if i keep eating like i'm going to roll through the streets

Dreams (Philip Hamilton x Reader)

A/N- I didn’t proofread or edit at all. Don’t hate me :)

Word Count: 865 


Request/Summary: I don’t feel like summarizing.

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x Reader

AU: Hamiltime (I know the gif doesn’t reflect that but it’s so adorable. So deal.)

Warnings: None… probably… maybe?

A/N- Jordan Fisher is probably a demigod.

You moved your arms up until your fingers grazed his sides, taking another miniscule step toward him. He leaned forward to say something into your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N).” He mumbled, his breath hot against your ear. He trailed light kisses down the line of your cheekbone until he finally reached your lips. You fit perfectly together, his hands finding their way into your hair and yours on his neck. It felt like his hands were made to touch you, his lips made to kiss you, his arms made to hold you.

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Poppies [A DR2 Komahina AU Fic]

I got the idea from an unusual AU fic ideas post. That’s all I will say. Enjoy!



“Welcome to Jabberwock Flowers.

Hajime looked around the small flower shop. He’d passed by it on his walk to work several times, but never set foot in it until today. Behind the counter was an unhealthily pale young man around his age. His sickly white hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He was smiling at him.

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The Moments That Made Us

A/N: Thank you for 400, you guys!!! I hope you can accept this as a token of my appreciation! First writing post as 1781styles!!! Whoooo!!!

 Prompt: “You’ve been pouting ever since I went out on that date, what’s up?”

 Pairing: Jordan x reader

Tag list: for @burninglaurens and @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens  some of the most loyal Jordan fans I know. And @femilton and @always-blame-jefferson you’re both so amazing.

 Masterlist | Request!

You and Jordan had been best friends since he moved from Alabama to Virginia in first grade. You spilled paint all over your new sweater and started crying. Jordan saw how upset you were, so he put a big stripe of red paint on his Spider-Man t-shirt. In that moment, you knew he was going to be your best friend. From there on out you two were inseparable; you did everything together. You went trick or treating together, you two went to prom together—your parents even let you two pick out your first cars together.  

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behind bars

so idk how but holy tomatoes I just hit 300 followers. honestly I am nothing special I am but a humble young gay but thank you all so much for following me! in celebration, have a fanfic I wrote.


Simon and Baz are young and dumb. They get arrested and wind up in the same jail cell. Romance ensues

TW: underage drinking


“So what’re you in for?”

Baz had been eyeing the boy for the past hour. He was gorgeous, no doubt, especially so against the dreary background of the jail cell. The fact that Baz was still a little more than buzzed also may have been a factor in how ridiculously attractive he was.

“It’s a long story,” Baz replied nonchalantly, with a wave of his hand. The other boy pursed his lips in thought. His full, pink lips. He ran his fingers through his hair, a mess of bronzy curls piled atop his head, shaved short at the sides. He looked like he was the kind of guy who just had permanent bed head.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he smiled, showing off obnoxiously straight teeth and an adorable dimple wedged in the corner of his left cheek.

Baz sighed, but kept silent and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Was it possible to be drunk and hungover at the same time? Maybe it was that boy giving him a headache. Baz practically had to squint just to look at him, he was so bright. It was like staring straight into the sun (except with a far better payoff). His skin, Aleister Crowley, his skin, it was gold with lovely reddish undertones and he had these dark brown moles dotted all over him, on his cheek and his neck and his chest and his arms, forming little constellations. Dozens of the things, he had. Not to mention the little dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and the fine blond scruff on his chin, and his fantastical, childlike blue eyes, and-

“I wouldn’t put my head on that, if I were you. The walls in here are fairly disgusting.” Baz snapped back to reality. The other boy was right, the walls were grimy and dismal, the whole place was, but it was a jail cell. It’s not like Baz was expecting five-star accommodations when they cuffed him and put him in the back of the cop car.

“I’m waiting on that story,” Baz said, barely a whisper. The boy seemed startled, because he straightened his back immediately and a slight flush came to his cheeks.

“It’s not much of one. Yours would probably be more interesting. You look like the type to be sitting in a jail cell. By any chance do you have a pack of fags and a pocket knife with a skull on it in your pocket? Or maybe you ride a motorcycle? I could see that.”

“Nope. I hate to break it to you, but it’s pretty common protocol to take away all pointy objects from people you arrest,” Baz retorted. “Bastards wouldn’t let me have the motorcycle in here either.” This got a shy smile out of the other boy, which made Baz smirk.

“How about I guess why you’re here? If I guess, then will you tell me if I’m right?” The boy replied and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.

“Oh, no way. You already put up the only deal I’m taking. Your story for mine.”

“You go first, then.” He bit his bottom lip. Jesus. He looked like fucking Apollo or something. Seriously. Baz couldn’t think straight (no pun intended) around this guy.

“My story would pale in comparison,” Baz laughed. “And besides, you and I both know they’ve only got us in here to scare us. I mean, I’m just in for the night.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what they were thinking when they took someone like you, who looks like he should be drinking Jack Daniels’ with his hot girlfriend at some slam poetry session, and put him with me, who looks like he just entered his first year in secondary school. I’m pretty terrifying.”

“Slam poetry? You mistake me for an artist. I’m just a mess. It’s okay, the two often get confused.”

“You didn’t deny the ‘drinking Jack Daniels with your hot girlfriend’ part, though.” Baz snorted a little bit at that.

“I don’t drink.” The boy furrowed his brow, and Baz remembered where he was and the fact that the other boy could probably smell the vodka on his breath. “Well, I don’t usually drink. Tonight was a special occasion.” He spat the word ‘special’ with a bitterness that made the other boy shudder, almost imperceptibly. He didn’t ask, but the question was written all over his face. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“So that leaves, what, the hot girlfriend? Surely someone with cheekbones like that can’t be single.” The boy grinned devilishly. Baz felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

“There’s more to life than cheekbones, my friend. People tend to be wary of boys who end up in jail cells and hotel rooms at the end of the night more than they end up at home. Something about ‘mental instability’ and whatnot. Can’t say I blame them.”

“I’m not wary of you. Not one little bit. In fact, I don’t think you’re half as frightening as you look.” Now Baz was really blushing. He could feel the blood creeping up through his neck and face like vines. “I think you wish you were.”

“You don’t know a thing about me, and for your own good, you should keep it that way.”

There was a silence. A heavy silence. It settled over the boys like a blanket, and began to lull Baz to sleep. Just as the edges of his consciousness began to go fuzzy, right at that brink between awake and asleep, his cell mate broke the silence.

“So,” he giggled. “Come here often?” Baz was starting to think this kid was a little tipsy too. And he asked him. “No,” the boy responded. “Just drunk on life. Drunk on cheekbones. A little drunk on strawberry wine.”

“So you are drunk?”

“I prefer the term ‘artificially enlightened’.” He paused. “Are you straight?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“I’m asking,” the boy laughed. “I’m Simon, by the way.”

“Simon,” Baz said, and Simon loved the way he said it, like he was rolling the letters off his tongue and tasting each and every one. “No. I’m about as gay as they come. And yourself?”

“I’m a little gay when I’m sober. I only admit it when I’m drunk.” Another pause. “So yeah, I guess I must be drunk.”

“A little gay?” Baz laughed. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sure. But I’m definitely gay for boys with long black hair and navy blue cashmere sweaters. Who wear kohl eyeliner.” Simon glanced at the corner where Baz put the things they’d let him bring into the cell (not much. A jacket, a book). “And who carry around YA romance novels.”

“Well, I’m gay all the time. But I may be especially gay for boys named Simon with sleepy blue eyes and shirts with torn hems who get drunk on strawberry wine and hit on strangers in jail cells.” Baz and Simon both were grinning like idiots now. “I could be a psychopath, you know.”

“You seem like more of a sociopath to me,” Simon replied boredly. “Now, do you want to know why I’m in jail on such a lovely Tuesday night, or not?”

“Technically, it’s Wednesday morning.”

“Shut up, I’m telling a story.”


It was dark, it was cold, it was late, and Simon had nowhere to go. He had just broken up with Agatha for about the eleventh time in the past two weeks. He didn’t know why he kept going back when she obviously wasn’t into him. Probably because he knew that after every night he totally struck out, after every final exam he came this close to failing, after every single time he found himself broken down on her front porch, sobbing, she’d still be there. Because she did care about him. She really did. She just didn’t love him. Honestly, he didn’t love her either. Not even close. He wasn’t even sure how much he liked her.

And yet, there he was, dragging his ass down Main Street at one in the morning, a bit further down the 'drunk’ road than tipsy (all on strawberry wine Agatha’s mom had stashed in the cupboard- Merlin, he was such a lightweight), headed to the all-night diner for some pancakes, because why shouldn’t he be able to get pancakes at one in the morning? He was almost an adult, god damnit, and if he wanted some pancakes when he was drunk and sad (though truth be told, Simon always wanted pancakes) he could go and get some.

There were two cars in the parking lot of the diner, and it was apparent upon entrance that they both belonged to employees. Not that that was a surprise- the place was second rate in full daylight. Simon slapped some money on the countertop and watched the tired-looking cashier eye him suspiciously. “Pancakes,” he mumbled, and took a seat, laying his head down on the questionably cleaned booth table.

About ten minutes later, his pancakes came, steaming hot. Simon dug in the second they got handed to him, burning his mouth. He didn’t even bother to put the butter or syrup on them. The waitress gave him a strange look (in all fairness, he was eating like a rabid animal) but just muttered, “Enjoy your meal, sir,” and walked away.

Simon was on his last pancake when a man walked through the door with trouble on his arm.

From the back, Simon could have sworn it was Agatha. Long, corn-silk blonde hair down to her waist, impossibly long legs, wearing a pink floral dress that Simon would have bet his life belonged to his ex-girlfriend. And he didn’t know why, but that made him very angry. That she could just walk through the door an hour after their breakup with another guy, walk straight into the place that she knew belonged to Simon for his late nights when he wanted to go anywhere as long as it wasn’t anywhere important.

Looking back on it, Simon knew that it was stupid. First of all, he and Agatha had been seeing other people for weeks now. It was over, and they both knew it, and the fight they’d had that night wasn’t even a break up. It was more of a second-or-third confirmation. Also, the girl wasn’t even Agatha. But he didn’t know that until he’d already jumped up unsteadily from his chair and whirled the guy around (he had glasses, and for a split second all Simon could think was, 'you wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses, would you?’) and punched him in the jaw, hard enough to knock aforementioned glasses to the floor and shock the hell out of the poor guy and his innocent girlfriend, who turned around and was wrong, all wrong in the face. And then Simon realized his mistake.


“After that, I only remember bits and pieces,” Simon finished his story. “Like rolling around on the ground with this scrawny five-foot-five nerd who was actually kind of kicking my ass. Oh, and trying to flirt with that cop. That was a bad idea.”

“So, do you flirt with every guy and girl you find remotely attractive? Or am I even just an inkling of special?”

“Oh, no, the cop wasn’t attractive. I’m just an unforgivable sycophant. I’m definitely going to hell.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Baz laughed. “I guess I owe you a story, now.”

“I’d be slightly more interested if I knew your name first,” Simon replied. He was more sober now than he had been at the beginning of the conversation, but even mostly coherent, he found this boy more attractive than anyone else he’d seen before. Which was different. He knew he liked guys, to a certain extent, but the whole thing with Agatha had kind of pushed the thought to the back of his mind for a while.

“It’s a mouthful,” Baz sighed.

“I’m prepared,” Simon said, then winked at Baz, who blushed in his delicate way. He did a lot of delicate things, considering his overall appearance suggested gambling and smoking in back alleyways.

Baz cleared his throat as if in a drama performance. The gleam in his eyes told Simon that this was kind of performance to him, and Simon soon figured out why. “My name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” he paused for a thespian sweep of his hands through the air. “The third.” Simon stared, shell-shocked. “No, I’m just kidding about that last part. Not the third. The one and only. You can call me Baz.”

“I like it,” Simon complimented. “Baz sounds like exactly the kind of boy I’d never take to meet my parents. Which, of course, is exactly the kind of boy I want.” That coquettish smile again, and then a furrow of his brow. “Now, Tyrannus. Basilton. Baz,” Simon began, and Baz loved the way he said each of his names. The first one sounded like smoke, billowing from his perfect, full lips. The second evoked images of fire, flames licking roughly at the corners of paper, the pages curling up and blackening. And the last simply sent shivers down Baz’s spine. “Tell me your story.”

“How much would you be willing to bet I could tell you the whole thing in less than ten words?”

“I have no money, I spent it all on pancakes.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of money. Bet me something worth my time. Bet me a secret.”

“Okay. I’ve got a few of those.”

“Ready?” Baz grinned. “Ten words or less.”

“I thought you said less than ten words? You know what, never mind. Starting….. now.” Simon cued, and Baz began. He quickly counted up on his fingers, then began to speak.

“Father. Homophobe. Snuck out. Party. Drunk. Tried to drive. DUI.”

“Wait, how old are you?” Simon asked, forgetting about the bet.

“Seventeen. But you owe me a secret.”

“Can the secret be that I’m seventeen, too?”

“Absolutely not!” Baz exclaimed. “Just because I don’t know it doesn’t mean it’s a secret. I’ve known you two hours. There’s a lot I don’t know.”

“So, arguably, that means everything about me is a secret to you,” Simon drawled. “And, also, I’d like to argue that DUI is four words.”

Baz raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Write it down. It’s one.”

“But it’s an acronym,” Simon said, a slight whine in his voice. “Driving under the influence. That’s four. And that means, more than ten words.”

“Okay, Grammar Genius,” Baz acquiesced. “How about we tell each other a secret? A compromise, if you will.” Simon considered, then agreed. “Alright,” said Baz. “You start.”

“Here’s my secret- I’ve seen you before. A lot,” Simon whispered, a little embarrassed. Baz raised his eyebrow higher.

“I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

“For the past few months… Okay, take this in the least stalker-like way humanly possible, okay?” Baz laughed and nodded.“I’ve been following you, just a little. Mostly at the library. You’re there a lot. Saturday afternoons. Sunday mornings. Sometimes Wednesdays just after school gets out.” Simon paused, gauging Baz’s reaction, but the other boys face was impossible to read. “After school gets out for me, at least. And you want to know what?”

“Sure,” Baz said, in such an offhanded manner that Simon seriously wondered if he even cared. If he should be telling him, if it would mean anything.

“You’re like… Seventy five percent of the reason I broke up with Agatha for the first time. Because I wanted to ask you out. But.. It just never worked out that way.” Simon’s voice dropped to a low, lonely-sounding timbre. “And so, when I couldn’t ask you out, I went back to her. Over and over and over. But I kept trying. I just never tried hard enough.”

“Are you trying now?” Baz asked.

“I’m beyond trying. Right now, I’m needing.”


For the past two months, Simon had been trying to work up the courage to speak to the gorgeous, ethereal boy reading Pride and Prejudice. Whenever Simon went to the library to study, he was there-until Simon stopped going to the library just to study. Now he went when he didn’t have to study and sat among the books, waiting for him to show up, watching the hundreds of novels around him collect dust. He could feel the burning glare of the librarians as he sat in their comfiest chair in the corner and stared, never cracking a single book. He wasn’t much of a reader. But the dagger eyes were more than worth being able to look at that fantastically beautiful boy.

Whenever he stepped into the room, Simon felt like all the air had been sucked from his chest. His eyes were light grey-green and intense, but drooping some days, like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. His skin was a flawless expanse of brown against the blackness of his hair, which nearly reached his shoulders. He was tall, so tall, definitely over six feet, and he always had earphones in with his music just loud enough that Simon could hear it from across the room, but could never distinguish what it was. Simon suspected that it was punk rock, or maybe something dark, funky, maybe alternative.

He never studied. He always sat down with a different book (almost always some sort of romance) and just read for an hour or two. Simon was always in the same corner, pretending to read the same book (it was Huckleberry Finn and he’d never read a single sentence, just stared blankly at the cover and glanced up frequently at the boy across from him).

Simon always kept as out of sight as possible. He didn’t think they’d made eye contact before. But today, it was all going to change. He and Agatha has gotten into a huge, stupid fight (something about Simon being 'distant’ and ’ hard to communicate with’), and they were done. Now was his chance. It was Saturday, two o clock, and in fifteen minutes, the boy should be walking through the doors.

It was 2:15. Simon held his breath as the grandfather clock in the corner, old and slightly mangled, ticked down the seconds.

2:16. Nothing. Simon tried not to get worked up about it. The boy was always punctual, 2:15 on the dot, but hey, everyone was late once in a while, right? Nobody was perfect (though the dark-haired boy seemed to be as close as one could get, physically at least). Simon took a few deep breaths. He’d be here. He’d been here every single Saturday at 2:15 for eight weeks.

As the clock neared 2:20, Simon began to work up a nervous sweat.

What if he was in an accident? What if he’d moved to some foreign country? What if he’d eloped with his hot celebrity boyfriend (or worse, his hot celebrity girlfriend) and was never coming back?

By 2:30, Simon was drained and he’d given up. He packed up and went home.


Baz was laughing. “What?” Simon asked defensively, cheeks a tad flushed.

“I was visiting my aunt in Prague,” he giggled. Simon almost smiled at him. He didn’t seem like much of a giggler just by looking at him, but here he was, giggling like a little girl. “I wasn’t running off with my celebrity girlfriend to drink Jack Daniels at poetry slams.” His laughter intensified.

“I tried a few times, after that, but I would always chicken out. Once, I got five feet from you, but then I spilled coffee all down my shirt and I ran away.” Simon chuckled, then looked at Baz. “Now, it’s your turn.”

“My secret?” Simon nodded eagerly. “Okay. I’d like to go on a date with you.” Simon beamed.

“I don’t know if that counts, but I’m willing to let it slide.”

Baz laughed again, a twinkle in his eye that hadn’t been there before. He admitted to himself that Simon wasn’t the kind of boy he’d imagined himself ending up with- messy, youthful, jittery. He looked like he’d been tossed up by the wind and blown far from where he belonged, and also like he didn’t really belong anywhere. But Baz didn’t belong anywhere either.

Maybe they belonged together.

So FAHC Jeremy right?

Jeremy who grew up in a bad home. Jeremy who’s dad never made enough money to keep them properly afloat, but was also the kind of guy who wouldn’t let his wife work. Jeremy who had to try to be the perfect student to gain any sort of parental approval, who was no stranger to a backhanded slap if he received anything less than an A.

Jeremy who went to school hungry more often then not, who rejoiced in free school lunch programs during the school year, because that meant at least one reasonably substantial meal a day. Jeremy whose growth stunted because of childhood malnutrition. Jeremy who spent a lot of gym classes as a kid trying hard to keep up on an empty stomach.

Jeremy who graduated high school with honours and almost 20,000 dollars in scholarships and STILL had to work two jobs to make ends meet. Jeremy who had 12 hours of homework a week and worked almost 30 hours on top of classes and still lived off of 99 cent stove top ramen.

Jeremy Dooley who graduated university JUST BARELY, and with so much debt he never thought he’d pay it off. Jeremy who moved to Los Santos praying to god he’d find a job, and just ended up on the street. Jeremy who did a hell of a lot of things that he is not even kind of proud of just to survive. He spent time as a go-for for a few gangs, picking up guns and dropping off threats, who did a hell of a lot worse to keep the crews from throwing him out or beating him up (who still has nightmares sometimes about the things that they did to him when he fucked up).

Jeremy who got picked up one night by a really sweet lady after being kicked out of the last crew he was working for (and left with quite the array or cuts and bruises), tired and freezing and so hungry. He wouldn’t have been able to make it into the penthouse if it weren’t for the gentle motherly hand on his elbow the whole way up. The kind woman who tells him her name is Jack, she gets him a fluffy warm sweater and some pajama pants that he needs to roll up three times to make fit, and sets him up at the kitchen table with a bowl of hot soup and some tea, and sits with him while he eats. She asks him his name, where he’s from, just a gentle probing to get to know this kid she’s brought in. He tells her his name, and that he’s from Boston. When she gently asks if he’s worked for anyone else in the area he clears his throat and can’t look at her for a solid five minutes before he mumbles out a ‘yes’. Jack doesn’t pry, she never pries, he’ll come to learn, and he appreciates that. She just gives him a smile and, very gently and slowly, puts her hand on his shoulder, and gives it a tight squeeze, and tells him not to worry, that everyone in this house has a past they’d rather not talk about, and promises him that no one will ask after his past if he isn’t willing to come forth with it on his own. Once he’s finished eating she leads him to an empty room, tells him there’s a bathroom down the hall if we wants to shower, and pulls some clean sheets out of a linen closet and helps him make up the bed. She leaves him with a gentle goodnight another a fond smile. It’s the first time he’s ever gone to bed full.

In the following weeks he’s timid at first, ready for anything the other boys can throw at him, but not sure he’s ready for the intimacy of the household. He spends a lot of time in his room at first, the door cracked a little because the other boys keep coming to ask if he wants to play video games, or plan a heist or watch a movie with them. At first he declines, but that British Fucker with the beautiful smile eventually wins him over, so he comes out one night and sits on the couch with Gavin and Michael and Ray and watches a movie, and then another, and soon it’s four in the morning and he’s laughing along like he’s known them for years, at some point Gavin falls asleep on his shoulder and he couldn’t care less, because he’s mesmerized by how pretty he is when he’s not constantly squawking and making stupid bets. He carries Gavin to bed when they all decide to turn in, and Gav presses his stupid big nose into the crook of Jeremy’s neck and Jeremy blushes bright red whenever he sees Gav for almost a week after (Gav doesn’t tell him that he wasn’t actually asleep that night and did everything on purpose because he thought Jeremy was the cutest) 

Jeremy who falls so easily into step with the others once he lets himself, who can sit for hours across from Ryan in their little makeshift library reading in companionable silence, who can go toe to toe in a fight with Michael and win at least 50% of the time, who will sit quietly on the floor of Ray’s bedroom playing the same DS games adjacent to each other, trading tips and tricks to get through this puzzle, or to catch that pokémon. Jeremy who shyly asks Gav on a date a few weeks after that movie night and gets a peck on the cheek and an enthusiastic yes to the proposition. Who helps Jack in the kitchen at breakfast every morning, and dinner every night just like he did with his own mom when they had the resources to do it, and who has helped Geoff plan half a hundred getaway routes just in case one gets blocked off during a heist.

Jeremy who never fit in anywhere finally finding the place he belongs in and the people he missed without even knowing they existed.

{NaruSasu AU} The Demon and the Vampire, Part I

…let it be known that this is the second fic I’ve started against my will (*glares at letsusura*)

The Demon and the Vampire (working title)

It had taken him six months to track Sasuke down, and another six months to convince the Corps to sell him to Orochimaru as ‘private security’. Naruto had used up all the favours and influence he’d had to get himself sold. And so now, after more than a year, he was finally living under the same roof as his friend again. But to say that Sasuke hadn’t been happy to see him would be an understatement. They’d barely spoken since Naruto had arrived.

Naruto had watched him though, constantly, obsessively. He’d had plenty of contact with vampires, though it felt strange to be in the same room as them without them trying to kill him, or vice-versa; indeed, it was now his job to keep the dozen vamps in Orochimaru’s establishment safe. To keep Sasuke safe. At night during business hours he and the other guards manned the entrance, kept an eye on the salon and bar, and trawled the hallways, ready for problems. He’d already had to forcibly evict several troublesome clients.

On this night he was stationed in the plush, candle-lit salon, and he’d known even before any clients arrived that they were in for trouble. Sasuke was back on rotation, after more than two weeks “off duty”. There he was, lounging in the shadowy corner of the roped-off salon, wearing the same detached, disinterested expression he’d always had. 

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queengallaghr  asked:

Bucky/Wanda for the ship ask?

Ooooooooooh, this became A LOT. So many new headcanons and ngl, I kind of went a little extra with the writing but when do I not get carried away? Thank you so much !! 

psssst @scarletwitchyrps. I did a thing ;-)


Gives nose/forehead kisses:


She realized early on that Bucky absolutely loved affection but never dared asked for it. He craves it. Whether it be Steve squeezing his shoulder, or Sam patting his back - she recognized how much at ease he is throughout the day when he was on the receiving end of those small touches. 

When his head is in her lap or when he’s finally letting his feet rest after a draining mission. She just casually leans over and presses a kiss to his forehead then goes on with her mission report. 

Bucky has to duck his head every time to hide his smile.

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mrsanimelover79  asked:

dude i just read all your Suburban AU, and its the best thing ever!!!! if you have any more, im all ears! (love all your stuff, but this is just really doing it for me)

Thanks so much! Sorry this took me forever to get to, i’m kinda drowning in uni stuff atm, but here you go: 

  • When Ryan first moved in Jack came over to introduce himself, bringing along a beautiful home-made loaf of banana bread as a welcome present. Ryan smiled through the conversation, then tore the bread apart the moment the door was closed, looking for hidden dangers. He feels like a complete moron the second he’s finished, miserably eating the crumbs and vowing to get a better handle on this whole civilian business before he makes a fool of himself. When he returns the favour, painstakingly struggling to bake edible looking cookies and presenting them to Jack with a flourish he has no idea that behind all the sunny gratitude Jack is already wondering where he left his home poison testing kit. 
  • Gavin bought a ride-on mower; Not to mow the lawn, because he sure as shit never does that, but just because he thought it would be fun. Gavin proceeded to drive that mower through three different fences and into Michael’s pool. He then dragged himself home, dripping all over the sidewalk and leaving a trail of ruined electronics behind him like breadcrumbs before locking all his doors, closing all the curtains and pretending he wasn’t home. That Michael had a long enough moment of panic upon seeing the destroyed fence to grab a gun and fear the worst only makes him that much angrier when he realises what actually happened. 
  • When halloween rolls around there are some trick-or-treaters. Not a huge number, what with the reputation of their suburb, but enough to have everyone doing some impromptu gardening the week before to ensure no hidden security measures will be tripped. Jack absolutely loves Halloween, puts an utterly absurd amount of effort into decorating, compliments every single kid on their costume,  provides the best candy and doesn’t turn anyone away, not even the shitty too-cool teenagers. Geoff claims to be abstaining but when children wind up on his doorstep he finds himself handing out gourmet imported chocolates and $50 bills by the handful. Ryan makes his house look truely terrifying, splatters everything in remarkably realistic looking blood and dresses the part, but drops the act and turns into a complete marshmallow when wide eyed little kids still wander up to his door. Ray fills up a giant bowl with everything from candy to glitter stickers and leaves it out the front of his house before bringing all the gnomes inside, turning off his lights and spending the night with his headphones firmly in place. Gavin and Michael dress up in masks and dark clothing then slink around the neighbourhood enacting vengeance on behalf of kids who are let down on treats but too well raised to resort to tricks of their own.  
  • When they’ve been together long enough to be called friends but not so long that they’re really comfortable in their ability to behave like real boys, the cul-de-sac is talking about what they have gotten for Michael’s birthday tomorrow. Geoff panics, googles birthday surprises, and ends up renting a whole petting zoo. He quickly realises this is not the sort of behaviour a reasonable adult engages in for the birthday of another adult, though to be fair it’s still pretty fitting for a rich asshole and his man-child friends. They do have to stop Gavin from buying the miniature donkey, and Jack is torn between becoming mush in the face of cute animals and desperately trying to protect his garden and keep them away from all the poisons, but Michael spends the whole day in fits of laughter so it all works out in the end. 
  • The police come to talk to them at some point, canvassing the neighbourhood over a string of B&E’s a couple of streets over, and it’s like a comedy of errors as they all do a terrible job of acting natural, swinging wildly between vicious suspicion and wide-eyed innocence as they remember there is no reason for these cops to suspect a thing. The discussion afterwards is just at stilted, everyone jumping to tell each other about how crazy it is that they were so close to crime, what a thrill right guys? How scary is that? And aren’t the police just great, out there doing their jobs, disrupting the lives of criminals, what a service to humanity..
  • Gavin has camera’s hidden all over the neighbourhood - in theory so he can be alerted the second something goes wrong but in action he just uses them to watch the others sneaking around and completely failing at normal human interactions. It’s like the best kind of reality tv and he has to actively stop himself from bringing up various incidents he has no business knowing about. 
  • When Ray goes outside and finds himself face-to-face with the mother of all wasp nests he books it over to Michael’s place and refuses to go back outside. Michael very nearly burns down Ray’s whole house in his efforts to combat the issue with a home-made, just happened to have this lying around, this is totally normal behaviour flame-thrower. 
Three Days in an Elevator

Because the word on the street is that it took Darren and Chris three days to film all the elevator scenes in “The Hurt Locker Part 2”and naturally my brain wanted to fill in those blanks. 5.2K [AO3]
For Jen because I love her a lot <3

Day 1, Hour 1

“What do you think it says about our characters that we somehow manage to get locked in what is so obviously not an elevator? Personally, I’d always thought Blaine was a little smarter than that, but maybe that’s just my own ego talking, I don’t know.” Darren asks Chris.

They are sitting on the floor in the “elevator” that isn’t, waiting while the crew adjusts the lighting to the specifications necessary for the scene. It appears to be a difficult thing to get just right because they’ve been sitting on the floor waiting to start the scene for at least twenty minutes. Not that Darren minds, especially when the only thing on his schedule for today is rehearsing and filming with Chris. No songs, no crazy costumes, no dance steps to fumble through, not even much in the way of a script or lines to learn. He’s been told that’s because the writers wanted what Kurt and Blaine do in the elevator to seem spontaneous. Darren’s not sure if that’s the truth or if the writers are just burnt out and couldn’t come up with anything, but he doesn’t mind either way. He’s loved improv ever since those early days at University of Michigan doing shows with all his best friends. And he can’t imagine a better scene partner to improv with than Chris, whose witticisms and barbs fly so fast and furious, most people miss half of them.

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Thorns and Needles (Ch3)

Welp.  Its 2:37am, I’m tired, can’t sleep, and this probably has a hundred mistakes in it.  I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!!

Chapter 3: First impressions are everything

“So I’ll see ya then?” Mark went to step past him to get to his door and whoa did Jack smell good. Like Honey and campfires and coffee. Simply Edible.

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Eggnog Snog

A little fenhawke drabble involving mistletoe and a porn reference. 
Requested by @dweebjpg​ – Merry Christmas!

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that when Garrett Hawke threw his annual Christmas party, he would become stone cold drunk on eggnog. Through this inevitability, he would embarrass himself, those endeavoring to be around him, particularly his mother, and the entire equilibrium of the cosmos. If one dared to ask why, then they would be promptly redirected to ask what because the end of the night would always be closed on an exasperated ‘what the fuck, Hawke?’ This philosophy had preserved the tradition for years. 

“Maybe we’ll be able to move him toward that statue you hate,” Isabela said while Fenris watched Hawke sway perilously close to aforementioned Tevinter-like relic. “Then it won’t make wiping up his puke all for naught.” 

“If he can’t hold his liquor this year, then we let him lie in it.” 

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Title: 5 Years Short


Word Count: 1,245

Rating: G

Warnings: THEY MET 5 YRS AGO TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!! (but serious warnings None uwu)


*a thing: if there’s ever anything you need me to tag, please please please let me know and I’ll take care of it!! Thank you bunches you’re a cute little flower <3*  


Dan keeps looking over at Phil and wondering if he’s thinking the same thing he is.

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anonymous asked:

If you have time, could you please please please write a story about Percy being a kick ass dad and doing just a bunch if awesome dad stuff. Bonus points for embarrassing the kids and having a really meaningful heart to heart. Thanks!!

They Grow Up So Fast / 2.1k

a/n: well here you go not sure if i did what you wanted but!!! this is unedited and all that so all mistakes are just me! consider this somewhat of a continuation of morning madness!

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"Beautiful" Supernatural One Shot

Title: Beautiful

Author: Lana (pineapplegirl123)

Original Imagine: Imagine when on a hunt, Dean has to take care of a little girl and to help her calm down, he lets her paint his nails.

Word Count: 1,565

Warnings: a little graphic violence (vampires at the beginning. You know how they are)


Dean and Sam burst into the room, hoping they weren’t too late. They were armed with big, sharp blades, ready to chop off the heads of the vampires they knew were here.

They surveyed the room and found the father and his daughter tied to chairs. There were two vampires in the room, and one of them had its teeth in the father’s neck, sucking the blood out of him. The little girl was crying, terrified, as she was forced to watch them kill her father.

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salute your vertical salt

Prompt: animals + music
Rating: PG-13
Collection: (x)

‘Just date Tachibana already.’ Haru is sitting in the hot tub with his favourite magazine Water Time To Be Alive! over his face, dozing off.

Rin wants to shake him. 'I can’t! Part of my appeal with the fans– our appeal is that we are readily single. And I’m devoted to the band. No dating till we fill the Budokan three nights in a row.’ Haru snorts and sinks further into the water.

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Preference #11: He Cheats (I'm Not The Only One)

I based this off of “I’m Not The Only One” by Sam Smith. Harry’s and Zayn’s I got a little carried away. Hope ya enjoy.


You and me, we made a vow.

For better or for worse.

I can’t believe you let me down.

I sat in the dining room looking down at my dinner. Liam was casually eating his dinner not noticing the pain I was going through. I rubbed my pregnant belly. When he would catch me crying I blamed it on the hormones but the truth is he was cheating…I’ve known since the beginning.

At first I blamed myself. I had just gotten pregnant and he had his needs but it became a pattern. I was disgusted. We were married and expecting a child, how could he cheat?

“Thanks for the dinner.” Liam smiled. “I gotta go to Nialls we’re gonna-”

“Nialls out of town…” I said causing him to freeze.

Liam scratched the back of his head, “I meant Zayn-”

“Save it.” I mumbled not even caring. “I know…about you and the girl.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

I shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. You cheated. I have a packed bag in my car and if it wasn’t for this baby, I would have left the minute I found out. Our child is growing inside of me and if that’s not enough to keep you from cheating then I don’t know if I can be with you.”

Liam started to cry, “Please (Y/N). I love you. I’m sorry, don’t leave me.” he begged.

I sat there watching him. I don’t know if it was my pregnancy or if I was just fed up but I didn’t cry or even feel sad. It was like the past weeks have escalated into hatred. The day we got married, he promised to never hurt me.

I pulled the ring off my finger and placed in on the table, “I’m leaving…You let us down, Liam.” I mumbled placing my hand on belly leaving the man who was once the love of my life.


You say I’m crazy.

Cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done.

“Where were you?” I asked looking at the time.

It was 3 am and Louis had just got home. It’s been like this for months, I didn’t mind at first but when he started coming home with love bites and mysterious text messages throughout the day I knew. Louis plopped down on the couch beside me and shrugged.

“Been at the studio. You know we have to prepare for the new album and everything.” he lied turning on the tv.

He wasn’t at the studio matter of fact none of the boys were at the studio. I tried not to jump to conclusions but when I caught him in a lie last week I was done. He played it off like I was dumb.

“Are you lying, Louis?” I asked looking at him.

Louis rolled his eyes, “You got to stop reading those tabloids. Why would I lie? Where else would I be?”

“Are you cheating on me?” I asked studying his face. He barely flinched, instead he laughed.

“You’re crazy! You seriously need to stop with all the rumors.” he shouted throwing the remote at the wall. “Why would you even think that?”

I sighed, “Because I know, Louis.” This shut him up quickly. “I’m not crazy. Did you think I was that dumb? I noticed the first time you came home with smeared lipstick on your shirt! I don’t even know why I’m still with you!”

“Babe, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” he apologized grabbing my hand. “I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

“You got caught! That’s the only reason why you’re sorry.” I said feeling the tears form. “How could you do this to me? I’ve done nothing but love you.”

Louis also began to cry, “Baby don’t leave me, I need you.”

“I can’t do this anymore…” I say getting up. No matter how loud he shouted after me I kept on walking. I walked out on my best friend, my lover and my world.


For months on end I’ve had my doubts.

Denying every tear.

I wish this would be over now.

I sat in my parked car for the last 3 hours crying my eyes out. I told Niall I was going out for a few hours but I’ve been sitting outside the house parked across the street. For months I had suspected he was cheating. He could never kiss me or look me in the eyes when he said he loved me.

I seen a girl enter our home and I was going to wait until she left to confront him but I was tired of being in denial and blaming myself. I just wanted everything to be over even if that meant that Niall and I couldn’t be together. I had put myself in so much misery for so long that I needed a break.

I entered our shared home quietly. I saw a pair of heels beside the door and discarded clothing on the floor.  I could hear them laughing coming down the stairs so I took a seat in the living room waiting for them to come down.

“That was amazing. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else-” Niall said making my heart hurt even more. He stopped once he saw me.

“Who’s this?” the blonde asked.

I laughed, “She doesn’t know she’s sleeping with a taken man?” I asked.

“Oh, so this is (Y/N).” she mumbled making the sadness turn into anger.

“So you’ve told her about me?” I nearly screamed with tears rolling down my face. “God, Niall. Why did you have to put me through this? All I’ve done was try to make you happy. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t happy?”

Niall ran over and wrapped me into his arms as the girl got her stuff and ran out. “I’m so sorry, princess. I never meant to hurt you. Please don’t cry.” Niall whispered holding me tight. I could tell he was also crying. “I love you baby. I’m so sorry.”

I pushed him off of me. “Don’t. I can’t even look at you.” I sobbed.

“I’ll do anything. I made a mistake I’m sorry.” he begged dropping down on his knees.

“You’re making this harder for me to say goodbye.” I said kneeling down to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you so damn much but I can’t get hurt anymore, Niall.”


But when you call me baby.

I know I’m not the only one.

“I can’t come home now but I’ll see you tonight, love you baby.” Harry said over the phone before quickly hanging up.

I went into my room and cried. Harry never used to call me baby, he’s been calling me baby ever since he accidentally called me my best friends name while we were getting heated a couple weeks ago. He thought I didn’t hear it but I did. At first I didn’t think much about it but whenever Harry was busy so was my best friend, after a while I got suspicious and so I followed Harry. He went to her house every night that week and when he came home he went straight to bed without saying a word to me.

I cried as I packed some of my stuff that I hid in the guest bedroom. I didn’t think I could cry this much but it was like I couldn’t stop. Of all people why did it have to be my best friend? I knew they were together right now probably having the time of their life. I gave up on the packing and went downstairs to the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of vodka and popped it open. I got out my phone and texted the both of them that I wanted to hang out and watch a movie. Once they agreed I sat on the couch with my bottle crying my heart out. I heard the door open and the two of them came in.

“Hey.” my best friends said coming into the living room.

“Baby, why is the light off its so dark?” Harry asked turning on the light.

They both froze once they saw how big of a mess I was. They didn’t know what to do or what to say. It was like they were afraid that I had found out.

“Are you both proud?” I asked putting the bottle down. “You know, the two of you are probably the most important people in my life and to get backstabbed by the both of you…God, why?”

Harry was the first to cry then it was my best friend. “I’ve run out of tears. I’m so hurt I can’t even cry anymore.” I shook my head. “Was it worth it? Are you both happy?”


“Don’t you dare call me baby!” I shouted. “You never call me baby! That’s how I knew you were cheating on me! Fuck you both! I-I can’t believe this is happening.” I sobbed, these weren’t sad tears trust me I was pissed off.

“We never meant to hurt you, (Y/N). But it just happened and when I’m with him I feel happy.” she finally spoke. I swear I’ve never been that close to killing someone.

Harry walked towards me and I threw the bottle in his direction. It hit a wall and broke causing the both of them to back away. “(Y/N) we were meaning to tell you.”

“No I get it. I wasn’t enough.” I shrugged wiping my tears. “I’ll get my things and leave the both of you alone so you can fuck up my life even more.” I said marching upstairs and getting my things.

“Please don’t be mad, we can’t help-” Harry said as I came the down the stairs.

I scoffed, “Go to hell.” I said leaving slamming the door behind me.


You’ve been so unavailable.

Now I sadly know why.

Your heart is so unobtainable.  

Even though Lord knows you kept mine.

I smiled as Zayn’s parents left the house. It was our 3 year anniversary and for months Zayn and I planned a party because he insisted we needed one. Yet he was nowhere to be found, even his bandmates came. I had to lie to everyone and say that Zayn had some important meeting with management. I cleaned up everything and as I was taking out the trash I saw Zayn pull up. He smiled and gave me a hug.

“Sorry I forgot! I overslept at Danny’s.” he lied. I smiled and nodded. “So what did you tell everybody?”

“Told them that you had an important meeting with management.” I answered as the both of us walked back into our home. “So how was your day?”

I tried to listen as Zayn lie and make up some story about playing video games but all I could think about was the fact that he’s been lying for so long. It’s been months that he’s been cancelling because he’s “overslept” or “had a meeting”. I knew he was seeing Perrie again. He promised he would stop talking to her but last month it accidentally slipped out of Niall’s mouth that they’ve been texting again. It explained a lot, the more he was with Perrie the less he loved me.

“I just feel bad for missing out.” he said taking off his clothes and changing into his sweats. “I’m so tired, babe.”

“I am too, Zayn.” I sighed watching him get into bed with me.

He wrapped his arms around me and I waited for him to sleep until I could cry to myself. I loved him so much and I thought he loved me just the same. I tried to control my shaking but soon Zayn was up.

“(Y/N). Baby what’s wrong?” he asked turning on the lamp. “Was it because of tonight I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Why don’t you tell me you love me anymore?” I asked taking him by surprise. Before he could answer I stopped him. “Is it because you still love her?” I watched as his face fell. “It’s okay if you do…I just would of thought you would have told me instead of going behind my back.” I said wiping away my tears.

“How did you?…Baby I’m so sorry.” he whispered kissing my cheek. I could tell he a genuinely sorry. “Please don’t leave me. I would go mad without you. At the end of the day baby I only want you.” his voice broke making this 10x harder for me. “Please stay…I need you (Y/N)…I need you.”

I nodded and curled up into him. I know it was wrong and I shouldn’t have but I just wanted one more night with him. For the first time in months I felt loved. I woke up early in the morning, Zayn was fast asleep. I carefully wiggled out of his arms and stuffed a bunch of stuff into my suitcase. I bent down and gave Zayn a small peck on the lips. I stood there admiring him for a couple minutes before turning around and leaving because no matter how much I loved him, his heart already belonged to her.

Eh this was okay. Thanks for reading!

IMAGINE: Meeting Cameron Dallas


Okay I want to make one of these because there are so many imagines where a girl meets one of the boys and then he asks her to be his girlfriend almost immediately and that’s not realistic, so here’s something that might actually happen. Enjoy.


(y/n) - your name

(y/t/n) - your twitter name

(y/f/n) - your friend’s name

(y/f/t/n) - your friend’s twitter name

(y/c/n) - your city’s name


You had been waiting for hours on the (y/c/n) sidewalks in this dreaded line just to get a signature and maybe a picture with a boy from an app. You were seriously considering just leaving and going to the resturant across the street for a lemonade.

“Can we please just go to the place across the street and forget these boys?” You say turning to your friend. She was a little more obsessed with them than you.

“Are you crazy!” You knew it was a long shot. “This is could be the last time they come to (y/c/n)! We are NOT missing this opportunity.” (y/f/n) crossed her arms and stared forward trying to catch glimpses of the vine stars.

“ All right.” You say crossing over closer to the building trying to get some shade.

Hours later you finally make it to the front of the line and (y/f/n) is practically jumping out of her shorts. You grab her arm saying, “Calm down! I don’t know how they feel about crazy fans!”

She smiles and starts taking deep breaths, “What would I do without you?” She gives you a brief hug and then prepares to meet the boys. You didn’t want to say anything but you were kind of excited as well.

There are a couple more people in front of you and you’re both mentally preparing yourselves to meet them. Then there was a scream and a boy’s yelp. You and your friend look up startled. There was a girl on the ground and one of the boys, Cameron, was trying to get her up. She’d fainted. When she came to she began digging her nails into Cameron’s skin. he didn’t want to drop her on the ground again so he bore the pain and helped her to her feet. Cam looked a little shaken up but he took a few more pictures with the girl who had fainted and her friends. I knew they didn’t care for the crazy ones. You thought as you and your friend approached the table.

You both smiled widely. Your friend was shaking bad so you squeezed her hand. The boy on the end introduced himself, “Hi, I’m-”

“Aaron.” (y/f/n) answered. she blushed and stared at her feet.

“Sorry,” she replied bashfully.

“I see we’ve got an expert,” Aaron said smiling. Shawn, Matt, Cameron, Nash, Hayes, and Carter were there along with Aaron and they all introduced themselves without further interruption. We got signatures from all of them. Cameron was the last in line and as he stretched out his arm to hug (y/f/n), you noticed the red marks in his arms from the previous girl. He finished with your autographs and he took a picture with the two of you.

After Carter returned your phone to you, you turned to Cam and said, “Those are some pretty brutal battle scars on your arm.”

He laughed and pointed behind him, “Yeah, you should see the other guy.”

You smiled, “Or girl, considering it was a fan,” You look at him with questioning eyes. “But you love all your fans right?”

He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Yeah but the crazy ones aren’t my favorite.”

You leaned into him and whispered, “Good thing you said that to me, some other fans aren’t as forgiving.”

He laughed and said aloud, “No. i really like fans like you and your friend here. Chill. Relaxed. Won’t dig huge manicured nails into my arm.”

You all laughed. “So I didn’t get your names.” he said it more like a question.

“I’m (y/f/n)! This is my best friend, (y/n),” (y/f/n) introduced. Then, whispering loudly enough so I could hear she added, “I’m the bigger fan though.” She giggled.

“Hey!” you replied punching her lightly in the arm.

“Well, (y/f/n), (y/n), it seems I’ve got more fans that want pictures so if I could kindly take your twitter users to remember you by that would be fantastic.” He gave a little bow being very formal. He pulled out his phone and queued up the search.

“Mine’s (y/f/t/n).” Your friend blurted out, “Sorry, this is exciting.” she gave a nervous laugh.

Cameron chuckled, “No, it’s cool, I love following you guys.” (y/f/n) smiled as she pulled out her phone and showed you the notification Cameron Dallas is now following (y/f/t/n).

“And yours?” He said looking at you expectantly.

“(y/t/n).” he typed something on the screen and then turned the phone off and slid it into his back pocket.

“thanks girls. have a great day in (y/c/n)!” Your friends jumped in and hugged Cameron around the waist, he hugged back and then kissed her on the cheek as she pulled away. She smiled so wide and blushed so hard that you thought she might explode. he pulled you into a hug as well and whispered into your ear, “Check your notifications.” He kissed you on the cheek and you pulled away with a smile and waved goodbye.

As you were walking away you heard Nash yell, “Cam you’re holding us up c'mon move faster!” You and your friend smiled and ran up the street laughing.

“Okay!” You say, “Can we go eat now, please!”

Your friend rolled her eyes, “I guess so, since you’re starving or whatever.” She smiled.

Once at the cute little restaurant you both settled for grilled sandwiches and lemonades.

“That was actually kind of cool,” you admitted.

“so is this sandwich is worth the wait?” Your friend giggled before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“maybe.” you say also taking a bite of your sandwich. Then you remembered. You almost dropped your sandwich.

“What! What?” Your friend asked noticing your sudden actions.

You excitement stopped “Cameron told me to check my notifications,” You say with air quotes, “Probably just because he followed me.” You pressed the power button on your phone and the lock screen lit up.

Cameron Dallas is now following (y/t/n)

Cameron Dallas sent you a direct message Wait, what!

You held up the phone to (y/f/n), “Look! Look! He sent me a direct message!” Your friend was just as excited as you, “Oh! MY! GOD! this is crazy! Open it! OPEN IT!” You hurriedly opened twitter and scanned your messages (not that you had many, most of them were from (y/f/n)) until your eyes landed on Cameron’s. This was unreal. “What does it say?!” your friend was more excited than you were about this.

You opened the message:

C: You have a beautiful smile.

You were expecting a hi or a hey but Cameron Dallas seemed able to sweep you of your feet with five simple words. You excitedly showed your friend. You were bouncing in your seat.

“Oh My God! That is so cute!” (y/f/n) was practically screaming. You both stood up and hugged one another and you were getting looks from other tables. You decided to box your sandwiches and take it back home. You decided to reply also not expecting a message back for a while considering he was meeting fans and you were a little skeptical.

Y: I’m sure you say that to every pretty girl you meet.

You slid your phone into your back pocket, not expecting a text back for at least a few hours. As you and your friend were walking away from the restaurant towards the subway your pocket buzzed, you pulled out the phone expecting your mom to be texting you concerning where you were and what time you’d be home. You were wrong, Dallas again. You showed it to your friend.

“He already texted you back!” she exclaimed, “Wow (y/n), you are one lucky girl.”

You smiled and opened the message:

C: Oh, so you think you’re pretty

Y: Oh, so you think you’re funny

C: Haha. You’re pretty funny though.

Y: So I’m pretty and funny?

C: Take it how you like it.

Y: You never answered my question.

C: What was that?

Y: That you message every potential girl you meet.

C: Kind of true, but I only text the ones back that I actually want to get to know better.

Y: That’s fair.

Y: Wait aren’t you meeting fans right now? Why are you texting me? Don’t keep them waiting.

C: Aw that’s sweet, you care about the fans?

Y: Well I know it’s hell to wait in line, so yeah I care.

Y: I am a fan.

C: No, the cops shut us down because there were too many girls swarming the table and blocking traffic.

C: We were causing a “public disturbance”

Y: Haha well seeing that one crazy fan freaked me out.

C: Yeah. Imagine like thirty of them all at once.

Y: Wow.

C: Yeah it was crazy.

Y: Are you okay?

C: Aw now you care about me?

Y: Just answer the question Dallas.

C: No I’m fine but thanks for asking.

Y: I demand photo evidence.

C: You’re that worried about me?

Y: Don’t milk this.

C: All right. All right.


C: See. I’m fine.

Y: Good.

C: Look at you being my little protector.

Y: Shut up.

C: Okay okay, a little feisty aren’t we.

Y: Whatever.

C: I demand a selfie in return.

Y: What? Why? You already know what I look like.

C: I want to make sure you didn’t fall and hurt yourself plus it’s a courtesy to return a selfie.

Y: Fine


C: Wow thank you.

Y: It was just a courtesy selfie, calm down.

C: I had just remembered how beautiful you are.

Y: Stop this immediately.

Y: You’re making me blush.

C: This you be easier i I had your phone number.

Y: It would.

C: So? May I have it?

Y: Of course.

Y: x (xxx) xxx-xxxx

You two began texting back and forth like this. Facetimeing, snapchatting, all the usual stuff that people do when they’re talking, not dating. You figured out that you lived only a few hours apart in the same state. When Cameron wasn’t traveling the two of you hung out, but you never went on a formal date. Mostly you just walked through the city or spent time at a central location. For months, you were just “talking” until he finally asked you out to dinner. When he asked you out on this formal date you immediately called (y/f/n).

“Guess who’s going on a date with the Cameron Dallas tomorrow!” You said excitedly.

“You’ve already been on several dates with the Cameron Dallas,” she replied sarcastically.

“But a dinner date? At a fancy restaurant? A real, actual date!” You exclaimed now practically shouting into the phone.

“Wow! This is great!” Now she actually sounded excited for you. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

“Well number one, you’re my best friend, and number two, I need a shopping companion to get a nice dress.” You bite your lip, “So are you in?”

“Of course!” she screamed, “When?”

“I don’t know. Um, what are you doing now?”

“Absolutely Nothing!”

“Okay lets meet at the boutique on 5th Avenue.”

“see you there!”

The two of you enjoyed a day shopping and you were all ready for your date. You had to drive there yourself considering Cameron lived three cities away and you were meeting in the middle, as usual. You were checking your make-up at every stop because you wanted everything to be perfect when he saw you. You had bought a beautiful, little black dress that extended to just above your knee. Strapless with black wedges and straight hair that fell down your back. Simple makeup, just a pink gloss, and nude eyeshadow with black eyeliner and mascara. You were pretty proud of the outfit, and you hoped that he loved just as much as you did. When you arrived at the restaurant you waited in the car a few minutes, mentally preparing yourself to go in. Why am I doing this again? You think to yourself. The first time you’d met Cam you had to mentally prepare. You stepped out of the car and approached the restaurant. You opened the heavy wooden door and took a deep breath. The hostess painted on a plastic smile, “How may I help you?”

You give her a slight smile, “Um I’m here with the Dallas party.”

She scanned her list and flashed that plastic smile again, “Right this way ma'am.” As you were walking through the restaurant the hostess added, “He’s been here for almost twenty minutes waiting you know.”

Oh my god. You thought checking your phone, 8:31, you got here right on time. Why was he here so early? Did I get the time wrong? You looked up to see Cameron playing with his fork, waiting. When he saw you he immediately stood and straightened his jacket. The hostess left two menus on the table and left.

“(y/n),” was the only word he said.

“That’s me.” You say chuckling, “You clean up well Dallas.” You say tugging his collar and kissing him on the cheek.

He wrapped you in a hug and whispered in your ear, “You look so beautiful tonight.” You smile and kiss his cheek again. He then pulls your chair out and helps to settle you in before sitting in his own seat. You both scanned the menu and ordered drinks.

“So the hostess told me that you had been here twenty minutes before me?” You asked it more as a question than a statement.

Cameron turned beet red, “Yeah. I didn’t want to be late, I also waited in the car for like ten minutes before coming in.” He chuckled still reddening.

You reached across the table and grabbed his hand rubbing circles on the back with your thumb. “I think it’s sweet.” You say smiling, he was still red in the face.

You went through the rest of the dinner and talked like you normally did. You made fun of one another, made jokes, just made each other laugh. When the dinner was over and Cam had paid the bill he asked you to follow him, “I want to show you something fantastic.” He took your hand excitedly and waved goodbye to the hostess as you exited the building.

He guided you to the back of the building. “Where are we going?” You asked.

“Close you eyes,” Cam encouraged. “I’ll guide you,” he said taking both of your hands in his.

“Why should I trust you Dallas?” you smile while closing your eyes anyways.

“Ouch that really hurt my feelings.” He said with a laugh. He let go of you hands, “Okay. Open your eyes.” You opened your eyes to reveal a beautiful view. The mountains on the horizon were blanketed with thousands of bright stars on a navy background. Cameron wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Wow,” was the only word you could muster.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” He said.

You turned and looked at him, “Who knew that Cameron Dallas was such a romantic?”

He shrugged and smiled, “I just needed someone beautiful to share it with.”

You smiled and kissed him. Not on the cheek, not on the nose, a real kiss, deep and meaningful. You pulled away and looked into his eyes, “There you go again Dallas, sweeping me off my feet.” He smiled pressing his forehead to yours.

“(y/n)?” He said.


“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What’s that?” You say with a smile.

“Well I really have two questions, but I’ll start with this,” He was being funny even now. You were now smiling from ear to ear. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You tightened your hug and whispered into his ear, “Of course.” You buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hey, hey, hey wait I’ve still got another question.”

You look up at him, “Well I honestly doubt you can top the last one.”

He looked down at you smiling, he pokes out his bottom lip, pouting, “Can I have another kiss,” He smiles, “Please?”

You kiss him deeply. That was a perfect night, with a perfect guy, under the beautiful canopy of stars.

“How do you do it, Dallas?”

“I’ve got a gift,” he said jokingly. You both laugh and walk arm and arm back to the parking lot.


God! Okay I know that was really, really, really long. Sorry. For those of you that read all of that, bless your soul. I just hate the part 1, part 2 thing so I made it really long. Okay, I’m done making you read stuff! BUT THANK YOU!

Submission: Meeting the Parents

I take it, you see where this is going ;) Have a great weekend, darling! :)

submitted by Mags (MaggieLeee)


I certainly do, Mags. Thank you for the lovely idea and I hope you enjoy the story.


“There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”

“Let me see it again, Mike,” Victoria Holmes extended her hand, a gleeful expression on her face. Mycroft reluctantly handed her the engagement ring leaflet with a roll of his eyes, “…aww, aren’t they lovely? Which one did Sherlock choose?”

“That one, Mummy,” Mycroft scowled, pointing at a sparkling diamond ring with an enormous price tag, “I fail to see the point. It’s not even symbolic; at least a wedding ring means something.”

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