if you open the second photo on a new tab and just close up on his face

BabyDaddy!Cal Pt.1

A/N: AHHHHHHHH, I told y'all I’d be back for a sequel. I’m hoping this sequel gets just as much attention as the first series did, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed. If you’ve read the first series, then you already know that I’m all about drama and that’s exactly what this series is gonna be. Anyway, this is the first chapter and you all should look forward for many to come. If you’ve read the first series you know that I need 100 notes and feedback for the next chapter. Enjoy my lil nuggets💕

Oh and most of this chapter is in italics because they’re flashbacks.

**WARNING**: Nothing besides profanity, but I’m sure you knew that

**Previous Series: SugarDaddy!Cal **(Read this first)

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty{END}

The moment you found out you were pregnant you knew that shit was about to hit the fan.You weren’t just the average twenty year old, barely financially stable college student. No. You were also the girlfriend of a famous rockstar who is in a world famous band. Plus, you also happened to sleep with his best friend and bandmate before finding out you were pregnant, therefore have no clue who’s baby it is. On top of that you were being watched, loved, and even hated by millions of people daily. Oh, and how could you forget that you were helping your best friends plan their wedding as well? Life couldn’t be any better right?

So, here you are in your living room trying to ignore your overwhelming emotions by catching up on Supernatural and eating for two while your boyfriend is out somewhere angrily driving around on the streets. Oh, and what led him to doing that was catastrophic.

Let’s start from the very beginning, shall we? Only three weeks after you first found out about the new life growing inside of you.

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Bite Me (The Epilogue)

Characters: DeanxReader, Sam

Warnings: slight angst, some fluff, some feels, and crying from the author because she can’t believe it’s really over

Overview: You were raised in the hunter life. You fell out of it. It wasn’t your choice to get pulled back in.

Word Count: 2,008

A/N: And here it is. The final part of my first ever fanfic series. To each and every one of you who have joined me on this adventure, thank you. Thank you for your likes, your comments, your reblogs, and your overall encouragement for this story. I have loved writing every word and feel blessed to be able to share it with you all. To Lee and Han, my sole sister and writing soulmate, I love you both dearly and am constantly blessed by your support and love. Thank you both for helping this series reach its fullest potential. These words, like everything else I write, are for me. Feel free to join me in the adventure.

Read (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17)

I watched as each breath I took created a small ghost that drifted in front of my face before disappearing. I shifted my feet in the snow, the movements accompanied by soft crunches as the icy state was padded down, and rested a hand on the squirming bundle of fur that was trying its best to sit still beside me.

“It’s ok, Zuri. We’re home now.”

The first place I had gone after I left the Winchesters was to my roots, my origins, the rebuilt frame of a house that I had once lived in and had been taken from. I had talked to Dean about my past, but I never went into the specifics. I knew it would be a place he couldn’t find me, and I also knew that the proper way to finish any story was to start at the beginning.  

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The Iceman’s Reverie

A soft sign emanated from Mycroft Holmes as he looked down at his mobile phone’s screen. Not that there was anything particularly noteworthy appearing on the screen itself. No work related missed calls, no bothersome texts from his brother. And, to Mycroft’s disappointment, no texts from his significant other, Gregory Lestrade.

He knew that his boyfriend was busy working a big case; Mycroft had been keeping tabs on it. He was quite swamped himself, feeling like he was drowning in paperwork ever since the States had elected a new leader. Mycroft shook the thought away, continuing to observe his phone screen.

All he had been looking at was his wallpaper. When he really missed his better half, he pulled out his phone and quietly observed the photo of himself and his Gregory. A small smile tugged at the Iceman’s lips as he peered down at the other man’s face.

They had been together four months now, and everything was going stronger than ever. Of course, if he could actually see his man in person – surveillance cameras just didn’t do Gregory’s beautiful persona justice – things would be even better. For now, however, Mycroft would just have to settle for the occasional phone call or rare text message until Greg was done working the case with Sherlock. He supposed he should use the time away to get caught up on the mounds of paperwork that surrounded him.

To hell with that, Mycroft thought as he finally pocketed his phone and got to his feet. He had had no reason to actually go into work today, so he’d decided to work from home. It meant he could daydream without anyone catching him unawares, which exactly what he had been doing. He wandered over to the large bay window, watching the sun set outside. The sun set looked exactly like it had on the night he had taken Greg to a London Symphony Orchestra; it was positively mesmerizing that night as well. Of course, it was nowhere near as breathtaking as Gregory in a full three-piece suit.

Mycroft smirked as he now realized how much more he would enjoy it if that suit had ended up on the floor of his bedroom instead, but this had only been their second date. And their first kiss. He remembered every detail from that night, and he didn’t think he would ever forget a single one.

Mycroft had always loved going to the orchestra. He had never actually gone with anyone before, but that had never bothered him. Now though, that this new, wonderful man was steadily becoming a part of his life, that was changing. And it had been his turn to decide the evening’s activities.

He had his driver pick up Lestrade from his house. Mycroft sat in the car, feeling a bit jittery, but he soon got over it and stepped out, going up to the house. He rang the doorbell. Greg answered soon after, knocking his spearmint tie to the side in his frenzy to open the door. Immediately, the DI blushed and stuttered. “Oh, Mr Holmes, Myc-Mycroft! You’re early. Sorry, I’m not quite ready.”

Mycroft had noticed this, seeing Greg’s untucked shirt and crooked tie. A ghost of a smirk flitted across his thin lips, then he shrugged. “Not a problem, Gregory.”

Greg looked at him. “It’s good to see you again, Mycroft.” He offered a smile of his own, his teeth sparkling. Greg gestured for him to come inside to wait, which Mycroft happily obliged.

“Likewise.” said the British Government, leaning on his umbrella. His palms were becoming rather sweaty, but he ignored them. “I’ll just wait here for you to get ready. We don’t want to be late.”

Greg scratched his head. “Oh, right, of course not.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “You know, I’ve never been to a concert like this. Heavy metal, classic rock, anything like that, sure. But a symphony? I guess all of you Holmeses have an affinity for the arts.”

“Quite so, Gregory.” Mycroft said, glancing around the area in which he currently found himself. The house was deteriorating at a steady pace, the wallpaper peeling off the walls.

Lestrade nodded and disappeared down the hallway to his tiny bathroom to finish preening for the evening. He stared at himself in the mirror, suddenly finding himself anxious for the evening. He closed his eyes, giving himself a silent pep talk.

Once he had finished, he threw on his nicest gray suit jacket. He stepped out into the hallway, pocketing his wallet and keys. Mycroft’s jaw nearly hit the floor when he laid eyes on the man for the first time.

Instead of his usual navy work suit with a rather bland button-down, Lestrade donned a full three-piece suit. The spearmint tie complemented the navy waistcoat and the charcoal jacket. The trousers matched, and he completed the ensemble with a pair of black dress shoes with a bit of broguing on the toes. Mycroft appreciated the touch, although he preferred his usual Oxfords himself. Not that he had never worn Brogues, but it was just a personal preference. He discarded the thought and continued drinking in the sight before him.

Besides the perfect matching of hues, the charcoal suit made Greg’s salt-and-pepper hair look even more distinguished. It was spiked in that unique way that Greg always managed, not quite sophisticated but not unkempt either. Intentional bedhead, Mycroft guessed, and done with an inordinate amount of product. He glanced away as Greg met eyes with him. This observation took little more than a moment for the elder Holmes brother.

“Does the suit look alright?” Greg asked. “I wasn’t sure if it would.”

“It looks superb, Inspector.” Mycroft managed to utter, feeling rather nervous and jittery once again. “Shall we?” He gestured to the door for Lestrade.


During the concert, Mycroft cared little for the music. Instead, he was curious as to how Greg would react to the situation. And, he wanted to stare at him. Which is exactly what he did. He found himself licking his own lips, wanting to know what Greg’s tasted like.

Mycroft shook the thought away. He couldn’t have these thoughts distracting him. Then again, he thought, that was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? He swallowed harshly, and that was when Greg leaned over and gave Mycroft a quick peck on the cheek. Color flooded the man’s face, and a grin tugged his lips upward. He met eyes with Greg, and he could feel how palpable the tension was becoming. Greg could feel it too, but before he could act on it, the next song started playing and they had lost their chance.

For now, Mycroft thought.  

The rest of the concert went well, with both Greg and Mycroft fully enjoying themselves and the company with which they found themselves. Greg had never expected something as boring-sounding as a symphony orchestra concert to be as delightful as that had been. Of course, that could have just been because he had been staring furtively at the man sitting next to him in that moment as well.

Once they had departed the theater and started walking back to the car, it had started to rain quite heavily. It was now that Greg noticed Mycroft was wearing more than just his suit jacket, as in, an actual coat. It was also when the government official opened up his umbrella to avoid becoming soaked.

“Blasted rain,” Greg said. He noticed that the umbrella was only big enough for one person anyway.

Mycroft looked over at him as they approached the car. “We do live in Britain, Lestrade.”

Greg laughed. “Very astute observation, Mr. Holmes. Normally it doesn’t bother me, but this suit isn’t exactly warm.”

Mycroft shifted the umbrella to his other hand, the one closest to Lestrade. “Here, join me, Gregory. Better that both of us stay partially wet than one of us completely soaked.”

Lestrade smiled at him and nodded, sidling closer to the man, feeling his elbow brush up against Mycroft’s. “So, tonight was a lot of fun. I can now say I’ve been to an orchestra concert.”

“That you can. I too found the evening to be rather enjoyable.” Mycroft said, strolling on to the car. Lestrade walked in line with him, continuing on, even as they got to the car.

“I’ve been enjoying talking to you and spending time with you quite a lot, Mycroft Holmes. We always have fun together…”

Lestrade continued talking, Mycroft knew. He could see the man’s lips moving, but he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the words that were pouring out of them. He was just focusing on the movement of them, licking his own. 

Then, out of nowhere, Mycroft blurted out, “Can I kiss you?”

He immediately berated himself for it, feeling like a foolish child, but Lestrade just smiled and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.” And closed the distance himself, his lips finding Mycroft’s in a gentle embrace. His arms wrapped around the other man’s waist, then traveled to his hips to hold him there.

Mycroft gasped, his eyes widening, but he soon fell into the rhythm. He quickly discarded the umbrella to free both of his hands, which snaked about Lestrade’s neck and met behind. As the kiss continued, one of his hands found its way into the DI’s silvery spikes, messing it up even more.

All around them, the rain continued to fall, soaking into every inch of their expensive suits. But they did not care. With the umbrella gently blowing back and forth next to them on the concrete, the passionate first kiss continued for several minutes. For Lestrade, it was the best, most romantic, and all around most-awesome kiss he had ever experienced. For Mycroft, nothing could parallel the moment.

Finally, Lestrade was the one to break the kiss. “As amazing as that was, I really think we should get out of this rain.”

Mycroft leaned over to grab his umbrella as Lestrade broke the contact. He pouted a moment. “Yes, I suppose getting pneumonia during our first kiss would rather cancel out the romantic charm.”

Lestrade chuckled and shook his head, opening Mycroft’s door before wandering around to the other side to get in himself.

And as soon as they were on the road back to Greg’s house, the snog picked up right where it left off.

Mycroft’s phone ringing brought him out of his reverie, making him jump where he stood by the window. The sun had disappeared now, and the office was steadily becoming dimmer and dimmer. However, as he tugged out the incessantly ringing device, it lit up his face and the area around him. 

[Incoming Call: Gregory Lestrade]

In his haste to accept the call, Mycroft nearly dropped the phone. His heart had leapt at the sight of the notification. “Hello?”

“Hey Myc. Got a bit of down time, thought I’d give you a call.”

“Well it’s about time I get to talk to you.” Mycroft said, but he couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Tell me about it. Sherlock is definitely not the Holmes I want to be dealing with right now.” Lestrade said with a soft chortle. “But anyway, how are you doing?”

“I’d be better if you were here.” Mycroft said without hesitation.

“Well, as luck would have it, I think we’re about done for today. John and Sherlock are having a huge domestic at my crime scene, and, oh, John just dragged him away. Looks like he won’t be back for the rest of the night. I can be at your house in 20 minutes.”

Mycroft stood up a little straighter, glancing back at his office. Then he got an idea. “I actually need to get out of my house for a little while. There is far too much paperwork reminding me of what I should be doing here. What would you say to meeting me somewhere?”

Greg raised an eyebrow, perplexed. He switched his phone to his other hand as he reached his car. “Where?”

“Uh, the Symphony Orchestra. There’s something I want to do.”

“Did you get tickets? I don’t know if I’m up for a whole concert, Myc. I’m absolutely beat—

“It’s not a concert. Remember what happened outside of that building, on our second date?”

Greg remembered the night as fondly as Mycroft had. “Of course.”

“I want to re-enact that, but this time we don’t have to part ways afterward.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” Greg said, cutting the call and getting into his car.

Thanks for reading! Tags below the cut. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged. :)

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I almost can’t believe it, but I’m actually posting two fics within the space of a few days!! This week has been crazy productive. 

So this fic is not a Christmas fic, but it is kinda Christmas-y, because I wrote this while listening to copious amounts of Christmas music. It has a very different feel from the last fic I posted, but I hope you guys like it~ 

Sterek, ~6k words, rated T

It happens on a Monday. Derek stayed up stupidly late the night before, reading a weird German serial killer novel Erica lent him, and overslept. He’s running late, out of breath and a little sweaty from jogging all the way from the subway, and when he yells, “Hold the elevator!” an arm obligingly snakes out between the doors and he slips inside.

The guy who held the door for him doesn’t even look up. He’s slouching back against the wall, scrolling disinterestedly through his phone, his other hand curled around a bouquet of flowers wrapped in crinkly paper. He’s got messy brown hair and a mole right by his mouth, four more in a cluster along his jaw, and, under the scent of cold air and wet pavement that’s clinging to his jacket, he smells—good. Really good. Warm and a little gingery.

The elevator doors slide shut. Derek’s so focused on trying to look at him without letting the guy know he’s looking that it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize the guy just said something. To Derek.

Derek blinks. “What?”

The guy smirks. “Running a little low on caffeine? I asked what floor you want.” He nods at the elevator buttons, and Derek flushes. Right.


The guy leans forward to press the button, and Derek leans in a little after him, trying to subtly smell him again.

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Swept Off My Feet (Part 3)

Misha x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Light flirting (if flirty Misha needs a warning?), kissing, VERY slight angst (if you squint and turn your head just so).

A/N: Sorry there is a bit of filler in this, but I promise there is juicier stuff on the way! Enjoy, my loves. <3

Swept Off My Feet Master List

You adjusted your sweater as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your lightly curled hair fell perfectly on your shoulders, making you smile. For once your hair was doing something you wanted it to do. The light makeup you found in a random drawer of your bedroom went perfectly with the rest of your outfit, a bit of navy eyeliner to match your blouse and jeans. The heels were a no-go, especially with the amount of walking that could be done at the Pier. So, you grabbed a not-so-shredded pair of navy TOMS and slipped them on.

You looked cute, which boosted your confidence. The other boost was the fact that you were going to dinner with Misha Collins.

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Winter’s Witch Part 3

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes
Warnings: FLUFF !! 
Summary: Bucky Barnes had just escaped his captors, Hydra. He didn’t know where to go, or what to do. Somehow, he manages to stumble into a girl’s apartment who he’s met before. The twist is- she’s not your average girl.
A/N: Make sure you listen to ‘Hourglass’ by Catfish And The Bottlemen when you read this. You will get ultimate feels.
Word Count: 2.1K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

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Sam x Reader 

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: swearing, mild implied violence, dirty texts, dirty talking, kissing, fluff, slightly Dom!Sam, smut.

**I realized I haven’t shown Sam much love. He deserves better! So, enjoy.

You shivered as a cold draft brushed over your exposed arms. Why the hell was the air conditioning on at this late hour? You squinted at the small clock in the upper right corner of your computer screen. Correction, this very late hour.

Whatever, sleep was for the weak. You had been furiously hunting for the shape shifter that got away. You first tracked him down in Manhattan, where he was murdering wealthy businessmen and posing as them. You and the boys had been following him for over two weeks, into four different major cities, and he still slipped through your fingers. So, you all decided to head back to the bunker and regroup.

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out on the main streets

Pairing: Mavin, slight AHOT6 if you squint (Fake AH Crew)
Summary: An old rival from Michael’s past arrives in Los Santos, resulting in a mission, a high-speed chase across the city, and some unfortunate bullets.
Warnings: mild violence, sexual themes
Word Count: 5147

AO3 [x]

In a club located in the heart of downtown Los Santos, Gavin sips his drink with extreme caution. Loud music pulses against his eardrums to the beat of his ramming heart and pounding headache. He can feel his eyes rolling back into his head as someone smacks into him from behind. It’s not the first time someone has hit him tonight and he anticipates that it probably won’t be the last. While he typically enjoys the party scene on a casual Friday night, everything was overpoweringly loud and he was too stressed out to have a good time.

If he miscalculates any single action, he would be the one responsible for a failed mission. The weight feels heavy on his shoulders.

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Dimed Out (Yoongi request)

Request: Yes Ma’am Pam. Here —-> Request

A/N: As usual I got carried away haha I just loved where this was going ^_^ Hope it’s good


“So enough talk about your comeback. What has been going on for you boys beyond the work?” Hyung Don asked.

Today’s schedule was a semi-live taping of Weekly Idol with BTS, APINK, Exo and f(x) to celebrate Hyung Don’s return to tv. BTS was second to last. You had settled in at your friend’s house to watch.

Suga started. “Well, mostly catching up on sleep and writing-”

“Ahh, Suga, not that!” Deffcon whined. “Fun things.”

All except Yoongi exchanged glances and smirks.

“What was that?” Hyung Don pointed an accusing finger.

“What?” Yoongi was oblivious.

“They all look like they know something.”

Jin shook his head quickly. “No, we just know that is interesting for Suga.”

Both hosts looked unconvinced but moved on to other members.

A few minutes later, as they were wrapping up Deffcon added, “Be good to your girlfriend even during the comeback.”

All of their eyes went wide and 6 glanced over to Yoongi in the middle. His eyes went wide as well as he noticed the eyes on him.

“Wait!-” He started.

“Aaahhhhhh!! Min Suga is the taken member!!” Hyung don yelled.

The others looked back as Yoongi rubbed his neck nervously.

“Can we have her name?”

He hesitated and sighed before he told them your name.

“That sounds beautiful. Well you heard it on Weekly Idol Live first: MIN SUGA HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!” Animated confetti was blown across the screen with a close up on his stunned expression.

Your face held the same expression. Your friend stared at you in disbelief. “Y/N?” She asked carefully. Your face scrunched in guilt. You hadn’t told her about Yoongi, in fact no one but the other members and their managers knew.

Before you could utter a weak apology, your Twitter began to blow up.

“It has begun.” She said.


“Noona, we are SO sorry.” Jungkook said the moment the video chat connected. From behind him the others were yelling similar apologies. You signed and told them it was fine. It wasn’t like they meant to after all.

From the side of the screen you could Yoongi trying to push his way to the screen but he couldn’t. Instead he picked up the laptop, moving to his room and shutting the door. He sat it down at the edge of his bed as he sprawled across it on his stomach. You stared at him with a sad smile. He ruffled his hair and sat his cheek in his hand. “…I’m-”

“I know.”

It was quiet again. Your phone lit up this time going crazy with follow requests on your recently privatized Instagram. He watched you scowl at your phone. “I can guess what is happening.” He spoke quietly.

You avoided looking at him. “Yeah.” For a second you twisted the phone in your hands before placing it face down.

The next question was one he obviously hesitated on. “What have they been saying?”

You shrugged. “I haven’t looked. Plus I turned off my Twitter notifications.”

“How did they find you?” His brows furrowed.

“Remember when Jungkook and I took that picture together before his solo stage? He posted it on my Twitter. My Twitter handle has my name in it too. It doesn’t take long for some fans to put two and two together.”

A forced puff of laughter came from him. “Trust me, I know.”

In another round of silence, curiosity got the best of you. Unlocking your phone, Twitter was the first thing you clicked on. There was an insane amount of notifications. Drawing a deep breath you began to look at them. Tons of new followers along with new retweets on the photo of you and Jungkook. As expected.

A pang of hurt went through your chest as you read some hurtful comments. But soon your eyes widened.

“Y/N?” called Yoongi, softly.

You looked up and smiled, eyes still wide. “Wow.”


Sitting up straight, you place your phone screen in front of the camera. The camera slowly adjusted for him to read the surprising comments.

“She is so pretty.”

“It looks like her and our Kookie get along.”

“I bet her and Yoongi look good together.”

“He must really like her after what he said about having no interest in dating.”

Bringing it away from the screen, you could see his amazed look. The smile on your face was wide as you read more comments. Of course there were still some negative things but with a majority of ARMY on your side, it didn’t get to you as much.

Needless to say you went to sleep worry free that night.


The following morning you awoke to text messages , calls, and emails. A few messageswere from friends who were typing in all caps about the news then Jungkook and Hoseok asking how you were and once again apologizing. But one from Yoongi made you curious.

Yoongi: Yah why is your Instagram login so easy? That is something you should change now.

Why was he interested in that? Wait…

Why was he logging into it?

You sat up on your bed, blinking away the sleep. Quickly you opened the app and noticed the orange tab at the bottom show a huge number of likes, comments, and follows. This left you completely confused. Your instagram was private. Or at least it was supposed to be.

Going to your page you noticed a new video. it wasn’t fully loaded but you knew you hadn’t posted a video in a while. You tapped it and read the caption as you waited for the grey circle to load.

“Take care of her.”

‘What?’ you wondered.

Soon Yoongi’s face popped up.

Everyone…as you know something shocking was just revealed. I appreciate you all being nice about this. This is not the way I wanted this to be revealed but I care about her. I took her instagram off of private to post this. Do not abuse this.’

He ended with a small smile. You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he is and how obvious it was that he had just woken up. There were so many cute comments.

Going back to your page you noticed another new upload.

It was a picture of you and Yoongi the last day of his most recent concert with the only caption being an emoji heart.

He was extremely sweaty and his nicely dyed hair was everywhere but you hugged him tightly with your forehead against his chest. Despite how tired he was he looked content with one hand wrapped tightly around your back and the other gently placed on the back of your head.

Jin had taken the picture after you ran into Yoongi, exclaiming how much you missed him and how amazing he was on stage. All Yoongi did was hold you like he would never let you go. Though people began to flood into the room and he had to.

But not anymore.

Kiss Them for Me

Summary:  Hannibal sees Will’s high school yearbook and shenanigans ensue.  Title is from a Siouxsie and the Banshees song of the same name.

Hannibal walked into the study to find Will lost in whatever he was examining on the laptop. So much so, that he hadn’t noticed Hannibal walk in.

“What is it?” Hannibal asked. “You’re not on Ms. Lounds’ site are you, Mongoose?”

Will blinked and looked up from the screen, “What?  Oh, no way.  I’m actually looking through my old high school yearbook of all things.”

“Really? Now why is that? Nostalgia does not really interest you,” Hannibal asked coming over to take a peek.

Will clicked out of the browser tab, “No!  This is so embarrassing.”

“Well in that case, now I insist you let me see,” Hannibal said with a huge smile, kneeling next to Will.

Will blushed, “Fine. I was looking up knitting patterns when an ad popped up for a site called Your Yearbook.

Hannibal smiled, “Continue…”

“So the ad read that most U.S. yearbooks were available for download. Curiosity got the better of me, and well, here I am looking at my senior yearbook.”

“Oh my,” Hannibal said with glee.  “Show me your photo.”

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Tall, Dark and Handsome: Chapter 29

TITLE: Tall, Dark and Handsome


AUTHOR : tomcuddlesfic


GENRE: romance / erotica

FIC SUMMARY: Twenty four year old Amelia Hart has never had a boyfriend before. Not wanting to step outside of her comfort zone, she rarely starts conversations with the opposite sex and makes little to no effort in correcting her single status. However, what she did not plan was meeting a man who manages to steal her breath away at every look. A man who does not stop until he gets what he wants. And the one thing he only wants right now just so happens to be her.


Author’s notes:  Another chapter is here. I promise more will happen soon enough. Tell me what you think!

Chapter 1 |  Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 |Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |  Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | chapter 12 | Chapter 13  | Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16  | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 |Chapter 21 |Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24   | Chapter 25  | Chapter 26  | Chapter 27 [sept 10th] | Chapter 28 

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nothing lasts forever - chapter 2

Summary: after 8 years of marriage, Taylor Swift and Calvin Harris are in the middle of a divorce being closely watched by the media. Between protecting their kids from the attention and moving on with the divorce, life (and truths) can be tougher than expected for these two superstars.

Chapter 1

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smoakbettsqueen  asked:

Swimming AU (cause duh it's me ) "I'll be Home for Christmas" either one of them fights like hell a la Jonathan Taylor Thomas movie to get home for Christmas/Hanukkah but you know to be together not for a car 😂😂

if you haven’t read my swimming au, you can check it out here before reading today’s fic :) enjoy!

“That sounds horrible,” Felicity sympathized after Oliver had finished telling her about the practice he had just gotten out of.

“It would have been less horrible if you were there. But hey, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Ummm about that… I’m actually not going to be making it back to Starling for the holidays,” Felicity sighed.

“What? Why?”

She shifted her phone to her other hand so that she could unlock her dorm room, “Plane tickets aren’t cheap this time of year. Plus, I’m taking some winter break intensives so that I can stay on track for my masters programs and I need to get ahead in my work while I have a few days off of practice. If I’m at home, I’m going to be distracted by everything and I won’t get anything done. So… yeah. I’m going to be lighting my menorah by myself this year.”  

“Felicity, why are you just now telling me this?”

“I didn’t want you to be mad,” she confessed.  

Both Laurel and Sara had protested her decision to skip out on coming home for Chrismakkuh, as it had been fondly dubbed at the Smoak/Lance household, and she had been putting off hearing the disappointment from Oliver too.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m just upset that you’re not coming home. I mean, we haven’t seen in each other in months.”

She flopped down on her bed and brushed away at a few stray tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks, “I know.”

The decision to go to separate colleges had been the right one, but it hadn’t been easy. With her at MIT, having chosen to swim division three and focus more on her academics, and him at Ohio State for their division one swimming program, eleven long hours stretched between them. With their rigorous practice schedules and academics… well, her rigorous academics, they hadn’t seen each other since they said their goodbyes at the end of the summer. It was almost laughable to think about how only a few years ago she would have been elated at the thought of almost 800 miles between herself and him.

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All My Tomorrows - Part One. Italy.

Hello to anyone reading this!

I created this little sideblog for the purpose of just writing about anything and everything. Currently, I got inspiration to write short stories again after having seen the beach candids of Tom and Taylor *swoons*. But seriously. I’ve written stories before for fun and this is my first attempt at fan fiction.

I’ve been planning this story since they were first papped in Rhode Island and began writing it three days ago. I imagined a jet-setting couple going on an adventure around the world for fun. A cinematic love story similar to that of “Under the Tuscan Sun” and “Eat Pray Love.” Believe it or not, but a lot of research went into the descriptions of the places I write about in this story. What you read about the city I choose to write about our favorite couple temporarily residing in is all true. I’ve also decided to add in some of the pictures that helped me set the tone of my story and I hope you guys can get a feel—even the tiniest sliver—of the beauty of it all. All credit goes to the owners of the photos! *UPDATE: I CAN’T BELIEVE HIDDLESWIFT HAS GONE TO ROME!!! THIS IS SO EXCITING AS MY STORY FIRST BEGINS IN ITALY*

This is sort of an AU romance, I guess, but only in the sense that the only altered thing is that neither Taylor nor Tom are famous —they are still the same people we love living their lives just not under the imposing glare of shuttering camera lenses. I plan on this being a little series taking place in different parts of the world and so this is just the first part :)

Enough of me blabbering on! I hope you guys enjoy the story <3 (A/N: This piece of fiction is quite long (8 pages to be exact) so if you’re on a computer, feel free to open this story in a new tab so you can continue to scroll lol.

A sense of tranquility draped over the measure of land when the evening chill sighed its last breath. Light crawled upon each rolling hill in the estate as sunrise began to wake, making each grass blade glaze with morning dew. It was there in the middle of the vast green blanket that a two story cottage rested with its red brick chimney releasing the warm smoke of dying embers.

Small rays of sunshine filtered through a semi-open window causing the soft curtains to move about in the breeze. Their warm and glowing hands caressed her supple cheek as she sought to burrow beneath the covers before peeking out from beneath with one squinted eye. The warmth basking her in comfort was cradling her back to sleep until a whiff of roasted coffee grounds replaced her desire for slumber. Long legs slowly placed themselves on the shiny wooden floors as she fastened the lingering cardigan by her lamplight. Looking out the large rustic window once more, she could see from afar as the town locals began to make their morning rounds in the town square.

Crazy love, people say I’m crazy in love / Just a fool, sighing sighs to the skies up above

She couldn’t help but let out a small smile as the sultry notes of music stemming from the radio downstairs made their ascent to her ears. Padding along to the bedroom door, she prepared to ready herself for the day as she tucked her golden strands behind her ears.

“Paprika? Oh no, no, no,” she heard him frustratingly exhale. “This won’t do. Where on earth is that damn pepper?”

Dishes and utensils clattered around in the kitchen as she came around the corner. Peeking into the kitchen she saw him as his lean yet firm body moved around with such choreographed grace that paradoxically clashed with the raucous noise his nimble fingers created. Patiently, she glanced at the counter before moving her hand to grab the precious condiment he was on a quest to find.

“Tom?” Her voice quivered as the amusement was difficult to contain from her voice.

In a millisecond or so it seemed, Tom turned around in shock as he took in the scene before him—well, two really: The first being how captivating her bare face was. The serenity in her  bodily composure extended to the tenderness in her clear blue water eyes as she fixed her gaze upon him. The second being the red ceramic canister containing his missing recipe.

“Taylor! Ah, well… I see that you have finally awakened. Mind giving me a hand, love?” His request came out in a breathy sigh as he willed to calm his rushing mind and avoid further embarrassment.

His surprise breakfast would not be coming to fruition he supposed, but he could take pleasure instead in her eagerness to cook for the both of them. One of the many delightful skills he had discovered she was just as talented at aside from story writing was her knack for cooking.

Making her way over where he stood, she stood slightly on the tips of her toes as she laid a tender kiss on his chin. “I think we both know we should leave the food preparation to me, hmm. Wouldn’t want to burn this place down, now would we?” She cheekily remarked.

Barely withholding a grin, he snaked an arm around her waist and caught her off guard as she was brought closer to his chest. Flustered, she brought her two palms onto his chest in an attempt to keep her knees from buckling as an onslaught of lively butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

“Well, don’t let me stop you or your early morning banter. I’m positive our meal will be ready to eat as fast as those words come out of your mouth, won’t it, my love?”

Two could play this game of sarcastic rapport.

He figured out early on that his touch alone sent her mind into a haywire as she would attend to her tasks; her words would come out in a jumble as he would delicately clasp the back of her neck to soothe her anxiety; her skin would arise in pleasing goosebumps when his hands would play with the ends of her hair; her heart would skip a beat and accelerate as he whispered sweet nothings into her ears, paying close attention that his lips never fully touched nor abandoned the outer shell; her breaths would come in a rhythmic tempo as he placed kisses in the hollow of her throat while holding their hands above her head; but most of all, indeed the best sight he could ever provoke from her would be when he put himself on the line just to see those sapphire eyes look at him as if though he was the only one in a room with her.

“Tom?” Her hands playfully thumping his chest interrupted his line of thoughts as he was brought back down to earth.

“Tom! Are you listening to me? Or are you really having that hard of a time between choosing either scrambled eggs or an omelette?” Chuckling, he let go of her waist as he pivoted to stand behind her and push her towards the counter near the fancy looking stove he had no desire of handling.

“I shall leave you to your kingdom, love. Whatever you have I don’t mind as well. Real men do not complain,” he winked. Gathering two small handcrafted mugs, he reached for the steaming coffee pot and poured them both a decent amount of the hot liquid.

They had both just arrived to Italy the previous night and the differing time zones from Rhode Island to Tuscany wrought a special form of hell upon them both. This would be the first of many locations they planned to visit in an attempt to explore the world and test their comfort levels, to find inspiration from new channels, and fortify a blossoming romance.

“I should probably prepare the toast. Seems simple enough,” he laughed as he reached out to unhook a frilly-looking apron from the wall. Wrapping it around his waist, he looked down to see bold black lettering amidst the simple white: “Real Men do the Dishes.”

Booming laughter could be heard all the way from their cozy kitchen to the town square, Tom thought surely.

Smirking, he looked to see Taylor holding the steel whisk she was using to scramble the eggs near her chest in an endeavor to calm her hysterics. With her nose scrunched and trimmed bangs falling forward from their resting place behind her ears, he swore he had never before seen a more beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but think how he would always put himself on the line just to see her smile.

“I guess my man won’t complain about cleaning up, now will he?”

No, he thought. He would do anything to make sure she was always smiling.

“It isn’t normal or real, to feel heaven’s right inside your door / But somehow that’s how I feel, and I’ve never felt this way before”

Stepping outside their rented home, the couple took their time walking down the pebbled pathways leading to the the nearest village named Chianti. Known for its rolling hills, olive groves, and vineyards, this romantic region in Tuscany was looking to be one full of adventures yet to be uncovered. Along the way, there was not a moment in which her hands were left lonely. Seeking for more intimacy, she interlocked her left arm through his right elbow and continued to keep their hands intertwined as he held their limbs against his chest near his heart— his long, elegant fingers protecting hers.

Ruins of ancient churches and stone farmhouses lined the streets until they arrived at their first stop, which happened to be one of the most famous attractions in the area— the Castello di Nipozzano. Though neither her nor Tom were avid drinkers, they were not foolish enough to ever turn down sampling the ever abundant ambrosia of wine the region famously produced.  

Built over ten centuries ago, the winery they were presented with still held such a magnificent presence as it towered over the village from where they began their walk. An array of warmly colored foliage —reds to oranges to yellows and fading greens—grew all around, signifying the fertility and vibrance of the fresh summer. Rooted at the top of the tallest hill stood the grand wooden entrance door leading to their destined orientation.

With the midday sun in the background, the sight of it all left the couple silent as the antiquity of the romantic city they were roaming upon finally registered. Here they were creating their own version of history— just as countless of others before them had and undoubtedly would after as well. They were adding their own chapters to the infinite narrative that Tuscany inspired.

The poetic notion rendered Taylor speechless and thus left Tom to charmingly commence conversation with their tour guide.

“This is absolutely striking,” she could hear him begin in his alluring accent. “I can see how this building reflects revivalist influences. The Renaissance is such a fascinating subject to me, friend. I avidly recall that great artists such as Donatello and Michelozzo Michelozzi regularly procured wine from this estate…”

Shyly looking between the two men, she took notice of how everyone in the grand wine cellar seemed to gather around Tom as he began his storytelling.

Smiling, she couldn’t help but blush at the extra attention and pride stemming from her core that this man with her held such unabridged knowledge that even the tour guide looked to him for more details about the history of the vineyard and the city it arose from. How beautiful, she thought, as she heard him enthusiastically engage people of all different backgrounds— locals and foreigners.

“Darling, would you like to try this selection?” Tom happily asked as he crouched to peruse the row of wine bottles lining the bottom shelf.

“I believe this one right here is right up your valley. Questo uno è un gioiello speciale,” he ran his fingers along the name of the bottle as he plucked it from the rest. This one is a special gem.

Looking at the bottle, it seemed no different from the rest aside from it’s reddish tint, but then again her knowledge of the Italian language was nonexistent compared to Tom’s.

“How are you so sure I will like it?” She rivetingly inspected the dark glass bottle.

Wrapping his hands around her curious ones to stall her actions, he mischievously replied, “Red is the color of passion, is it not? Are you willing to testify on the contrary before me that the way you screamed last ni—”

A swift kiss on the lips stole his breath before he could finish his sentence. Taylor sighed mockingly, “You have a point it seems. A woman is in her right to become passionate over a game of Scrabble when there is no other activity left to fawn over.” Standing still, Tom was left clinging to the vacant space where her body had been and watched as his lover left to purchase the red wine with a smirk on her lips and victory in her eyes.

Crazy dreams, keep me clinging to this affair / I’m insane to keep dreaming that you could care / But I am a kind of fool who stayed after school / I’ve learned my lessons well”

Carrying the somewhat heavy box containing the gifts they purchased back at the vineyard made Tom work up an appetite he wished to placate with a hearty meal of pasta and a side order of sugary sweets chill enough to combat the leftover Chianti heat slowly evaporating into the night. Twilight was approaching as the Tuscan sun was setting behind the regal evergreen trees that called the rolling hills their home. The inhabitants of the peaceful town were strolling about in the enchantingly quaint ‘mom and pop’ stores that were so popular.

Slowing down his stride, he took notice of a terra-cotta stonewall store shrouded in twisting green vines climbing their way up to an open roof consisting of modern wooden beams. On the glass window panes were neatly pressed posters advertising scoops of numbingly good gelato treats. Feeling his stomach about to grumble, Tom pointed out the store when Taylor turned to question him about his sudden lack of movement.

“A little dessert before dinner never hurt anyone, right?” his eyes sparkled in merriment.

Giggling, Taylor let herself be led to the store. A melodic pattern of golden chiming bells sang away as Tom opened the door. The place was apparently packed tonight with children and adults alike looking to relieve their heat induced restlessness.

Aided by the twinkling strings of lights hanging from the make-shift ceiling and moonlight flooding through the wooden beams, Taylor made her way over to the counter in order to scour for her choice of flavor. She knew without a doubt that Tom would desire to indulge in the flavor of chocolate, and so coming to her choosing of mellow lemon gelato, she looked over her shoulder in search of a free table to rest. All she was greeted with were teenagers laughing at childish jokes in the bar stool area and families conversing loudly in all the tables.

Disappointed, she became startled when she felt a warm hand centered at the back of her waist. “Don’t fret, love. I know a place we can relax. Follow me— it’s outside,” he gently pried his gelato from her hand and led her outside the energetic atmosphere. It was only a short distance before she understood that he was leading her to a more secluded quarter.

A small glass roundtable stood in the center of the square with two black metallic chairs accompanying the piece. Setting down their belongings beside their seats, the two could finally relax in the cooling air the nighttime was providing.  

Spooning her first bite, Taylor looked up to see Tom halfway done with his scoop. Laughing, she lightly kicked his calf as he retaliated by trying to steal bites here and there of her food. Giving in, she spoon fed him a taste and stared in amusement as he exhaled the most satisfying sound from his throat.

Taylor leaned back into her chair as she thought about her life in that moment. Not one to exaggerate, but this was the first time in her life she could truly admit how free and at peace she felt. She didn’t want to place the sole reason for her happiness onto the man next to her, but glancing at him as he was looking at her with expressive eyes and a relaxed smile, it would be a lie to deny he was a sizable factor contributing to her joy. In fact, it was his idea to explore the world this summer—“it would be something different for the both of us. Just you and I, Taylor,”— she recalled him telling her of his plans while he skipped rocks across the lake they were sitting around. With their feet dipped into the fresh water swinging back and forth, she felt a feeling similar to a revival as she thought about his proposal. Feeling a surge of excitement, she stood up as she began to slip down the shoulder strands holding her dress to her body over her arms.

Tom sat still in surprise as he took in the sudden change. “Wait—What are you doing?” he stood up laughing as he began to fumble around trying to rid of the belt on his trousers.

“I’m having fun!” Taylor responded as she ran back a few wide steps to get enough room to jump into the water. “Tom! Come on— I want to do this with you! It’s no fun if you’re not with me.”

Cold water splashed onto the wooden bridge as the two submerged beneath the surface of the water. Both eyes remained open as they looked to one another. She couldn’t help but feel overwhelming elation as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a deep kiss to his lips until they both had to resurface from their little world back above the sloshing surface of the water.

Thinking back, she was proud for taking this chance, happy for the beginning of their adventures, and utterly in love with the man whose crinkled eyes and animated hands spoke of promises of endless years of bliss and laughter.

“And if this crazy love is such a crazy love / I’m glad I fell”

The Journalist - Part 7

[Thank you Doctor Who for providing the quote that help me decide the fate of this couple: You never finish with anyone while they can still make you angry.]

Previously in The Journalist: Time is supposed to heal all wounds, right? A week after your privacy had been breached and the photographs had been sent out, the pair of you had still been arguing - still angry with each other, with the circumstance. Two weeks after, you’d been able to better control the contradicting emotions that were the result of the fallout. Now? Now you need to make a choice. Stay with Tom, or leave him. 

[Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 8, Part 9Part 10]

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