imagine her telling him not to get in her way

Drabble Prompt #18 (Reader x  young Sirius Black)

Drabble prompts -  songs , request more here

Request: Number 18 with young Sirius?❤

Prompt: Breaking the girl- red hot chili peppers

Warnings: mentions of the sex but no details ;) 

Sirius knew he shouldn’t have done it this way, he wanted her in all the wrong ways and was willing to tell her everything she wanted to hear just to get her for one night.

He knew she would get attached, she wasn’t like the other girls he would usually hook up with, she was so sweet and nice to him even though he wasn’t very nice to her at the beginning.

When he had a class without the other marauders he was pretty upset, and for it to be potions was worse. He had no idea who his lab partner would be but when you sat next to him and you smelled of strawberries and had a nervous smile on your face he wanted more than nothing to be nice to you but he was still mad about you not being Remus or James or Peter so he was cold to you at first.

He barely talked to you until he noticed other things about you, the way your top button on your shirt would always come loose giving him a very nice view or the way your skirt hugged your hips.

You were so pure and so sweet he didn’t want to think of you this way. He knew you had at least a little crush on him because once he started flirting with you, you became flustered so fast and your cheeks constantly a light shade of pink.

When he talked to Remus about it Remus told him he shouldn’t, he thought you deserved so much better, you deserved someone who would actually love you for a long time not just one night.

James on the other hand told him to go for it but wait until the term was over since you were lab partners in potions.

Sirius hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help himself he was selfish.

When Sirius had asked you to meet him in the astronomy tower later that night your heart was filled with joy as you lost your words and nodded trying to hide the smile on your face.

It was 9 at night when Remus noticed Sirius leaving their room and Remus knew exactly what he was going to do so he spoke from behind his book

“Sirius you better not be going to see Y/N, you’re going to break the poor girl”

Sirius laughed and cheekily responded 

“Remus I’m not that big ”

Remus stood up now visibly angry at Sirius

“Padfoot you know she wants more than one night with you, and I know you’re going to lie to her and tell her everything she wants to hear to get in her pants and then never speak to her again , you’re going to break her heart and she would never do you any harm!”

Sirius just ignored Remus as he walked out the door, the only thing on his mind was you and he wouldn’t do anything without your consent anyways.

When he got the astronomy tower he listened to you talk about the constellations enjoying the way your out of uniform tight fitting dress looked on you, before either of you knew it you were making out against the tower wall, Remus was right Sirius wanted you so badly he was whispering in your ear everything you wanted to hear him say he couldn’t stop himself.

In the end Sirius got what he wanted, the two of you ended up back in your dorm after a silencing spell was cast Sirius had you in all the ways he wanted.

When you woke up the next morning you stretched your arms out for Sirius but he was gone and your heart sunk in your stomach.

Why would he leave, you thought he wanted you? You suppressed the tears and got dressed and went to potions class hoping Sirius had left to do the same.

When you got the Potions Sirius ignored you the whole class and acted as though nothing happened. When he read the instructions to the potion you looked into his eyes and asked him

“Where did you go?”

You could tell by the way his expression dropped he felt bad, how stupid of you to think you wouldn’t have been another one of his one night flings. You felt a tear betray you and escape your eye. You quickly wiped it away and whispered back at him 

"You lied to me, you said you wanted me, you just wanted my body.”

Sirius didn’t even have any words to defend his actions and you marched out of the room. You didn’t go to positions for the rest of the final week, only showing up to your final exam and avoiding Sirius.

Without you to help him Sirius was lost in potions, he turned to his friends for help with the class but Remus was furious with him 

“She was such a strong girl and you ruined her, for one night of pleasure, you let her feel loved for one day and then you took it away and you broke her just as I said you would”

Remus paused 

“You thought you were so clever to get her to sleep with you, well you’re not getting any help from me this is your own problem, you left her alone now you get to feel a sliver of what she feels now.”

And Sirius knew he was right so he didn’t even argue back, he accepted the fact that he did this and he would have to pay for it.

please don’t imagine sherlock teaching rosie how to play the violin and one day when john gets home they sit him down and tell him they have a surprise for him and that he has to close his eyes, and when he opens them rosie is standing up rod straight and slowly makes her way through twinkle twinkle little star while sherlock kneels next to her and softly tells her to carry on when she gets a note wrong because she’s doing fantastically, and john has to look away and up at the ceiling for a moment because the picture in front of him is so perfect that he can feel tears in his eyes

squint at where you’re from

oops sometimes you gotta

spoilers for 413, bellamy/clarke, 1600 words, gen. AO3!


Even though it’s not really the same as coming down in the first time, Bellamy still has this strange sense of deja vu as he looks at the door. The ship is smaller, he has fewer people with him, he feels both more and less sure of what he’ll find. They tried to hit the only spot of green they could see, but the controls are a mess, so he’s not sure they got to it. The whole fucking ship is a mess, built out of whatever scrap they could salvage. Even with six years to perfect it, the thing is still held together with spit and prayer, according to Raven.

But it got them to the ground. They’re back.

“Just open the fucking door!” says Raven, and Bellamy lets out a long breath and finally hits the release.

He knows what he’s hoping for: clean air, plants, blue sky. And he gets all of those.

He just also gets a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with brown hair in braids, pointing a gun at him. Which is honestly fairly encouraging; someone survived, and they have firearms. So she probably came out of the bunker.

He puts his hands up on reflex.

“Hey, uh–we come in peace,” he tries, and then says it again in Trig, for good measure. He doesn’t recognize her, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be from another clan; there are plenty of them he doesn’t know. Or–his heart trips on the thought–she could be a nightblood. She could have survived because of that, and if she survived–

The girl pulls her gun back and looks at him critically. “Are you Bellamy Blake?”

He blinks a few times. “Um, yeah. I’m Bellamy Blake.”

“Really?”

She sounds skeptical, which doesn’t make any fucking sense. She’s the one who brought it up. There’s no reason for her not to believe him.

“Yeah, really. Did you come out of the bunker? Is my sister with you? Octavia?”

You’re Bellamy?” she says, like she didn’t hear him. She’s making a face like something smells odd. “I thought you’d be taller.”

Taller?” he asks.

Raven pokes her head out. “It’s been five minutes and you’re already being held at gunpoint? You sure have a way with people, Bellamy.”

“Look, we don’t want to hurt you,” he tells the girl. “Just–”

“I know,” she says. “You just want to see Clarke.”

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Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Inferno - Reggie Mantle x Reader Imagine

Warnings: Some swearing, some yelling

Request by @stevrgers:  hey could I request an imagine where the reader has a thing with reggie but it’s super lowkey and reggie wants to keep it that way because he wants to keep her out of the playbook (cause he really cares for her) but the reader perceives his secrecy of their relationship as him being embarrassed to be seen with her by his friends/the school and reader gets upset & reggie is torn cause he wants to tell her about the book but also doesn’t want to get in trouble by the team for exposing their secret

Hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry if it seems a little disjointed. I tried to jam so much into it and it got so long (almost six pages on Word), but here you are!

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y'all were joking that Sombra would reveal the gay characters, but that might be true af, because like she said in her origins video, she finds people’s weakness. During a match she could provoke the other characters by threatning to hurt their loved ones, and the way they reply can easily tell how much they care for their supposed lover.
Just imagine.

Sombra: “That omnic monk might be useful to have under my control. I can easily hack him.”
Genji: “I won’t let you harm my master.”

Sombra: “It would be such a pity if Mercy’s valkyrie suit just happened to malfuction middair *giggle*”
Pharah: “Don’t you dare./While I’m here nothing bad will happen to her.”

Sombra: “In a blink of an eye, I can get rid of Tracer.”
Widowmaker: “Back away. She is my target.”

Sombra: *talking to Roadhog* “Let me try to find a picture of what your real face looks like.”
Junkrat: “Oi, leave my big lug alone.”

Hallelujah, You’re Home

Read on AO3


          It’s been two years. Two years since they’ve felt rain on their faces. Two years since they’ve seen their families, since they’ve spoken to their families. Two years since they really started to learn what war was. Two years since they stopped being teenagers and became soldiers. Two years since they left Earth. Three, for Shiro.

           But now they’re going back. They’re going home.

           Well, for a little while, at least. The war isn’t over. The Galra Empire has been taking over the universe for over 10,000 years, it can’t be taken down in simply two. But in two years, the Voltron Alliance has grown substantially, and they’ve taken down enough Galra higher ups that Voltron is almost universally known and called upon, and with fame, comes questions. It’s not a secret anymore that the five Paladins of Voltron are from Earth. Everybody knows, so there’s no point in avoiding Earth anymore. At least, that’s what the Paladins keep telling Allura. Earth is vulnerable now; it’s a target, and with it’s technology as unadvanced as it was when they left, they’re at a serious disadvantage if the Galra ever attacked. They probably still have no idea that aliens even exist. Earth needs Voltron. Earth needs the Voltron Alliance, and the Voltron Alliance needs Earth.

           Also, Lance just really needs his mom.

           So, here they are, entering the Milky Way Galaxy, all waiting anxiously at their stations on the control deck.

           “Ha! Boom, bitches! Wi-fi is up!” Pidge punches her fists in the air in triumph and ignores the half-hearted look her father shoots her when she says “bitches”.

           The others have long since gotten used to Pidge and her amazing technical ability, but they still all look at her in shock, except for Matt. He had obviously helped her.

           “Pidge, how the hell did you get wi-fi in space?” Keith asks incredulously.

           Lance nods in agreement. “Seriously. Tell me how I can’t get a signal in the desert outside of Galaxy Garrison, but you can get one past Saturn.”

           At this, Pidge snorts and raises an eyebrow at them. “You didn’t have me. Or amazingly amplifying Altean technology.”

           “Something tells me it was mostly the Altean tech.”

           “Shh and bow before my genius.”

           Pidge, Hunk, and Lance all immediately grab their phones and start scrolling on them, ignoring Coran’s announcement that they’ll be to Earth in two dobashes.

           “Oh my god. They told everybody we’re all dead. We have a memorial!” Pidge exclaims.

Keep reading

Shared Pain || Bucky Barnes x Reader [[soulmate au]]

[prompt: soulmate au where you and your soulmate share each other’s pain]

i’ve found a loophole with my laptop and am able to type my stories in my email drafts ;w; it’s a pain to do it, but….it makes it hella easier for me to write without wearing out my thumbs and making typos.

there’s going to be two versions of this story/prompt with two different characters. the first one (this one) will be a bucky barnes x reader while the second one will be a peter parker x reader.

consider this a late birthday fic for bucky barnes as I try to get used to writing for him ;w;

that being said, lets delve into this first story shall we?

warnings: none

permanent tags: @psychicwitchphilosopher

**don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine**

——

You didn’t think you had a soulmate because you seldom felt any pain that didn’t originate from your own personal mishaps. If you did have a soulmate, then perhaps he was someone who wasn’t clumsy and had a high tolerance for pain.

But you highly doubted the existence of such a perfect being. After all, everyone could feel pain.

Keep reading

My champion (Zach Dempsey x Reader)

Warnings : Sad Zach, make out sesh, (mentions of sex ?), also English is still not my native language.
Word count: 2283.

Originally posted by itsme-hannahbaker

A/N: I posted my first imagine a few days ago (about my love, Montgomery, you can read it here) and you guys were just so nice, I received so many kind comments. I know I said it would be my first and last imagine, but I decided to continue writing. I hope you all like this one too xx.


Looking up at the clock, Zach sighed. They had less than fifteen seconds to go, and were ten points behind the other team. There was no way on earth that they could win this time. He turned his attention back to the game, watching as Justin ran towards the basket while dribbling the ball. The crowd cheered as he scored, giving the boys hope to continue the match. The bleachers were filled with cheering teenagers and some parents who came to see their sons play. Most of them were from Liberty High, as they were playing there, but a good third were supporters of the other team. Liberty High managed to score once more before the horn went off, signalling the end of the game. But it wasn’t enough.

Zach groaned, crouching down and letting his head fall into his open hands. Someone tapped his back in a comforting manner, probably Justin, be he did not look up. Instead, he stayed there, with his head hanging low, trying to catch his breath after the intense game. The season has just started and it was the very first match they lost, so he knew it wasn’t the end of the world. But God, was it frustrating. Zach hated losing, failing. He hated when his team would lose a game, he hated when he would fail a test. It did not only make him feel like a failure, but also a disappointment. A disappointment to his friends, to his family, to his girlfriend.

Loud laughs and screams from the other team filled the emptying gymnasium as they celebrated their victory. Zach could hear a few boys snickering as they passed him, heading to the locker room, but he decided to ignore it. He wasn’t one to pick fights.

Y/N stood on the bleachers, her eyes focused on her boyfriend who was still crouching in the middle of the hall. Her heart ached at how defeated he looked at that moment. She knew that Zach would beat himself up, he always did even though she had told him times and times again that it wasn’t his fault; that their team couldn’t win every single game and that the most important thing was to give their best. All she wanted to do was to run up to him and hug him, hold him close to her and rub his back, whispering that they’ll do better next time. But she knew better than to do just that. Y/N knew that Zach needed time after a defeat, so she decided to give it to him. She waited as the gymnasium emptied itself, and then left herself. She decided to wait for her boyfriend and their friends in the parking lot, near Zach’s car.

Jessica and Justin got there first, making their way over Y/N holding hands. Y/N smiled at them and embraced them quickly. She could tell that Justin wasn’t happy with himself either. His eyebrows were in a permanent frown and his lips in a thin line. He was trying not to show how crushed he was, but Y/N had known him for over five years and knew him all too well.

“We’re going to hang out at Bryce’s with the others, you wanna join?” Jessica asked, intertwining her fingers with her boyfriend’s. Y/N thought about the offer, it wouldn’t be too bad, right? Usually they had parties at Bryce’s place after the Tigers won a game, but a get together with a few friends might actually cheer her boyfriend up. She was going to accept and say that they’ll be there in a few, until she saw Zach exiting the high school building.

“Uh, I think we will pass this time. But you have fun, guys.” She patted Justin’s shoulder and hugged Jess again before the couple left, heading to Jess’s car. One look at her boyfriend was enough for her to know that he wasn’t in a partying mood tonight. His eyes missed their usual spark, his grip on his sports bag was so tight his knuckles turned white. Zach took his time making his way over to his girlfriend, his steps long but slow.

“Hey there.” Y/N said softly, putting her arms around his neck and embracing him tightly once he was standing right in front of her. Zach’s head landed on her shoulder and she could feel him let out a long sigh. Her brows furrowed and she bit her bottom lip in concern, pulling away from him as he didn’t hug her back and looked straight into his chocolate brown eyes, waiting for an answer.

“What are you still doing here?” He mumbled, making eye contact for the first time since the end of the game. He didn’t mean to sound rude, though, and she knew it. He was sad and probably a bit ashamed. The boys had spent so much time practicing for this match, as they knew that the team they were playing against was really good. But it was all for nothing, or at least that’s what he thought.

 “Waiting for you.” Y/N said, taking his sports bag from him and putting it in his car’s trunk, ignoring his eye roll.

“I want to be alone, Y/N.” Zach pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched his girlfriend. She turned around to face him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, you don’t.” She took a step toward him, putting her hands on his chest. “You always say you do, but you don’t.” It was true, he knew it. He’d always push her away when he felt like this, but he’d run back to her only a couple of hours later because she was the only one who could make him feel better. A small smile appeared on his face, which made Y/N let out a sigh of relief before she continued. “So, how about we go to Rosie’s, then head back to my place?” She questioned, her eyes sprinkling with hope. Y/N’s enthusiastic expression made Zach’s heart melt. He chuckled as she got on her tiptoes to press her lips to his for a quick but sweet kiss and she knew that he couldn’t resist her now.

“Fine.” Zach put his hands on her hips as she pulled away and leaned in for another kiss, making her giggle. It was crazy how much calmer he was already. Minutes ago he was planning to go home, give the punching ball that he had installed in the basement a few hits, and go to bed – ready to forget about this awful evening. But now all he wanted was to cuddle his girlfriend the whole night while eating some take out from Rosie’s.

Pushing her hair behind her ears, Y/N made her way to the passenger seat, immediately plugging her phone to the radio and blasting her favourite song of the moment. Zach shook his head in amusement, a smirk playing on his lips at the sight of his girl singing along to the music. He started the engine and drove off, soon joining her as they both sang at the top of their lungs. As the couple approached the little restaurant, Y/N was a giggling mess. She looked at her boyfriend as he tried to rap along an Eminem song. He was doing great at first, but then the pace accelerated and she couldn’t hold her laugh in anymore. Y/N unplugged the device from the radio as Zach parked the car, her Y/E/C still looking at him lovingly.

She couldn’t believe that she actually had him. After all these years of crushing on him, he was finally hers. Zach Dempsey was one of the kindest guys at Liberty High, with no doubt. He was everything she has ever wanted, and more. Smart, charming, funny, and extremely good looking. He made her feel things she had never felt before. She felt safe, loved and cherished. She felt like the luckiest girl on the entire planet with him. Y/N didn’t understand what Zach was doing with a simple girl like her, but she wasn’t going to complain, right?

“Let’s go.” Zach’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He winked at her and gave her his famous smile, making her blush before getting out of the car and opening the passenger door for her. Y/N bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to stop herself from laughing, but cracked a big smile at him nonetheless.

Taking her fragile hand in his significantly larger one, the brown-haired boy led his girlfriend to the little restaurant. They sat in their usual booth at the back as they waited for their order.

“We really sucked, huh?” Zach whispered, his mood suddenly changing from joyful to defeated once again. This wasn’t a surprise to Y/N though, she knew that cheering him up wasn’t going to be an easy task. She sighed, placing her hands on his across the table. She gave them a quick squeeze and a sent a reassuring smile in his direction.

“You didn’t. You were all great. You, Justin, all of you!” She was hoping to get a reaction out of him, a smile, a hum, a simple nod would have sufficed – but she got none of that. Instead, Zach was just staring at their hands as Y/N started drawing circles on them with her thumbs in a soothing manner. “Babe, look at me.” She demanded and he slowly obliged.

“We fucked up, that’s all.” He mumbled stubbornly, making Y/N scoff, which caused him to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“You lost the game, yes. But it’s not a big deal. You were good, but the other team was good too. You’ll do better next time. Stop beating yourself up. You’re always going to be my champion.” Zach nodded at her words, smiling as the word champion left her mouth. She would always call him that, whether they won or not. “Now let’s go home.” She said as the waiter brought two plastic bags filled with food to their table. Zach paid for the order before Y/N could even take her wallet out of her pocket, making her groan and him chuckle. They made their way out hand in hand, quickly getting into Zach’s car and driving to Y/N’s house.

Y/N’s parents adored her boyfriend, so they did not mind him spending time at their house. Her mother was so fond of the young boy, always telling her daughter that she should hold him. It took a bit more for her father to appreciate him, but after three months of them dating he understood that Zach’s intentions were good.

Making their way upstairs, Zach and Y/N waved to her parents who were sitting in the living room, watching a movie. Y/N shook her head at her mother, who was about to say something, probably ask how the game went. Her mother shoot her a knowing smile while nodding, then turned back to the TV.

Zach climbed onto Y/N’s bed after putting the take out on her desk. He watched as his girlfriend made her way over to him, lying down next to him and cuddling into his side.

 “So… Movie?” Y/N asked, her hand moving up to his chest as his arm made its way around her waist. Zach pressed his lips to her forehead, making her hum and snuggle closer to him. He cupped her face with his hand gently, tilting it up so he could kiss her properly.

 “Thank you so much for everything, babe.” He mumbled against her lips before kissing her again, but this time more forcefully, totally ignoring her question. Y/N internally rolled her eyes, but did not complain. In fact, she pulled him closer to her by his neck, deepening the kiss as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, making him groan. Zach swiftly moved them so he was hovering over her, his arms on either side of her body. Y/N’s fingers played with the little hairs at the base of his neck, which she knew was going to drive him crazy. She couldn’t help but giggle as Zach rolled his hips into hers, again and again.

 “What are you laughing at?” He broke the kiss, looking up at him with eyes filled with lust. Y/N bit her bottom lip at his appearance. His pupils dilated, his hair messy and his lips swollen from her kisses. She wanted to do so many things to him, but she knew she couldn’t. Not with her parents awake downstairs.

  “You know we can’t do that.” She said softly, her lips brushing against his. Zach groaned, his head falling into the crook of her neck, leaving a few kisses there. Once again, she was right. Y/N’s parents might be accepting of their relationship, but he knew they should not push things too far. The girl kissed his temple, her hands running up and down his back as they laid there for a few more seconds, just enjoying each other’s company.

“We should eat, the food is getting cold.” She pushed him off of her softly and got up to take the bags from the desk, bringing them to her bed. Zach was still lying there, facing the celling. “Come on, we can eat, watch a movie and then when they’re asleep, maybe…” She did not finish the sentence, she did not need to. The boy’s eyes widened, full of hope and lust once again. He smirked at her, making her roll her eyes as he moved to sit next to her. He smiled to himself, pecking her lips one more time. He couldn’t wait to see where the night was going to take them.


The end was terrible, I’m really sorry about that. This whole thing is a flop tbh.

Tagging @xbarrjallenx, @ans-atkins, @arch1eandrews (cause you’re total Ross trash hun)

I actually have a few ideas for another Monty imagine, a Justin one and a Jeff one, but I don’t know if I should write them?? Anyways, let me know if you’d like that!

POTC 5: Barbossa, Salazar, and an Alternate Ending

WARNING: SPOILERS

I have been a big fan of the POTC franchise since the beginning, and while I honestly think that Disney is trying too hard to milk every last penny from it and that POTC 5 should be the last of the series (or perhaps that it should have ended before now), I will say that, despite its flaws, the most recent installment wrapped up a lot of loose ends nicely and gave us some great additions to POTC lore and character development. While Jack, unfortunately, suffered a bit in this film–his usual wit and charm replaced almost entirely with attempts at comic relief–Barbossa and Salazar generally make up for it.

Throughout the series, Barbossa has been, in my opinion, one of the most morally ambiguous and well-developed characters, and this installment only furthered my convictions. Originally viewed as a villain opposite Jack, Will, and Elizabeth in the first film, by film number three, he has teamed up with the main couple to help rescue Jack and fight against the “bigger” Big Bads Davy Jones and the British Navy. Here, he is portrayed as being a bit more noble (well, by pirate standards, anyway) and shows great respect for Elizabeth as the Pirate King when she steps up and leads them into battle. By film number four, he has apparently become a privateer (though primarily out of a desire to hunt down Blackbeard in revenge for taking The Pearl, and with it, his leg) but this endeavor doesn’t last long, and as soon as Blackbeard is off the radar, he goes back to his pirating ways. And even AS a privateer, we see a moment of what cruelty he is capable of when he leaves his crew to die at the hands of the mermaids. Nevertheless, he pretty much fully redeems himself in the most recent film through his relationship with his daughter. While, admittedly, it was a bit cheesy and perhaps somewhat out of character at times, I loved the implication that there was once a woman Barbossa genuinely loved and that, upon her death, thinking himself incapable of raising the child, he was actually strong enough to do the right thing and find a place to take her in. It was strange yet incredibly touching getting to see this softer side of Barbossa. The moment Carina slapped him for (supposedly) insulting her father, you could see it in his eyes that he was torn between feeling hurt and ashamed of what he was and simultaneously being proud of her for having the guts to stand up to a pirate of his stature in defense of her father. I would honestly have loved to get an entire film’s worth of father/daughter moments between these two, and after seeing him come so far as to be willing to sacrifice himself for her safety, I really hated to see him go. More on that later…

As for Salazar, I am not yet quite sure what to think about him or how to categorize his character. On the one hand, we have to remember that we are (technically) rooting for the “bad guys” by society’s standards, and while we all love Jack & co., pirates were a real and troubling threat to merchant vessels, the navy, etc. Not everyone they attacked deserved it, and not all pirates are as morally decent as Jack, Will, Elizabeth, etc. usually are. In his mind, Salazar is doing his duty to society and protecting the innocent. Yes, we get a glimpse of him refusing to show mercy to a group of pirates who have surrendered, but to be fair, had their roles been reversed, many pirates might not have shown mercy either. Additionally, Salazar has a personal motivation to dislike pirates, as they were responsible for the deaths of both his father and grandfather–men whom he looked up to, respected, and probably loved. We don’t know exactly how old he was when this happened, but if he was still a child at the time, it would have been EXTREMELY difficult for his mother, as a single woman during a time when most respectable women were not employed much outside the home, to support him and herself. Furthermore, Jack–as a boy–both humiliated him and doomed him to what must have felt like an eternity of a ghostly/undead existence trapped in the Devil’s Triangle. I was reminded, here, of a parallel between the Salazar/Jack relationship and that of Captain Hook and Peter Pan… Jack, much like Peter, is the young, cocky boy who somehow manages to get the best of the more experienced, older sailor. In the original novel, there is actually a line about how Hook (who is stuck in a place which for a child is paradise but for an adult is a living nightmare) feels like a lion in trapped in a cage into which a sparrow has flown. Similarly, Salazar himself tells us that he is the one who gave Jack the surname “Sparrow” because he was “up in the crow’s nest…like a…like a little bird.” Whether or not the parallels were intentional, I don’t know, but as a long-time fan of Hook, it definitely made Salazar a more interesting and sympathetic character to me. On the other hand, Salazar is incredibly legalistic (like Inspector Javert on steroids), obsessive, merciless, and unnecessarily cruel. I realize the Spanish and English navies weren’t exactly friendly toward each other, but you have to admit, Salazar and his crew slaughtering the members of the British navy who enter the Devil’s Triangle was rather uncalled for. It’s like he did it just because he could. He is also so focused on ending Jack’s life that he leaves his newly un-cursed crew to drown at the bottom of the sea. Then again…Barbossa did almost the exact same thing with his privateer crew in the previous film when he left them for the mermaids, and we still root for him… Why is it that when Will Turner seeks revenge on Davy Jones for cursing his father or when Barbossa seeks revenge on Blackbeard for stealing the Pearl and the loss of his leg, we root for them, yet when Salazar has an equally legitimate reason to hate Jack, he is a villain? (I know, I know… Because it’s Jack’s story and you can’t really dislike the protagonist. But still…) Salazar is an interesting guy, and it just seemed WAY too easy to have him turn mortal for all of five minutes and then immediately kill him off. Plus, I felt bad because DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE WHEN HE TURNED HUMAN AGAIN?!?! He was practically on the verge of weeping for joy! I really wish they would have allowed for him to potentially return in human form for future films. I also have to wonder, having earlier mentioned his likeness to Javert, if put in a similar situation in which the pirates shattered his illusion of the world as morally black and white, he might have had a change of heart (or ya know…a mental breakdown…). Either way, I wish we got more Salazar.

…Which brings me back to the point I was making before… As moving and poignant as Barbossa’s death was, I don’t believe that was actually necessary. Realistically, with Salazar mortal and his entire crew swept away by the sea, it would have been easy for Jack’s crew to take him out once the anchor was raised and everyone was back onboard the Pearl. He would have been severely outnumbered, and they could have easily killed him or taken him captive. True, you could argue that Barbossa was worried Salazar would get to Carina first and harm her before they were back on the ship, but with him in mortal form, all Carina would really have to do to disable him is give him a swift kick in the face. Besides, if she hadn’t been so overwhelmed in the moment, I don’t think Carina would have willingly let go of her father’s hand. She literally JUST found out that the man who saved her life, the infamous pirate captain of Blackbeard’s former ship The Queen Anne’s Revenge, is the man she has spent her entire life searching for. You can’t convince me that she wouldn’t have clung to him for dear life if she had been in her right mind. I don’t blame her, mind you–it’s a lot to take in in such a short amount of time, and I don’t think she had time to fully process it all, but if she had thought about it, I’m certain she would have refused to let him go.

So imagine it, for a moment….

xxxxx

Barbossa guided her hand to the chain, telling her to hold on as he began to loosen his grip, a sad smile on his face. He only just met his daughter but he was already so proud of her. It was a shame he wouldn’t get to spend more time with her, but perhaps it was better this way.  She had slapped him when he had insulted her father before she knew who he was. If she had known then, he thought, she might have slapped him a second time. Perhaps now, at least, she might see him as something more heroic than the disappointment that he was.

It didn’t take long for Carina to realize what he was doing, her face turning white with horror as his fingers began to slip.

“NO!” she screamed, latching onto his wrist. “I’ve spent all my life searching for you, and now I’ve finally found you! I’m not letting you go now!”

He had not planned for this. He had hoped to go out in figurative blaze of glory, hoped that in his death he might redeem himself in her eyes and make up for the years he had left her alone in the world. But she wouldn’t let him have that satisfaction. She wouldn’t let him go that easily. There was a fierce determination in her eyes, eyes that remind him of another woman he had once loved. And so for her sake, he held on–tighter than he has ever held onto anything in his life.

As the anchor rose from the water, he saw the crew of the Pearl coming to their aid.

“Hector!” Jack shouted down at him from the deck where the others have helped him aboard. There was genuine worry in his voice.

Strange, he mused, how far they have come. For as long as they had known each other, they had always alternated between being at each other’s throats and being brothers in arms. He had once gone to the ends of the earth–to hell and back, as it were–for the Pearl…but also partially for Jack, he admitted. And seeing his current expression, he had no doubts that Jack would do the same for him because, at the end of the day, pirates though they were, they would always have each other’s back.

He climbed aboard, soaked to the skin and looking far more like a wet rat than the fearsome captain that he was, Jack and Gibbs each grabbing an arm to steady him while Henry helped Carina. He recalled, for a moment, the highly unorthodox wedding ceremony he’d performed on the deck of this very ship all those years ago and smiled almost fondly at the boy, wondering if perhaps he’d be performing another in a couple of years. He had missed so much of his daughter’s life… He hoped it wasn’t too late to change that.

Apparently, it wasn’t because the moment her feet hit the deck, she was embracing first Henry, then him.

“Father,” she whispered.

And for the first time in many, many years, he felt the sting of tears behind his closed eyes.

But the moment was cut short as the last few feet of the chain holding the anchor rose from the depths of the sea, carrying with it a final passenger who hoisted himself over the railing and onto the deck–Captain Armando Salazar, in the flesh, at last. Long strands of dark hair, no longer floating freely as they had in his ghostly form, were plastered against his face, but his uniform–though stuck to his skin with the weight of the water it had absorbed–was as pristine-looking as ever. His face had a bit of color now–more olive than the ghastly chalky complexion they’d seen before, but it hardly diminished his intimidating presence, his eyes still hard and cold.

But intimidating or not, he was no longer immortal. And without a weapon in his hand or at his side–the sword he usually carried having been lost to the sea in the midst of all the chaos–he was, for all intents and purposes, defenseless. He was outnumbered, out gunned, and on a ship which was not his own. He was at their mercy.

Almost immediately, there were a half a dozen swords pointed at his throat and nearly twice as many pistols aimed at his chest, no longer permeable as mist but made of flesh and bone beneath which lay the beating heart of a man. His weakness became apparent at nearly the same moment that he felt the heat of the sun upon his cheek and the gentle sea breeze ruffle his hair for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. In the span of seconds, his face displayed a vast array of emotions almost too quickly for his mind to keep up–the proud, determined look of a hunter having cornered his prey replaced instantaneously with that of immeasurable joy, realization, fear, rage, and defeated resignation.

Surprisingly, Jack was the first to lower his weapon, but it wasn’t so much a gesture of mercy as it was an insult. There was no need  for a weapon now. The Spaniard had climbed aboard the Pearl without any men of his own and was now its captain’s prisoner. His only choice was between Jack’s crew and the sharks…and the latter would be much less forgiving. Having experienced death himself before, Jack knew that no sane man who had escaped such a fate would ever take his own life, no matter how desperate. And even if he had considered it, Salazar’s pride would not allow it.

“It would seem,” Jack said, striding across the deck, “that El Matador del Mar has once again met his match. The butcher’s bill has been paid in full. You and your crew have had your humanity restored–that counts for something, I should think. I took your life once. I’ve no desire to take it again, so what say we simply call it even and agree to disagree until I can drop you off on some nice, deserted island, savvy?”

“My crew,” Salazar spat, “is at the bottom of the sea.”

“Well, that’s not my problem, now, is it? I’m not their captain who left them there to drown.”

The Spaniard took a step toward him, forgetting for a moment that he no longer held the sword which often doubled as his cane. He stumbled, then, landing in a heap at Jack’s feet, as his knees buckled at the searing pain that shot up his leg. He was spewing curses, swearing like the sailor that he was in a garbled mix of Spanish and English so viciously that an onlooker who did not speak a word of either language wouldn’t have needed a translation.

“You…!!!” he seethed. “You took EVERYTHING from me!”

He was clawing at the deck, trying desperately to pull himself up, but his leg was too weak. His mortality had returned in full force, bringing with it the fresh pain of an old wound that he had not been able to feel for years. He dragged himself over to the mast that he might have something to brace himself against, crawling on his hands and knees.

“My pride, my ship, my crew, my family, my life, my very soul…” He propped himself up against the mast, too tired and too ashamed to struggle any further. “What more do you want from me?!”

Jack’s gaze softened. “Nothing,” he said quietly. “I never wanted anything from you but my freedom. I wanted you out of my way, I wanted you lost at sea…but I swear on my life I never intended for you to end up…” He gestured to his face, trailing his fingers in lines of imaginary squid ink dribbling down his chin, smacking his lips as though even the thought left a horrid taste in his mouth and shuddered. “Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“You have no idea what sort of hell I have been through.”

“Oh, I think I can imagine…”

It was not Jack but Barbossa who had spoken.

Perhaps it was only because Carina was watching and being a father made him want to be a better man, but for whatever reason, Barbossa felt compelled to take pity on the man. Jack had been to The Locker, it was true. And that in and of itself was enough to drive a man to madness… But he had not spent years cursed in an undead state like he and the original crew of the Pearl had. That was something entirely different and drew forth memories of a time which Barbossa did not recall with any fondness. He stepped forward, his own bejeweled peg leg dragging slightly as he walked–another area in which he could all too easily empathize with the man propping himself up against the mast.

“Ye’re always starvin’ but food turns tah ash in your mouth. Always dyin’ of thirst, yet nothin’ ever quenches it. Ye cannot feel–not the sun or the rain on yer face nor the softness of a woman’s touch nor the fiery sting of cold steel slicin’ yer skin. Yer heart no longer beats, yet somehow ye’re still alive. Everything that once had meanin’ is empty and hollow. Ye’re a dead man walkin’.”

Salazar bore a pained expression. For a moment, he could not find his voice. Then…

“How…?” he croaked.

“Yer not the only man what has been cursed in such a manner and lived to tell the tale. Or rather…come back from the dead to tell it.”

At this, Carina gave a start. Realizing that the undead were real was one thing. Realizing that her long-lost father (who also happened to be a pirate captain) had once been among them was quite another. But that, she supposed, was a story for another day. She had so many questions already. Life with her father, it seemed, would be much more complicated than she had anticipated. Yet she could not deny a slight thrill at the thought of more adventures at his side.

“‘Twas our greed and our pride that did us in,” Barbossa continued. “Aztec gold, cursed by the pagan gods… We were warned of the consequences, but we heeded them not. 'Twas yer own pride that did ye in as well, I suspect. Nothin’ would do but tah take yer revenge on every last pirate sailin’ in the Spanish Main for the deaths of yer father and his father before him. I can’t rightly say that I blame ye for that… Ye say that we’re not worthy of bein’ called men at all, that we are loathsome creatures lower than the bilge rats and the barnacles on the hull of a ship. That may be so. I am hardly an honest man.”

He glanced briefly at Carina, looking somewhat ashamed, then returned his attention to Salazar.

“Yet ye do it in the name of honor and justice. But if it’s vengeance yer seekin’, then ye ought to at least have the decency tah call it what it is like the rest of us… There’s as much blood on yer hands as there is on ours. Perhaps more. If ye be satisfied knowin’ that, then by all means, continue yer reign as El Matador del Mar–that is, assumin’ ye make it off this ship alive. But if ye want tah keep tellin’ yerself yer better than us humble pirates, now’s the time tah prove it. Not all men make it to hell and back alive, and one thing I can tell ye, when yer given a second chance at life, ye ought not tah waste it.”

He looked back at Carina.

“Take it from someone who’s wasted too many second chances already.”

The Spaniard laughed bitterly. “You think that by sparing me you may spare yourselves of my wrath when I am free? My life was devoted to hunting down men like you–murderous thieves who take what they can and give nothing back. Without that, what am I?” He glared at Jack. “Give me a weapon, and I will fight you to the death. Or kill me now, like a man. But stop this foolish pretense! We both know what you are, Jack Sparrow!”

“Firstly,” Jack replied, “there should be a 'captain’ in there somewhere. Secondly, despite what you may think, I am neither stupid enough to give you a weapon nor cruel enough to kill an unarmed man. So it seems we are at an impasse.”

He began pacing the deck.

“You know, I once knew a man who thought like you.”

He paused to glance at Henry.

“His father was a pirate…AND a good man. Took him awhile to accept that.”

His gaze returned to Salazar.

“Truth is, the world’s not all black and white, mate, and thank goodness for that because it would be a dreadfully dull place if it was. For example…” He spread his arms wide, taking a mock bow. “I am a pirate. I admit to that. But I am not a cold-blooded killer. You, on the other hand…” He pointed at Salazar with the tip of his sword. “Well, let’s just say they don’t call you 'The Butcher’ for nothing. Now tell me, mate, which one of us is the better man?”

For a moment, Salazar was silent. Then, he looked to Henry.

“You, boy…your father is the captain of the Dutchman?”

“Yes, sir.”

Salazar nodded soberly. “A good man.”

“And a former pirate, I might add,” Jack interjected.

But a deadly glare from the Spanish captain quickly silenced him.

“Right,” he apologized. “Sorry. Continue.”

“He tried to come for us, once. To ferry us to the next world…to set us free from this curse, that we might be at peace.” He laughed darkly. “But there are some places too cursed for even the Dutchman to go.”

Henry nodded soberly. “I’m sorry. He would have done more if he could have, I’m sure.”

Salazar returned the gesture. Though he could not fully explain why, he had a great deal of respect for the boy. He had seen the terror in the boy’s eyes when his crew attacked the British naval ship, yet despite his fear, he did not run but looked death in the face. He was confident, yet not cocky like Jack; quiet, yet he did not hesitate to speak his mind when necessary. And there was another quality the boy had which he did not expect of one with such close ties to pirates–honor. Possessing the boy had given him a glance into the heart and soul of the young man before him, their consciousness merging until one man’s thoughts and emotions were barely distinguishable from the other. He had seen Jack, then, through the boy’s eyes…and he had seen the monster he had become–internally as well as externally, his humanity all but gone. It had been deeply disturbing. Recalling the boy’s thoughts now, he remembered something which he hadn’t taken notice of before, a troubled frown forming on his lips. His eyes shifted tentatively to Jack, and for a moment, he merely held his gaze, causing the pirate to squirm uncomfortably.

“While I was controlling the boy’s mind,” he began, “I saw something…not a memory–at least, not a memory of his… More like a dream…like visions of a legend…a story he had been told as a child…. His father was still a mortal then…. He was dying. You had the heart of Davy Jones in your hand, ready to become the next captain of that otherworldly ship that you yourself might gain immortality…. But you chose to save him instead…. Is this true?”

“Well, now, 'saved’ is a rather strong word, given that becoming the captain of said ship comes with its own curses which is how we ended up in this bloody mess to begin with, searching for the trident….”

Salazar scowled impatiently.

“But technically speaking, yes.”

“I see…” The Spaniard looked to Henry. “You trust this man? This…this pirate?”

Henry slowly lifted his eyes to Jack, then smiled. “With my life, sir.”

Salazar grunted.

“Captain…”

“Yes?” Barbossa, Jack, and Salazar answered simultaneously.

Realizing the need for clarification, Henry started again. “Er…that is…Captain Salazar… If I may ask… While I was subject to your power, I endured a nightmare like nothing I had ever experienced before. I felt…so cold, so isolated… It was as if I were drowning in a darkness and despair so deep that it smothered everything else–all thoughts and emotions consumed by what must have been the last thing that you felt in life…a burning, blinding rage. It was suffocating, as though I was so far removed from humanity that I had forgotten everything and everyone else in the world… My entire identity was gone, my own memories were unreachable–a distant, foggy dream. And yet…one name remained on the tip of my tongue, a name I do not know….”

“Maria,” Salazar whispered reverently.

“The Silent Mary…. It isn’t just the name of a ship, is it?” Henry asked. “Who was she?”

There was a wistful gleam in his eyes. It was the most vulnerable, the most human, he had looked since regaining his mortality.

“The most beautiful woman in all of Spain…my wife.” He smiled sadly. “She was with child when I left. She didn’t want me to go. Of course, I told her not to worry, and I promised her that that mission would be my last…. But then…I never came home.” He looked at Jack. “That is why I was so angry.” He sighed. “I do not know what became of them. She has probably long forgotten about me. If she is even still alive…I doubt she or the child would want to see me now. They would not believe my story…and if they did, they would be repulsed by what I became. I have nothing now. Nothing. No crew at sea, no one waiting at home….” He eyed Jack’s sword almost pleadingly. “What is left but to fight one last fight and at least die with a little honor? Perhaps this time, I will have peace.”

“You do your family a great disservice, sir.” This time, it was Carina who spoke. “If she loved you as much as you love her, then I am certain she never gave up hope. Nor did her child.”

“Oh? How do you know that?”

She was addressing Salazar, but her eyes were on Barbossa, bright with unshed tears.

“The same way that I knew someday, somehow, I would find my father…. And if you truly care about them, who you are…or who you were…none of that will matter when they finally see you.”

“Ah, but you forget… I have neither ship nor crew–”

“We’ll help you find them,” Henry blurted.

“We will?” asked Jack.

“Aye,” Barbossa slapped Jack on the back. “We will.”

“Wait a moment! Wait a moment!” Jack waved his hands. He gestured to Barbossa. “You’re a pirate.” He pointed to Salazar. “He’s a pirate hunter. You want to help him, yet he wants to kill us. DID I BLOODY MISS SOMETHING?!?”

“Well, seein’ as we are aboard MY ship, I don’t see why it should concern ye, Jack,” Barbossa grinned.

“I believe you mean MY ship,” Jack corrected him. “You may have your Queen Anne’s Revenge, but the Pearl is mine. I saved her from Blackbeard’s stash of shrunken ships and protected her with me life.”

“Aye, but I’m the one who freed her for ye. Mister Gibbs,” he addressed the first mate.

“Aye, sir?”

“Set a course fer Spain. We’ve a long journey ahead of us, so we’d best be gettin’ started.”

Gibbs, who had long grown used to the two captains bickering over the ownership of the Pearl, nodded, assuming they would eventually come to some sort of agreement, as they always did.

“Aye-aye, sir.”

“Oh, and Gibbs?” Barbossa stopped him. “Don’t fly the colors.”

“Do I get any say in this at all?” Jack protested.

Barbossa, Carina, and Henry answered in unison. “No!”

Jack sighed. “Alright… Well, then…” He offered Salazar his hand. “I suppose we have a truce?”

Salazar hesitated, then grudgingly accepted the offer, bracing himself against the mast as he pulled himself up to his full height.

“Truce.” Salazar leaned in so his mouth was just above Jack’s ear. “But know this, Sparrow… If I happen to end up on the seas again, if you ever attack a Spanish ship….”

“I know, I know…. You’ll hunt me down and destroy me.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Captain.”

He turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Sparrow….”

Jack looked back at the man who had spent a lifetime of hating men like him and saw the faintest gleam of something that almost resembled respect.

“Gracias.”

Jack nodded. As he walked away, he breathed a sigh of relief, striding up beside Barbossa. “Hector, you owe me one for this,” he grumbled.

Barbossa, who had uncorked a bottle of rum, took a large swig and offered a sip to Jack, who graciously accepted.

“Go easy on it, Jack. We’ve naught but a few barrels left, and as we be sailin’ away from the Caribbean, it may be awhile before we get the chance to restock.”

Jack sighed again and shook his head, looking sadly at the bottle. “Why is the bloody rum always gone?”

Imagine Moriarty taking you shopping for clothes (changing room smut)

Moriarty X Reader


Mirrors


“I like this one,” Jim holds up a black mini skirt. “And this.” He picks up a black, low-cut top. Very sexy. Not your kind of thing really, but Moriarty gets what Moriarty wants when it comes to you, so you smile and agree. “Let’s go try them, come on.” He takes your hand and leads you to the changing room.

“I’m afriad you can’t go in there with her, Sir.” The woman tells him, as you walk past her to the cubicles.

“I’m afraid it’s the only way you’re going to get any money.” He smiles what is a seemingly charming smile, but you know it better. It’s his don’t-fuck-with-me-darling smile. You’ve seen it enough. The woman sighs and turns away, giving up, so you and Jim go into the room that’s furthest away from anyone else. Once he locks the door, you look around. The room is completely mirrored, you can see yourself from every angle, reflected infinitely from mirror to mirror. Jim looks at you and you smile a little. “Turn around, beautiful.” He tells you, and you do so immediately. He slowly unzips the back of your dress and it falls to the ground. His lips press against your neck and you shiver, partially due to the sudden change in body temperature, and partially due to the contact with him. By his order, you’re not wearing any lingerie today, so you’re completely naked, staring at yourself in the mirror, with him behind you, staring at you in the mirror too. You smile a little. “Dear God, you are a beautiful specimen, aren’t you?” His eyes drink you in, every little exposed inch of your body. Regardless of your flaws, he will always find you stunningly beautiful, perfect.

“Thank you, darling.” You giggle lightly as his hands run over your breasts and tugs at your now-hard nipples. He kisses your neck, biting down softly. You moan a little, and lean your body back into him. He moves his mouth to your collar bone and kisses wetly across it. “Oh, Jim…” You whisper. He gently pushes you against the mirror, so your face is up against it.

“Stay there, my beautiful girl.” He reaches down, you watch him in the mirror, and gets the skirt. “Try it on, baby.” He hands it to you. You put it on slowly, purposfully bending all the way down, giving him a full view of your ass.

“Do me up, babe?” You ask, tease in your voice. He zips you up and looks at your reflection.

“That’s lovely on you.” He smiles. The skirt is very, very short – of course he’d like it. You sigh and laugh.

“Thank you, dear.” You suddenly feel his slap on your butt. You gasp. “Jim!”

“Y/N!” He mocks your tone of voice with a grin. He pushes you against the wall once more, except this time in the corner, so that your hands are on both walls and you’re bent over. You hear his zipper and your breath hitches.

“Here?! Really?” You ask, your voice a loud whisper.

“Yes, really.” You watch his smile in the reflection. You move your hands lower down the walls so you have better support to hold your body. He smacks you again and you grit your teeth.

“Jim, you bad man…” You laugh lightly. You love how bad he is -  it’s a massive, massive turn on for you. You feel his erection press against your leg. Damn.

“You love me really.”

“I do.”

“Good girl.” He strokes your ass and kisses down your spine. His member teases your hole and your heart is in your mouth. “I’m so hard for you.”

“You should be.” You retort, making him smile.

He suddenly fills you. You don’t expect it, so you shout out. “Shush, shush, baby. We’re in a shop, remember?” He asks, laughing.

“Oh yeah….” You giggle and as you move, you feel your body move against his penis, moving it further inside of you. He then begins properly, going in and out, in and out, slowly. Damn, it feels good, you feel so full – full of him, this man that you love more than anything else. His one hand holds across your stomach, so he doesn’t fall, and the other goes further south, massaging your button almost mercilessly. His fingers spread you and enter you and you bite you lip trying not to shout out. He puts a third finger in you and you feel the stretch. Heat builds up inside you and each time he thrusts fully into you, you see stars. You both moan and groan and pant loudly, louder than you should in a public place.

“Cl-close?” He asks, his sweat dripping onto your back.

“Y-Y- Ah! Jim! Fuck!” You come without warning, and he does too, immediately after, shouting your name in one incoherent moan. You stay there for a moment, panting, and see the white substance dripping down your inner thigh slowly. You close your eyes and are vaguely aware of his hands on your leg.

“Lick.” He whispers, his fingers by your mouth. Upon further inspection, you see that he has collected some of his sperm on them. “Lick them, baby girl.” You grab his fingers and suck on them hard. You love how he tastes. “There’s my good girl.” He smiles against your bare skin, and stands you up properly, turning you around to kiss you passionately.

“YOU TWO GET OUT NOW!” A voice shouts from the other side of the door. You’ve been caught.

“What a shame…” Moriarty mutters, holding your new skirt out to look at it. “We didn’t even get a chance to try on the top.”



THE END

sweetmisschesire  asked:

so in your spy au how exactly did the others react to the whole, spine deal?

Lance definitely jumps through a lot of hoops to make sure the others don’t find out about his spine. He doesn’t want to be asked questions or to be pitied. He only showers at night when he knows everyone is asleep, he constantly wears his hood up to make sure they don’t see his neck where the spine ends, if anyone even touches a little to close to it, he’ll put some room between them and hope they didn’t feel the metal through his clothes.

But he can’t keep the secret forever. During one of his showers Hunk had tried to go looking for him, and caught Lance with his shirt off. Hunk was devastated to find out that the Fall had been so much worse than any of them could have imagined. He doesn’t know how to help his friend through something like this. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He comes up to Lance and tells him that he knows about his spine, and tells him that no matter what he will support him. He hugs him more, and makes sure that Lance isn’t alone as much anymore. Hell talk to him about what he missed while on his mission, and Lance slowly trusts Hunk enough to look at his spine, to touch it. Hunk is the first person since Lance got back to touch his back without him skittering off.

After Lance’s talk with Shiro, he shows him his spine. And Shiro is super supportive. He knows what it’s like to lose something because of the Galra, even if though it’s the thing that saved Lance’s life. Lance confesses that he has nightmares about it and will sometimes get phantom pains in his spine and arm. Shiro’s helps Lance through all of it, he helps Lance as best as he can when he get phantom pains. And he even sleeps with Lance for awhile to help him with his nightmares(and it actually helps both of them with their nightmares.) after that Lance slowly trust the others with the truth of his spine, person by person.

When he shows Pidge, she is so upset that he had to go through something like that alone. She decides that she wants to help as much as she can. She may not be an engineer, she may not be the most personal person when it comes to emotions. But she will make an effort to understand it, so that way Lance will have someone to go to when he wants. She asks a lot of questions about it when they’re alone. He doesn’t always answer them, but she does get some information about it slowly. She tries to show him that it doesn’t matter to her if his spine was replaced, he’s still Lance.(and he greatly appreciates it. Even if the questions drag up unpleasant memories.)

Allura is so heartbroken when he finally tells her. She had suspicions about how Lance survived the Fall, but she never imagined something like this. She blames herself for a long while that this happened, that she put Lance in such a position, that she didn’t tell the others when she should have. She doesn’t really know how to help Lance, doesn’t know what humans view as comforting or supportive, but she tries her best. It takes awhile, fighting Galra and freeing planets from their reins taking up a lot of their time, but Allura does her best to try and find something that she and Lance can do together, to show that she does care about him and wish to help him find some normalcy in his life again.

When Lance shows Coran, he can honestly say that he was scared that Coran would treat him differently because of it. Lance knows that Coran sees him like a son, and to see someone that close to you get hurt and changed in ways neither of them fully understand, it can change their perception of you. But Coran gives him a tearful smile and hugs Lance, telling him that he’s just glad that he made it back, mostly. Whenever Lance gets pulled into a flashback of his time with the Galra and Shiro isn’t there, he’ll search out Coran who will gladly sit with him and help him through it, and afterwards he will tell him stories of his many adventures in the galaxy to help Lance keep his mind off of his own problems.

Keith was the last to find out. And it wasn’t in the best way. He also had suspicions about how Lance survived the Fall, but was to scared and filled with guilt to try and ask. It was when the team had locked them in a room together to try and work past their problem. Lance was still super pissed at what Keith did, and Keith couldn’t blame him, he was pissed at himself too. But after a few hours of just silence, Keith knows that he needs to make some effort to try and fix their relationship. But he isn’t very good when it comes to feelings, so his apology is abit lacking (doesn’t mean that he doesn’t mean it, he just doesn’t know what to say) and it sets Lance off, saying that he doesn’t deserve his forgiveness, he doesn’t know if he can. He rants about what happened after he left him, about his spine and the ‘therapy’ that Haggar put him through. And Keith can’t believe that he put his teammate, his friend through all of that. He cant forgive himself as he watches Lance just scream at him and cry over all the pain that he went through because of Keith’s decision. He knows he isn’t good with words when it comes to stuff like this, but he’s always relied on his instincts. So before either of them can figure out what’s happening, Keith is hugging Lance, silent tears running down his face as he mumbles apology after apology. And after awhile he feels Lance hug him back. He knows that it isn’t enough to fix what he’s done; nothing will ever be enough, but it’s a start.

Not Quite a Coffee Shop AU

From a suggestion from @wordsmith-storyweaver

3.8k words of something

Also on AO3

She needs a second job and The Library needs a barista. Who knew she would end up with more than free coffee…

The first time Emma Swan tastes coffee, she is six. Her foster mom leaves a cup unattended as she goes to answer the phone (one of those old kinds with the long, twirling cords that is attached to the wall). It’s bitter. And hot. It burns her tongue and she hates it.

***

When she is 14 it becomes cool to hang out at the coffee shop, drinking beverages that are more milk than anything else. She has a crush on the barista with the blue streak in his hair. He kisses her behind the store. He tastes like cigarettes. He asks her out on a date but doesn’t turn up at the fair.

She hates coffee again.

***

At 16, she meets Neal. He takes her to an empty fairground and buys her coffee. (The irony is not lost on her.) She sips and listens as he talks of home and wanting; she falls for him a little after only knowing him for a few hours. He’s real and vital and understands what it’s like: being alone. Feeling lost.

***

(She should have known it wouldn’t last. Then she’s alone again.)

***

Years later and it’s become her drug of choice on those cold nights where she needs to stay awake. Bail bonds isn’t glamorous, but it can be lucrative. It’s just unpredictable. Coffee… well, it isn’t. Even the instant kind that clings to the back of your throat has a strange kind of comfort when it’s 4 am and you’ve stared at the same door for six hours.

***

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making my heart beat again

so, thanks to @startofamoment for the absolutely amazing prompt (this and all the others, which you should check out here!) and to @elsaclack for all her help - hope y’all like it!! (title from stuck like glue, by sugarland)


He’s still chuckling at her screaming sheep prank as he walks out of the break room. He’s ten paces away when he turns back, ready to stick his tongue out at her and yell one last comeback. Except that’s when he sees it: the Double Tuck.

His first thought is of Rosa and her scarily accurate Amy impression and then all of a sudden that won’t leave his head. Amy’s put her phone away, is pouring a packet of sugar into her coffee, and he’s standing completely still with the image of Rosa smiling and tucking her hair behind both ears overlaid on images of Amy doing the same thing. It replays for maybe a second or maybe an hour or maybe a month – he can’t really be sure because his stomach is bottoming out and his foot is tapping uncontrollably and every rational thought in his mind is on hiatus. Then, finally, the buzzing in his brain stops and he hears Rosa talking about how, “When Amy really likes someone…”

And his feet are moving.

He’s not sure what he’ll do when he gets to the break room. He has no plan, no inkling of what he wants to say to her. But she likes him and he keeps repeating it to himself in his head so that the words take on rhythm as he walks – shelikesmeshelikesmeshelikesme – and then he’s at the door of the break room, putting his hand on the handle.

She looks so beautiful that it takes whatever breath he still had away for a moment – her forehead is a bit scrunched in the way it is when she’s focused on a difficult problem as she pours milk into her mug with the precision of a scientist. Her hair is falling like curtains around her face, largely obstructing his view, and he takes a moment, as he always does, to wonder what it would be like to touch it.

And then he remembers: she maybe likes him so he’ll maybe get to find out.

That sobering thought brings him crashing back to reality. His stomach, which had been swooshing back and forth, settles. His mouth closes, his teeth clacking together with the speed of the movement. His hand falls limply off the doorknob. Because he has no idea what comes next.

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Pre-Wedding || An Interview!

Authors Note: This picture gave me a mini idea, it is short, but I thought it worked. :) xx 
Shawn Master List found HERE



Of all things to do on his wedding day, he had an early morning radio interview scheduled to keep him occupied while his nerves hum through his veins. 

He has been on edge since the minute he left you yesterday morning, you both decided on the whole, ‘Not seeing each other twenty-four hours’, before the wedding. 

He left his parents’ house this morning, wearing his tux, excited to finally wear it on his big day. Shawn knew there was no way he would be able to contain himself, so, he scheduled an early interview to keep him occupied since the ceremony wasn’t until the afternoon. 

He smiles as he enters the studio, his eyes full of love and pleasure, content radiating off of him thoroughly. 

“Shawn, welcome! We are loving the wedding attire,” the host beams, Shawn smirking as he stares down for a split second, 

“Thank you! Yeah, my wedding is in four hours, pretty fucking ready, had to keep occupied so here I am,” Shawn chuckles, trying to contain his enthusiasm. He was advised not to give away too many details about the wedding so that the media and fans would not show up and force their way into getting exclusive pictures.

“Are you ready? I feel like you are ready to jump out of your skin.”

“I am more than ready. I haven’t spoken to my bride, she is busy getting ready. I can’t wait to see her walk down the aisle.” Shawn grins, giggling nervously as he imagines you wandering down the aisle to him, dressed in the gown he has still not managed to even get a glimpse at. 

You kept everything very traditional and refused to even show him a snippet of the dress, his Mum kept the dress hidden away at her house because there was no way you could keep it in the house you and Shawn share, no. Shawn snoops far too much at times. 

“So sweet. So, you have your album coming out soon? tell us about the details.” Shawn is asked, reminding him that he, indeed, has other priorities on his list that do not revolve around the wedding. 

His fourth album is due to release in a months time, but he has done his best to keep it very hush-hush, doing last minute touches and tweaks until he approves everything. This album has proven to be a bit of a push for him, he extended himself further than ever and has put in more hours than ever, making sure each detail of each song is flawless. 

Shawn nods, “Yes… I uh, I actually have a single dropping on my honeymoon, the missus said I could steal the thunder for one day and work one day on our honeymoon. The album remarkably challenged me lyrically and vocally. There are a few acoustic melodies that I wanted to test the waters with.” .. “I think the album is a little step further outside my usual comfort zone. It is something that strips me down further to my rawest form and I like that. Yeah… does that answer?”

“Can you give us any inside scoops? Anyone, the songs are about?” Shawn is asked the question he has been asked since he first started his career. 

Every song has some sort of personal meaning to him, whether it is family related or relationship related, old or new. There is always speculation on which song is written about you specifically. 

Shawn grins for the hundredth time, his finger beginning to twist the ring on his finger. “There is one song about someone specific, I can’t name names.” … “All I can say is that the single is what I am singing tonight. I hope my wife isn’t listening… Anyway, yeah, the single comes out next Thursday,” Shawn continues on discussing his single, doing his best not to stray away from the topic of conversation and discuss the wedding. 

“Ah, a little mystery,” The interviewer chuckles, “I quite like the subtleness, love it, man.” “I have to ask, what inspires you the most to write?" 

"Uh, good question, my answer is going to sound very typical, but I promise I am not trying to be cliche. Y/N, she inspires and pushes me a lot. The other week, I played her a song that I was not happy with… She looked at me and gave me her opinion, so I sat and pondered for a little bit on the couch, watching as she was writing out thank you cards.. I kinda stared at her for a minute, just managing to make out her handwriting and her small grin, and I just… I somehow managed to change lyrics to something I was satisfied with.”

“Has she ever been brutally honest with you?”

“Yes, she has” Shawn chuckles, “When I was sick on tour, I was really pushing my limits and she pulled me to the side and brutally told me that I needed to sit my ass down and relax because I sounded terrible. Straight out told me I sounded atrocious. She was right though, I could barely speak. She doesn’t sugar coat things when it comes to the cut.” … “I love it though, I need the ruthlessly honest words sometimes,” Shawn admits over the radio, drawing back to the question and adding how his family also inspire him and other artists.

Well, that wraps up our interview, we do not want you late for your wedding, we wish you the best of luck with the album and we hope to see all the pictures from today. Best of luck, man.“ The interviewer ends the conference, turning the mics off before saying his own personal congratulations and watching Shawn glow and smile with every mention of you and the wedding.

Feelings (Beast/Adam Imagine)

Request: Ooo!! Request!! More angsty beast x reader!!! - @salonics


Originally posted by mozarlin

Everyone thought they were a cute couple, well everyone but you. You loved Adam with all of your heart but he loved Belle.

“You should tell him.” A voice came from beside you. You turned you head to see Lefou sitting beside you. “Oh Lefou, I can’t he loves her. No matter what he will always love her.” You lay your head in your hands.

“You still need to tell him.” Lefou insists as he lays his hand on your shoulder. “No! I can’t! They love each other. I’m not going to get in the way. I’m not her and I never will be besides Belle is my best friend. I can’t ruin this for her.” You shake your head as you sit back up.

Tears form in your eyes and you wipe them away. “He has a right to know.” Lefou hands you a handkerchief. “And then what? I lose the only person that was ever there for me. Do you even know what that feels like?” You hiss at him in anger.

“Yeah I do.” Lefou looks away from you. “Oh Lefou I’m so sorry. I forgot about what happened with Gaston.” You hug him as you cry. “It’s fine. I just miss him.” LeFou hugs you back.

“I know and it was wrong for me to bring him up. I’m just really upset right now.“ You pull away with a sigh. "I can’t make you tell him but I do think you should. But it is up to you. I’ll see you later.” Lefou stands up and walks off.

You knew he was right. Your feelings will come out eventually and it will only make matters worse. But still you can’t tell him… at least not yet.

Garden Sanctuary

An Elriel from the Kiss prompt #11, when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more, for @couldilienexttoyou (for some reason it’s not letting me tag you).  Occurs after the events of Emerging from the Shadows


Elain was fretting.  There was really no other word for it.  Azriel had been gone on assignment for days.  Days for her to relive the breathless kisses and shared confessions in the garden.  Days for her to think about how his tongue had tasted, the gentle scraping of his callouses against her skin.  Days for that ache in her lower abdomen to grow, for her to admit to herself that she wanted him, that nobody, not even Graysen, had sparked this feeling, this need, inside her quite like he did.  The problem was, he was due back today and she didn’t know what to do now.

Contrary to what everyone thought, she wasn’t totally innocent.  Nesta had done her best to keep her sheltered, but she had been engaged, after all.  It wasn’t just her heart she had given to Graysen all those months ago.  He had been sweet, and gentle, and clumsy and overwhelmed.  She had never told anybody about it; Nesta would have raged, and less than a week had passed before Hybern’s soldiers had come and everything had gone to hell.  But now, she was finally climbing out of that black hell.  Finally starting to think about what she might want from this new life.  And Azriel…with that beautiful, loyal, fiercely passionate heart…He thought he hid it behind that perfect mask, but she could see how he loved.  Loved his High Lord and High Lady, loved his freedom and his friends.  Loved justice.  Loved her.  He needed someone who could see his heart as much as she did.  She just couldn’t figure out how to tell him what she knew, what she wanted.

Elain returned her focus to the task at hand, cleaning up the severely neglected small walled private garden Rhys’s mother had apparently built next to the river centuries ago. Amazingly, the ancient rosebushes, though severely overgrown, were still thriving along the back wall.  Nearly everything else needed to be dug out and replaced, but Rhys had given her carte blanche to do whatever she saw fit.  She could already picture the bushes that would flower in early spring in that corner, smell the Sweet William and the peonies…Next year, this garden would be a riot of color and scent, but for now it was just a blank canvas.  What Feyre created with paint and brushes, she sought to achieve with dirt and plants.  

Finishing one bed, she groaned to her feet.  This was heavy work, but as she stretched out her back she surveyed the perfectly prepped soil and the large discarded pile of invasive plants with satisfaction.  Three beds done, four to go, plus the slow process of pruning back those roses.  Rhys had offered to prep the soil by magic as he had done for the large public gardens, but she had preferred to do it herself the hard way.  She wanted this one to be absolutely perfect.  Magic might be faster, but she needed to get her hands in the soil to know exactly what it needed, what might grow best in it.  Though she was finally among people who might not think her crazy if she said the earth spoke to her, she had settled for telling him that she wanted to do this particular garden alone.  He had gone still at that, and she didn’t think she imagined the hoarseness in his voice as he thanked her.  

She felt Azriel a moment before he landed next to her, his shadows withdrawing as he tucked in his wings.  Her heart leaped into her throat, but she managed to sound almost normal as she greeted him.  He dipped his chin in a polite nod in reply.  They hadn’t spoken since that afternoon in the kitchen garden, and Elain wished she could somehow erase the slight newfound awkwardness between them.  His eyes fixed on the roses climbing in a wild tangle up the back wall and his breath seemed to catch.  “Can they be salvaged?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she replied.  “It will take a while to do it without risking the plants, but I should be able to.”

His mouth tightened and those beautiful hazel eyes were tear-bright.  She had forgotten that Rhys’s mother had taken in Azriel and Cassian as if they were her own.  That in a very real way she had been the only mother they had ever known.  Without thinking, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed.  He glanced down at her and tried to smile.  “I haven’t been here in a long time.  She feels so…close here.  She loved those roses, loved all flowers I think.”  He trailed off, lost in the memory for a long moment, before squeezing her hand in return.  

Elain tried to think of what she could do for him, for all of them.  “Do you think you remember what flowers she grew here?”

He shook his head.  “I never learned their names.  I wish I had.”

“If…if I showed you pictures?”

He looked at her then, his expression unreadable, but she could feel the emotion rolling off of him.  “What are you planning?”

She shrugged and looked away.  “Well, I don’t know if the conditions will be right or even if the same varieties of plants still exist, but I might be able to re-create it, or at least something close.”  Looking back at him, she was alarmed to see tear tracks down his perfect face.  “Unless you think that’s not a good idea.”

His voice trembled as he said, “I can’t think of a better tribute.”  She reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the moisture on her fingers, then gave a bit of a watery laugh as she realized she had smeared mud across his face.  Taking out a handkerchief, she gently cleaned it off, never taking her eyes from his.  He grasped her hand as she lowered it and pressed it to his chest, and she could feel that mighty heart beating through his leathers.  

Elain cleared her throat delicately.  “I have books in my room with some good pictures, if you want to take a look.”  Without another word he wrapped his other arm around her waist and winnowed them into the townhouse.  She called out to let anyone there know she was home, but there was no answer.  Azriel followed her silently up the stairs and to her room, where she crouched and began digging through the stacks of horticulture books that sat next to her bed.  Pulling a couple of volumes free, she turned to see him standing awkwardly a few feet behind her, glancing sideways at her bed.  Smothering a smile, she gestured for him to sit on the bed and then sat next to him, opening the first book on her lap.  

They spent at least an hour going through illustrations, Azriel pointing out flowers that looked familiar while Elain took notes.  His memory was remarkably detailed, and by the time they were through, she had a fair list that she thought would do well in that beautiful secluded spot.  She sketched out an outline of her plan for him.  “It’s important that they not all flower at the same time,” she explained, lovingly stroking a beautiful color plate in one of the books, “and that not just the colors blend well but the scents too.  I don’t have enough to do the whole garden here, but I can fill in with some complementary plants and it will feel right, and that’s really what matters.”  She paused, still looking at the book and papers in her lap, but acutely aware of the warmth of the warrior next to her, of the fact that they were in her room, on her bed, and the irony of just sitting here talking about flowers.  “Thank you,” she said quietly, “for helping me.”

She dared a glance at him then, and his hazel eyes were soft, and warm, and there was no end to their depths.  Her gaze flicked to his full lips, slightly parted now and so, so close to her, and then back to his eyes.  There was a hunger in those eyes, she realized, that matched her own.  She didn’t know if she was the one who leaned in or he was, but suddenly those lips were on hers and she was opening her mouth for him, encouraging that clever tongue to play with her own.  His fingers wrapped in her hair and she slid her hand against his cheek, feeling the soft shell of his ear against her finger tips.  Heat was stirring deep within her, and a hollow need.  Not breaking the kiss, she shifted so she was straddling him, her thighs pressing his, her knees against his hips.  She could feel the evidence of his response pushing against her, and a soft moan escaped her.  He pulled back immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he almost stammered, “are you sure you -”

She silenced him with a kiss, swallowing his protest as her hands slid down his body and slipped under the bottom of his shirt.  She needed to feel skin under her fingertips.  He gave a sharp intake of breath at her touch, and she could feel him start to withdraw, could almost hear that voice in his head telling him to stop.  “Elain,” he whispered as he shifted his lips to her jaw, kissing his way to her neck before pausing and resting his forehead against hers, his strong lean hands pressing against her shoulder blades.  She ran her nails lightly over the corded muscles of his back, and he shivered.    

“I’m okay,” she whispered back, “I want to keep going.”

Something almost like grief surged through him, she could feel it in the muscles under her hands and she didn’t understand it.  He gently pulled her hair to the side and kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder.  “I think we should stop,” he murmured against her skin.  He must have felt her forming a protest, because he pulled away and looked her in the eye, cupping her face in those beautifully scarred hands.  “I have a history,” he said slowly, barely loud enough for her to hear him, “of rushing into bed with people.  I - I use it to protect myself, to keep from forming a connection.  I don’t want to make that mistake with you.”  His thumb brushed lightly over her lips.  “I want to savor every second.  I don’t want us - either of us - to have any regrets.”

“I could never regret anything with you,” she replied, and she let him pull her tightly to his chest and rest his cheek on her head.  She could feel his heart beating against her breast, her own heart’s rhythm adjusting to synchronize with it.  Slowly, the heat of desire drained from her, and a different type of warmth seeped through her. There was a quiet joy and comfort in just being held like this, a steadiness that maybe Azriel had been seeking but never yet found.  Perhaps he needed not to be swept away in passion, but to find an anchor who was grounded in the earth.  So she let him hold her, let him tie himself to her, as the room darkened around them, not from his shadows but from the rhythm of the sun.

A Forfeit Is A Forfeit

“How?!” Zoe gapes over at Alfie, surprise etched across her face as Joe and Y/N high five.

“I have no idea,” Alfie laughs, shaking his head. “I’m as surprised as you are.”

“This isn’t fair! You cheated!” Zoe points at her brother, who stares back at her, mouth open.

“What! No we didn’t! We just know each other better!”

“You gave her the answers before we started, didn’t you?”

“You know I don’t cheat at these things, Zoe.” Joe chuckles, “Clearly you and Alfie just don’t know each other that well.”

“Oi!” Alfie protests, “I know your sister very well. We bloody live together!”

“Then explain how Joe and I won.” Y/N questions, smiling innocently at him.

“This isn’t fair.” Zoe repeats, crossing her arms.

“You’re just upset because of the forfeit.” Y/N teases, poking the other woman in the side.

“I don’t want water balloons thrown at me!” Zoe whines, turning to look at Joe, a pleading look on her face, “Please don’t make me.”

“Sorry, sis.” He shrugs, “A forfeit is a forfeit.”

“You are the worst brother in the world.” She mumbles as Joe turns to look back at the camera.

“Well, there you have it. Zalfie vs Y/S/N, and Y/S/N wins. Which means its time for the forfeit! This should be fun,” He rubs his hands together, and evil little smirk on his face.

“Leave a comment saying who you thought would win,” Y/N adds, “Because I’ll admit, I thought Zalfie would win.”

“Do you not have any faith in us, love?” Joe looks over at her, “I knew we would win.”

“No you didn’t,” She scoffs, “You told me this morning that your sister was sure to win.”

“Really?” Alfie laughs, “Way to believe in your relationship, mate.”

“It’s not that!” Joe cries out as the other three stand, “You and Zoe have just been together longer.”

“Not bloody long enough, apparently.” Zoe mutters to herself, grimacing as Y/N grabs a bucket of water balloons. “I really don’t want to do this.”

“Too bad.” Joe tells her, repositioning the camera to see outside. “You lost. We won. Time to get pelted with water balloons.”

“All electronics get left inside, by the way.” Y/N reminds them, placing her own phone on the table.

“Let’s just do this.” Zoe leads the way outside.


“Ready?” Joe asks a minute later, water balloons in his hands, Y/N standing beside him, her own balloons in her hands.

“As we’ll ever be.” Alfie tells them, chuckling as Zoe covers her face.

She lets out a scream as the first balloon breaks against her stomach, gasping at the coldness.

Laughing, Y/N and Joe continue to throw a few balloons, until one doesn’t pop, but lands at Alfie’s feet.

“Free for all!” He calls, bending down to pick it up quickly, throwing it at Y/N has he makes a run for the bucket of balloons.

It doesn’t take long before all four are throwing balloons everywhere, and Alfie gets his hands on the hose, spraying the other three.

“Cheater!” Y/N calls out, trying to hide behind Joe as Alfie continues to spray them.

“Fair game!” He calls back.

“Alright, alright!” Joe hollers, holding his hands up, blinking at the water droplets falling in his eyes as Alfie turns the house off. “We’re all soaked, I think it’s time to call a truce.”

“Truce is good.” Zoe shivers slightly, “Because its bloody freezing out here.”

“Agreed,” Y/N nods, wrapping her arms around Joe in an attempt to warm up, “Perhaps we shouldn’t have done this in February.”

“It was still fun,” Joe smirks, rubbing his hands and up down her bare arms.

“There’s towels by the back door.” Zoe tells them all, pulling the wet shirt from against her stomach.

“You can just clean up the water!” Joe tells her, making his way inside quickly.

“Wait, Joe!” Zoe chases after him, “Stop getting water everywhere!”

“Those Suggs,” Alfie shakes his head, following Y/N inside, both staying by the back door to dry off.

“They’re crazy.” She tells him, smiling as they listen to the siblings call back and forth.

“But they’re our crazies.”

-love and hate are of the same kind

request: can you write a jughead x fem!reader where she’s from out of state for the summer visiting archie (maybe they’re cousins or something) and archie introduces her to jug, and she ends up telling him these stories about her home and whatnot so she’s just waving her hands around and there’s like pure happiness on her face and it just makes jug smile and when she leaves later in the summer they both get sad and she says “thanks for a great summer, jughead,” and it’s bittersweet? thanks, i love you!!!

a/n: I love you too!! and I also kind of changed this a little. I just didn’t realise it, my fingers kept typing whatever they wanted to. 

pairing: jughead jones x reader 

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Not Your Ordinary White Day


Pairing: Nalu

Rating: K

Genre: Romance and fluff 

Prompts: White Day + A girl worth fighting for

Summary: It was a wedding day that ended up being quite different than how Natsu had expected it would go. Thankfully, the way it had was way better. 

Notes: Tagging @nalufever, @ff-darkshininglight, @rizzy09, @msmanga14 and @x-benihime! Happy belated White Day you guys! I hope this isn’t too bad. ^^;

He adjusted his bow for the millionth time, cursing this need for “propriety”. It may have been a special day and all, but damn was this tux uncomfortable. 

She thinks you look good in them, though,’ he reminded himself, begrudgingly.

He brought his hands up, nearly ruffling his hair - an old habit whenever he found himself even remotely uncomfortable - before he remembered that even his hair had been gelled and set in place. 

He looked back at his reflection in the mirror and saw his vibrant, spiky untamable hair. Tamed. 

With a sigh, he chose instead to adjust his too-tight collar, suddenly deeply missing the scarf that was usually there in its place, currently tucked inside his shirt. 

He was uncomfortable, and not just because of what he was wearing. He hadn’t told anyone, but this was a day he wasn’t really looking forward to. He hadn’t since the date had been decided. 

Heck, even before then.

He could see it. The decorated chapel, full of their friends and family, all brimming with joy for the couple, little flower girl Wendy, Makarov the semi-drunk Minister, the music, the food… 

Oh and Lucy. Joyful, grinning, in all-white and just beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. Even more so that usual. 

The thought created a powerful pang in his chest, one that nearly had him gasping. 

His thoughts were a mess, full of fear and doubt and a smidgen of hope, and it was smothering him. They had been doing so for days now and it only seemed to rise in a crushing crescendo now that they were at the day of the wedding.
It got to a point where he allowed his hands to ruffle his hair, a growl leaving him as he did. 

He was supposed to be happy. This was supposed to be their happy day. 

Then why was he feeling like this?

‘The answer is obvious, idiot,’ he told himself. ‘Now will you do something about it or not?’

Steeling his resolve, he looked up into his reflection and nodded to himself. He was going to do this. 

Next thing you know, he was running down the hall towards the bride’s rooms. 


“Lucy!” he exclaimed, barging into her room. Or, at least what he thought was her room, he couldn’t see her through the many women currently occupying it, all of whom were currently staring at him. 

“Natsu?” Erza gasped. “What’re you - ”

“I really need to speak with Lucy,” he urged loudly, drowning the part of him begging him to stop, that this was somehow a bad idea. 

“But Natsu, I - ”

“Let him, Erza.”

Her voice taking his side was everything he needed to hear.

Erza nodded, ushering the all the other women out of the room. Natsu watched as they left, revealing her seated before a huge dressing table. The reflection the giant mirror displayed blew every thought he was having straight out of his head. 

She. Was. Gorgeous. 

No, more than that. She was a vision. Her white dress hugged her perfectly, and with her hair pulled up in a wonderfully messy bun, her shoulders and slender neck were on show, decorated only with intricate lace.  

But more than any of that, it was the sight of her eyes, her smile - she was practically glowing with joy, and Natsu nearly gave up then and there. 

“Isn’t it inauspicious for you to be here, though?” she asked, reminding him what he had come for. 

“I think that rule applies to the groom, not the groomsmen,” he replied, still quite unable to take his eyes off her. 

He wondered if he imagined the way her back stiffened. 

Keep reading

A Hero in Black (Part Two)

Jughead x Reader

Part One Here

Request: Could you write something about the reader being missing and jughead being really worried. And when he finds the reader they have a really romantic moment and he saves her. But not the typical kind of romance. A jughead kind of romance.

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2,458

A/N: Okay so I just had like a great writing epiphany and if you’ve read the first part before I updated it, just imagine that the song Jughead found was named “A Hero in Black” instead of “The Boy Next Door.” okay? Okay. cool. I hope I did the second part of the prompt justice!


It took her disappearing for him to realize, but he likes her, and he needs to tell her. He may be overreacting, but a part of him doesn’t care. Wherever she is, he needs to get to her, in a cheesy-romantic kind of way that kind of makes him want to vomit, but pulls on his heart like nothing else ever has.

And so, he sets off down the road, not knowing where it’ll take him.

He walks for about an hour, sticking to the tire tracks that are impressed in the grass. He debates on turning back once or twice, afraid he might be wrong. He’s never been this far out of town, so he has no idea where the tracks are leading him.

He holds her notebook close to his chest, her backpack slung over his shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to leave it in the road.

Soon, a small abandoned-looking house, made out of old rotting wood and bricks for a chimney, comes into view. The house is set aside in a grove of tall trees, the newly growing leaves almost hiding it from view. If it weren’t for the tire tracks, no one would ever know it’s here.

The tracks come to a stop at the side of the little house, no vehicle in sight.

He sets the backpack down in front of the steps leading up to the front door, carefully walking up the steps which creak with even the smallest amount of weight on them.

He reaches the door, tentatively knocking.

There’s no answer, so he tries the door knob. One twist later and the door slowly opens, revealing a dark room inside.

There’s a chimney on the left, made out of the old red brick he had seen outside. There’s no fire going now, but the logs look as though they’ve recently been burned, a pot resting above it, probably containing some type of stew. A small chair sits opposite the fire. The only other furniture is a table on the far side of the room near a small window, which is the only source of light.

There are two doors on the right side of the room.

“Hello? I’m so sorry to intrude…” he starts, finally taking a step inside the house, “is anyone home?”

There’s no answer. It’s so silent he begins to become aware of his own breathing.

“I just want to talk.” he becomes nervous, now right in front of the first door, “has a girl passed through here?” he continues.

He’s pretty sure he’s talking to no one, but he needs to check just to be totally positive. He reaches for the doorknob on the first door and attempts to turn it, but it stalls. It’s locked. He figures it’s a storage closet, or maybe the master bedroom. He isn’t all that sure he wants to find out.

He goes to the second door, taking slow steps as to not make too much noise. The house feels like it’s about to fall apart around him.

He hears a rumbling in the distance, the distinct sound of a car engine getting closer and closer.

“Shit.” he says under his breath. There is nothing for him to hide behind, nothing for him to defend himself with. He remembers he left the backpack out front, and he’s nearly positive whoever is coming back will notice it’s there. He curses at himself silently again for not hiding it better when he saw how sketchy it was.

He is thinking quick, going for the only door that may provide some time for him to escape.

He tries the doorknob to the second door, and it opens, revealing a small bedroom with a toilet and sink built into the wall. It looks almost like a prison room, with no light except for a small window that’s out of reach that looks like it would barely fit a head through.

He can just make out a figure in the corner, cowering in fear. It’s a girl, her hair pulled over her face and her head in her knees.

“Hey..” he says, a soothing tone coming out he didn’t know he could do.

The girl doesn’t look up.

“I’m Jughead.” he introduces himself.

The girls eyes meet his.

“Jug?” she asks, moving to stand to her feet. Her hair is in tangles, but her clothes only look well worn. There’s no sign of distress other than in her face.

“(Y/N)?” he rushes over to her, enveloping her in a hug.

They pull away a moment later, shocked and surprised to see one another. She was almost at the point of giving up, unable to understand what the man who had taken her wanted.

Her hands go up to cup his face, tears welling up.

He gently pushes a strand of hair out of her face, holding the back of her head, closing the space between them.

Her breath hitches, the air between them filled with electricity.

He lifts her head to his, finally bringing their lips together in a kiss.

It was a kiss filled with unspoken words and feelings they had both been hiding. It’s unbelievable to both of them that it took this event for them to come to their senses.

She sighs into him, feeling the weight that had been on her shoulders for the past few days lift away.

“You missed our jam session, (Y/N).” he mocks, a smile on his face as he pulls away, but keeping their foreheads together.  

“I’ve been kinda busy.” she can’t help but chuckle, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck, playing with the hair that’s stuck out the bottom of his beanie.

“What are you doing here? What the hell happened?” he whispers, hearing the car engine shut off outside the house.

She pulls back from him slightly, still holding his arms with her hands at the elbows and he does the same. Her mind races on where to start, the only thing she can think right now is about how her best friend was here, that Jughead has kissed her.

“This man, he took me. He put me in here. He only comes to give me food.” she explains quickly, “He always has a mask on. Yesterday he started asking me questions, about Jason…”

“Why haven’t you tried to escape?” he whispers, the door to the car opening and slamming shut. They would be inside any minute.

“He threatened my parents, the threatened Archie and Betty…” she whispers back, looking at the floor, trying to remember everything. He gives her a confused look, as if to say ‘so what?’ She looks back up at him, tightening her grip, “He threatened you, Jug.”

The steps creak and the cabin door opens. She quickly ushers him under the small bed frame, his long limbs cramped in the small space. He goes along with it only to see if he can recognize who it might be and ultimately save (Y/N).

“You’re lucky I like you.” he says as she pulls the cover over the edge, hiding him from sight of the door.

She has no idea what the man will do, what he will say today.

She can hear the man walking towards his room, unlocking the door and walking inside. She holds her breath. He normally goes in there before either coming in her room drunk or falling asleep. She’s only been there a few days, but she already knows to be quiet while she waits for him to visit her.

Today he heads for her door, swinging it open.

She shrinks back from his tall figure, face mask on just like the days before. The stench of alcohol is all over him now, a bottle in his hand.

He takes a swig, “Are you gonna tell me what you know today?”

“I don’t know anything, I told you that.” she says, what she’s been saying ever since she got here.

“Remember when I said it would get worse the longer you didn’t tell me?” his deep voice is gruff, his words slurring. He is insane.

Jughead seethes under the covers, but stays put. He knows the man needs to go away for them to escape, and it seems like (Y/N) knows what she’s doing.

There’s a crash of glass, the man slamming the nearly empty bottle against the wall, shattering it to pieces.

He grabs a hold of her shoulders, causing her to shriek from panic, immediately beginning to try to squirm away.

“Let go of me.” she says sternly, not wanting to yell to make it worse. This is the first time he has grabbed her physically, and she didn’t want it to go any further. She wasn’t going to let herself become a statistic, wasn’t going to let herself be bullied by some unknown kidnapper.

“Tell me what you know and you can leave!” he yells, so close she can smell the alcohol on his breath, all over his clothing, the scent overpowering her system.

“I don’t know anything, let me go.” she says, her voice escalating as her arms try to get out of his grip.

Jughead watches silently from under the bed, ready for anything. The man releases her. He thinks that maybe he’s going to listen, he’s going to let her go.

Instead, the man raises a hand to her. It seems to happen in slow motion. His arm starts to come down as hers come up, bracing for the pain and blocking her face as she closes her eyes.

Jughead knows he had to act fast. Unseen, he slid out of the cover and stood as (Y/N) raised her hands and closed her eyes.

His hand forms a fist, and before he can think through what he does, he punches the man in the face, sending him to the ground.

The pain she expects doesn’t come, a grunt instead coming from her attacker.

She opens her eyes to see Jughead standing over him, his shoulders tense, fire in his eyes.

“Did you just-?” she begins, cut off by Jughead taking her hand and rushing out the door.

“Let’s go.” he says, urgency in his tone and movements.

She doesn’t want to admit it, not even really knowing what her and Jughead are, and the moment not really being the right time, but she couldn’t deny that what he just did was hot

She exhales as they walk through the main room, letting him lead her. It seems like he has a plan, so she’s going to follow.

He notices the keys to the van on the table in the main room, quickly grabbing them before leading her out the door.

They fly out of the rotting house, down the steps.

“Get in the van.” he says, scooping up the backpack and pressing the unlock button on the keys. He thinks the van is the safest place, a protective shield in the midst of the battle. Even if the man comes out, they can drive away, he won’t be able to get to them.

She opens the door and gets in the passenger seat up front, pulling her sleeves up over her hands.

Jughead gets in, throwing the bag down beside him and starting the van just in case. He hands her his phone, “Call the cops, tell them to trace the phone address.” he says, looking out to make sure the man doesn’t come out after them.

She just stares at the phone, not really sure how to process everything that just happened.

“(Y/N) we have to get out of here, call them and tell them-” she cuts him off with a kiss. Her hand going to the back of his neck, putting all of her emotions into this moment. It was passionate, lasting for more than a few seconds.

“Thank you.” is all she can say, catching her breath, the van transforming for her in that moment from something terrible into somewhere safe, now that Jug is there. She pulls away and dials 911, trying to explain everything to the operator.

His world blurs, her voice fading out. He never thought he would feel this way about anyone. The way she smiles, the way she laughs, he can see it clear as day. He never wants any pain to come to her again, this experience probably being one that will haunt her for a long time. She’s a strong girl, he knows that, but even something like this could come back to haunt her. He wants to be there for her through the pain, he wants to help her heal.

He looks up as he hears the dial of the tone for hanging up, the phone going black. She sets it on the space between them.

“They said they’re on their way.” she says, her voice quiet. Her hands are on her knees now, tension suddenly building as she runs them over her legs as if she’s wiping something off.

He looks towards the door of the house, There’s been no sign of the man coming out of the house, and they both know that the windows are too small for him to climb out of, so he would be coming out of the front door. Jughead really knocked him out cold.

He takes one of her hands, holding it steady.

Her head is down, hair falling over her face. The touch makes her look up, tears finally beginning to form in her eyes.

“Hey, hey…” he says, cupping her chin and bringing her eyes to meet his, “maybe next wednesday I can play ‘You Are My Sunshine’.” he says with a small smile, trying to get her to do the same.

Police Sirens echo in the distance, getting closer.

“Only if it’s a duet.” she says in response, the tears dripping for her eyes, but her small laugh and smile contrasting the emotion she wears on her face.

“Of course.” he says softly, pulling her as close as they can be in the front two seats of the car.

He holds her, the sirens almost on top of them now. There were only a few more minutes before they would be bombarded by questions from the police.

She isn’t focused on the sirens, only him. Something’s changed between them. An unspoken realization that now they will be inseparable, a pair, a duo.

She felt like a princess, almost, in the most sappy and cheesy kind of way.

“My knight in shining armor …” she says quietly, knowing he will hear.

“Don’t you mean a hero in black?” he raises his eyebrows.

He pecks her lips one last time, the police finally arriving and knocking on the van window.  



A Hero in Black Taglist: @jugheadpotter

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