i've been laughing about this post since i came up with this last night

Stripulation (Rafael Barba x Reader)

AN: This … wasn’t how I thought this blog would lose its Barba virginity. But life is funny that way. Anyway, I doubt Barba’s secret in “Know It All” will be anything like this but this was still my take on it. And God am I awful for it.

@ohbelieveyoume I sincerely hope you enjoy because my perfectionism is screaming right now *dies*

Everyone made at least one bad decision in their lifetime. This was something that Rafael Barba, as an attorney, knew as an absolute guarantee. Granted, the poor choices he usually dealt with on a regular basis were either truly heinous acts or ones that just made his job harder, all committed by other people against his warnings or better judgement. Neither of which impressed the attorney in the slightest: He prided himself on being a self-made man who stuck to his guns in the face of chaos, always keeping a leveled head to the point of blatant cockiness.

If not for the fact that you had been dating him (and could therefore assure that, yes, Carisi, hand on the Bible, Rafi is human), you would have perhaps fallen to the oft assumed notion that Rafael was relatively without a dramatically erroneous decision to his slate. This was not to say that he was perfect by any means: Putting cold and calculated logic a step or two ahead of emotion, calling off dates to work on cases, and being so stubborn as to not want to lose even a personal argument were not traits of his that you favored.

But considering that he always made sure to right those wrongs, made you feel like a member of Manhattan royalty when he could, he was practically an errorless outlier compared to a majority of men living in New York.

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akigriffin  asked:

I've always had this headcanon where Maruis and Cosette are each other's first love, and it's as sickening cute as it is in the book and everyone thinks they'll be together forever. Then they both realize they're bi and not actually in love anymore (two separate discoveries). They break up, stay BFFs and fall in love with other people. (namely Courf and Ep)

Hey, this speaks to me on a veeeery personal level, friend. This post will be long and have feelings and stuff.


Cosette had been thinking about things for months. Unpleasant things, things that made her mood change and her mouth curve downwards in an uncharacteristic mope.

She could deny and try to pretend for as long as she wanted. But when it really came down to the quiet moments like these, she knew in her heart that her relationship with Marius had run its course. They felt much more like friends than lovers, more like roommates than cohabiting partners.

The worst thing about it was that everybody perceived them as perfect. She’d lost count at the amount of times somebody had aww’d in their general direction, described them as goals or told them they were perfect for each other.

But they weren’t, and it hurt- but Cosette was sick of pretending. She was also sick of fantasising about dates with other, pretend people. 

It was an awful call of judgement, to make such a sudden decision to break things off over a petty squabble over dinner. But it wasn’t the little thing that broke her, it was the collection of little things that became a mountain of one big unspoken thing. She was unhappy, and they had stopped bringing out the best in each other a long time ago.

There was crying and frustrated arguments and desperate attempts for each of the other to understand what they were saying, but by 9:00PM that night, they were done.

Marius & Cosette the perfect couple were no more.

Marius and Cosette the individuals were just beginning. 

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a million universes away (lams oneshot)

summary: Alexander Hamilton was never one for sobriety; all he really wanted was a hookup. John Laurens was quite the opposite, yet they found their way into the same bed on the same night, and perhaps Alexander should have learned his lesson. But he didn’t.

word count: 1724

When the lights flickered at the edges and the world seemed to glow, bathed in a warm yellow light, that was as close as Alexander reckoned he would ever get to peace of mind. He lost his mind under the glow, with one hand clutching a bottle of beer and the other draped around the shoulders of a boy who wouldn’t matter come morning. Every thought had been wiped from his mind, replaced by a hazy cloud drifting about his head.

Alexander lived for these nights. He lived for the pure bliss of it all, for the closeness of another body. A hand to hold, a heart to beat beside his own. Company; someone to share the night with.

He was twenty two, yet he traveled through time as though it didn’t exist at all.

Bottle pressed to his lips, he took a swig, and he was fifteen, drink in hand. The first time he’d ever experienced what it was like to be drunk. It had been a glowing red and white affair of both passion and innocence, for there had been a girl. There was always someone, but back then it had been a girl, one whose name Alexander couldn’t quite recall in his mess of a mind. They’d kissed, that much he was sure of. Red. A red tinted room, the red lipstick smeared on Alexander’s face: a tattoo, of sorts.

Yet, it was the first. The first drink, the first kiss, the first time to have seen a girl in such a manner, wild and free. The firstness of it all added that sprinkle of naivety to the hazy and almost forgotten memory.

“Where’s your mind at?”

The sound of a voice, a real one, broke through Alexander’s mind as he set the bottle down on the bedside table.

“Nowhere.” Alexander’s words came out slurred as he struggled to come up with a satisfactory answer.

“What are you thinking?” The boy tried once more in an attempt to break through the wall of silence Alexander had created.

With arms encircled around the boy, it was as though Alexander didn’t plan on ever letting him go- and despite every ounce of common sense left in him, he would have quite enjoyed that. He pulled the boy closer, pinning him against the cream colored walls of the bedroom, and he let himself kiss him, allowing his body to take control and let go of his mind.

The boy was the night itself. Warm, like the moon, and with the sharp bite of the stars. And Alexander, he was the darkness, the formidably vast blanket concealing the stars from view. He’d stolen them away; for tonight, the boy was his.

Alexander fell back against the mattress, breathless but, at least for the moment, content. Yet the boy remained rooted firmly to the ground, eyes fixed intently upon Alexander’s.

“What’s your name?” the boy asked, words only slightly slurred together.

“Unimportant.” Alexander dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, and he motioned for the boy to join him in bed.

“I can’t fuck you if I don’t know your name.” He was persistent; Alexander liked to think that he was more so.

“And I can’t fuck you if you do,” Alexander countered. His voice came out as a soft whine. Begging, pleading for the boy to join him.

“I’m John.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into the hint of a smirk; he seemed to be mocking Alexander, yet he wasn’t quite sure how.

He relented at John’s smile, letting out a defeated sigh. “Alex.” He settled for his high school nickname. It was only a word, after all, a small price to pay to the boy who’d made his world disappear for the night.

And so John joined him, and Alexander found his mind to become a void. There was nothing left, with nothing to be desired.

He distanced himself from his thoughts until his mind and body might’ve been two different things all together. He’d simply chosen not to pay attention to the swirling mess inside his head and to focus instead on the external world.

The room seemed to resonate gold. Not the polished, fake gold that you’d see up on display- not preened and ground down to perfection. It was the sort of gold you found yourself, the great shimmering lumps beneath the earth. A last hope.

Alexander grasped at a handful of the sheet as if hoping for something to anchor him to reality, but the pull was too strong. He surrendered to it.

He let himself feel both what was there and what wasn’t. He let himself feel John’s body pressed up against his, for that was all that was left: two men and a shared drink.

Alexander drew his mind to an alternate universe, one in which the same Alexander and the same John were having sex in the same bed, but in a vastly different context. Perhaps they were dating, or even just friends. They had some sort of relationship, at the very least, one in which they genuinely cared for one another, rather than just for the company that was provided.

With a beautiful face in mind, a beautiful time, and a beautiful place, Alexander came. The place wasn’t perhaps his rundown apartment, and the face not quite matching John’s, but it would do for his late night fantasy.

There was small hint of a smile dancing across his face; it hadn’t seen the world in quite some time, yet this was a mere ghost of one, not entirely real. It was somewhat faked, more for John’s benefit than his own, but Alexander found himself to be content as he lie in bed next to John.

“I should go.” John exhaled gently, breath warm against Alexander’s cheek.

“Don’t.” Alexander let his hands move of their own accord, tracing the shape of John’s face. “Don’t leave.”

He didn’t care so much for John; it could have been anyone in bed with him, but what mattered was that they stayed. Not forever, but the night. It longed for the comfort of someone to share it with.

John gave him the obligatory smile. “You’re quite beautiful, you know.”

It was evident that those words meant nothing; John had only said that because he’d felt like he had to. Just like they both had to smile and laugh and pretend as though they didn’t find anything wrong with this.

Alexander breathed out a shaky sigh. “I’m not beautiful.” He met John’s gaze from behind dark eyelashes, wet with tears that he hadn’t yet noticed.

“Don’t cry, love.” John ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair, eyes full of false concern. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

“Don’t call me pretty.” There was an unmistakable note of anger in Alexander’s voice, causing John’s mouth to turn downwards into a frown, confused at how Alexander had taken the compliment as quite the opposite.

He wasn’t pretty; he was a mess. He was good for a one night stand, good to have a drink with, but he certainly wasn’t pretty. There was nothing to be desired in him, with unwashed hair and empty eyes. Nothing beautiful about the undeniable fact that he couldn’t survive without a drink in hand.

“You are,” John insisted, not yet having picked up on what exactly was going on. “And you’re not bad in bed either.”

It was all of seven seconds before John smiled again; Alexander counted each and every one, waiting for that warm glow to spread over his face. People were more attractive when they weren’t frowning.

“That’s just about the only thing I’m not bad at.” The light, airy tone suggested that he was joking, but his face conveyed the deeper meaning. “I’d love to feel something for you. For anyone.”

“I like you,” John told him, gazing longingly into Alexander’s eyes.

Alexander shook his head. “You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.” He was hopeful, smiling as though he had already fallen in love.

This wasn’t love; Alexander was smart enough to know that. Love ought to have meant more than just a stolen kiss in the dark, a mindless fuck.

“I think you should leave.” Alexander found himself speaking the words before he’d even considered the affect they might have had. He didn’t want to face the lonely reality of his life, the empty room, the overwhelming silence- but this was more than he’d bargained for.

“I’m sorry.” John pushed himself up off of the bed, gathering his clothes from off the floor. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Just go,” Alexander interrupted, refusing to meet John’s gaze for fear that he’d lose the last shred of self control in him and find himself unable to resist the temptation.

“I…” John trailed off when he saw the look on Alexander’s face.

He dressed himself in silence before giving Alexander one more fleeting glance and disappearing into the night.

Alexander found himself with nothing to do, the walls seemingly closing in as the moments passed.

He was alone, a rare occurrence.

He sat, with little regard for anything at all. Perhaps the time passed, perhaps it didn’t; Alexander paid little attention to such a trivial matter as time.

Searching for something to love, he fell. It was his weakness, loving people, or in this particular case, not loving people.

Perhaps he’d been harsh. Perhaps he ought to have paid more thought to John, to all of his hookups. He jumped up, running in the direction in which John had left, but it had been too long since John had walked out that door.

He stood in the doorway, desperately scanning the street for the boy he knew was long gone. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love; when had loving someone ever resulted in anything but disaster?

Alexander was far from happy, his pain eating him from inside, yet it was so far from him. After all that time he’d spent distancing himself from his emotions, he reckoned it was near impossible to undo that.

Yet, he allowed himself to smile. He allowed himself to dream of the possibility of loving someone.

And perhaps lost up in the millions of universes out there, was a world in which he could scan the crowd and catch a face that he truly longed to see.

morethanprinceofcats  asked:

I've been reading your ASOIAF meta all day and really enjoy it, but I just read your post about Bran's assassin being sent by Joffrey - I was under the impression that was a red herring, because Tyrion and Jaime never pieced together that it would be Littlefinger. It would be yet another event that looks like Joffrey's doing but was really LF (Ned's execution being the other) and ofc LF wouldn't tell Sansa he sent an assassin after her brother to help provoke war. How do we know it's Joff?

Because the evidence points to Joff. (see also.) Where Littlefinger comes in is the misdirection, the lies about who had the dagger when.

You see, it was Littlefinger’s dagger that he lost to Robert in a bet on the Jaime-Loras joust at the tourney for Joffrey’s 12th birthday. Almost everyone bet on Jaime, including Littlefinger and Tyrion. The only one who didn’t was Robert:

“Who do you think our champion will be today? Have you seen Mace Tyrell’s boy? The Knight of Flowers, they call him. Now there’s a son any man would be proud to own to. Last tourney, he dumped the Kingslayer on his golden rump, you ought to have seen the look on Cersei’s face. I laughed till my sides hurt.”

—Robert Baratheon, AGOT, Eddard VII (Chapter 30)

…and when Loras upset Jaime, Robert won the Valyrian steel & dragonbone dagger from Littlefinger.

But what Littlefinger told Catelyn was that Tyrion had won the dagger. Which was a straight-up lie, as Tyrion never would bet against Jaime. Which both he and Jaime told Catelyn:

“How did Littlefinger tell you I came by this dagger of his? Answer me that.”
“You won it from him in a wager, during the tourney on Prince Joffrey’s name day.”
“When my brother Jaime was unhorsed by the Knight of Flowers, that was his story, no?”
“It was,” she admitted. A line creased her brow.


“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted,” Tyrion began, “there is a serious flaw in Littlefinger’s fable. Whatever you may believe of me, Lady Stark, I promise you this—I never bet against my family.”

—AGOT, Tyrion IV (Chapter 31)

“Then why did the assassin have his dagger?”
“What dagger was this?”
“It was so long,” she said, holding her hands apart, “plain, but finely made, with a blade of Valyrian steel and a dragonbone hilt. Your brother won it from Lord Baelish at the tourney on Prince Joffrey’s name day.”
Lannister poured, drank, poured, and stared into his wine cup. “This wine seems to be improving as I drink it. Imagine that. I seem to remember that dagger, now that you describe it. Won it, you say? How?”
“Wagering on you when you tilted against the Knight of Flowers.” Yet when she heard her own words Catelyn knew she had gotten it wrong. “No… was it the other way?”
“Tyrion always backed me in the lists,” Jaime said, “but that day Ser Loras unhorsed me. A mischance, I took the boy too lightly, but no matter. Whatever my brother wagered, he lost… but that dagger did change hands, I recall it now. Robert showed it to me that night at the feast. His Grace loved to salt my wounds, especially when drunk. And when was he not drunk?”
Tyrion Lannister had said much the same thing as they rode through the Mountains of the Moon, Catelyn remembered. She had refused to believe him. Petyr had sworn otherwise, Petyr who had been almost a brother, Petyr who loved her so much he fought a duel for her hand… and yet if Jaime and Tyrion told the same tale, what did that mean? The brothers had not seen each other since departing Winterfell more than a year ago.

—ACOK, Catelyn VII

(Note the sequential chapters in AGOT carving holes in Littlefinger’s story.) So the dagger belonged to Robert, and was in the traveling armory that went to Winterfell. Where it was available for Joffrey to steal and give to the footpad he hired to kill Bran, hoping it would please his father. (As Robert had stated, where his children could hear it, that it would be better if the boy would be put out of his misery.)

And when Tyrion figured it out, he unfortunately said enough to let Joffrey know he had:

“Have a care, Your Grace,” Ser Addam Marbrand warned the king. “Valyrian steel is perilously sharp.”
“I remember.” Joffrey brought Widow’s Wail down in a savage two-handed slice, onto the book that Tyrion had given him. The heavy leather cover parted at a stroke. “Sharp! I told you, I am no stranger to Valyrian steel.”


“You and Lady Sansa owe me a better present, Uncle Imp. This one is all chopped to pieces.”
Tyrion was staring at his nephew with his mismatched eyes. “Perhaps a knife, sire. To match your sword. A dagger of the same fine Valyrian steel… with a dragonbone hilt, say?”
Joff gave him a sharp look. “You… yes, a dagger to match my sword, good.”

—ASOS, Sansa IV

And note, Littlefinger was in King’s Landing while Robert and family were in Winterfell. If he had somehow heard about Bran, and decided to kill him for whatever reason, he would have used a good assassin, and not armed the man with a dagger that was known to have been his, don’t you think? (Consider Jon Arryn’s poisoning or Joffrey’s poisoning, where nobody suspects Littlefinger in the slightest.)

The red herring in this plot was what Littlefinger said in AGOT to spark the war between Stark and Lannister, that we were supposed to believe that Tyrion (or Jaime or Cersei) sent the assassin. What Jaime and Tyrion figured out in ASOS was the truth. And well, Tyrion’s been kind of too busy lately to remember it was Littlefinger’s lies that caused this whole mess. Might be something he’ll deal with later, we’ll see.

And as for GRRM’s word on the matter:

[Did Littlefinger influence Joffrey to try and kill Bran?]

Well, Littlefinger did have a certain hidden influence over Joff… but he was not at Winterfell, and that needs to be remembered.

forum chat, July 2008

angelthainguyen  asked:

can you do a modern au where eun owns a toy shop and soonduk and so own a martial arts center and hae soo is a famous beauty blogger?? idk how to weave these altogether but i just have these head canons?? (btw, the-wolf-puppy is my side-blog and i've been following and loving your writing and all your moon lovers posts!!)

I love your side blog! I’m pretty sure I’ve liked every post on there haha Thanks for the prompt & enjoy! :) 

Of course with concealer, you always want to go a shade or two lighter than your actual skin tone, otherwise you’ll actually draw attention to your blemish. 

So I want to end this post with a final tip. If you have dry skin, try sticking with cream or stick concealer, and if you have normal or oily skin, go for the liquid! 

Thanks for reading and I’ll post again soon! \^o^/

Soo shut her laptop and stretched her arms, feeling the stress lift off her shoulders.  

She had been in a writing slump for a whole week, not knowing what to post on her blog. Not to mention, she was constantly receiving messages from her readers asking for another update. 

It wasn’t until she started experimenting with different types of concealers that she finally found something worth writing about. 

So’s scar had always made him a bit insecure, whether or not he liked to admit it. Whenever they’d go out, he always wore a hat or made an excuse to avoid crowded areas. 

One night, she offered to apply makeup on him.

So refused at first. He was too prideful and makeup was too “feminine”, but after much persuasion, she got him to agree.

“You can’t even tell,” she said. “Look!” 

She handed him the mirror and watched his eyes widen in surprise. It had been a long time since he was able to look at himself without staring at the wretched scar. 

“I guess it looks alright,” he mumbled. 

“Just alright?” she asked, snatching the mirror from him. She placed his face between her hands and smiled. “It looks great, So. Now we can actually go to the marketplace together and eat street food without you worrying about people staring at you. We can go to the park during the daytime!” 

“All you care about are dates dates dates,” he said, rolling his eyes.  

Soo frowned and let go of his face. She grabbed her makeup brushes and began placing them back into the bag, clearly upset by his reaction. 

Just as she began to walk away, So grabbed her arm and pulled her onto his lap. “I just meant,” he said, kissing her neck. “That I’d much rather spend my time with you here. Or more preferably, in my bed. Not surrounded by a bunch of strangers.” 

Soo tried to pull herself off him but he responded by tightening his hold on her. She began to laugh as he tickled her sides, his face still nuzzled against her neck. 

“This is amazing, Eun!” 

Soo stepped into the toy shop, So following behind her. She had dragged him from bed earlier that morning to come visit Eun. 

“It’s the grand opening. We have to go!” 

She spun around, amazed by all the toys and gadgets surrounding the store. Eun quickly stepped around the counter and pointed at a vintage slingshot in the display case.

“That’s my favorite,” he said, pulling it out. “It’s made exactly like how they were during the Goryeo era. Pretty cool, huh?” 

“Are you still a child?” So asked.

Soo elbowed him in the side. “What he means to say, is that this place looks great. We’re so excited for you.” 

“Hey So…your face! The scar’s gone,” Eun noted. 

“See? I told you!” she said, grinning up at him. So touched the side of his face but she quickly swatted his hand away. “You’ll mess it up if you keep touching it.” 

Eun’s face broke out in a grin as the front door opened. 

“You’re here!” he yelled out, quickly handing Soo the slingshot and rushing to the door. “I thought you had a class!” 

So turned and saw Soon Duk unwinding the scarf around her neck, her martial arts uniform peeking out under her coat. 

“Yeah, I thought you had a class,” So repeated. “I definitely don’t remember you having the day off.” 

“I had my father cover for me,” she explained. “He’s been wanting to teach a class.” 

“You’re father?” he scoffed. “I didn’t know he was in town…”

“Got in last night,” Eun said, taking his wife’s coat. 

“He meant to tell you but-” Soon Duk’s eyes widened when she saw So’s face, the scar nowhere in sight. “Your scar…”

“It’s amazing isn’t it?” Soo said, grabbing onto So’s hand. She knew he didn’t like all the attention and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “The power of makeup.” 

“Ah, speaking of makeup,” Soon Duk walked over to her and pointed at her face. “I need some more of your face masks, Soo. It’s getting so dry!” 

Soo offered to bring some by later that day and began walking around the store. She couldn’t believe how big a toy shop could really be until now. Eun really outdid himself. 

“How long are we staying here?” So asked, glancing around at all the toys. 

“We’ll leave in a little bit,” she said, pulling him behind a shelf of dolls. “But first…” 

Soo pushed him back into the wall and smiled up at him before placing a light kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, So stared down at her with amusement in his eyes.

“What was that for?” 

“For being such a trooper today,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “I know you hate all the attention but you came out anyway.” 

“Well if you’re going to act like this all the time, maybe I should get out more…” 

Soo slapped him on the arm but continued to rest her head against his chest. 

Bing bing! 

Soo pulled out her phone and saw that the screen was full of messages. 

- Thanks for the new post, unnie! 

- Soo, the concealer tips were great. I’ve been having trouble finding the right kind but now I know which ones work with my skin type. 

- Yay a new post!

She smiled at all the replies and put her phone back in her purse. 

“Ready to go home?” she asked. 

So grabbed her hand and began walking towards the front of the store. “Well, I was thinking of taking a stroll around the park, but if you want to go home…”

“No! Let’s go!” she yelled out. “I mean, if you want to. I think it’s a great idea.” 

The corners of his lips twitched before his smile erupted into a laugh. “Since you say so, I guess we’ll have to go now.” 

They said goodbye to Eun and Soon Duk before heading out the door. Despite the cold weather, Soo felt the warmest she’d ever been. 

Note:  I just feel like Modern AUs have to be fluffy since they’re going through so much shit right now haha I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Now off to study for my exam! (Maybe) 

thebeckyford  asked:

Thanks for the heads up! I've removed the .s so let's see if this works a second time! :) Hi! So I saw you're taking prompts and I'd like to submit one please :) it's based on this gifset: quant-um-fizzx*tumblr*com/post/116549499149 of Oliver boxing with the atom headset and basically I'd love an olicity au where Oliver teaches Felicity to box. Thank you!!

A/N: I apologize for how long it took me to write this and I’m not even sure it’s any good. I’m not quite happy with where I ended it but I didn’t know what else to do so hopefully you still like it! :)

tagging: amellthirst lieutenantsmoak queenollies sorrywhatever kcntclark wifeysmoaks oliversjonas curtlazars smoakinamell dropoutboys pansexualsmoak olicitykisses snowssmoak queensagents


Growing up in Las Vegas, Felicity had seen her fair share of boxing matches. She might not have been old enough to watch them live at the time, but since her mother worked a lot of the events as a cocktail waitress they got the fights for free on pay per view. Felicity would sit at home in their little studio apartment, eyes glued to the screen as she watched to men beat each other to a bloody pulp. But instead of being grossed out or uncomfortable by watching it, she was fascinated.

Which is why she was now standing outside Verdant Gym, duffle bag in hand. She had been living in Starling City for a few months now, having moved there after finishing college because of a job opportunity. When out at the bar one night with some coworkers she heard some people talking about a boxing gym downtown. Apparently the owner used to be really good but then he got into some boating accident that ended his career. Most people fall off the deep end after something like that, but this guy hadn’t. He might not be able to step into the ring himself anymore, but that didn’t stop him from teaching others that aspired to; something that Felicity really admired.

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Summary : For her, he’d gladly fall from grace to protect her from harm. For him, she’d gladly face the great devil himself if it would wipe him of all sin. Nalu.  FT Angst Week Day 7: Fairy Tale.

AN: This literally came in the middle of the night when i accidentally fell of my bed and whacked the side of my head. I guess i should do that more often (or not?) cause bloody hell this was long! It started out as a prompt for another day, but then i realized, i rather invest my time into writing one prompt with all my heart (and still rather painful head) than to write many half-assed ones. So enjoy the ride ya’ll, cause i got a tad literature-ly here~

Etherious Natsu Dragneel prowled the bloodstained war grounds with a feral grin, eyes alight with a wild gleam as he reaped each dirty, mortal souls with glee, feeling the rush of pure ecstasy and euphoria racing through his veins as their blood spilled onto the dirt and ran down his arms.

He licked each bloodied talon with relish, slowing cornering a human to a wall, savouring the look of pure horror and fear in those puny black eyes as he raised his gleaming claws for the kill.


A bright flash of light, and the demon was sent flying, with ease, he unfurled his wings, and landed softly to the ground, accessing the new arrival with amusement.

Snapping a gleaming golden key from her belt, the woman stepped in front of the mortal and barked sharply, her eyes trained determinedly at her foe, “Hurry! Run to Fairy Tail, tell them I sent you!”

“Who are-“


The two circled each other as the survivor scrambled away, and E.N.D grinned widely, baring his fangs at her, “To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting an angel such as you?”

She scoffed, blowing a few wayward blond strands from her face in contempt, “I’m no angel, and I certainly don’t need to be one to take down a filthy demon like you!”

As she charged at him, the demon E.N.D simply licked his lips, “Feisty, I like them feisty!”

Gold and crimson clashed.

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I turned my phone back on this morning to find a series of fucked up texts from my roommate

credit to- TheRealMugen

My phone was off most of last night because I broke my charger. I thought it was weird that Adam hadn’t come out of his room at all during that time. He usually takes a nap after his Trig class, but I assumed he must have stepped out without me knowing or something. I kept knocking on his door, but it was locked and he wasn’t replying. But he doesn’t usually lock his bedroom door when he leaves.

Just this morning I finally went out and got a phone charger. When I turned it back on, I had all of these texts from him.

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Louis is staring blankly at his Mac screen when he feels someone move in behind him.

“Don’t,” he sighs, reaching up to run his hands through his already tousled hair. “Just, I don’t know, sit down and help me choose a fucking pram, Liam.”

Liam drags over a stool and sits next to him, close enough that their knees nudge together and he can feel the heat from Liam’s body beside him.

He scrolls down for a few seconds before he switches tabs to where some dude with glasses and an annoyingly smug look in his eyes is comparing different brands and models. He’s been reading about pushchairs for about the last four days, squinting at his phone screen in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep and switching between different reviewers, trying to decide who looks most trustworthy.

Honestly, none of them do. This bloody pram is going to be transporting the most important thing in the fucking world and he can’t make a decision because none of the so-called fucking experts can agree on what the safest bloody pushchair is.

“Bit early for all this isn’t it, mate?” Liam says eventually. He keeps his voice low and soft, and fuck but Louis knows that tone. It’s his Daddy fucking Direction tone, and isn’t that the joke of the fucking century right now?

“My mum reckons the Phil and Ted,” he says.

“Well, she’d probably know, right?” Liam’s voice is teasing, but Louis can’t help the way he tenses up at the tone.

It feels a lot like censure.

“Briane reckons the Bugaboo,” he says like Liam hasn’t spoken. “Says that’s got the highest safety ratings but fuck knows where she got that info from.”

Liam keeps quiet this time, and Louis finds himself rambling to fill in the awkward, terrible silence that’s surrounded him since he had to sit the band down and explain what the fuck was going on. “There’s this one website that Silver Cross is the best one but this other website says iCandy. Like, why can’t they all just agree on the one pram? How are you meant to choose?”

Liam reaches over him and turns the Mac off.

“Hey, I was doing something pretty fucking important here Liam,” Louis says, but the bite has gone from his voice. He sounds tired and young and god, he sounds scared.

“Lou, you’re gonna be a great dad,” Liam says sincerely enough that Louis wants to punch him in his earnest face. Except he also wants to maybe bury his face in Liam’s broad shoulder and close his eyes and pretend he’s 18 again when his biggest worry was making Liam like him and whether anyone would notice that he had the least amount of solos in the band. “The best dad in the world. Maybe even equal with my dad, you know?”

Louis manages to laugh at that, although his throat is tight enough to make it painful. “No way, Liam. Geoff is the dream, you know? No one can live up to that standard.”

“Reckon you will though,” Liam says doggedly. “And Mark. He’s a great dad, yeah?”

Louis blinks a few times before he can let out a croaky “Yeah.”

“You’re not gonna be like him, you know,” Liam says softly. “You’re gonna go to every school play and call every night if you’re not home and your baby will grow up knowing how much their dad loves them, okay?”

“God shut up, Liam,” Louis says shakily. He rubs his hand over his face and he’s so off-kilter that he lets Liam grab his hand and hold onto it, the way he used to do with Liam during his BFF-campaign.

“Alright,” Liam says easily enough that Louis glances over to see a small smile playing on Liam’s stupid lips. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Louis stares at their linked fingers for a few minutes before he reaches for the keyboard with his other hand. “Either help me pick a bloody pram Liam or fuck off.”

“I already texted my mum, she swears by the Phil and Ted,” Liam murmurs. “That’s two mums, with like, ten kids between them. Reckon that’s good enough for me.”

The cursor hovers over the Phil and Ted image for a moment before Louis clicks, and feels a tiny weight lift off his shoulders.

“Next question then,” Louis says and doesn’t react when Liam squeezes his hand gently. “What colour?”

“Can’t go wrong with black,” Liam says with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Louis mumbles. “Black is good.”

“Durable,” Liam says solemnly. “Hides marks and shit. And you know your kid is going to be a messy brat.”

You’re a messy brat,” Louis grumbles. He’s put the black Phil and Ted in his basket and he’s currently browsing the accompanying umbrellas and rain covers and plastic mugs to fit in the cup holder on the pram. Who fucking knew prams came with cup holders?

He lets Liam sneak his arm around Louis’ shoulder as he leans forward and starts rambling on about the merits of a leather changing bag that makes Louis’ head spin. He not-so-subtly drops his head onto Liam’s shoulder and neither of them mention it as Liam’s hand slips down to his waist and his fingers stroke the warm skin under his shirt.

He thinks maybe he’ll actually be okay, somehow. But he stays where he is for the moment, and lets Liam’s warmth surround him.

You’re Just A Number 3/?

Summary: AU Some say it was fate, others say luck, most say it was just a wrong number (basically Caroline and Stefan meet over a text sent to the wrong number) 

Part 1 Part 2 

It had been exactly 2 weeks, 4 days, 3 hours and 37 minutes since she had spoken to her mystery wrong number. Not that she was counting. The phone remained fairly quiet with just the odd text from Bonnie and a few phone calls from work, mostly discussing her childish behaviour displayed in the recent meeting and her promising it would never happen again. Of course it didn’t because the reason why it had occurred in the first place had gone rogue leaving a much stressed Caroline even more stressed. She often thought about it at night, about how one stupid conversation with one mistaken wrong number could have affected her so deeply. How he left her so calm and relaxed but also made her feel young again, like she was hiding her secret boyfriend making the butterflies he gave hers and only hers.

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Preference #396: He makes fun of your obsession for a show

Niall: He didn’t even ask anymore if you would go out on Tuesday night. He knew the answer was no, as long as your favorite show was playing. You could simply record it, but you never did. No, you had to see it live. It was too important to miss by even a minute. ”this obsession you have with this show is not healthy,” Niall joked, when he wanted to take you to a big industry party on Tuesday, and knew it would never happen. You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue towards him. “I love one show. Let me enjoy it.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, “I would if that didn’t mean I can’t have your company to things on certain nights.” You laughed and shrugged your shoulders, “It is one night Niall. I believe you’ll be fine.” “I’ll miss you,” he told you, knowing there were no words to convince you to come. You kissed him quickly, “I’ll miss you too.”

Liam: Once your show started, it was as if you went into another world. You heard nothing Liam said, and saw nothing he did. Your only focus was the show before you. He found it the funniest thing, and when this week’s episode came to an end, he laughed, “You and that show. I’m telling you the house could be fire, and you’d still just sit there.” You were not so certain of that fact. You had no idea how engulfed in the show you could become. “I’m not that into.” “I should film you! You ignore the world once it’s on,” Liam informed you, planning to do just that next week. “Just wait. I’ll show you next week. No matter what i do, you ignore me.” “Well maybe you’re just annoying. I am trying to watch a show,” you responded, a bit of laughter in yours words as you did, “You should actually pay attention too. Maybe you’d like it just as much.” “No, but I’m glad you do.”

Harry: Every single week Harry made fun of the way you went on and on about your favorite show. You could tell he was only joking though, so you made no effort to stop. Not that you would have anyway. You truly loved it, and felt a need to speak about it so much. “Let me guess, this was the best episode yet,” Harry cut in, before you could start gushing about this week’s episode, “Just like last week’s, and the one before, and the one before, and the…” You held up your hand to stop him from going any further, and rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll have you know I did not think last week’s was the best. Remember? Or did you tune me out again, I can repeat it all.” Harry laughed at that. He had no doubt you would do just that. “No, no, I remember. I was joking. Okay, what happened this week. I should just watch this show already, so I’ll fully understand what you’re saying.”

Louis: For the first time in your life, you were completely obsessed with a show. Every week you could not wait to see what would happen. You had never been so into anything before. You didn’t even realize how much you talked about it, until Louis began making fun of you. “If I have to hear about that show one more time [Y/N], I’m gonna start ignoring you. Please shut up.” You bottom lip shook, not realizing he was only joking. He noticed the tears welling in your eyes, and his tone instantly changed, “Baby, I’m joking. I was just joking. I love hearing you talk about it. Your face just lights up. I love how happy it makes you. I was only kidding.” You didn’t know if you believed his words, but you wanted to. “You’re sure? I’ll shut up if I annoy you.” Louis shook his head, and pulled you into his arms, “No, please. Talk about it all you want. I was only kidding, I promise.”

Zayn: “Let me guess, you’re about to talk about your show. Again.” Zayn interrupted you, before you could speak. But the moment you opened your mouth, he knew what would come out. It was all you spoke of lately, ever since you’d gotten into it and began your binge watch that had been going on for almost 2 weeks now. You hesitated to speak now. Zayn noticed this moment where you stopped yourself, and laughed, “I don’t mind. Just saying, I know what you’re gonna talk about. Just tell me, what now. What happened? Another character die or something?” You shook your head, “No, not this time. It was a happy season end, for once. Do you really want to hear about it?” He didn’t. Not at all. But it made you happy to talk about, so he sighed, “Yeah, tell me. What happened?”