught his chin, forcing him still so he could look him straight in the eye.

This. This switch to our last names, this act of boredom.”

The older still refused to meet his eyes, so he pressed on. “It’s just one exhibition, Tooru. There will be more, okay?”

Oikawa’s eyes snapped up with sudden fierce intensity, causing him to flinch. “If you understand that’s it’s important to me, then why won’t you let me go?!”

“Because there’s a protest taking place on the next street, and we prefer you not to go and remain alive.” Matsukawa let go to nuzzle the side of his neck, arms squeezing him tightly. “We’ll make it up to you next time, alright?”

“But there won’t be a next time for this exhibition,” Oikawa grumbled.

“There also won’t be another you if you went for it and never came back,” Matsukawa pointed out. “Which, let me remind you, nearly happened.”

“But it didn’t! Hajime literally carried me off the street and I was barely out of the house!”

“You were halfway there when the news of the protest came over the radio. We panicked, okay?”

“Sure doesn’t look like it.”

“Tooru.” Matsukawa sighed in exasperation. “Hajime is stress-reading and Taka is stress-baking. The only reason why I’m not stressing is because you’re sitting in my lap and I know you’re real.”

He sighed again, dropping his head onto Oikawa’s shoulder. “Do you remember when we had to split up for college?”

“The long-distance thing where we didn’t speak to each other? No, of course I don’t remember that.”

“Stop being salty for a moment and listen to me,” he groaned. “I’m trying to say that that was painful but can you imagine what it would be like if that happened for real? Long-distance because you’re not even in this plane of existence and not speaking because you’re dead?”

“You’re being overly dramatic,” Oikawa told him, but his voice was softer, quieter, more contemplative.

“Maybe, but it’s realistic,” Matsukawa countered. He lifted his head to press a soft kiss to the corner of Oikawa’s mouth, leaning back before he could ask for more. “We love you, you doofus, and that’s precisely why we’d rather have you suffer at home than potentially get shot in the streets.”

“I keep forgetting we’re not in Japan anymore,” Oikawa sighed, finally, finally leaning into Matsukawa’s touch. “It’s difficult to remember that we’re not mostly safe all the time.”

“It’s a small price to pay for being able to stay together, isn’t it?” His attention shifted as his hand was lifted, a light kiss pressed to the ring gleaming on his finger. Forest green eyes looked up into his as more kisses were pressed to his knuckles, before his hand was flipped over and a kiss pressed to his palm. “If we look out for each other, we wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

Oikawa stuttered, his cheeks bright pink. “H-hajime-”

Matsukawa leaned in, shutting him up with a kiss. “He’s right, you know,” he mumbled against his lips. “You were there right? You said the pledge with us? ‘Till death do us part’, not ‘till stupidity do us part’?”

Oikawa smacked him.

Iwaizumi smiled at their antics, squeezing Oikawa’s hand to bring his attention back to him. “We love you, Tooru. I love you. Being in a relationship means we give and take, so let it go this one time, and enjoy the day with us instead, okay?”

Oikawa sniffed huffily and turned away, but when he spoke his voice was thick with tears. “Fine. Just this once.”

“You’re an ass.” Matsukawa poked him, grinning when he shrieked. “I love you a lot, okay. Get that through that mop-head of yours.”

“I guess I love you to- Did you insult my hair again?!”


Oikawa tore himself out of his grip and ran for the kitchen, flailing wildly. “Takahirooo, Issei is bullying me againnn-”


Iwaizumi laughed and planted himself on the couch, pressing himself up against Matsukawa. An arm came up around his shoulders and he nestled closer, sighing deeply. 

“Tooru will get over it.”

Iwaizumi hummed lowly, eyes fixed on the screen. “He will. It’s better this way.”

A loud crash was heard from the kitchen, followed by Hanamaki’s creative cursing and Oikawa’s squawks of apology. Iwaizumi smiled.

“At least this way, he’s safe.”

a-catgirl-universe  asked:

I was re-reading that shopping Drabble. One there Katniss pull out noble Katniss stunt and Peeta ended up with three kids with Madge. I also re-read your answers on the subject but can't help to crave for more.. I wish there would be a tiniest snippet of everlark finding they way back or getting to live together... Sorry, I just crave those two.

I understand. From one fellow HEA lover to another, here’s a little drabble of their future together (and here’s the link to the first part): 

Keep reading

Better Latte than Never

Ask and you shall receive! @cindersart wanted a Reyna/Calypso fic, I think this is not what you had in mine, but don’t worry, it’s not the last fic I will write about this pairing ;) Thank you to the wonderful @vampipers for being a wonderful beta. You’re the best.

Anyway, my beautiful Irish corn, my dear Drills. I hope you like it.

“Ask her out.”

Calypso almost dropped her coffee. She looked at Percy, who was smirking at her.

What!? No! I can’t.” Calypso felt her face get hot, and the knowing smirk on Percy’s face confirmed that that she was blushing like crazy.

“Why not?” Percy said, stealing a piece of Calypso’s pie. “What can you lose?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, it took you four years to ask Annabeth out.” She smacked his hand when tried to grab more pie.

“That’s different, Annabeth was my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose her. You, on the other hand, have nothing to lose.”

Calypso sighed, stealing a glance at the beautiful dark haired girl, who was currently reading a book and drinking hot chocolate. Percy was right, she didn’t have anything to lose, except maybe her favorite coffee shop. Reyna (she might have heard a barista call her name) was a regular in the coffee shop, and Calypso, to Percy’s amusement, had developed a crush on her, and she had gotten it bad.

Keep reading

Draco Malfoy x Muggle Girl
  • Draco x Muggle Girl
  • Draco Malfoy walked the streets of London. He was far away from the Malfoy Mansion and his family.
  • The boy had a lot on his mind, he was torn between what is right and wrong. Draco was sure he is a bad person, doing terrible things and that he is just like his father. He didn't realize he couldn't be someone else even if he wanted to. Lucius and Narcissa tried their best to raise him in a proud pureblood wizard, worth of his family name.
  • But Draco Malfoy wasn't a bad guy. No one who doubts in his actions and questions if he did a right thing or not could ever be a terrible person.
  • The truth was, Draco wasn't the saint, not even close, tho he tried his best to be better in the past few weeks.
  • Why? Maybe because he felt this guilt inside him.
  • One can only imagine what Draco went through his years. He couldn't betray his family name, his father and aunt Bellatrix were both Death Eaters and Draco knew long ago, he will be asked to join them once. Not like he had a choice, if he turned them down, he'd not only risk his own life, but his parents too.
  • And now Draco was wondering, he knew the day of him becoming a Death Eater was coming close.
  • He made a few steps down an empty street. The houses were nothing like those of the wizards, muggle's have quite of a strange taste, he thought.
  • It was a beautiful and peaceful day in July, the weather was perfect and it seemed like everything in the world is going just fine. But it didn't.
  • Draco took a deep breath as he sat on the bench in the park. He was looking at his feet, while his hands rested on his knees.
  • Silence was broken by a laughter which made Draco look up from the ground.
  • His eyes searched across the trees until they landed on a girl, not far away from him. The girl was smiling, her eyes were full of happiness, something what Draco's missed for a long time.
  • Everything on the muggle girl spoke she wasn't a witch. She wore short jeans and white Chuck Taylor's and Draco couldn't help but admit the red shirt she was wearing really complimented her long (y/h/c) hair.
  • The girl laughed again, as a dog brought her a tennis ball. She picked it up and threw it in Draco's direction.
  • And then it hit Draco's head. It didn't hurt pretty much, but still Draco rubbed the side of his head while he stood up.
  • The girl's eyes widened.
  • "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" She shouted as she rushed to Draco.
  • "Are you okay? I really didn't mean to throw it at you." She spoke softly.
  • As she was closer, Draco noticed her beautiful (y/e/c) eyes and a few freckles spread across her nose and cheeks.
  • She was pretty, he thought.
  • "Um, it's okay." Draco blurred out. He picked up a green ball, turning it around and watching it closely.
  • He saw that for the first time in life, until then he only knew for the Quidditch balls.
  • He went to pass her the ball, but before he could do that the dog jumped on him.
  • "Marley! Stop it, leave him alone." The girl shouted as Marley winged his tail, looking at Draco.
  • Draco smiled and patted his soft fur.
  • "I'm (y/n)." The girl spoke suddenly and Draco looked up from Marley.
  • "..I'm Draco." He smiled.
  • "That's your name?" She questioned and then Draco reminded his name wasn't used in the muggle world.
  • "Yeah, um it's kind of a nickname.."
  • "Oh..cool." The girl said and smiled again.
  • From her eyes to her mouth there was this positivity she had, the kind Draco has never seen before. Like she was smiling all the time and couldn't stop.
  • "Is this your dog?" Draco asked.
  • "Yes, I found him two years ago on Christmas. Someone must have had abandoned him and then I took him home. We're inseparable ever since." (y/n) said.
  • Draco smiled. "Do you live near here?"
  • (Y/n) nodded. "Just around the corner. But I never seen you around here."
  • "Yeah, well I'm from Wiltshire." Draco replied.
  • You nodded. You looked up at him, in his eyes. He was different from you and all others you have met. He smelt of peppermint and warm ocean breeze. Draco, even his name was strange, beautiful, but strange just as him.
  • "Are you visiting someone here, or..."
  • "No, no I just wanted to get away from.."
  • Silence. Draco was out of words, should he tell a total stranger about his family? What he feels? Would she judge him? Think he's a coward and arrogant?
  • As his gaze fell, your lips curled in a slight smile. He wasn't shy, you thought, he was more of a thinker and a loner. The one who keeps their mind for themself and reveals nothing to the world. You suddenly realized he was hurt. In his eyes you could see the sadness and despair.
  • "I understand," you spoke, "I to get away from time to time too."
  • Draco looked up at you and smiled.
  • "Care to join me and Marley on a walk?"
  • Draco nodded "I'd be glad to." He replied and you two continued on walking.
  • Draco told you about his strict parents, about his doubts and fears. You realized all people he told you about had strange names and it felt like Draco lived in another world. Yet, you understood him. You could feel what he felt. Fear or letting other people down, fear of disapproval and not becoming what you want to be. The person who you really are.
  • "Sometimes," Draco said "the greatest fear of mine, is being myself."
  • His eyes were staring up in the sky, like they were looking for something.
  • He then sighed and gave you a broken smile.
  • "You shouldn't be afraid of who you are and what you fear, Draco. Even if you did bad things, that doesn't make you a bad person."
  • The two of you continued on walking, talking about your families, friends and the world around you. Draco was very sweet and nice person and even if he told you he wasn't you truly believed he was.
  • It was getting darker, you and Draco forgot about the time and stars already appeared in the sky.
  • "I'm really glad I met you." Draco said.
  • Marley sat at his legs, looking up and begging for his attention. "Both of you." Draco added and patted your dog.
  • "The pleasure is ours Mr. Malfoy." You said and he chuckled.
  • "I hope I see you around (y/n)."
  • You nodded slightly. You too, hoped on seeing him again. But there was this feeling that you won't.
  • Again Draco's gaze fell, but this time he wasn't silent.
  • "You are the only one that thinks there is something good in me. I appreciate that, (y/n), really. You are the kindest person I have ever met."
  • That gave you chills. It wasn't the typical compliment one gives you when you first meet him. You smiled at him before you spoke "I'm sure I'm not the only one, Draco. And you really are a good person. I feel...I feel like I've known you for years. And I believe there is more good than evil in you."
  • The street lights went on and there was only you, Draco and Marley. It was like a dream, standing there, looking up at Draco who looked like he was made in heaven.
  • You couldn't believe how someone like him felt so bad about himself. Why couldn't he see what you saw.
  • "There should be more people like you. At least there where I come from. But today, here with you, I felt so much better. Like I'm in another world." Draco spoke.
  • His eyes were telling he was being completely honest to you and you were honored.
  • You took his cold hands in your warm ones and your heart was no longer the center of your body, but in that moment every conscious part of you was in the hand that Draco held.
  • "We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows. Choose a place where you won't do harm - yes, choose a place where you won't do very much harm, and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine." You said, before you let go of his hands, knowing well you will never see him again, even tho every single inch of you hoped that you will.
  • 📚Quote by
  • E.M.Forester,A Room With A View

Can you write an imagine where the reader is chubby! and she’s super insecure and even though her and newt live together and have been dating for a long time she gets super down on herself one night. And newt is really fluffy and sweet to make her feel better and convince her that she’s beautiful and he loves her?

Warnings- self-hatred and blood

“Queenie, I won’t fit in that, it’s too small” you say sadly. 

“Oh sweetie I'm sure you will, maybe if you just try-” Queenie starts,  

“I said NO!” you yell. 

Queenie takes a step back, shocked by your outburst. 

“O-okay, I’ll see you in a couple hours” Queenie whispers. 

Tears start streaming down your face, you felt like such a horrible person. Fat and ugly and mean, how could Newt ever love you. He’s probably dating you out of pity. 

“Y/n, are you almost ready love” Newt calls from the other room. 

“Almost!” you yell back. You throw on what you normally wear with a big coat to hide yout disgusting body.  

“I'm ready” you say walking towards Newt, He looks amazing, he his hair looks perfect and his clothes fit perfectly. 

“Wow you look stunning Y/n” he compliments as he hugs you. 

“Thanks, you look absolutely amazing Newt” you reply. 

The two of you apparate to Tina and Queenie’s apartment. Queenie opens the door, “Hiya!  we’ll be leaving in just a moment” she says excitedly. 

She walks off and Newt goes to talk to Tina, 

“Queenie wait” you call, she turns around and you take her to the guest room. 

“I’m so sorry for snapping at you earlier, work has been stressful and I was tired. I'm just really sorry” you apologize. She gives you a sweet smile, 

“It’s okay, I know that body image has always been a thing.” The two of you hug and walk back out to join the rest of the group. 

“So where are we going tonight” you ask. 

“Oh this great little club downtown, it’s absolutely spectacular!” Queenie says excitedly. 

You all decided to walk instead of apparting. It was a No-maj pub so you didn't want to attract attention to yourselves. While walking you couldn’t help but look at Queenie and Tina. 

They looked so beautiful, their dresses fell perfectly along their bodies. You noticed Newt looking at them with fondness, you suddenly felt like shrinking until you disappear. You walk slower and end up at the back, Queenie joins you. 

“You know sweetie, he thinks you’re absolutely beautiful.” Queenie says, trying to cheer you up. 

“You really shouldn’t be so down on yourself.” she says worriedly. 

“Im okay Queenie, Please don’t read my thoughts” you plead. 

She nods and catches up to Jacob. You soon arrive at the club, everyone one inside is skinny and beautiful. You shrink back to the corner and order a glass of whiskey. 

Newt looks over at you in concern, he starts walking over when a pretty ginger starts talking to him. She is clearly flirting and Newt looked like he was perfectly content with speaking to her. She was thin, her dress fit her perfectly, and her hair fell perfectly along her shoulders. 

Of course Newt would rather talk to her than you. You were nothing like her, you were fat, ugly, your hair looked like a niffler’s nest. You looked up and saw her arm on his arm and her lips…on his. 

You run out of their faster than you’ve ever ran before. Tina tried to run after you but you apparated back to your apartment before she caught up to you. You collapsed on your bed and started crying. You walked to the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. 

You took off your coat and clothes and began criticizing every single part of your body. You hated the way you looked, you hated how much fat you had all over your body. No wonder he kissed that over girl. You were nothing, nothing but a fat ugly loser. In a fit of emotions, you punched the mirror. 

The glass shattered and some went into your hand. A broken reflection stared back at you. You crumpled to the ground and cried. 

Newt was sprinting back to your apartment, basically forgetting he was a wizard and he could apparate. He had to explain the kiss, he watched you run out of the club and he tried to chase after you. Tina stopped him and yelled at him for a solid 5 minutes. He reached you apartment and ran inside, 

“Y/N! Y/N!” he yelled out as he ran through the apartment. He heard crying coming from the bathroom, he ran towards the door but stopped. 

“y/n?” he whispered. 

You kept crying, you didn’t hear him.  He carefully opened the door, what he saw brought tears to his eyes. You were curled up in a ball on the floor with blood running down your hand. The mirror was shattered and glass was all over the floor. He ran over to you and got on his knees, 

“Y/n! what happened, are you okay? are you hurt? please dont hate me” He fretted over you. 

“W-why don’t you g-go back to that ginger” you spat. He looked you in the eyes, 

“S-she kissed m-e y/n I swear, I love you so much. I would never cheat on you. You’re everything to me” he cried out. 

“Newt, that ginger was so much prettier and skinnier than me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to leave me for her” you sighed out. 

His eyes flashed with anger and confusion, “What are you talking about?! You’re perfect, I would never leave you” He said. 

You laughed,  “Ha, that’s funny. Newt I’m the ugliest, fattest person in the world”. He grabbed your face and kissed you 

“You are absolutly perfect. You are so so so stunning and sweet and such a wonderful parent to my creatures” He stressed. 

“Yeah but you can’t deny im fat” you hissed out. 

“Size doesn’t matter at all. You are practically perfect in every single way” he says acompined by a goofy little smile, “But seriously, there is nothing i would change about you”

You looked up at him and gave him a small smile. He hugs you tightly, you winced a little because your hand was still bloody. 

Newt jumped, “I almost forgot!” he yelled as he ran to his case, he came back with tweezers and gauze. 

“This may hurt love” he said as he started plucking the glass from your hands. 

“Newt” you start, “yes love” he replies, “You’re a wizard, you can use magic” you reminded him. 

“Oh right” his face turned a light red. 

He took out his wand and patched up the cuts then repairs the mirror. He picks you up and sets you down on the bed. 

“I love you so much, please don’t ever forget that” He whispers in your ear. you snuggle up to his chest and he wraps his arms around you. He starts singing to you, it calms down his creatures and he wanted you to feel safe in his arms.

“You’re so mean, so mean when you talk, when you talk
About yourself. You were wrong. 

Change the voices, change the voices in your head, in your head 

Make them like you instead. 

Pretty, pretty, please, don’t you ever, ever feel 

Like you’re less than fucking perfect

Pretty, pretty, please, if you ever, ever feel

Like you’re nothing. You’re fucking perfect to me” 

You giggle because you’re not used to Newt swearing or singing. 

“Isn’y it naughty to swear?” you try to be funny but your voice is still sore from crying, Newt gives you a sweet but concerned smile. “Thank you, I love you so much” you murmur into his chest. He leans down and kisses your temple, 

“Of course, anything thing for you love”

I have an obsession with Newt singing. PS. I love all of yall and if you ever feel like your not beautiful and amazing come to me and I will shower you with the love of a honey badger hufflepuff lol. 

anonymous asked:

Your writing is stupendous! Could you do a soulmate au w/Tsuna, & he's an apathetic, playboy jerk to s/o @ first, but they act like they don't care either & they act it perfectly. They give as good as they get & drive Tsuna wild until he claims them.

On the skin of their left breast, right above where their heart is located, people are born with a soulmark.

Every person’s soulmark was unique, the one phrase their counterpart uttered that stood out the most within the first hour of their initial meeting. The mark having been recorded on their chest, before they ever even met.

Sometimes people were born with hand signs on their chest, inspiring them to learn sign language. Some were in quotation marks, their counterpart having been encountered through media (one notable incident involving one counterpart being a telemarketer and calling the other without realizing it).

There was never a guarantee that you would find your counterpart, there being plenty of those whom never did, but there was always the chance you would… And that fueled the ambitions of many to go out searching for someone they might never find.

(inspired scores of international conventions where people were randomly sorted into groups of ten and spent one hour together, just talking in the hopes that one of them ended up being their match; if nothing happened, they would shake each others hands, wishing each other good luck and parting)

Another thing that was never guaranteed, was that it would be a romantic interest on the other side of that mark or even just one singular marking. There had been many reported cases of quasiplatonic-soulmarks and even select few poly-marks where there had been more than one counterpart. Sometimes, a person wouldn’t even end up liking their counterpart at all.

One thing that was for certain, though, any relationship one had with their counterpart, whether it was romantic or platonic or even one of mutual dislike, was intense and passionate and more emotionally invested than any other connection with a human being. One way or another, counterparts would be gravitated to one another, for better or for worse.

“Hey there, mind if I buy you a drink?” A man asked as he sidled up next to you, dark eyes roving over your rather provocatively dressed form.

Glancing at your half-empty pint before looking back at the interloper with a squint, you answered, “Yes, actually, I’d prefer if I remained uncompromised by whatever drug you’re thinking about slipping in it.“

“You got the wrong idea! I wouldn’t drug your drink, I’m not that kind of guy,” he squawked, caught off guard by the sudden and casual accusation.

It only garnered him an unimpressed and scornful glance from you before you dismissed him entirely with your body language. Already bored with the conversation, you grumbled, “I don’t know you from Adam, so I’ll have to pass. If it’s just a ploy to chat me up, I’ll save you some time: I’m not interested. At all. I’m here to relax, not have a one night stand or start a relationship with somebody. Why don’t you go ask the guy in the green shirt? They look interested.”

On the defensive, he snarled, pride sufficiently bruised from the gruff and rather ugly brush off, “You don’t have to be a bitch about it, jeez. Just say no.”

You remained unruffled, placidly responding with, “I did. You didn’t listen. Bye.”

With a tsk, the man left and blessed silence reined for a little while longer until:

“You know, he only wanted to get to know you.”

Somewhat exasperatedly glancing at the figure that slipped into the seat next to you and ordered a brandy with some ice, you absently responded, “More like he wanted to get into my pants, you mean. Generally, the people at bars either want to get drunk, celebrate, relax, or get lucky. You don’t go to bars to meet people, that’s what clubs and mixers are for, what the purpose of those monthly international conventions are for. I just don’t want to be another statistic.”

Hooded amber eyes flickered in your direction, eyebrows raised in incredulity. After a beat of silence, he managed, “…You make it sound as if you’d die if you went out with someone from a bar.”

Feeling a little playful, you quipped, “I might. There’s lots of sketchy folk out there. Who knows who you’ll bump into?”

“Devilishly attractive young men?” He offered a smirk in your direction, leaning closer with his arm propping up his chin on the counter, obviously attempting to be smooth. Alright then, challenge accepted.

Turning to face him properly now, you teased, “Really? Mind telling me when you spot one? Preferably one who isn’t a fuckboy?”

He recoiled a bit in shock at being blatantly called out, “O-Oi, have a little heart! That was quite cold.”

You tensed in surprise, turning back away to finish off your pint, heart beginning to pound as the phrase echoed in your mind. Have a little heart… Rubbing your chest discreetly with one hand as it prickled in reminder of what was forever engraved there, you mumbled, “Call ‘em like I see ‘em. Anyway, have a name, hotshot?”

“All the ladies call me Tsunayoshi,” he purred.

You grimaced, “Sure it’s not ‘sleazy’? I got all the wrong vibes when you did that, Tsuna. Or Yoshi. But I don’t know, you seem more like a ‘Tsuna’ to me. Makes you sound less pretentious and more approachable. See, look, less of a fuckboy already.”

He made a face, “Your bluntness is offensive. Don’t you have any tact?”

“None,” you relented agreeably, heart finally starting to slow down as you eased back into pace with the conversation. A subtle glance at the clock told you that it had been about four minutes. Fifty-six minutes left to see if the playboy next to you was really your counterpart or another unfortunate false alarm. “But that’s part of my charm, you never have to guess what I’m thinking, just need to ask. A lot people say they think it’s refreshing, but they’re probably just being tactful themselves.”

“Quite possibly,” he allowed, smiling a little bit despite himself. “You still didn’t give me yours.”

“Oh, right, I’m [name],” you answered flippantly.



“Nothing, I was just testing it out loud,” he snickered. “Rolls right out the tongue, doesn’t it?”

“And you are a terrible flirt.”

“‘But that’s a part of my charm’!” Tsuna mocked in a falsetto voice, clearly imitating you as his amber eyes glinted in mischief. He grinned roguishly when you giggled despite yourself. 

I could get used to this, you thought. A glance at the clock. Forty-three minutes.

You made to say something but were interrupted by a phone ringing and Tsuna’s playful expression melting into one that was rather… intense for lack of a better word. His tousled hairstyle seemed to shadow his face dramatically, dark brown eyebrows drawing together in a frown as his eyes seemed to flash orange (a trick of the light?) as he glared a hole into his coat pocket. Pursing his lips in an attempt to hide the snarl that briefly appeared, Tsuna muttered, “I need to take this”, finished off the tumbler in one go and slapping down money before hurriedly striding away from the bar counter, retrieving his phone and answering it.

He made a study of a harried man with too many responsibilities than what was probably healthy, hunched in shoulders and an agitated gait. You noticed for the first time that he was wearing a suit. It complimented him nicely, providing a flattering look for his butt especially. You could probably bounce coins off of it.

“I’d be careful with that one,” the bartender muttered as he took the empty glass, cleaning it. “He always has a different partner every time he comes in and you’re a good person, y/n. Don’t want you getting yourself hurt, especially with the crowd he throws his lot with.”

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. He doesn’t play for keeps but for fun. I caught a glance of his soulmark once; there’s a scar obscuring it, like it had been scratched out angrily with a knife. People like him? You gotta watch out for; they’ll eat you alive, if you’re not careful, take your heart along with ‘em.”

And with that ominous warning, he left you another pint before moving on to serve the other patrons. Have a little heart… The words haunted you, had always haunted you throughout your childhood. You had made a point to be kinder then, to try to make it so you would never hear those words uttered, because they always sounded so sad to you; a plea in a future that you were pretty sure you didn’t want. But things changed, people took advantage of your kindness, and you grew a backbone. Have a little heart…

You looked up as movement in your direction caught your eyes: Tsuna. You hesitated when he smiled at the eye contact. It seemed like a risk, to ‘have a little heart’ when there was the very real possibility of it being stolen with no regard to it.

But when the smile wavered a bit, almost unsurely, you felt your compassion make you want to take the risk, one last gamble. You grinned back and gave a saucy wink. Twenty-eight minutes left. You could do this for twenty-eight minutes.

As he slid back into his original seat beside you, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “The bartender mentioned you had a dark side.”

A surprise blink before an unreadable look crossed his face. Quietly, he joked, side-stepping the dig for information, “It’s what probably drew him to me.”

Most people who have probably taken the hint and dropped the topic, but you weren’t ‘most people’. Trying again, you prodded leadingly for clarification, “Your oh-so-mysterious dark side?”

“Sure, why, don’t you have one? Oh, wait, stupid question, I bet you’re one of those hopelessly delusional optimistics who dot their “i’s” with little hearts,” the tone was almost biting, buttons were obviously being pushed, meaning there was also some truth to what the bartender had said.

Only the slightest bit uneasy at the realization, you sniffed dismissively, “I’ll have you know, I have just as much of a dark side as the next person.”

He laughed but his tone of voice wasn’t all that amused. Actually, his voice didn’t give away his thoughts or emotions much at all. “Oh, really? Impress me.”

“I have a soulmark complex,” you admitted challengingly, sharp eyes catching the small twitch you got in response. “I used to hate mine. Still do, probably. I did everything I could to make sure it was never said to me. I’ve had nine false alarms. All of them ended badly. Usually with me getting into a fight, because people pissed me off when saying it. It makes me wonder how much worse yours must be that you would scratch it out, if it’s something that I’ve said or am going to say in the next ten minutes, or if you’re also going to be just another false alarm.”

“…I’m not drunk enough for this, but fuck it, why not? Something about you puts me in the sharing mood,” Tsuna muttered, eyes stormy and still glinting orange once in a while, despite the fact there were no candles or flickering light to create that affect that you were aware of. “I was bullied horrendously when I was younger because of mine, to the point where I learned it was better to keep it covered. Mine practically guaranteed that my counterpart would hate me. So, I went about convincing myself that I didn’t care, and after the first several partners, I believed it. I don’t need a counterpart to be happy when I can go out and find plenty of people willing to throw themselves at me with all the companionship I could ever want as many times as I want. I cut it out because I didn’t need a reminder of failure.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, “With an attitude like that, I can see why! I want to feel bad for the people you used so carelessly, but only a fool would fall for you. We’re not your consolation prize, Tsuna, so don’t treat people like one!“

Tsuna stiffened, eyes widening in disbelief before narrowing in consideration. “You know,” he began quietly, voice hushed but so, so dangerous with all the implications behind it. Despite yourself, despite your indignation with his playboy tendencies and the looming disappointment, you leaned in closer to hear better. “The truth is, it wasn’t just to remove the symbol of my failures as Dame-Tsuna, my weakness, but it was also to seal the vow I made that day: to make my counterpart swallow those words by becoming the biggest fool of them all.”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

“I’m going to make you fall in love with me.” Leaning forward across the bar, he kissed you, mouth moving possessively over your own, leaving you breathless and dazed in seconds.

“Damn,” you murmured, the moment he pulled away. “When you go and say things like that, when you do things like that, Tsuna, you make it hard for me to not like you.”

All Those Scattered Dreams

Jessica jolts awake. Her breaths come short and heavy and her eyes flicker around the unfamiliar room, adjusting to the dim light.

It takes another moment for her to realise where she is- Trish’s house, the spare room.  She closes her eyes and throws her head back against the pillow, breathing deeply. Just a dream, she thinks sardonically, it was just a fucking dream. She’s tired of dreaming.

At first, Jessica thinks Trish might not have heard her, but then she hears the shuffle of her friend’s footsteps down the hall. 

She sighs. “I’m fine, Trish.” she calls as soon as Trish appears in the doorway, all tired and disheveled, her hair falling out of the messy bun she’d tied it up in. With a slight pang, Jessica realises she’s probably not the only one of them who’s having trouble sleeping. 

Trish just tilts her head in that way of hers, and gives Jessica what she’s come to refer to as ‘the look’. “You don’t sound fine.” she says, and means it sincerely, but Jessica hears it as a challenge.

“Yeah, well.” 

Trish shakes her head, pauses, and then walks up to the bed. “You don’t have to be strong all the time you know.” she says eventually, perching herself on the edge. 

“I don’t? You mean you’ve worked out a way to make me normal?” Jessica asks dryly, the corner of her mouth curving upwards into a slight smirk.

Trish sighs, although for a brief moment there’s a slight curve to her mouth, the tell-tale signs of trying to contain a smile. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Besides, you’re perfectly normal you just have a-” 

“A gift. Yeah, I get it.” 

“Jessica.” Trish admonishes gently, exasperated. She purses her lips. “I just think it would do you good to open up sometimes.”

Jessica can see that Trish is choosing her words carefully, but that doesn’t stop the frustration she feels at her friend. 

“You’re kidding. ’Open up’? Jeez Trish! It’s been two days! I need some time first. Just let me sleep.” 

Jessica rolls over, her back to Trish. She really can’t be doing this right now. She’s tired and grumpy and it’s been two days and she’s not ready to talk about it. (Maybe somewhere in he mind she recognises the fact that she’s just delaying the inevitable; that she’ll have to deal with it sooner or later, but she opts to ignore this.)

There’s a part of her that feels guilty for dismissing Trish’s concern, but the rest of her couldn’t really give a fuck. It’ll be just another thing to deal with in the morning.

It’s silent for a while, the only sounds being their combined breathing. Truth be told, Jessica’s moderately glad for the company. She’s constantly annoyed by Trish’s never ending persistence, but right now her presence is a reassuring fact, a certainty. It feels almost nice.

Until Trish starts crying, that is. 

Jessica detects the change in the speed of her friend’s breathing, falling out of time from her own. Her first instinct is to get up and leave, give Trish some space, but something tells her that’s not the right thing to do. 

“Trish,” Jessica groans, dragging out the last syllable and pulling herself up into a sitting position. “Don’t do that. C’mon, you know I’m not good at this.” she says, although her voice is soft when she speaks.

“Sorry,” Trish says, wiping her eye on her frayed pyjama sleeve, “I just keep thinking about him, and how horrible it was, and how it’s nothing compared to what you went through for all those months-”

“Woah,” Jessica interrupts firmly, “Woah. Stop it. I’m not letting you do this to yourself, Trish. You don’t have to have been through what I did to feel sad about it. That’s stupid.”

Trish laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh that sounds strange coming out of her mouth. 

“How do you cope?” she asks then, quietly.

Jessica gives her a wry smile, “Whiskey, mainly.”

Trish rolls her eyes and Jessica watches as they fill up with tears again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising!” Jessica says but it comes out harsher than she’d meant it to and she lowers her voice again, “I’m the one who should be sorry, I let him control you.” She admits, the guilt she’s been feeling in the pit of her stomach for days threatening to rise up and choke her.

“Jessica. Listen to me,” Trish turns around so she’s facing Jessica, and reaches out, placing her hand on Jessica’s knee. Jessica is just about to rebut with a ‘spare me the lecture’ or something as equally snarky, but she holds it in. Something in Trish’s eyes makes her hold it in. “It’s not your fault, okay? Besides, what other choice did you have? You saved me. You saved everyone.”

“Well then I’m a shitty hero.” She says, wanting nothing more than to forget they’re having this conversation and go back to bed. She’s too tired to keep her guard up right now (Plus, it’s Trish, and Trish has always been god at catching Jessica with her guard down. Or maybe Jessica lets it down specifically for Trish, she’s not sure. Maybe there’s not that much of a difference.)

There’s a pause, and Jessica can practically hear all that’s been let unsaid suffocating them in the silence. “You wouldn’t have had to save me if I’d not lost the headphones anyway.” Trish says, and her hand is gone from Jessica’s knee. Jessica frowns, the spot where Trish’s hand had rested now cold.

“We knew there was a chance of that when we went in.” Jessica starts, because it’s true, but there’s a part of her that’s angry (irrationally angry) at Trish for trying to blame herself for this. Jessica’s not an idiot. She knows what Trish is doing, whether Trish knows it or not- she’s trying to take on the guilt so that she, Jessica, won’t have to. “You know as well as I do that Kilgrave would’ve just controlled someone to take them off of you anyway. He might’ve even told me to, and then we’d have been fucked.”

Jessica looks at Trish, who still seems unconvinced, her damp eyes not meeting Jessica’s own. “Fine. Look, Trish look at me.” Trish does, albeit reluctantly. “It’s not my fault. Okay? There. It’s not my fault, but it’s not yours either. Say it.”

Trish looks down at the floral pattern on the bedsheets, and then back up at Jessica, who raises her eyebrows expectantly, “It’s not my fault.” She says slowly. Jessica nods, satisfied.

“See? How easy was that.” 

Trish laughs. Wipes her eyes. Laughs again. “I came in here to make you feel better, not the other way around.”

“Just don’t expect this from me every night.” 

“Definitely not.” Trish shakes her head, more wisps of hair falling out to frame her elegant face. Trish opens her mouth to say something else, but closes it again, abruptly. Jessica frowns, bemused.

“What is it?” she prompts, not unkindly.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” Trish tries to dismiss it, waving a hand as if she’s trying to make Jessica’s concern to disappear.

“No, it’s something.” 

Trish stops, deliberating. Jessica can see she’s won when Trish sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I just wondered… If I could stay here tonight?” 

Jessica’s expecting her to elaborate, maybe ramble some, but Trish stays silently staring at her knees. Jessica smiles, and this time it’s a real smile. “Be my guest.” she announces, throwing the covers back and shuffling over to make room for Trish.

Trish blinks, shrugs, and climbs into the bed, adjusting the covers over them both.

Jessica feels at ease with Trish, something that’s lacking in her relationship with anyone else. She likes the time she spends in Trish’s company, the smell of her expensive perfume and somehow infinitely perfect appearance. Both things that are imminently obvious as they lie next to each other.

They sleep like that, Trish’s pyjama clad thigh pressed up against Jessica’s bare one, even though the bed is big enough for them to lay at opposite ends and not touch. The contact feels good, Jessica decides. Trish’s presence makes her feel safe, in a way that she hasn’t done since Luke. She’s grateful for it, for Trish. 

Maybe one day she’ll actually be able to tell Trish just how grateful she is.

anonymous asked:

i dunno if you'd be willing to write just cuddles? Like literally just them cuddling, what would phil do and how dan would respond to it. Ahh that's so vague i'm sorry

I’m 200% willing to write cuddles! trust me I live for fluff :)

-Phil was totally a cuddler, always snuggling up to someone, even just in a platonic way. And the thing was, no one ever minded because Phil lit up every room with his smile and his laugh and anyone who could have even a second of Phil’s time was lucky.

-Naturally (cause, y’now, it’s completely natural to basically be in love with your best friend) Dan gets jealous that Phil goes around just hugging people and being the cutest, cuddliest shit he can be, and all Dan gets is the occasional shoulder pat or rub, or an elbow nudge. The light touch still makes Dan’s stomach feel all flip-floppy with butterflies anyway.

-But even the rare touch from Phil feels wrong, like he’s being cheated of something. And it’s stupid because who is Dan to feel jealous? It’s not like he’s Phil’s boyfriend or anything (even just thinking that word makes his heart skip a beat in his chest). 

-Dan wants full on three-hour-long cuddles that makes him giddy and happy and calm, dammit. He doesn’t think it’s too much to ask, really. And sure he could go out and get himself a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but he would bet every last dollar that they wouldn’t be as good as snuggling up with Phil (but maybe he’s biased because of that whole “in love with my best friend” thing). 

-Dan doesn’t seem like much of a cuddler, and then there’s that whole neck issue, which isn’t really that bad when it’s Phil touching him, but in reality Dan might be the most affectionate, cuddly person alive. But, of course, it’s only one certain person’s cuddles that Dan wants. 

-It was one of those lazy days; the ones where you just want to lounge around and do nothing, maybe watch some movies or read a book. But most of all, the most important part of lazy days, you want to curl up in bed with a nice blanket and thousands of pillows. It was a lazy day in Dan and Phil’s household.

-They spent the day on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, both of them bringing their own blankets but by the end of their first movie the blankets merged together to form one big blanket, the bowl resting where gray and black meets bright blue and green.

-Hours later after a movie marathon both boys end up much closer than they were before they decided to be lazy at the beginning of the day. Dan’s legs are on Phil’s lap and Phil’s head is rested on his shoulder and it’s all very comfortable and just… Nice. More than nice, spectacular.

-Neither of them feel uncomfortable with it, or at least Dan is hoping that Phil wasn’t as he tried to keep his face neutral, not wanting Phil to question why he was smiling so hard his face was practically splitting in two.

-The last movie had long since finished but they hadn’t bothered to put anything else on. Just as Dan got up, mumbling about putting on an anime, Phil grabs his wrist and says, “Where ya going, bear?” and Dan practically melts into a puddle of goo on the floor. Bear. That was Dan’s kryptonite, and even though Phil probably has no idea, Dan throws him a little glare anyway. It’s unfair.

-Dan starts to reply that he was just going to change the tv when Phil, still laying across the couch with his fringe all mussed up, goes, “Mm-mm, stay here. I’d miss you too much,” with the most ridiculous pout Dan had ever seen.

- ‘Is this flirting?’ Dan wonders, or panics more like it. He’s a little rusty in the flirting department but Phil is oh so charming when he wants to be. ‘Am I being flirted with? Is Phil serious?’ is what goes on in Dan’s mind on a loop.

-Dan moves back to the couch anyway and even allows himself to lay his head on Phil’s chest, feeling a little daring from Phil’s flirting (Dan decided that Phil is flirting but its whatever cause friends flirt playfully sometimes right? )

-He feels Phil’s chest vibrate when he chuckles and murmurs out a sleepy, “you’re so cute, bear.”

- “What,” Dan says, thinking that he’s having hallucinations now or something because surely he heard wrong or-

-“’Said you’re cute,” Phil replies like it was the simplest answer ever and Dan can tell that he’s tired because his blinking gets slower and his nose scrunches up with yawns that he’s holding in. Phil almost pulled off being nonchalant about it except that he’s got a bright pink blush on his cheeks like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Dan’s so happy he’s practically bursting with it, dimples visible and cheeks an equally bright pink as Phil.

-Phil pouts again for Dan to come join him on the beat up couch (he’s ridiculous) and Dan does, laying half on top of Phil with his arms around him like a koala bear and now he’s finally getting the Phil Lester cuddle that he’s been longing for. 

-They lay in comfortable silence, legs all tangled together, Phil’s hand rubbing soothing circles on Dan’s back and Dan inhaling Phil’s scent (Phil’s smells like his favorite vanilla soap and earthy shampoo and just Phil), and they also have their normal banter and laughing and almost knee each other in the crotch but its makes a warm feeling settle in their chests and it feels familiar like Dan’s always belonged in Phil’s arms, and Phil in his. 

-Phil moves things to his bed cause that couch cannot be good for their poor backs. There they can spoon and Phil immediately goes to be the big spoon which is fine by Dan. Phil makes Dan feel so safe and loved and it’s so comforting.

-Phil places little kisses to the back of Dan’s head and when Dan playfully turns around to tell him to quit it he gets kisses on his forehead and his cheeks and his eyelids that are squeezed shut from laughing. And finally, the cutest kiss on the lips. Its so innocent and soft and just perfect that Dan could cry.

-For the next few weeks, which basically means forever now that Dan knows that Phil feels the same way, Phil gets attacked with surprise hugs which turns into ninety percent of their time being used to snuggle in bed and they hold hands at every chance and they’re always sneaking little touches when they think no one is looking. Dan has never been more giddy and blushy in his whole life. And Phil is more than happy to show his love and affection through endless cuddles.

some tooth rotting fluff for y'all lol hope you enjoyed! xxx

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