it didn't turn out exactly as planned but you get the idea

anonymous asked:

Please link some nice Ziam fics ♡. Thank you!

here you go my love, some cute ones i’ve read lately :) remember to read the tags before reading just in case, and don’t forget to leave kudos and comments!!! enjoy!!!!!

Heart of Stone, Life of Fire by SoftlyandSwiftly | WIP |  Words: 63.4k+ | Chapters: 6/?

A war with the city of Banshia and its conquering King threatens all of the Cities on the continent of Kiza. Young Zayn Malik finds himself hopelessly entangled in the web of the war, his future rewritten in the span of a morning as allies and enemies shift. Traded for the promise of an ally, Zayn finds himself among the warrior tribes of the Nakizi people, where he must carve out his own place and take his fate into his own hands.  // 

When Pigs Fly by foxandbee |  Words: 6.2k+

Puppy-Boy seems slightly dazed when he drags his eyes back up from Zayn’s lips, a distinctly rosy flush dusting his cheeks, and Zayn worries that maybe he’s suffering from lack of oxygen. And wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was his week? Zayn can see the headlines now, Misanthropic Student kills innocent Puppy-Human in broad daylight over Wonton Soup.

Zayn is tired and he never smiles and then he finds what he didn’t know he was looking for right when he least expects it. // 

Wisdom Teeth by Bippityboppityboobear |  Words: 3.8k

Liam gets his wisdom teeth pulled and while loopy from the drugs says some interesting things about his best friend, Zayn. // 

say it out loud by ieatravioli | Words: 25.1k+

Liam has a younger sister who is deaf and he meets Zayn; an alumni from his sister’s school. Zayn has just found out that he’s qualified to receive a Cochlear implant and decides to go through with the procedure. //

Can’t Help Falling in Love with You by eternallyunleashed | WIP |  Words: 100.1k+ | Chapters: 7/?

In the 18 years he’s been alive Zayn has learnt to deal with the insane amounts of anxiety and stress that life threw his way. It was always easy to stay back and pretend he was invisible. After agreeing to Harry’s idea of an internship he realizes all his hopes of maintaining a quiet simple life as he works towards Med-school get tossed out the window. Liam Payne enters his life. Zayn can’t put a name to all the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to rip his body apart by just being near Liam, but he is certain of one thing. The mere thought or sight of Liam makes him lose the ability to breathe.

For Liam his goal is pretty simple. Ever since he laid eyes on Zayn, who looks like sin in human form with eyes that threaten to rip a man’s heart out, he knew he had to have the boy. He needs him more than he’s wanted anything in his entire life. Otherwise his red hot desire for the boy might just take him to his death. // 

Nothin Lasts Forever When You Travel Time by goddess_julie | Words: 10.1k+

“I’m too tired for this Zee. Some of us work hard…” Liam stops and wipes his forehead angrily. “I just wanted to come home, have some dinner and go to bed. Not come home and take care of shit you should have already taken care of. I don’t want to deal with this tonight.”

“Then you shouldn’t have fucking started something,” Zayn says, finally raising his voice. “You’ve been tired and stressed for weeks now Liam. And you’ve been taking it out on me. It’s not fair.”

Liam throws the sponge he’s been cleaning with across the room. It hits the wall with a splat and falls to the floor. “Fine. I’m a monster. Fine, I’m an asshole. Maybe you should just find somewhere else to be tonight Zee. Maybe you should leave.”

Or. Liam and Zayn fight. Layla puts herself in the middle and makes a choice no one saw coming. This is the biggest fight they’ve had in the four years they’ve been together. //

Young Gods by abovetheserpentine | Words: 30.5k+

This is Liam’s first Grand Slam. He’s eighteen, he’s a wildcard, and he has a thirst to prove himself even if he can’t quite believe he’s in Australia. Backed by world famous coach Louis Tomlinson, Liam feels like his chances are pretty good.

Then he remembers that twenty-two year old Zayn Malik is back from injury to be a part of the tournament. Suddenly, Liam’s odds don’t seem so good anymore. //

a perpetual feeling by aubadezayn | Words: 5.5k+

“soulmate au where people have half a tattoo and when you meet your soulmate it’s completed”

zayn’s worried his soulmark tattoo might never have a second half, but everything works out perfectly when he decides to go on the X Factor for the experience. //

I can’t help but loving you by becharlatan | Words: 25k+

“I have a better plan,” Zayn says, looking at Liam even if there’s a cloth blocking his sight. “If I find you in less than a minute, you’re going to marry me. And I’ll take care of you. Forever.”  //

through the fire and into the flames by zipplekink | Words: 111k | Chapters: 13

“I can’t,” Liam shutters out, eyes falling to where he hovers his hand between them. Zayn gasps slightly, latching his eyes onto the flames that lick up and down Liam’s fingers. “What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Zayn assures him.

[Or the one where Liam can manipulate and Zayn can turn invisible, and they are both trying to figure out how to control their powers and their feelings. Featuring Telekinetic Niall, Harry talking to bunny rabbits and oak trees, telepathic Ned and weather controlling Griff.] //

we’re slow dancing in a burning room by englandziam | Words: 3.4k+

He can’t stop thinking of Liam, of a soft smile and crinkly eyes. Calloused fingers threading through Zayn’s as they kiss, because it’s their three year anniversary —at least it should be, if they hadn’t of broken up three months ago. //

Starving by happily_missy | Words: 5.7k+ | Chapters: 2

Liam spots Zayn at a club and their connection is immediate.

The title is from the song Starving by Hailee Steinfield //

I Can Be What You’re Craving by Stylinsonvodka | Words: 3.1k+

The one where Liam has pink hair and a ring through his nose and Zayn isn’t allowed to see him, exactly. //

Over Five Months by ZaynCentric | Words: 2.6k+

au fic where liam is the popstar and zayn is his uni boyfriend who likes to embarras him when he comes off tour by waiting with all the other fangirls with homemade signs //

say yeah (yeah!) let’s be alone together by pcwhy | Words: 5.8k+

Liam may or may not be obsessed with the singer he keeps running into without even asking for it  //

It’s You by happily_missy | WIP | Words: 32.2k+ | Chapters: 5/?

Liam is a PA for a famous fashion designer and Zayn is their gorgeous new model.

or the one where Liam is in control of everything except for the fact that he keeps getting hard around Zayn and Zayn refuses to admit that yes he wants Liam to push him up against a wall.

Of Books and Dirty Cash pt4


Yoongi x Reader

Before you moved to live on campus for college, you had never heard of a librarian who had a reputation for yelling. But not only does Min Yoongi yell, he’s also dangerous, and part of something much, much darker. When curiosity gets the better of you, you end up involved in much more than you bargained for.

Please read part 1part 2 and part 3 first so this will makes sense! <3

You can also read part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

“Brother?” You repeated, perplexed.

“Yes, my brother Yoongi. I believe he’s your boss?” Seokjin smiled at you.

“Oh! Right, yeah. I didn’t know he had a brother.” You were still slightly taken aback by his presence.

“Yes, well, I doubt he would mention me.” He frowned slightly, and you noticed a sadness in his eyes. But as quickly as it had appeared, it was replaced by a laugh. “Where is my dear brother, by the way?”

“In the back, sleeping.” You said, then realized that Seokjin probably wanted to talk to him. “I’ll go wake him up, I’m sure he’ll want to see you.” You started to stand, but Seokjin quickly shook his head.

“No, no need. I just wanted to know where he was. As I said, I wanted to talk to you.”

Keep reading

Mon Cheri (Sebastian Smythe X Reader)

Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Sebastian Smythe X Reader
Word Count: 6,278 (I didn’t mean to make it this long I swear???)
Author’s Note: Blaine is no longer at Dalton (he’s at McKinley and a senior so I think Kurt would be in New York at this point but we’re gonna pretend that he was visiting Blaine for a little bit), Sebastian is a junior at Dalton (idk how old he is honestly oops), __y/n__ is a sophomore. I honestly dunno anything about Blaine’s parents, I just imagine that they’re like really open-minded and awesome?? Also: I believe that every person has an exception to their sexuality. Even though __y/n__ considers herself gay, she’s not against the idea of being with a guy, it’s just not something she’s ever been interested in trying (until she got to know Sebastian). Also, I think Sebastian’s bi or pan, with a tendency to have sex with guys. I know they say in the show that he’s 100% gay, but I still firmly believe that he is just more male-centric, and would be sexually attracted to a female if it was the right one. ALSO THERE ARE SOME SOULMATE! THEMES?? IT’S NOT LIKE 100% SOULMATE AU BUT THAT’S LIKE WHY THEY GET TOGETHER SO QUICKLY.

“You didn’t tell me that good looks ran in the Anderson family.” Were the first words you ever heard Sebastian Smythe say, his arm extending out a hand for you to shake.

You took it, struggling to not roll your eyes as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You said, slipping into your ‘male’ voice that you had been perfecting for the last year. It was a little deeper than your own voice, and it was slightly weird to hear it coming out of your mouth, but you felt like it helped with the whole 'pretending to be a boy’ thing.

You were Blaine’s sister, and Blaine had been trying to get the staff at Dalton to change the rules (could having a girl in the Warblers really hurt their chances at winning? Blaine didn’t think so) for years (he knew about just how badly you wanted to go to Dalton), but they always refused. Dalton Academy had been an all boys school since it was established, and that’s how it would stay.

Blaine, not one to give up, was the one who initially suggested that you dress like a boy. He thought that the rules were ignorant (a girl could really help with the Warblers’ vocal range), and he actually encouraged you to consider practicing talking and acting like a boy.

You had done as he recommended, and when you had finally approached your parents with the intention to ask your parents for the tuition money, they didn't judge you for wanting to go to the all boys school. Instead, they had laughed, said they thought it was a brilliant idea, warned you to be careful because they didn’t really want a lawsuit on their hands, and had given you the money you needed.

You, Blaine, and Kurt (he was in on the plan because he was Blaine's boyfriend and you loved him to death) had gone to the mall, bought you a binder, a new haircut, and a dozen outfits with Kurt’s seal of approval (meaning that you were going to be the best dressed cross dresser ever), and then you had applied to Dalton.

It took a bit of lying, your parents had even managed to get a copy of your birth certificate altered so that you were, legally, Eli _f/i_ Anderson, but you got in. Elizabeth was your given middle name, so you had taken the first three letters and used them as your male name.

Blaine wasn’t there anymore, but he told you that even though you couldn’t compete with the Warblers (no way anyone would be able to hear you sing and not think you were a girl), you could still trust the Warblers. Even Sebastian, who Blaine was actually pretty good friends with (much to Kurt’s distain).

Sebastian smiled, but it was more of a smirk than anything else. “The pleasure’s all mine.” He replied smoothly, and Blaine noticed with a grin that you were trying valiantly to keep the scowl off your face. You knew exactly about how he flirted shamelessly with Blaine, and with your extreme love for Kurt (seriously, if he was straight and you were straight, you would’ve snatched that boy up for yourself), you were not too fond of Sebastian. Even if he was a ridiculously good dancer and singer, his incredibly hot face meant nothing to you.

You extracted your hand from Sebastian’s, giving a real smile to the other Warblers. Them, you liked. You had watched almost every Warbler performance, but you hadn’t ever gotten to meet them before now.

“I’m a huge fan.” You said enthusiastically, and the Warblers looked at Blaine in surprise before chatting you with excitedly.

“Keep an eye on him, yeah?” Blaine requested, resting his palm on Sebastian’s shoulder.

Sebastian gave him a small smile that quickly blossomed into a smirk. “I’ll keep more than an eye on him.”

Blaine groaned and pulled his hand away from Sebastian’s shoulder, using it to smack Sebastian on the head. “Sebastian, no. Trust me, you’re not his type.”

Sebastian's green eyes flicked over to you, letting them trail over you appreciatively. You were petite, even shorter than Blaine, and you looked a little feminine, but it suited you. Your features were almost elfin and very different from Blaine’s, but he could still see a faint resemblance; in conclusion, Sebastian was immediately attracted to you.

“I’ve heard that before, and I’ve made my fair share of people change their mind.”

Blaine shook his head. “It’s not gonna work on Eli, I promise.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Anderson.” Sebastian said, and Blaine did not like the glint in Sebastian’s eyes.

“Sebastian,” Blaine started to warn him, but Sebastian waved his warning away and walked over to where you were talking eagerly with the other Warblers. He perched himself on a chair, and Blaine watched your gaze twitch over to Sebastian for a brief moment, before turning back to your conversation with Jeff.

Blaine grinned again. You could handle yourself against Sebastian’s charm, he was sure. With a wave to you and the other Warblers, Blaine disappeared through a door and made his way to his dad’s car, where Kurt was waiting.

“How’d it go?” Kurt asked, leaning across the seat and brushing a kiss across Blaine’s lips.

“Pretty good,” Blaine responded, a quiet light shining in his eyes as he looked at Kurt. “But I think Sebastian has a crush on __y/n__.”

Kurt looked at him for a moment in complete silence. “You’re not serious?”

“Wish I was.”

“Oh my god, this is the best day of my life.” Kurt said, right before bursting into loud, bright laughter that echoed off the walls off the car. “100% gay Sebastian has a crush on your 100% gay sister. That is too good to be true.”

Blaine grinned at Kurt. “I know. How he managed to choose the one person at Dalton that is literally not interested in him at all is beyond me.”


“Sebastian, for the last time, I am not interested in you.” You muttered, sighing as you shoved your history book in your messenger bag.

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything.” He said and held his hands up in defense. “I was just going to tell you that I have a lacrosse game that you might be interested in watching.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Really? That’s it?”

Sebastian nodded. “That’s it. I promise.”

You offered him a fraction of a smile, because you still weren’t sure how you felt about him. “Okay. When is it?”

“Right after school. I’ll meet you outside of the commons so I can take you to the field?”

“Sure, that’d be great, actually. Still having trouble finding my way around this place.” You murmured, only a little sheepishly. You had been at Dalton for a little over two weeks, and so far, it was awesome. The work was harder than at your previous school, but you didn’t struggle with it too much, the food was incredible, and everyone was nice to you. There were some people that were a little too nice (like Sebastian) because they wanted to get in your pants, but you continued shutting them down and so far, it had mostly worked. It had worked on everyone but Sebastian, at least. Say what you want about the cocky, green-eyed boy, but he was extremely persistent.

Sebastian looked over your shoulder and frowned. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later.” He smirked at you before slinging his own messenger bag over his shoulder and practically sauntering out of the room. God, that boy was so easy to despise (so why couldn’t you?).

“Hey, Eli.” Trent, another Warbler said as he walked up to you, and you smiled at him.

“Trent! Good to see you, buddy.” You clapped him on the shoulder before gesturing for him to follow you to lunch. You looked at him, and noticed that he looked nervous about something. You stopped walking. “Everything okay?”

“Well, um, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Sebastian only invited you to the lacrosse game so he could…serenade you.” Trent murmured quietly, and you rolled your eyes.

“What does he not understand about me not being interested?” You said, letting out a deep sigh. “Thanks for telling me, Trent. I can handle this.” You fell silent as you walked with him through the cafeteria, grabbing a tray and loading it up with food while you tried to figure out how to approach the situation.

There had to be some way you could beat Sebastian at his own game, you just needed to find it.


When Sebastian met you outside the commons, you had to physically force a smile onto your face so you didn’t strangle him. That boy was infuriating, and knowing what he had planned didn’t actually help your ever increasing dislike for him.

“Hey, ya know, I have a ton of homework, do you mind if I skip lacrosse practice? I’ll go to the next one, promise.” You tried, because you knew that this was not going to turn out well. You were impossibly surprised to see hurt flash across Sebastian’s face for a moment before his usual smirk flickered back in place.

“If you really want to, I won’t stop you. But scout’s honor that it won’t take long.”

“You were a boy scout?” You asked in disbelief, and Sebastian grinned.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Sebastian questioned back, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Because you’re,” You gestured vaguely with your hands. “You, and you just don’t seem like the boy scout type.”

“I don’t seem like the type to do lots of things.” Sebastian countered, and you didn’t have a response to that because you didn’t quite understand what he meant. “Anyways,” Sebastian said, shrugging. “You coming or not?”

“Yeah, homework can wait.” You responded, and you could’ve sworn that a real smile flickered across his face for half a second before he was turning away from you and gesturing for you to follow him.

“Come on, we don’t have all day.”

Ah, there was the douche that you missed so much.


“This…isn’t lacrosse practice, is it?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer thanks to Trent. All the Warblers were gathered on the lacrosse field, and you figured it was good at least that they were the only people there.

Sebastian simply shook his head and led you over to a bench, helping you sit down. He then took his place at the head of the Warblers, and music started pouring out of a speaker (you had no idea how many strings he had pulled to arrange that).

Coming here unannounced, drag my nails on the tile
I just follow your scent
You can’t just follow my smile,
"Sebastian took lead vocal while the other Warblers began to sing backup, and even though you knew from previous Warbler videos that Sebastian could sing, you hadn’t expected him to pick a Fall Out Boy song (you also hadn’t expected him to sing it so well).

Your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine
They cutting me to the bone
Nothing left to leave behind
You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon,
“He continued, and even though you hated his smirky meerkat face, there was something oddly hot about being serenaded by Fall Out Boy (no girl you had been with had ever done that and-no, bad thoughts, you were not attracted to Sebastian. God damn it, you liked girls!).

You raised an eyebrow at Sebastian as he continued to sing, because he really did not seem like the serenading type. You know what, two people could play at this game.

I didn’t come for a fight but I will fight till the end
This might be your battle, might not turn out okay
You know you look so Seattle-
“That was where you cut him off.

Hello Seattle, I am a mountaineer
In the hills and highlands,
“ All of the Warblers looked confused, as far as they knew, you couldn’t sing at all, that was why you hadn’t tried out for the Warblers, and even Sebastian faltered for a moment. Then there was mischievous glint in his eye, and as some Warblers joined your side, some of them stayed with Sebastian, and it was basically a riff-off between you and Sebastian.

By the time you were done, almost twenty minutes later (god, your voice was going to sore as hell tomorrow; you didn’t usually use your 'male’ singing voice because it was hard to keep it level, but damn it Sebastian had tempted you into doing it), you were all laughing hysterically (even Sebastian, and you realized with a start that you quite liked him when he was laughing), because only at Dalton Academy (and maybe at William McKinley High School) would something like this happen.

"Why didn’t you tell us you could sing?” Jeff asked after the laughing had calmed down, and you shrugged.

“I can’t, not really.” They all looked at you incredulously.

“No, you actually can.” Sebastian interjected (why did that mean so much coming from him?), and after sharing a look with the other Warblers, Sebastian’s trademark smirk crawled onto his face. “I think you should join the Warblers.”

“What? No.”

“I second that.” Nick contributed, and Sebastian’s smirk widened.

“If there are no objections,”

“Me! I object!” You said, a little desperately because there was absolutely no way you could deepen your voice for every Warbler meeting and there was no way they’d believe you were a boy if you used your actual singing voice.

“Then the motion carries.” Sebastian continued, ignoring you. “And Eli is officially a member of the Warblers.”

The other Warblers cheered and patted you on the back before one by one they trailed off the field, until it was just you and Sebastian. This day couldn’t get any worse. Not only had Sebastian just fucking serenaded you (and you had actually loved it), now you were going to have to join the Warblers, and everyone would find out you were a girl and you would definitely get kicked out of your dream school.

“Are you okay?” You were surprised to find that Sebastian sounded worried.

Good, You thought bitterly. This is all your fault.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said, running a hand through your short hair distractedly. “I just have some homework to do, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You started to leave, your mind running through any possible way you could get out of this situation, when Sebastian’s fingers curled gently around your wrist and pulled you back around, bringing you close enough to him that your chest brushed his. You blinked up at him in surprise, but before you could respond, he pressed a finger to your lips.

“I know I might be really out of line with this, I’ve never really been in line when it comes to attractive people, though,” He said the last part mostly to himself before continuing. “But can I kiss you?”

You didn’t say anything, you were frozen and just too shocked to move, but you blinked rapidly as Sebastian’s face got closer to yours.

“If you want me to stop, tell me and I will.” Sebastian murmured, and as his lips got nearer to yours, close enough for them to brush, you finally found your voice.

“Stop, stop.” You whispered, pulling away from Sebastian as quickly as you could. “I’m sorry; you’re a great guy, sometimes, I just,” You shook your head, trying to clear it. “I’m really confused and I need to work through some things. I’ll see you around.”

You disappeared without saying else, and when you reached your dorm, you kind of wanted to curl up and cry. Your life had never, ever been this confusing before you met Sebastian. You liked girls, and only girls. Sure, you knew when a guy was attractive, but you didn’t want to actually have sex with them. And now…you didn’t know what you wanted. Sebastian was kind of an asshole, sure, but there were times when he could be nice. Like ten minutes ago, he had found out that Fall Out Boy was your favorite band and chosen one of their songs, and he had asked for permission before trying to kiss you.

The worst part was, you had wanted him to. You wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a gu- actually, no, scratch that. You just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Sebastian. But you couldn’t, in good conscience, let him kiss you when you were really a girl, and he was gay. He liked boys. You liked girls. It should be simple.

But honestly? You had never been more confused in your life.


You had finished your homework, barely, and then you had tried to go to bed. You didn’t have a roommate, which was nice, but only because, at the moment, there was an uneven number of boys at the school and your parents had requested one. As soon as someone transferred, you’d get a roommate, and your secret would definitely come out. Instead of sleeping, you had tossed and turned until two in the morning, at which point you stomped out of bed, grabbed a towel, a pair of underwear, your binder, and a long shirt, and made your way to one of the bathrooms.

Dalton Academy was quite large, so it had several rooms that were full of just showers and sinks. Every dorm room had a bathroom, but it only had a toilet, a sink, and a mirror. Every time you wanted to shower, you had to go to one of the community showers. Which was nervewracking; if someone came in just as you were getting out of the shower, they’d see that you had boobs and then everyone would know that you were a girl.

And, of fucking course, that was (almost) exactly what happened.


You shampooed your hair, trying to sort out your thoughts when you heard the door to the showers swing open. Usually, you were the only person that showered at two thirty in the morning, but apparently someone else had the same idea.

You heard clothes falling into a pile on the ground and paused in your washing. It’s not like they could see through the shower door (the glass was frosted, so all they could see would be a very faint outline of your body), but your arms crossed across your breasts regardless. After a moment of feeling foolish and waiting for the other person to get in their own shower, you uncrossed your arms and continued washing your body.

You were done after a few more minutes, but now you had to wait until the other person was gone to get out of the shower. You waited with the water running for ten more minutes, but the other person was still showering.

You huffed to yourself and turned off the shower, but you didn’t get out yet. Instead, you stood patiently in the shower for another ten minutes before you heard the other person’s shower turn off and then the sound of wet feet slapping on the tiled floor.

“Are you going to get out, ever?” You were surprised to hear Sebastian’s voice from the other side of the glass, and your eyes widened.

“Uh, no. I’m not too comfortable with my body.” You responded, making sure to lower your voice.

You could practically hear Sebastian rolling his eyes as he spoke again. “There’s nothing wrong with your body, Eli.” Sebastian chuckled, a little bitterly. “I’ve seen enough of them to know.” When you stayed silent, Sebastian spoke again. “Listen, if it’s about earlier, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He sounded a little bit shy (something you had never expected from him) when he spoke again. “I do still want to be your friend though.”

“It’s not that simple.” You murmured, twisting your hands together nervously. You couldn’t get out of the shower until he was gone; if you did, he would know that you were a girl and he would tell the school board and you would be kicked out of Dalton Academy (and he would probably hate you).

“Friends are allowed to see each other naked,” He pointed out. “If it makes you feel better, I have a towel and underwear on, and I’ll turn my back when you step out.”

You sighed. He wasn’t going to give up. It was probably better to just tell him before he opened the door himself and saw your chest. “I need to tell you something first.” You took his silence as agreement. “I’m, uh, not exactly who you think I am.”

“Please tell me you’re Eli Hawaii, because I saw that coming from a mile away.”

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to understand what he meant. “Did Sebastian Smythe just make a Hannah Montana reference?”

Sebastian chuckled, and the sound made your heart stutter. “I did.” You laughed, and you could hear the frown on his face when he spoke again. “In my defense, I do have a younger sister who used to make me watch it with her all the time.” He was silent for half a second. “And Mitchell Musso was hot.”

“Really? Mitchell Musso’s your type?”

He snorted. “Please, Mitchell Musso is everyone’s type.”

“I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you right now.” You said, shaking your head. Sebastian Smythe watched Hannah Montana, and now he was trying to defend himself for it, even though you really didn’t care. He could watch whatever he wanted, heck, you had watched it when you were younger too. Honestly, you just found the whole thing rather adorable.

“I can’t either. Are you going to come out?”

“Already have.” You said, because that was the first thing that popped into your mind.

“I thought you weren’t into guys? Excluding me, of course.” You could hear the thick layer of confusion in his voice.

“Uh, yeah. I’m not.” You said and slowly opened the door to the shower. You cautiously stepped out, keeping your arms crossed across your breasts as you snagged your __f/c__ towel and wrapped it around your body. You turned to look at Sebastian only after your body was covered, and you were surprised to see that he was just smirking at you.

“So, you’re a girl?” Sebastian asked, and you nodded. “I suppose this is the part where I have some dramatic reveal about myself and my sexuality, but really, I still like guys.” That made your heart ache for reasons you couldn’t fathom. “But I still feel the desire to kiss you, so I guess you’re an exception to that.”

You blinked at him, once, twice, then three times. “Pardon?”

“I still want to kiss you. I’m not repulsed by you, if that’s what you were expecting. You’re still Eli, and believe it or not, I didn’t just like him for his looks.”

“You liked Eli?” Your brain was having a really hard time keeping up with that Sebastian was saying.

“Since when have you been deaf?” Sebastian asked, rolling his eyes at you. “Yes. I liked Eli, and I like you.” He glanced around the shower room before gesturing to the door. “Seeing as how you’re trying to keep this a secret, we should go before someone else comes in for a midnight wash. Come on.” You barely had time to scoop your clothes into your arms before Sebastian was grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the room. He kept you behind him as much as possible as he led you to his room, but you paused outside the doorway.

“Isn’t your roommate in there?” You hissed, and Sebastian shook his head as he opened the door.

“He’s at his boyfriend’s dorm tonight, we’re fine.” Sebastian responded, and you trusted him enough to follow him inside. Sebastian took a seat on his bed, and gestured for you to do the same, but you shook your head and remained standing.

“Are you going to tell the school board about me?” You asked after a moment of silence.

He shook his head. “Of course not. Before we have this conversation you might want to put some clothes on. Not promising I can stop myself from doing something stupid if you stay like that.” As Sebastian said the last word, he gestured at your towel, which had been slipping down your chest and barely even covered your ass.

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” You had been so worried that you had forgotten about your state of undress, and you hastily turned around, pulled your underwear on, and dropped your towel. You started to tug on your binder, but Sebastian’s voice stopped you.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I already know that you have breasts.” He looked thoughtful. “As a gay man, I have to say that they’re actually quite nice.”

You hid your faint blush as you continued to put on the binder. “It’s not for you, it’s in case anyone bursts into your room.” You said, shrugging as you pulled on your shirt before turning back around to face him. “So, back to the issue at hand-”

“Is that all you’re wearing?” Sebastian interrupted, and you looked down at yourself with a frown.

“Yeah, why? Something wrong?” Everything was covered, and your legs weren’t really masculine or feminine, they were just there so you didn’t have to worry about someone seeing your legs and going “Oh, Eli’s definitely a girl!”.

“You’re still too undressed.”

“I never thought I’d hear the day those words came out of Sebastian Smythe’s mouth.” You said, teasingly, and grinned when it got a small smile from Sebastian.

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of me all you want but if someone comes in, their first reaction to you wearing just a shirt is going to be assuming that we had sex.”

You shrugged. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure that everyone already thinks that. You’re pretty hard to resist.” You pointed out, before running a hand through your hair. “Fuck you, Smythe.”

He looked at you, bewildered. “What did I do?”

You groaned. “I’m gay! I’ve known I was gay since I was five, but now I want to see what being with a guy is like and I’m so confused about everything, but you’re so different from everyone I’ve ever met and just…fuck you.” You let out in one breath and blinked in surprise when Sebastian’s arms were suddenly resting on your shoulders.

“Hey, this is confusing for me too. I’ve always been more homo-flexible than homosexual, but this, whatever’s between us, is new to me. You’re a person that I don’t just want to sleep with. I mean, yeah, I do, but I also want to kiss you and sing with you and hold hands with you and-” A frown curled the corners of his mouth down as he thought of something. “And I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s __y/n__.” You spoke quietly, your eyes searching his green ones as you tried to figure out if he was telling the truth.

The softest smile you had ever seen spread across his face, and you knew without a doubt that he was telling the truth. “I like it. It fits you better than Eli.”

You smiled. “I’d hope so.” You flicked your gaze away from him for a moment, eying the clock on his wall. You still had plenty of time before Sebastian’s roommate was supposed to come back. “Can I kiss you and we can worry about if you’re going to get me expelled later?”

Sebastian didn’t even use words to respond, he just brought a hand up to cup your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. It was a lot gentler than you thought possible for Sebastian, but you relished in it, letting your eyes slip shut as you wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him back.

The kiss would’ve gone on for longer had the door to Sebastian’s room not burst open.

You instantly pulled away from him, stepping behind him to hide yourself from whoever was entering the room.

“Hey, sorry.” Sebastian’s roommate, a brown haired boy who you thought was named Dan, said apologetically. “Just need to grab something, I’ll be out in a second.” He rummaged in his nightstand drawer before pulling out something wrapped in a sock (you had no desire to know what exactly it was), before ducking out of the room again with a sheepish smile.

“Well,” You started, hopping onto Sebastian’s bed and tucking your legs underneath you. “That was fun.”

Sebastian smiled lazily at you before crawling onto the bed beside you. He twisted an arm around you and pulled you into his arms, brushing a feather light kiss to the back of your neck.

“Never pegged you for the cuddling type.” You murmured, but you were smiling and there was no venom in the words.

He shrugged and kissed your neck again. “People change.”


People do indeed change.

That was something every single Warbler, and other Dalton students, noticed over the next couple of months. Sebastian was nicer. Well, as nice as Sebastian could get.

He would still snark at everyone, but everyone knew that he only did it in fun. He was nicer, and his singing and dancing were better than ever.

You managed to convince him to kick you out of the Warblers, something he had been reluctant to do because “__y/n__, your voice is amazing and I’m not letting you stop using it”, so you had promised him that on weekends you would go out with him and sing karaoke (if you were away from Dalton, you could use your normal voice).

Unfortunately, being with Sebastian did have some problems.

You were slipping. When you were around Sebastian, you often used your regular voice, and when you were around him and the other Warblers, there were times when you would slip into it without meaning to. Every time that you did, Sebastian would raise his eyebrows at you and kiss you to get you to stop talking, but you knew that the Warblers were starting to get suspicious.

And then it happened.


You were waiting in the practice room for Sebastian with the other Warblers when you felt your period start. You’d had periods before at Dalton, but they always started when you were in your dorm or Sebastian’s, so it was easy to grab a pad.

You felt a dull, deep ache in your lower stomach, wrapping your arms around your midsection to try and ease the pain. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t work.

“You okay, Eli?” Jeff asked, resting a palm on your shoulder as he looked at you with worried eyes.

You gave him a pained smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a stomach ache.” You assured, but you knew by the look on his face that he didn’t believe you.

The blonde haired boy opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Sebastian swept into the room, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him instantly. He certainly knew how to command a room.

“You guys ready to start?” Sebastian asked, before his eyes landed on you. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled and stood up, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “Wanted to say hi to you before Warblers practice started.” You said, shrugging.

His arms wound around your waist as he smiled back at you. “Hi.”

You chuckled, brushing a kiss to his jaw before pulling out of the embrace. “I should let you get started, but I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

“Of course.” He responded easily, and you offered him and the other Warblers one more smile before grabbing your bag and leaving the practice room.

Jeff turned troubled eyes to Sebastian. “Is he okay?”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He had a stomach ache, I just wasn’t sure if he was sick or something.” Jeff said, and the Warblers all noticed the concerned look that sparked in his eyes.

“Do you guys mind if I go check on him?” Sebastian asked instead of responding, and the second they shook their heads, Sebastian had already moved towards the door.


“What are you doing here?” You questioned in confusion as a pair of firm arms wrapped themselves around your stomach. “I thought you had Warbler practice.”

“I do, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. That time of the month, huh?”

You groaned as you nodded. “Yeah. Periods suck. Be thankful you’re a boy, Smythe.”

Sebastian’s arms disappeared from around your waist, and you turned to look at him, already missing the feel of his arms on you. Your eyes brightened as you saw the chocolate bar he was pulling out from his pocket.

“Oh my god, I think I love you.” You said without thinking, grinning at him as he handed you the brown, plastic package.

You both froze. You gripped the chocolate bar tightly as you waited for him to say something, and when he still remained silent, you cautiously brought your gaze to his. 

Sebastian was smiling, and there was a light in his eyes that you hadn’t ever seen before. “You’re the first person that’s ever said that to me.”

“What? Really? But you’re-” You gestured vaguely at him with your hands. “You, and you’re incredible and thoughtful and a lot sweeter than I thought possible since when I met you, I thought you were a sarcastic asshole but-” Sebastian cut you off with a kiss, his hands flying up to cup your cheeks as he kissed you gently.

“I think I love you too.” He murmured against your lips, stroking a thumb gently across your cheekbone.

You heard someone gasp, and both your and Sebastian’s eyes snapped to the doorway of your room. Nick, Jeff, Trent, Thad, and all the other Warblers were gathered there, looking at you and Sebastian with wide eyes.

Jeff smacked Trent on the shoulder. “Dude!”

“I’m sorry!” He said apologetically. “But this is precious.”

Sebastian stepped in front of you, keeping you behind him as he eyed them warily. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to confirm that Eli is a girl.” Nick said, shrugging.

Sebastian’s eyebrows knitted together. “Confirm?”

“It wasn’t that hard to figure out.” Thad pointed out. “Eli slipped into her actual voice occasionally, and you called her __y/n__ without meaning to several times.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You piped up, peering out from behind Sebastian. “I’ve wanted to go to Dalton since I was five, I couldn’t handle going back to regular school.”

They all looked at you incredulously. “Why would we do that? You’re our friend.” Trent said, rising to his feet and smiling at you. “We don’t want you to leave either.” The other Warblers nodded in agreement, and you felt the sudden urge to cry. They were all so sweet.

You gave them a wobbly smile. “Thank you. It means a lot.” Sebastian wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple as you looked at the Warblers, a silly group of guys you had idolized for years and who were now your best friends, with glistening __e/c__ eyes. “You guys are the best. Seriously. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank us.” Nick said at the same time Jeff said “We should be thanking you for making Sebastian nice.”, and you snorted while Sebastian pretended to glare at the blonde-haired Warbler.

“I’m gonna take that as my cue to go.” Jeff said sheepishly, waving before disappearing from the doorway.

“We should go too.” Thad said, offering you a smile. “Oh, and Sebastian, we can handle practice on our own today.”

The Warblers filed out of the doorway one by one until Trent shut your door with a soft click, and you turned to look at Sebastian. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck before hovering your lips over his.

“You have awesome friends.” You whispered.

“I know.” Sebastian said, nodding as a smirk spread across his face. "And I have an awesome girlfriend.“ Sebastian chuckled against your lips. "Never thought I’d say that.”

“Never thought I’d have the best boyfriend in the world either, but you know.” You shrugged, grinning. “Life is weird.” You pressed your lips to his fully, your fingers tangling in his short hair as he kissed you back easily, a hand resting on your lower back and pulling your body as close to his as possible.

Dalton Academy was even better than you could have ever hoped. You had gained a bunch of new friends, an amazing boyfriend, and you got to go to your dream school.

Sebastian blinked in confusion as you suddenly burst into laughter, raising an eyebrow at you as you broke the kiss to catch your breath.

“I can’t wait to see Kurt’s face when I tell him that I’m dating Sebastian Smythe.”

Sebastian grinned. “Please let me be there when you tell him.”

“Oh, absolutely.” You winced as a fresh wave of cramps washed over you, dragging Sebastian over to your bed and pulling him down on it with you. “Cuddle me while we picture the horror on Kurt’s face?” You offered, and Sebastian’s arms were instantly tucking your body closer to his.


End.  <3

aurum88  asked:

Hey! So I see a lot of stuff where Mica is this unbelievably brutal assassin and I was wondering if you shared this idea? And if so (or if not) what your thoughts were on her?

Yessss definitely! RL Mica is a badass so Mica the mercenary is my favourite version of her in the FAHC world.

Mica who had an excellent upbringing, had the kind of family line that’s too wealthy to ever go down for all their white collar crime, who could so easily have become a spoiled princess, could have accepted a silver spoon life full of luxury, but was never prepared to settle. Never willing to get by on anyone else’s accolades, to give up her own ambition, to follow the path anyone else sets out for her.

Mica who was always told she was too soft to make it big in crime, too sweet to survive the cut-throat underbelly, too gorgeous for the dirty work. Mica who relished in proving everyone wrong, who worked hard to become something worse than they’d ever imagined, who is unrelenting until she is not only a known mercenary but one of the bigger names in the business. One of the baddest reputations, the kind not even kingpins want to cross, the kind even the Vagabond treats with reverence. Until no one would dream of talking down to her, of accusing her of riding coat tails or getting lucky, of being anything but god damn dangerous.

Mica who gives up none of herself to get there – doesn’t fold to expectation, doesn’t trade out her designer clothes, give up manicured nails or perfect hair. Who doesn’t lose her sense of humour, her breezy attitude, finds no reason to brood about a life full of death when she’s the one who chose it. When her services are in such high demand she can charge whatever the hell she likes. When she’s so undeniably good at what she does not a single target has managed to evade her, adapting her methods, approach and appearance with a skill even the infamous Dollface admires.

Mica who has a sharp mind and a sharper tongue, known for her infallible plans and her utter refusal to take anyone’s shit. Mica who did her time being underestimated, who let them all laugh at her designer heels, her pretty curls, her tailored clothes until her actions proved her more than worthy of respect. Who will no longer settle for anything less than respect. Who has turned on any foolish enough to forget, any who think enough zeros on a pay cheque entitle them to say whatever they like, behave however they like, who never seem to see the inevitable coming until there’s blood on the floor and a stiletto at their throat.

Mica who worked alone, constantly on the move and strictly a freelancer, at least until the FAHC. Until she catches sight of their frontman in some bar, eyebrows raising when he flat out abandons some kind of meeting to come talk to her, flashing a bright grin that almost belies the cold dark look he uses to instantly silence the complaints of his angry companions. Mica laughs when he offers to buy her a drink, knowing he didn’t even buy his own, knowing exactly how this interaction goes, fingers already dancing across the knife hidden beneath her clothes, resigned if faintly disappointed. Imagine her surprise when she realises Gavin is just fond of defying expectation as she is, that he is friendly, is charming, yes, but all that enthralment is focused on her professional abilities.  On winning her attentions because of her skill, her reputation, the varied stories of her exploits invoking boyish glee rather than the standard lecherous approach.  

It’s the same with the rest of his crew, once he convinces her to come meet with them about some job, all those ruthless  criminals with more respectful civility than most law abiding citizens, who understand full well the kind of skills it takes to pull off the work she does and wouldn’t dream of trying to belittle her. The Fake’s are a crew unlike any she has worked with, a crew who seem to work flawlessly together without the usual exercises of a shifting pecking order, free of power plays and loaded commentary. A crew who knows how to play with the Vagabond without losing any fingers, who’ve danced with Dollface and kept their tongues. A crew who actually understands the meaning in fun, who think is neither requires nor prohibits abject cruelty, who aren’t afraid of a little blood. Who aren’t afraid of a lot of it. Who call a massacre a good time and never fail to gush over her more creative hits. Add Ramsey, a leader who never thinks his requests are beyond her abilities, who offers aid and additional compensation for the seemingly impractical but never assumes she isn’t capable, and there’s really no reason for Mica to turn down the jobs she is offered.

So she works with the FAHC, takes regular jobs for them, a happy alliance, a contractor on the payroll with no end in sight, but no matter how much it might seem like she has she doesn’t actually join the crew. Not for lack of interest, not like they haven’t asked a million times, but at the end of the day she has worked too hard for herself to ever fold into someone else’s hierarchy. Mica who will never bow to anything, to anyone, who crafted her own crown, a legacy built from the ground up, and refuses to be toppled from her throne.


As Nira tries to console herself with everything that has happened over the past few days, she finds herself confronted once again by the demon.  She feels as if she is facing this demon alone, but is she?

It’s fluff, I swear…maybe…stop hounding me, you got fluff yesterday!

Things were only getting worse. It felt like every time she helped fix a problem, another problem would make itself known. There was nothing to hold onto and she was spiraling. Falling further and further into a darkness that would never end.

How was she to put the world in order?  Nira knew nothing outside of the Dalish.  Everything she had accomplished happened by sheer luck and the support of those around her. And she was supposed to be what?  The Herald of Andraste?  She knew nothing of Andraste or the people that served her.   How was she supposed to save them when she knew nothing outside of her people?  She wouldn’t even know where to start.

Holding her knees close to her chest, Nira hugged herself as she tried to calm down.  It was happening again.  The light that surrounded her was slowly being consumed by the darkness.  It was coming.  Nira buried her face into her arms.  She felt herself tense up as she prepared herself for the demon she knew was approaching.  It had first appeared after Cassandra began trusting her with more and more responsibility a week prior.  When the fear demon realized how much of an impact it had on her, it continued to haunt her.  

A sharp shiver ran down her spine as she braced herself.

“You’re still here?  I would have thought they had gotten rid of you by now.”

Nira'sal closed her eyes tight, desperately trying to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the demons words.  

The voice was soft and distant, but its words were sharp and struck her like no other.  It wasn’t working.  Her fear consumed her, despite how hard she tried to keep it at bay.  Summoning the small bit of courage she had left, Nira tightened her grip on her arms.  "Leave me alone.“

"Such strong words for such a weak little elf.  We both know you aren’t cut out for this.  You try to be kind to them, but will they return the favor when they find out who you truly are?  An elf that stumbled into something she doesn’t understand.  You can never save them.  Their hopes have been placed in the wrong hands.”

“I can try.  I will always try.”  Nira’s voice cracked as she spoke, her words trying to convince not only the demon but herself as well.

The demon chuckled, the sound deep and ominous, chilling her to her very core.  

“You can do nothing.  You will fail.  Why should you even bother?”

Each word was another dagger in her heart.  She wanted nothing more than to learn as much as she could about this world, but at the same time…she never asked for any of this.  She wasn’t good enough to become Keeper, what made anyone think that she could save them when she couldn’t even save her own clan?

“I…”  She raised her head slightly, her eyes focused on the ground.  Tears streamed down her cheeks.  He was right.  They had the wrong person.  Nira couldn’t recall what happened the day she stepped out of the rift, yet Cassandra and the others placed all their hopes in her.  What would happen if she couldn’t close the rift? What would they say?

“Vara amahn, elgar’daris.”  Another voice rang out somewhere far in front of her, a commanding voice that seemed to eat the darkness away bit by bit.  Slowly, the area that surrounded her became somewhat familiar. The Fade.  It wasn’t real…and yet…  Nira raised her hand to her forehead, her body shaking violently as she tried to regain herself.  

She couldn’t save this world.  She knew that from the beginning.  Why couldn’t anyone else see that she was the worst possible choice to save them?

“Nira’sal.”  Again the voice called out.  Nira looked up to the figure that she could barely make out amongst the darkness.  As he got closer, the answer should have been obvious.  It was Solas.  “Are you alright?”  He spoke softly, kneeling down beside her.  

“I am.  H-how did you find me?”  Nira looked up at him, tears threatening to erupt once more.  She reached out, gripping his cloak tightly, her body slowly moving closer to him with each passing moment.  

Solas watched her with a sad glance.  “I was speaking with a friend when I heard your cries.  I had no idea that a demon had its hold on you.  I apologize.  I should have realized it sooner.”  

She wasn’t alright.  The demon knew what strings to pluck.  Knew exactly which buttons to push.  Nira felt defeated, alone.  She just wanted some sort of comfort.  Hot tears stained her cheeks as she pulled herself into Solas.  “I just want to get out of here.  Take me home.”

A soft sigh escaped from his lips, his arms wrapping around her steadily. “Ma nuven’in, da’len.”

Nira’s eyes opened slowly and immediately began tracing the room.  She knew that the demon couldn’t be here, but she had to be sure.  She pushed herself up, wiping the tears from her eyes.  She was alone, but at least she was back in Haven and away from that demon.

She exhaled softly.  She was so weak.  If Solas hadn’t have come when he did, there’s no telling what would have happened.  

She heard a small tap on the door as it opened.  “Nira’sal?”  Solas looked over at her with a soft smile and slowly made his way over to her.  “Are you well?”  He asked, sitting beside her on the bed.

“Well enough…I guess…”  Nira forced a smile on her face.  They were quiet for a few moments.  She didn’t mean for anyone to see her like that.  Scared and alone, laid bare for him to see.  

“How long has that demon been tormenting you?”  

“Not very long….I’m so sorry, Solas.  I never meant…”  

A smile crossed his features.  “You have no reason to apologize.  Everyone faces their own demons.  It is nature of things.  Unfortunately, for mages, demons seem far more real and pose a much deeper threat.”  He paused for a moment.  “I had noticed that at times you seemed to carry a much heavier burden than the others.  I would have helped you had I known.  In the future, I would like for you to come to me.”

“I wasn’t really planning on telling anyone.  All of this…”  Nira looked around the room, her right hand gripping her arm.  “…It’s just all too much.  I didn’t want to let them down.”  Everything the demon said was true.  She was just a sheltered, naive little elf.  She had no idea where to even begin to seal the Breach.

Hesitantly, Solas reached over and placed his hand next to hers.  “I know, but they trust you.  They believe in you.  It will take time, but you will become the hero they require.”  He pushed himself to his feet, nodding slightly.  “Heroes are not born overnight, da’len, it will take time.  Now, try to get some rest.  We head out for Redcliffe tomorrow and you will need your strength.”  

Nira reached out for him, grabbing a bit of his jacket before he moved too far away.  Solas looked back at her, surprised by her sudden action.  “Wait…Will you stay with me?  At least until I fall asleep?  If the demon comes back, I…”

He watched her silently, but nodded, worry creased into his features as he sat back on the bed.  “Of course.”

Nira scooted back under the blanket, exhaling softly as she tried to make herself comfortable.  At least, as comfortable as she could…she still couldn’t get used to this shemlen style of living.  She was going to have to push herself through her discomfort.  Maybe with Solas here she could actually get enough sleep for the first time since she arrived in Haven.

She watched him for a moment, waiting for him to move in next to her.  When he did not, she pouted.

Nira grabbed Solas’ sleeve once more, tugging him towards her.  She scrunched her face up as she looked over at him, in hopes that he would understand what she wanted.  After a moment, Solas nodded begrudgingly, slipping himself in easily next to her in the bed.  Immediately Nira snuggled into his chest.  Finally, she felt safe.  She wasn’t alone and now?  She had someone she could go to when it came to the demon.  Solas knew everything about spirits.  Maybe he really could help her.

Solas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer.  “Tel gela, I will be here.”  Nira smiled and slowly drifted off to sleep, protected by Solas’ embrace throughout the night.


  • Vara amahn, elgar’daris - leave this place, demon
  • Ma nuven’in, da’len - As you wish, young one
  • Tel gela - Do not worry

If you like my writing, you can read more of it here!

Fen’harel enansal

Top 5 Final Fantasy Antagonists

It’s not like I have 3 fics to finish 2 of them with deadlines, nor like I am facing a mayhem of time chaos, or that I have the basic human need to sleep, nope. Let’s just find something else to spend time on. So here we are.

Because this will feature spoilers related to FFXV under a cut at the end, I have to do this now. Tags! Please, I tag everyone that wants to do this, and all I ask is that you mention me in the post @hannibalcatharsis-zero because I want to read people’s opinions, thoughts, biases, whatever, on your top favorite FF antagonists. You don’t have to make it as lengthy as I did, but I do talk a lot.
If I may, I’d like to directly tag @lvl99fangirl @adrastia @fujoshilyfe @datamarluxia @haeng-syo-peace@dancing-aqua@allowthisfam​ if you want to, simply because I’ve exchanged some words with you before.

Enough endless intro, on to the huge post.

Runner ups:

- Rufus Shinra (Compilation FFVII)

A rare case in FF, he’s neither an experiment, hybrid of some sort, madman or blessed/cursed with some awesome powers. 

This guy is entirely and purely human and therefore is all the more cold heartedness, lust for power, intellect and cunning. Seeing him the first time in Advent Children was one thing, but going back and seeing the stuff he did in FFVII? Even before that? Man, Papa Shinra wasn’t a nice man at all, but apples don’t fall far from the tree and the prodigal son sure as hell did some bad stuff and planned worse. And tried to kill dad more often than his other two brothers did just to rule in his stead even more ruthlessly than the old man. 

Good thing it just took a damn WEAPON firing, explosion and near death experience, Meteor falling and Geostigma to make him consider atoning.

I actually want to see him on the FFVII remake more than anything else really. Full HD Rufus on the prime of his full power-mad and evil persona? Damn.

- Kadaj, Yazoo & Loz (Compilation FFVII) - specially Kadaj

Originally posted by petite-princee

Originally posted by shinysnivy

I love Sephiroth’s Remnants, particularly Kadaj. They’re all so childish (including Yazoo!), which I find rather interesting when you know they’re parts of Sephiroth. Shoutaro Morikubo’s voice acting was beautiful and really built Kadaj’s threatening and deadly persona, while having the feeling of mean but lost child you kinda want to hug. Or would want to, if he wouldn’t likely kidnap your children, torture and kill you.

- Snow Villiers (Lightning Returns Final Fantasy XIII)

Yes, I know he’s not a real antagonist (not for long anyway), but look at him. He needs to be mentioned just because look at him.  

Holy shit.

–My top 5 favorite antagonists–

(not in order of preference!)

- Sephiroth (Compilation FFVII)

Originally posted by xsephiroth

Sephiroth is the name even non-FF fans know of. You have to give to a character when they create such a huge impact overall.

He is visually striking. When he did get voice acting, his voice is memorable (the Japanese one more, but the English isn’t bad either). His theme is memorable. He commited one of the most unexpected and memorable main-character murders in games specially as of 1997, and for that reason remained engarved in gaming history. He overall has all the immediate aspects to make him memorable.

The fallen hero that became a villain instead when he loses his mind after finding about (and missinterpretating) his origins as a genetical experiment. Personally, seeing his downfall in Crisis Core made me all the more fascinated with him. I grew to like him a lot more after seeing that, the change that happened to him. How awesome was Sephiroth, seriously? He was kind. Funny even. Man, Hojo is one of the most truly evil characters in the wholeout FF franchise.

The only one with shitty father (the worst) who DIDN’T kill him! Man, seriously, Rufus tried, Genesis did, so did Seymour. Seriously Sephiroth, why didn’t you kill Hojo.

Crisis Core is excellent overall. One of the saddest games.

I honestly don’t know how to exactly pinpoint what makes me like Sephiroth so much.

But the music helped too.
EVERYONE that knew me in 2006-2010 knew this song. I made sure of it.

- Genesis Rhapsodos (Crisis Core/Compilation FFVII)

Originally posted by caerberus

Genesis doesn’t really get a lot of love, and I can’t really blame long-time fans in particular. But personally, I find it a shame.
It does help, I think, that I don’t take Crisis Core in its English version. The whole FFVII universe exists in my head in its Japanese format, I’m sorry to the voice actors of the Eng sub. Gackt’s voice is Genesis’s (well, that’s the point really. He is a lot more irritating in English.

I love everything about this guy. I love the melancholia he lived in, the search for purpose/understanding through parallels, the obssession and obssessive persona he created, the search for friends of equal worth, the utter self hatred, the madness he fell into.
Genesis is tragic.

And the just little (little) stabs and just friendly twists of the knife on Sephiroth’s psyche “We’re all monsters, I’m a monster, but you’re the worst of all. You’re the defination of monster, you know? But hey, I want you to be my friend, help me out :) “

I find it a huge tragedy that he outlives so many people when he didn’t plan to.

- Seymour Guado (FFX)

Originally posted by datamarluxia

My love for this guy exceeds my argumentation ability.

The nihilist even before I knew what nihilism was. I for one never minded his English voice, which in later years I found that people had a quirk against. One of the things I appreciated was to see him fall to madness and how it reflected in his voice turning fiend-ish. I like that he’s the counterpart/parallel of Yuna and how she turned her goal into preserving life and overcoming pain while he decided to end life to end pain.
With the life he lived, you can hardly NOT understand why he sees the world like that. Ostracized for being half-Human half-Guado when obviously he had no fault on that; his father who DID have a part on that shipped him away with his mother arguably for their protection; his mother commiting second-hand suicide to help him gain public appeal against him literally crying for her not to (I wonder why he would prefer his mother alive, huh? I still love those memories in Zanarkand Ruins so much); finally being accepted because he fucking exceeds at magic and has the most powerful Dark Aeon one can have only to see the utter corruption of the world and the religious-political regime that ends up confirming and preaching what he knows from experience - life is about suffering and will ever be.

And he’s the definition of ‘doesn’t die’ (Sephiroth too). I mean, you KILL him at 30% of the game, and he literally returns more than to haunt you :) that’s 4 fucking fights, and overall most people can agree that Seymour Flux was one of the hardest storyline boss fights in the franchise. Many tears were shed under countless hours of attempts only to be crushed each time under Total Annhilation attack.

Besides, not many antagonists include in their plans literally marrying the protagonist (and beforementioned parallel)and having one of the most beautiful wedding purposals 

Originally posted by caerberus

Originally posted by caerberus

Originally posted by captestheimxv

and one of the most awesome weddings ever in gaming history,  in my opinion.

Originally posted by caerberus

Originally posted by iures

Originally posted by caerberus

Originally posted by ethernalium

Originally posted by aegisol

- Caius Ballad (FFXIII-2/Lightning Retuns)

Originally posted by cleyra

Caius saved Final Fantasy XIII trilogy for me.

The whole point of making a post on antagonists/villains is because these characters are a structural part of any story - any FF in particular. FFXIII severily lacked and failed overall to me because of this. Then came this guy and as soon as he appears in the intro, you cannot take your eyes off him.

Originally posted by finalaeon

Originally posted by liberatorofsouls

Originally posted by thingsinlifeyoujustdo

Originally posted by noellkreiss

Caius has got to be one of the most selfless antagonists in the franchise. He’s mean, yeah, but you get his point from the get go. He’s willing to end everything and everyone if it means he can save a girl that has been suffering endlessly (in his view at least - that was one beautiful twist in the story/interpretation, Noel’s words about Yeul’s reincarnation).

And you know what, another rare thing in FF antagonists: he’s successful. He got what he wanted, most of it anyway, including his death. There were some setbacks and unexpected stuff for him in LR indeed (he didn’t plan the Chaos of Yeuls binding him in the paradox, but well) but he got pretty much his biggest three wishes - kill Etro/kill himself, unleash Chaos and Valhalla to destroy time and save Yeul.
Not everything ended up exactly like he envisioned, but the result was basically the same. And he was happy.

Also. The voice. The fcking VOICE. Liam O’Brian, man.

The pain in his words!

And the music!

- Ardyn Izunia (FFXV)

Originally posted by datamarluxia

Well this part isn’t spoilers yet so:
The voice. The. fcking. voice. The range of emotions Darin de Paul and Fujiwara Keiji have in their performances is amazing. Ardyn is so unique, so regal, over the top if he wants and so often funny. So captivating. 
His whole image/pose is striking, the way he stands and moves. Will anyone deny that that entrace in the fucking BEAUTIFUL MAGESTIC throne room in Kingsglaive didn’t immediately steal all and any attention to himself despite his surroundings and King Regis standing in the throne? He owns a scene the moment he appears.

Originally posted by verryfinny

I also found his more human image (meaning his realism really - you don’t get an antagonist in FF looking this real when it comes to mid/late 30s) quite appealing when compared to others. He’s beautiful obviously, like all others, and still clearly FF-ian, but he’s less ‘facially perfect’ compared to several others before him.

-spoilers- henceforth obviously

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I've seen lots of meta saying how Sherlock knows John has feeling for him- like for example, that he realized it during the Battersea scene. I just don't think this is possible, since Sherlock didn't even realize that John considered him his BEST FRIEND! What do you think?

Ahh, Nonny, this is such a mixed bag, and it gets all a bit muddled in my head every time I think about it. I’ve talked about something similar to this before here, so feel free to read that as well, but I’ll take the time to “update” my thoughts on this. Warning for nothing making any friggin’ sense, but here we go.

The idea of Sherlock always knowing how John felt comes from the moment that John was actually hitting on Sherlock in their first dinner together. Sherlock is a very observant man… he even called John out on it:

JOHN (still smiling, though his smile is becoming a little fixed and awkward): Right. Okay. You’re unattached. Like me. (He looks down at his plate, apparently rapidly running out of things to say.) Fine. (He clears his throat.) Good.
(He continues eating. Sherlock looks at him suspiciously for a moment but then turns his attention out of the window again. However, he then appears to replay John’s statement in his head and looks a little startled. Turning his head towards John again, he starts speaking rather awkwardly but rapidly speeds up and is almost babbling by the time John interrupts him.)
SHERLOCK: John, um … I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I’m flattered by your interest, I’m really not looking for any … [ X ]

There’s a short little blurb here about it, which explains why Sherlock denied John the first time ‘round, which is basically summed up as Sherlock has purposely avoided feelings and relationships because he believed they interfered with The Work. At Angelo’s, the two had just met and Sherlock interpreted John’s interest as John just trying to get off with someone. It is a canon fact that John’s goal is to ultimately get off with his dates, as seen by his FIRST DATE with Sarah. Sherlock doesn’t want to give John the wrong idea; he’s looking for a flatmate, and maybe a friend. John tried with Sherlock, failed, and moved on to the next person, thinking the attraction would pass. I mentioned at the bottom of this post that the reason they actually stayed together was because they were both lonely, and that’s why their relationship was as easy as it was even after John trying to hit on Sherlock.

But less than three months into their friendship and ALREADY Sherlock is displaying signs of… “John is MY friend” I guess is the best way to put it, though I don’t think Sherlock realizes he’s doing it. He doesn’t know why it hurts when John shoots him down as a friend. So he once again shuts down… and proceeds to crash John’s date because possible jealousy and maybe out of spite.

And their friendship only grew more and more the closer the two got to each other. I don’t think Sherlock actually realized he was sending the mixed signals to John, but after the pool I believe is when Sherlock started attempting to classify what it is exactly he feels for John. I’ve stated in other meta of mine that I read Sherlock as demi-homosexual, him needing to form bonds with people before he expresses any sort of sexual attraction. And Irene Adler forced Sherlock to realize that their relationship may possibly be something more… but unfortunately he wasn’t ready to face that reality yet, that he was, in fact, not immune to sentiment.

I think Sherlock did realize at Battersea that John had some sort of feelings for him, but really didn’t understand what it was. This is a new experience for him – people don’t just LOVE Sherlock – and he’s having a hard time grasping the idea of it. He didn’t really understand the gravity of the Battersea conversation until he deduced Irene at the end, I think. And he spent the better part of that deduction trying to convince everyone around him that he doesn’t love or care about anyone. Sherlock Holmes doesn’t do sentiment. 

Except he does, doesn’t he? I think a lot of the reason he never acted upon it was because he knew John would therefore become a target to get to Sherlock, like in TGG, and as we learn in THoB they were dealing with a plan against Moriarty at that time, so… again, Moriarty and the fear of John being used against Sherlock. By TRF, he understands that he loves John and that John cared a great deal for him… but Moriarty forced his hand, and if he wanted John to survive, then he had to leave. Sherlock thinks John will be okay without him, because John was always better / stronger / more clever / braver. John will always wait for him.

As for the “best friend” revelation, I think that has more to do with Sherlock believing John really has moved on. I truly believe that on that first night back, Sherlock was planning to restart their relationship – a do-over of Angelo’s if you will – and this time tell John that yes, let’s be together. And he continued to try to do so up until the “just the two of us against the rest of the world” bit. But Sherlock made a grave error, because he didn’t realize the gravity of just how much John actually did care for him. John’s forgiven him, but he’s lost John’s trust. They weren’t spending all their time together anymore, John hardly went on cases (and even then those were few and far between because Sherlock wasn’t taking cases anymore), John had Mary now, and John seemed happy without Sherlock as a constant in his life. So Sherlock quietly stepped aside and left John alone… because he knew just how much he had truly hurt John, and if he stayed away, he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore, and MAYBE his own horrible pining would go away, just like John’s did. So it’s no wonder Sherlock is shocked about being John’s BEST friend, because Sherlock’s not a BEST ANYTHING… How could John forgive him for all his transgressions like that? He thought John wanted nothing to do with him, and now all of a sudden their best friends? Well… Sherlock could live with THAT at least. 

I’m of the group that believes Sherlock truly didn’t realize until TSo3′s best man speech that John actually was interested in being something more with him, and it went back THAT FAR, hence the flashbacks TO ASiB. Suddenly Sherlock realized John not only loved him but was IN LOVE with him, and why John suffered so much, and now Sherlock thinks he has missed his opportunity. Commence the ever-more-painful pining for something he COULD HAVE HAD if he just would have stopped being so blindsided.

There’s also some excellent reading here talking about John’s view on the relationship, plus there are some good posts in my ‘sherlock’s sexuality’ blog tag. I still have a hard time with ASiB and trying to understand it, but I am learning slowly. 

I know I’m not making much sense here, because the idea is in my head and it makes sense but trying to explain it takes a bit more (I’ve actually rewritten this post six or seven times now… :P)

TL:DR; Sherlock rejected John on Day 1, knew John was sexually attracted to him; realized in ASiB the depth of John’s feelings for Sherlock expanded beyond sexual, but never acted upon it because of Moriarty; tried to restart the relationship in TEH and failed because Sherlock underestimated their relationship, commence season-long pining; John affirms they’re best friends despite everything Sherlock has done to John, and Sherlock will take what he can get; admits to John on the tarmac, offhandedly, that he’s in love with him. 

I’m open to other people’s theories on this. As I said, it’s all a mess in my head still.

More from inevitably-johnlocked:  MY META || BEST OF MY BLOG

Michael x Fem!Reader : You Didn't Notice Things
Written by: Pen

Summary: Michael catches the reader on a fanfiction blog reading a steamy fic about them being together.

A/N: nice idea!!!! Didn’t have the energy to make it smutty but y’all can make it smutty in your heads ;) also !! I just thought that they would be already in a relationship so.. Hope you don’t mind

Rating: PG/R (Hinted smut)

WC: 730

T: nope~ swearing and stuff

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello! I was wondering if you can make a alternate/happy ending of the interview (if you don't mind.) That story has been stuck in my head and I'd love to read another version of it. :)

Oh, I’d love to! I did like the idea then, and the format I was trying to reflect based off the film I was inspired by. (Its name is Jackie, I thought the film was rather good, here’s a link to the trailer if you’re interested!)

Also if anyone else hasn’t read the original version of Interview, I suggest you read that first.

Thank you and have an incredible day!


You sat beside the hospital bed, a hand wound about your husband. 

However, for once, there was no comforting thumb rubbing your knuckles, or gentle smile on his face.

Because he was asleep.

A coma, specifically. 

He’d been this way for weeks. 

But he’d been becoming responsive. 

It had even been recorded by medical staff.

A small squeeze of your hand when you cried.

A few murmured words when you spoke.

He was getting better.

He had to be. 

Your thoughts were interrupted, by a nurse, her voice soft.

“Mrs. Han? There’s a reporter here to see you.” 

“I thought…I thought I asked for no reporters.” You hummed, rubbing at your tired eyes.

You had hardly gotten a wink of sleep.

“Yes well…he was sent by your father in law. Mr. Han wanted some sort of update while he’s away and Mr. Jung was the closest in the area.” 

“Is that verified?” You asked, hesitance apparent in your words. 

“Yes, Mr. Han called us this morning to let us know.” She sighed. “He also believed…it may help you.” 

You scrunched up your nose, sitting up awkwardly. “N-No more than a few questions.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a period of silence before the journalist arrived that you couldn’t help but feel another wave of exhaustion crash over you, your body weak.

It wasn’t the type of exhaustion caused when you didn’t sleep, though.

It was the kind from when you felt drained. 

You had cried until your face seemed engraved with permanent tear stains. 

Your body was seemingly weighed down with cinder blocks, each step heavier than the next. 

Your grief swelled inside of you as though you may burst, your hope muddling with weary aches. 

“Mrs. Han?” An oddly bright voice chimed in your ears. 

You turned to see a young man, his hair disheveled and wrapped into a loose bun with strands slipping over his muddy eyes. 

You didn’t know entirely how to react when his lips stretched into a smile. 

A smile was refreshing, most of the time.

But not now. 

He understood immediately, anxiously clearing his throat as he approached you, reaching out a hand. 

“I’m sure the nurse already told you about me but I’m Jung Byeon.” 

You slowly took it, dipping your head lightly. “MC.” 

He pulled up a seat, sitting down beside you, tapping his notepad as though he was excited. 

That wasn’t appreciated by you. 

“So, what…exactly happened?” 

You narrowed your eyes, raising a perplexed brow. “What…? I-Isn’t it a-already all over the n-news?” 

“Well, a version of it. Mr. Han specifically requested to hear it from your point of view. Knowing that you were closest to your husband at the time.” 


The memories had sat in your mind, hints and reminders haunting you every moment it could.

You knew it better than you knew yourself. 

“I-It…It might give you some…closure as well to talk about it.” He remarked. “Think of me as like a friend, I’m just here to help.” 

You took a deep breath, soaking in his words. 


“So, would you be able to describe to me what happened?” 

You had been standing beside your husband, the two of you happily talking in the early morning before he had to attend one of his meetings. 

Your hands were entwined, you yourself pressing close against him, a dazed expression painting your face. 

“We were together early in the morning.” You felt a faint grin appear as you thought of him. “We’re almost always together. It’s nice to always have someone by your side. I-I hadn’t even thought that anything was off.”

You were too preoccupied to notice the figures upon the roof. 

Your frown quickly reemerged. 

“Do you have any idea as to why the perpetrator was after him?” 

“N-no, he’s the kindest, most considerate person I know!” You insisted. “I-I mean he can be cold b-but…he’s never needlessly aggressive. He’s polite with clients and coworkers. I-I can’t imagine anyone truly wanting him dead.” 

“They’ve stated it had to do with his business as a whole. Moreso what he represented than who he was. And what he represented was wealth and power, something many people want” 

“He didn’t deserve that.” You replied sharply. “H-He didn't’ deserve any of this. He didn’t choose to be born into the life he has! None of us get to choose for the environments we were raised in, so why do so many act as though he wanted any of this?” 

“I don’t know,” Jung mumbled. “I’m sorry.” 

You felt anger pour from your fingertips, drawing about you as though you were paper. 

“T-That bullet sounded like a train.” You said, your tone trembling. “The whole s-situation was like watching someone be pushed in front of a train.” 

“How so?” 

“I-It all goes by too fast for you to process at first. All you hear is a w-wailing, a-and s-screeching until it all comes to this horrible realization.” 

You had just assumed it was a car or something of the sort. 

Until you heard the breath be snatched from Jumin, a short, desperate gasp erupting from him before his body collapsed against you, sloppily pushing you behind him. 

“H-Honey?” You had switched your head back, a horror smashing into you as you found his eyes wider than dinner plates with surprise as blood dribbled from his mouth.

And as well, from the side of his head. 

His grip had tightened on you suddenly, as though some sort of attempt to shield you, or hide you away. 

He opened his mouth to speak, barely coherent words rasping from him. 

You could hardly believe what he was telling you. 

“And what did he say?” 

“Are you okay?” He asked as you drew him down to the ground, his strength dispersing from him in moments. 

You set his head in your lap, ignoring the security that raced about frantically. 

His blood was smearing against you.

His blood. 

He was bleeding. 

You threw off your jacket, covering the wound, refraining from breaking into furious sobs as you saw the bits of flesh dangling helplessly to his head. 

This shouldn’t be happening. 

Why was this happening?

“Are you okay, love?” He wheezed again, his eyes rolling towards you. 

“I-I’m fine!” You cried, tipping your head in the crook of his neck. “Y-You’re going to be fine too! I’ll make sure of it! O-Okay?” 

And you swore, after hearing you assure him, he grinned.

It was a small, feeble grin.

But one nonetheless.

“He held my hand, t-the entire time.” You felt the tears spill down your cheeks again, your chin quivering. “It’s l-like I was his lifeline.” You huffed. “And I’m not letting go until I see him awake! U-Until he’s okay!” 

“You care very much-” 

“I love him!” You snapped. “He’s everything to me!” 

“Well, what do you plan to do if he doesn’t wake up?” 

Your breath hitched. 

You were silent for a bit, before scowling.

“He’s going to wake up.” 

“There’s no guarantee.” 

“He’s been showing response signs! He’s expected to wake up-” 

“Expected doesn’t mean for sure-” 

“You need to leave.” You snarled. “Now.” 

“Ms. Han-” 

“Leave. Now. Please.” 

Jung opened his mouth to speak but clamped his mouth shut as he began to scramble to his feet. 

“Yes ma’am.” He returned. “T-Thank you.” 

You were silent. 

You didn’t dare move until you heard his steps fade away down the hall. 

You wiped at your face, turning back towards Jumin. 

You squeezed his hand, laying your head on the mattress. “I’m staying here. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you.” 

And to your utter surprise. 

You got a response. 

It was dry, yet each word was laced with a tenderness that could only come from him.

“I’m not leaving either darling.” 

Can’t Change the Past (Until You Try)

@hedgiwithapen and I were discussing how episode 1x15 might change now that Hartley is retroactively in the mix.

Because Hartley has long been wary of Dr. Wells; his suspicion (and Joe’s) was a big part of what motivated Cisco to look for more answers. So when Cisco decides to examine the trap in the bunker and asks Caitlin to keep Wells busy for an hour or so, maybe he’d call Hartley to ask for a hand? And Hartley probably teases him a little about his invention not working but he’s definitely worried something else it up, too.

(I think Eobard has been uncomfortable with Hartley’s presence for weeks, now. Hartley already figured out one big secret and could have ruined everything for him before he began; he does not want that happening again. He tries his best not to make STAR labs a welcoming environment for Hartley, but his employees insist on reconciling.)

When Cisco fiddles with just the right cord and the hologram pops up, large as life, Hartley reacts first. Cisco’s still frozen, disbelieving, but Hartley has been ready for something like this for some time, now. Maybe he didn’t expect it to take this form, but he has no problem at all accepting that Dr. Wells isn’t someone they can trust.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Just so you know, if you ever write a one-shot about Chloe and Lucifer as president and first gentleman, I would read the shit out if it. I didn't even know I need it but now I think that would be the most hilarious thing

pure crack based on my tags from this post, Lucifer’s feelings about Trump, and the fact that I think we could all really use this.

“Wow,” says Chloe Decker, President-elect of the United States of America, as she stares at her new office. A windowless corner cubicle, it is not. She laughs a little unsteadily, as the gravity of it finally, finally seems to be hitting. “So, uh, that’s it, I guess. Not bad. And before you ask, no. We absolutely may not have sex on the desk.”

Her devoted spouse pouts. “Bloody hell, you already stopped me from jumping on the bed in the Lincoln Bedroom and now this. It’s like you’re determined not to let me have any fun at all. Besides, I can’t do anything any more degrading to it than he did.”

Despite herself, Chloe snorts. “Answer’s still no.”

“Oh, come on, Senator. Just once?”

“No, I said. And you’re going to have to get used to calling me Madam President, remember?” Chloe turns to grin up at her husband. In exactly six days, America’s First Gentleman is going to be one Lucifer Morningstar, and America is going to have absolutely no idea what hit it. The Westboro Baptist Church has already announced plans to picket the inauguration, delighting Lucifer inordinately, and the right wing nut job online hysteria factory has been double-overtime blowing gaskets on theories about how these are the biblical End Times and Satan has taken over America (“oh bless them, look how hard they’re working to prove I’m the Devil, it’s adorable”), but the rest of the country is too relieved at getting rid of Chloe’s predecessor to care. There is still a distinct whiff of orange about the whole place, and of course he’s been a massive sore loser and has made the transition as purposefully unhelpful as possible. But Chloe is armed and ready to go. She wasn’t intending on running for president so early in her career, though she did have it in mind after quitting acting and following her dad, a greatly respected U.S. Senator from California who was shot at a re-election event in 2000, into politics. Like him, she’s one of the critically endangered species who thinks she can really make a positive difference in people’s lives, and after a stint in the state legislature, two terms in the House, getting elected to the Senate and her dad’s old seat soon after she turned thirty, and being tipped as a rising star in the Democratic Party to take down Führer Cheeto Voldemort in 2020, here she is. It’s a surreal and emotional moment, to say the least. But they made it.

“Well,” Lucifer says, as they continue to stare at the Oval Office and Chloe tries to imagine herself sitting there, reading briefings, making decisions, fielding calls from foreign leaders. The work part, at least, is not going to be a problem for her. “As the presidential spouse, do I at least get to plan the entertainment? Play piano at state dinners, order the strippers?”

“Lucifer, we have gone over this. Absolutely no strippers at state dinners.”

“Right, right. We are running a classy White House again.” He snaps his fingers. “And I suppose the media will have a fit if I spend a lot of money decorating the place to make it look less like your dead grandmother’s sitting room. All that china and striped wallpaper, really. It’s already bad enough that we have to have those Secret Service gits in sunglasses following us everywhere. Do they think I can’t protect you?”

“Considering what happens to you when I’m around, and that we have a lot of crazy people with guns very angry at us, I’m perfectly fine with them.” Of all of this, Chloe has worried most about the effect on Trixie, transplanting a thirteen-year-old girl across the country from Los Angeles to Washington D.C., transformed overnight from an ordinary tween worrying about starting high school and boys and pimples to the single most scrutinized child in the world, who will never have an entirely normal life again. Malia and Sasha are going to be by later for a chat, and Chloe has invited Barack and Michelle as her special guests to the inauguration, after all the campaigning they did for her – along with her ex-husband, former California Attorney General Dan Espinoza, and U.S. Representative Ella Lopez, from Detroit. Her new vice president, Dr. Linda Martin, has already been dubbed “America’s Mom,” and the internet loves her. (They also love Chloe and Lucifer.) Amenadiel had kittens about an angel interfering in human politics and didn’t do any events, while Maze, to prove a point, did about twenty a day. They, however, had to strictly forbid her from starting them off by running on stage dressed in black leather, cracking a whip, and yelling, “VOTE FOR CHLOE AND LINDA, PUNY MORTALS!”

As for Lucifer himself, it turns out that if you give him one of his favorite subjects (Chloe) and clear instructions (talk about how awesome she is), he is an absolute lethal weapon, stone-cold closer, on the campaign trail. Easily drew the biggest crowds, and was, of course, more than happy to take a million selfies with everyone afterward. What’s noticeable is how that feeling seems to have finally permeated the air around here again, how relieved and hopeful everyone is. They’re expecting a record crowd, and Hillary Clinton sent a personal note of thanks and congratulations. Yes, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did a lot of shit in four years. A lot. But Chloe is going to fix it, at least as much as she can. And for all his requests to jump on Abraham Lincoln’s bed and have sex on a desk built with wood from the U.S.S. Constitution, she wouldn’t have anyone else as her partner on this.

“Anyway,” she says, as they step back and start to walk. There are a thousand events to finalize, a draft of her inaugural address to look over, a few interviews to do, a press conference where she is very much looking forward to answering questions about how much the Cheeto is hating having a woman kick him out in total humiliating one-term disgrace (the Electoral College split was close to 400-138 and the popular vote was 55%-33%-12%  – yes, Gary Johnson and Jill Stein are still running, and even more bewilderingly, yes, people are still voting for them) as officially America’s least popular president ever. Chloe’s first meetings in the White House are all slotted for women’s groups and minorities and everyone else who needs their seat at the table back. “I have something else I want you to do.”

“Oh?” Lucifer looks intrigued. “And what is that?”

“Anyone I’m appointing to any post anywhere, I want you to meet them. They’re all going through the usual vetting process, of course, but you’re a lot faster than any bureaucracy – and frankly, a lot more efficient. Whatever they tell you about whatever they want or what they’re planning to do, I can use it to decide if they’re right for the job. Sussing out the scandalous secrets of the American government sounds like exactly the sort of thing you’d be good at. After all, you’ve already said plenty that this place is basically exactly like hell.”

“Ooh, Madam President.” Lucifer stops, stares at her, and grins wickedly. “You are playing a little dirty after all, aren’t you?”

“If Satan is taking over America, I intend to put him to work.” Chloe links her arm through his. “Which reminds me, on that note – ”

“Yes, I was just getting to that, thank you. Did you know that the presidential spouse usually holds the Bible on which the president is taking the oath of office? It’s terrible, I won’t do it.”

“Really?” Chloe’s eyebrows nearly arch off her head. “Really? After all this, holding the Bible on Capitol Hill for literally one minute is where you’re going to draw the line?”

“But my dear – ”

“Fine, you giant whining baby. I’ll ask Trixie to do it. I think that says something more important, anyway.”

Chloe is just trying to remember what she was actually about to say before he hijacked her train of thought, when an aide hurries up. “Madam President-elect? We need to go over a few things, if you could possibly –”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.” She does have to get used to being at everyone’s permanent beck and call, so Chloe stands on her tiptoes to kiss Lucifer on the cheek, sternly admonishes him not to get into any trouble, and follows the aide. There are a few wrinkles to iron out with the order of events, she is scheduled to host Justin Trudeau in three weeks and Canada has sent a polite welcome dossier (being Canada) that she needs to read before their talks, and Penelope Decker has called about five times to make sure the dress she’s picked out for the inauguration ball is the right one. By the time Chloe is let go, it’s almost the end of the afternoon, and Lucifer has gone walkabout. Oh dear.

She is just about to ask the Secret Service if he’s taken his Corvette out for one final spin (no more tooling around in two-seater open convertibles for the president’s husband, it’ll be armored limos from this point on) when she hears a funny noise from behind one of the doors. She frowns, tilts her head, and then it comes again – which she then recognizes, breaks into a run down the expensive carpet to the door in question, and yanks it open.

Inside, Lucifer Morningstar has Donald J. Trump around the neck and hoisted into the air with one hand. Trump is wheezing and kicking, while Chloe stops dead, stares, and then bellows, “LUCIFER!”

Lucifer glances at her in innocent surprise, looks between his wife and the man whose job she is taking, shrugs, and finally drops Trump with a thump. His hairpiece falls off and slides over one eye, as he is gibbering even more incoherently than usual – seems Lucifer might have given him a taste of the full Devil Face. While she of course absolutely does not endorse this extremely illegal treatment of a sitting (alas) U.S. President, Chloe to bite her cheek hard. “Lucifer,” she orders. “Do not ever do that again.”

Lucifer looks at Trump meaningfully.

Trump whimpers.

Lucifer shrugs again, steps over him, and offers his arm to Chloe. “Come on, Madam President,” he says. “Time to go run this bloody country.”

Kakasaku Oneshot: “Square One”

Title: Square One
Summary: After a disastrous meeting with Naruto, Kakashi finds himself on Sakura’s doorstep. “By decree of the Hokage, I am supposed to apologize,” he announced flatly.

A/N: Part 4 is finally here! I started Square One over a year ago, but my life since Baby Steps and now was honestly a mess. I’m still trying to put my life back together in a way that will finally make sense, but I’m in a better place now and grateful for all your patience and support. Your comments in the tags always surprise me in the best way. Thank you to everyone who has been reading the series and I hope you’ll stick with me for the end next time.

Tabula Rasa Masterpost

Kakashi scanned the room as he stood in the middle of the Hokage’s office. It had not changed much since his term. All the furniture was in the same place, the scrolls and portraits on the wall the same frozen sentinels he remembered. The only differences he could spot were the addition of two potted plants at the edge of the windows and another computer in the corner flanked by mounds of paperwork.

But while the furnishings had not changed, Kakashi had to admit it did feel quite different to be under Anbu escort on the other side of the desk. Ever since Tsunade retired, he had forgotten this sensation.

Keep reading

You belong to us.

Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean 
Prompt: Reader works as a bait to catch a witch but gets too close to him for the brother’s liking, so they decided to remind her that she belongs to them. Part two for ‘Show You’
Part 1
Word count:  1,479
Warnings: Oral sex, semi-public sex, possessive Dean, possessive Sam

Your name: submit What is this?

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Dedicated to: perceptivewise, my fellow nerdlet and writer extraordinaire^^ 

Pairing: Yato/Hiyori

Rating: K+ 

Title: Wish

Yato was one hundred percent sure that Hiyori was hiding something from him.

It all started when they went to Tenjin’s shrine to collect payment for a job he had once again delegated to Yato. Hiyori pulled Tenjin aside, claiming that she wanted to ask him a very important question about school. But when she went to catch up with them moments later, her face was a deep shade of red. Tenjin himself looked vaguely amused and as he walked them back to the gate, he looked at Hiyori and said, “Go on Thursdays. He’s usually not as busy by then.”

Yato pestered her about who “he” was the whole walk home but she would only respond to his questions with evasive replies or annoyed declarations about how nosy he was. He finally gave up, figuring that she had asked Tenjin for help in finding a tutor and he had given her a referral. She was probably just too proud to admit that she was struggling hard enough in a subject to need extra help.

That wasn’t the end of her mysterious behavior. Since then, she began to act very strangely around him, often becoming flustered over the littlest things he would say. She also became distracted; her eyes having that far-away look that often came to people when they were consumed with a problem. That worried him greatly. He didn’t ever want her to feel troubled or upset and if she was, he wanted to do everything he could to help. He told her this many times but she would merely smile at him and re-assure him  that she was fine and that what concerned her was something that she could deal with on her own.

She became secretive too. Once, she locked herself in her room and wouldn’t let him or Yukine in, no matter how hard pleaded. She claimed that she had a very important test coming up and she didn’t want to be disturbed. But when he went to peek at her from the window, he could see her bent over her desk, completely absorbed in writing something. He tried to stealthily sneak in to see what it was but she noticed him before he could and wasted no time in slamming her foot against his chest.

She also kept trying to avoid him. Once, when he invited her to have snacks with him and Yukine, she refused saying that she had an important family dinner to attend and she needed to prepare. He immediately became suspicious—it was impossible for Hiyori’s parents to schedule an outing that day. It was a Friday and her father worked long hours and generally had little time to spare outside the hospital. Yato decided to skip snacks in favor of following Hiyori around, curious to see what her real plan was. He got about as far as two train stops before Hiyori spotted him and tackled him into a German Suplex.

Then, there was that other time when Hiyori gave him a job request. One of her friends needed help sewing her costume up for a school play and Hiyori had recommended him. The job wasn’t too difficult, given his background in loom-weaving and he and Yukine managed to finish it in record time. Hiyori however, wasn’t too happy to see them.

“Done already?” she said, looking dismayed as Yato picked through her refrigerator.

“Yeah!” he brightly said. He grabbed one of her father’s beers and popped it open. “She was going to play a caterpillar so the only hard part was getting the mask right—and wait. Hiyori? Were you about to go somewhere?”

His brows pinched together as he took stock of what she was wearing. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she was wearing a loose shirt and some rubber shoes. Clearly, she planned on going somewhere that involved long travel.

She nervously looked away and said, “Ahh, no. Not really. I was just planning on hanging out with Ami and Yama today.”

“Ooookay,” he said, scrutinizing her.  Her fingers were protectively curled around what looked like a small, flat piece of rectangular wood and he noticed that her eyes kept darting towards it. He raised a brow and said, “Hey, what’s that?”

She quickly hid whatever she was holding behind her back. She mumbled, “N-Nothing.”

He opened his mouth to ask her more but before he could, Yukine spoke up, asking if he could have those books she had promised him a week ago. Hiyori looked relieved and eagerly agreed to get them, prompting Yato to loudly groan and glare at Yukine for the interruption.

It wasn’t even long before she was at it again. This time, she didn’t even bother to try to distract Yato or come up with excuses to not meet up with him. The moment school ended, she immediately switched her phone off and rushed to the train station, occasionally shooting furtive glances at her sides and back. But by then, Yato’s curiosity had already been piqued and he would not rest until he knew where she kept wanting to go and what she was adamantly keeping from him. He quietly followed her, careful not to alert her of his presence.

It didn’t take long for her to find out and she responded swiftly, grabbing him by the elbow and flinging him into a nearby trash bin. That didn’t deter him from poking his head out of the bin and obnoxiously asking her where she was going. He never got the answer he wanted, but he did manage to get a nice afternoon, alone with her. The two of them ended up getting off the train and exploring a part of the city that Hiyori had never been to before.

Still, Yato could not bring himself to relax until he knew for certain who she was planning to meet up with. And why she was so resolute with him not finding out about it.

“Why won’t she just tell me where she’s going?” he whined as he rolled on his futon, wailing and clutching his Capyper stuffed toy.

Yukine gave an irritated sigh and turned away from the Math problem he was trying to solve. He said, “Maybe because it’s none of your business! Quit bothering her about it. It’s annoying.”

“But I wanna know who she’s seeing! And why she doesn’t wanna tell me!”

Yukine shrugged. “Maybe it’s because she’s meeting up with someone for a date and she doesn’t want to upset you or something.”

“WHAT?” Yato exploded, sitting up. Yukine just rolled his eyes and returned to his worksheet, ignoring Yato’s increasingly disgruntled blabbering.

The idea certainly wasn’t impossible and the whole thing did start when Hiyori had that conversation with Tenjin. Perhaps the “he” the two of them were talking about was not a tutor for Hiyori, but rather a suitor. He scowled into his pillow, beyond annoyed. If that was truly the case then he would be having words with Tenjin. But in the meantime, he just needed to pay closer attention to Hiyori.

The fourth time she tried to sneak away from him, she was more successful. Her parents were out and she invited him over to her house to watch his favorite show. He immediately accepted, dragging Yukine along. Kofuku monopolized the TV and Daikoku would always threatened him if he so much as suggested that they changed the channel, so he wasn’t about to let the opportunity of watching his favorite drama go to waste.

It wasn’t until he was halfway through the show that he realized that Hiyori had sneaked off. Before Yukine could say anything, Yato grabbed him by the wrist and rushed out the door. Tracking her wasn’t too difficult. He remembered the line she got on the last time so all he really had to do was teleport himself to the train.

This time, he made sure to keep a good distance away from her (since she had an uncanny ability to detect his presence) and be as discreet as possible. It was a little difficult given Yukine’s constant scolding and complaining but they did manage to follow her undetected as she got off the train and moved across the streets. She turned left to a corner that wasn’t as busy, ducking past people and moving towards a bridge that lead to a—

“A shrine?” Yukine said.

Keep reading

Soulmates - Calum Hood [au]

Requested - yes

Anonymous - “Can you please do a soulmate!Calum imagine? You can decide which soulmate thing you want to use though :) I.e. soulmate tattoos or hearing your soulmates thoughts etc. I love your writing btw :) x”

A/N: I’ve heard of loads of soulmate aus the tattoo one, one about scars and then there’s the countdown one, I’ve never seen the thoughts one before so that’s what I chose

Word Count - 868

If he’s hurt, you know. If he’s happy, you know. And if he’s sad, you know. In fact, you know pretty much his every thought, that’s just how it works. It starts from about the age of 3, just voices in your head, and by the age of 7 it’s overpowering, you hear every single thing they think but by 10 you learn to control it, you’re able to tune in and out of their thoughts unless they’re like the skilled few who learn how to lock their thoughts away, like you. There are a few theories about who’s thoughts you hear, some say it’s some long lost relative, others say they’re people in other worlds but most common is the idea that they’re your soulmate’s, that’s the one you’ve been told for years. ‘Soulmates’ are also the most believable theory considering there are a good 100 people on earth that claim to have found their thought partners or whatever you want to call them, and all of them have fallen in love. Thing is you’re not sure you believe in soulmates but that doesn’t mean you don’t care about this guy on the other end of your thought waves.

Over the past few weeks things have been getting tough for you, losing friends, being bullied, not to mention your 'soulmate’ constantly bragging their perfect friendships. It’s surprising how much you know about this guy without even knowing his name, people don’t often think in third person. He has a sister called Mali, friends called Luke, Michael and Ashton and he seems to have some kind of obsession with music.

“How’s today going?” your mum asks when she get’s home from work.

You sigh, “Like usual, he won’t shut up,” you tap the side of your head.

“You can shut him off honey,” she laughs lightly.

“It’s not as easy as that, my default is set so I hear him and I’ve not got enough energy to keep him quiet all the time,” you tell her.

She pats your shoulder reassuringly, “Just remember, careful what you think”

You go to bed that night with his words flooding your ears so you put all of your left over energy into building a wall blocking thoughts from both sides.

The next morning you’re ill, very ill in fact, so much so that you can’t move from your bed, you’re sweating and physically sick. Your mum makes a home doctor’s appointment and, while your safely asleep, he checks you over to give you a diagnosis.

“She’s mentally strained,” the doctor says just as you wake up.

“What does that mean?” your mum questions.

“Has she been blocking out… the thoughts?” the doctor asks.

“Yes I told her to,” she adds.

“No, like stopped person b from listening to her?” he continues.

“Yes, I have, he’s exhausting me,” you groan.

“There’s your problem, her body doesn’t want her to be blocking like this, every now and then fair enough, but so extremely it’s unhealthy, if you want to get better [Y/N] you have to stop,” he turns to you.

“He’s nosy, I don’t want to,” you debate.

“I understand that,” he proceeds. “but from a medical stand point… turn off the safety barriers”

You are left alone after that, with your guards up, but after one particularly violent puking spell you lower your defence and allow yourself a rest, that’s when the voices come in a little differently.

'Let me in, I know you’re hurting’

He’s talking to you and so you talk back, 'How do you know I’m hurting? You couldn’t hear me’

'Exactly how I know you’re hurt. Are we talking?’ he responds.

'I guess so, I didn’t know this was possible, I’m [Y/N],’ you tell him, overcome by a relief and relaxation.

'I’m Calum’

You talk to him for a while learning the basic information that you missed out on in the time that you were getting to know every intimate detail of each others’ lives, hell he even knows your time of the month.

'I’m scared to ask this,’ you begin to think, 'since there’s a perfectly good chance that we’re a million miles away from each other but, where do you live?’

'Sydney, Australia’

You let out a loud sigh, 'That is a just a little out of my reach’ a good few plane journeys across the country to be exact.

'Not to worry, one day we will be together, we are supposedly soulmates afteral’ you can practically hear him chuckle.

'Keep in touch, Cal’

That’s all you can do from that point onwards, keep in touch, though it’s not like you really get the choice, you two just possess the ability to converse through your thoughts. All your problems seem to melt away when you talk to Calum, he just understands everything in a way no one else does and it makes nothing but him matter.

'Still want to meet up?’ Calum asks one unexpected afternoon.

You jump, thinking he’s in the room, recently your connection has been stronger, he’s been able to get through to you even when you chose not to listen.

'What do you mean?’ you respond.

'I have a plan’


add me on snapchat - brodie5sauce (and make sure you pester me too because I love getting messages on there and I enjoy to annoy you with story updates)


domestic bliss - 1/1

for bamon day - domestic!au… although the au part of it is more like i ignored canon in the way of everything that went weird at the end of season 7, and don’t mention elena or enzo at all, lol

read: ao3 | ffnet
polyvore: bonnie


Stefan wasn’t sure what to expect when he returned home to Mystic Falls after spending the last year and change living in Dallas, but a small part of him was surprised the boarding house was still standing. Duffel bag hanging at his hip, he pushed the front door open and walked inside.

“Hello…? Damon…?

The house looked much the same as it always had. Maybe a little brighter, with the curtains thrown open in the parlour and better lamps in the hallway. Some of the furniture even looked to be updated.

Stefan had talked to his brother periodically over the last year, checking in to see how he was doing, how the town was holding up, if he’d managed not to cause irreparable damage to anyone or anything. For the most part, things sounded good, but Damon had a way of pretending he had no part in something he probably started. Mystic Falls had always been a beacon for the strange and dangerous, and Damon had shared more than a few stories of something going wrong. But, from what Stefan could tell, it wasn’t anything his brother couldn’t handle.

“In the kitchen,” Damon called out.

Making his way down the hall, Stefan caught the scent of frying bacon wafting in the air, intermixed with the rich smell of coffee. He stepped through the doors to find Damon at the stove, flipping pancakes. A bowl of blueberries and sliced strawberries were in reach, alongside a tall can of whipped cream.

“Hey, brother. You want one? I made extra.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” Stefan eyed the set-up dubiously. “Do you have a guest I should be aware of or…?”

“Bonnie’s catching a shower before work.”

Keep reading

Peter shifts his feet in the grass, pushing and pulling the blades as he moves. His legs are too long to be in this swing. He sighs heavily. This is one thing, the one thing, that he never thought he’d be doing. In fact, it hadn’t even occurred to him. But he has $247 in his hoodie pocket that crinkles when he swings and he’s waiting on someone he’s usually glad doesn’t show up. Deadpool.
[This is a huge risk.] he thinks to himself. [What if he recognizes my voice?]
It’s too late to back out, he realizes when he sees the all too familiar red and black silhouette approaching him. Deadpool dusts the seat of the swing off, sits down, kicks his feet out, and speaks “Spidey’s not gonna like this.”
Peter snorts, “I wasn’t planning on telling him.”
If Deadpool recognizes him, he doesn’t say so. “Oooh, you’re going on the naughty list this Christmas, Peter Parker.”
“You’re Santa? I feel like my childhood’s getting ruined all over again.” Peter digs his heels into the ground. This was a bad idea. His worst, maybe. “Aren’t you curious why you’re here?”
Deadpool shrugs, which Peter barely catches because the merc is whooshing past him, swinging hard enough to make the frame creak. “I know why I’m here.” He catches himself on the ground with his feet and skids to a stop beside Peter. “To service you.” There’s a lilt in his voice and Peter imagines the eyebrow waggle he’s sure is happening behind the mask.
Peter sighs. “I tried my best, my absolute best not to hire you.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Every conversation ended with “Look, kid, my rate’s too high for you, but I know someone who-”. For someone who’s an ass to the hero world, you’re a hero to the ass world.“
Deadpool giggles. "Ass world. My home planet, where I belong.” He pushes back and swings high, “My planet needs me!~~~”
Peter laughs, despite feeling generally awful and not having slept well in weeks. He hates that Deadpool is the most common cause of him-well, Spider-Man, laughing these days. “But before you return to your planet, my life is being threatened and I’d like to deal with that.” He says when Deadpool stops next to him again.
“Business, business, business. I see why you and Spidey get along.” Deadpool pouts. “How many people are out for you?”
“At least six.” Peter replies, “Sitting in cars outside my apartment all day in vans with tinted windows, harassing my landlord for apartment openings, going through my mail.”
“And you can’t get your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to help with this?” Deadpool says, sounding a bit surprised. “Seems right up his alley, especially since it’s you.”
“My neighbor, nice old lady who I bought groceries for a bunch of times, called the police about the vans. Yesterday she was shot in her apartment. I don’t need Spider-Man, I need you.” Peter trains his eyes on his shoes. The ground beneath him is torn up from his fidgeting.
“Ohhh, so you want them to be not alive.” Deadpool says.
“No, I don’t want that. I’m worried that’s what it’s coming to.” He sighs again. It’s become how he breathes lately. “And no one followed me here, which is a good indicator that they know exactly what I’m doing.”
“You can’t go home, then.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. So, put myself up at a motel, that’s-” he calculates in his head and groans. “I’m too broke to have this happening to me.”
“You’re gonna stay with me until this is over.” Deadpool says, and Peter’s eyes widen.
“No, no-no. No, no. That-that’s not a good plan.” Peter stammers. It’s going to be hard enough keeping his identity secret just hiring Deadpool, but living with him? No way it stays secret.
“It’ll be fun~ like a sleepover! You can invite Spidey if you want. The three of us could all sleep in my bed.” He trails off, more mumbly, and laughs to himself in a sultry sort of tone that prompts Peter to kick his shin.
Which is a bad move, in retrospect. Peter Parker should be afraid of mercenaries, not acting like he’s known the guy for years and knows he’s actually a huge dork. Deadpool doesn’t act like it’s out of the ordinary. “He wouldn’t come.”
“Right, busy shoving that stick even farther up his ass and not even in a fun way!” He holds out his hand, “You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, more serious than anything he’s said the entire time they’ve been sitting here.
“How much is this going to cost?” Peter asks wearily. He shakes the merc’s hand anyway.
“Don’t worry about it, we can work something out later.” Peter’s hand tightens on Deadpool’s, half in fear for the first time that night. “Whoa, calm down- Not-not like that. Like a credit sort of deal. Bang bang now, pay later-wait, shit. We won’t have sex in exchange for services.” He says carefully.
Peter’s face turns beet red and he lets go of the other’s hand. “What-um…what now?”
“Well, now I take you somewhere safe, and I go and do what you hired me to do. Then you go home and pretend that I’m solely responsible for the dead people.” Deadpool says, “I mean, I guess. I don’t know what most people who hire me do after I’m done. Maybe it’s more fun than I’m imagining.” He shrugs.
“I need to get some things from my place.” Peter says.
“Then I gotta come with you.”

frank-zhang-sonofmars  asked:

Drabble Percbeth stuck indoors during a blizzard

“I’m actually afraid of what’s going to happen when we exhaust our supply of Harry Potter novels,” Annabeth says, throwing a piece of popcorn at Percy and watching as he gracefully catches it, chewing satisfactorily.

“I think the nearer concern is running out of light to read them with,” he muses, throwing another one at her. “Anyways, as I was saying-” He clears his throat, trying to read more, but Annabeth cuts him off.

“Should we be going outside?”

Percy looks up, crinkling his nose at the window, which displays one of the most intense flurries of snow either of them have ever seen.

“Why, exactly?”

He looks intensely cosy, snuggled into a hoodie from the CUNY he had attended and wearing red plaid sweatpants that slide over two white socks, doubled up on his feet. She gets why he doesn’t want to move at any point.

“To experience nature,” Annabeth replies, not believing it even as she says it. “Ugh, never mind. This is a shitstorm. Give me another chapter.”

Percy begins to read again, launching quickly into an accent that’s only a little terrible, compared to how terrible she had expected it to be. From her spot on the couch, she can watch his finger move over the words on the page, concentrating hard on it. He’s sprawled out across the floor, lying on top of a blanket while Annabeth has one curled around herself.

He knows the words nearly by heart– most people in their generation do– but Annabeth hadn’t been exposed to anything like this until she was an adult. She hadn’t grown up in the same sense that other kids had. Perhaps that’s why they had spent a large part of their Honeymoon sitting in their hotel room, eating candies (Percy stole anything blue from her, even when she wanted it) and watching the Harry Potter movies for Annabeth’s first and Percy’s billionth time. He’s always been antsy, but he can sit still sit through it.

There’s something magical about magic that isn’t their own. Even now, when Annabeth is wearing her favorite green fuzzy socks and a hoodie that she’d stolen from Piper, she feels like the words Percy is reading are transporting her to another universe.

She’s really grateful for it, because the universe they’re in currently involves thickly falling snow and Annabeth doesn’t want to think of all the work that is on the desk at her office. Or the fact that, later tonight, they’re not going to have light or heat. It’s much easier to feel like she’s walking the cold stone hallways at Hogwarts.

“We need tea,” she decides, interrupting Percy. “What kind do you want?”

He shuts the book.

“Vanilla caramel,” he says, smacking his lips slightly. Annabeth throws of her blanket and lets it land on top of Percy, covering his head and most of his body. He moves around exaggeratedly underneath it, spluttering pointedly when he emerges from under the dark plaid, looking thoroughly annoyed.

“Be right back,” Annabeth tells him, trying not to grin at his face, but Percy shakes his head and scrambles up with her, following her to the kitchen.

The kitchen of their tiny apartment overlooks… another apartment. It’s very glamorous. They can see their neighbors sitting around their kitchen table with two redheaded children, all focusing very hard on a game of rummikub. Percy waves when little Marisa looks up and notices him, her face lighting up when she sees him. Marisa is smiling because she’s out of school, but Annabeth is smiling because of the way his wedding ring is glinting in the sunlight.

“It’s a miracle we can see them with all this snow,” notes Annabeth, putting the kettle on the stove and taking a seat at their kitchen table. She picks up the mail, sorts through it, then wrinkles her nose when she sees a few bills that she is absolutely not in the mood to pay.

“I think it’s thinning, actually,” Percy says, squinting at the outdoors.

“It’s not thinning,” replies Annabeth without looking. “Did you hear the news? We’re not going to be able to leave this building until tomorrow.”

“Will the generator at least come back soon?”

Annabeth shrugs.

“I may be highly intelligent, but I don’t have the answers to everything.”

“I know,” Percy grumbles. “If you did, you’d tell me where my Pink Floyd t-shirt is.”

Well, she actually does know where that is, but she’s not planning on telling him.

“We’ll be fine,” says Annabeth as the kettle begins whistling and Percy steps over it it to turn the burner off. “We’ve got plenty to do. Our laptops still have battery, right, so we can always marathon something if we can’t get to sleep.”

“Huh,” says Percy, “that is a conundrum, isn’t it?”

“What is?” she asks, looking up from the mail, because anything that would make Percy Jackon use the word ‘conundrum’ has to be good.

“Well, we’re not going to have power. And, in this scenario, we aren’t going to be able to sleep, you say? And we have all this time to do absolutely nothing? What will be fill it with?”

“Didn’t I just say we could mara-?”

“What if our laptops run out of charge?”

She starts to say how unlikely that is, but then she sees how hard he’s trying not smile, and she sets down the mail, not caring when it scatters across the table.

“Oh no,” says Annabeth, “we aren’t going to be that cliche.”

“What?” he frowns.

“Do you know how many babies are conceived during snowstorms? Do you seriously want to have sex while everybody in New York is also having sex?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation.

Annabeth sighs.

“Fine. You’ve worn me down.”

“Thank god,” says Percy, sitting at the table next to her and leaning across it to give her a kiss on the lips before handing Annabeth her mug. “So we’ll just finish reading the entire Harry Potter series and then go have sex?”

“Sure,” replies Annabeth. “That seems plausible.”

She has to smother her laugh into her mug when Percy nods enthusiastically and beams.

A Simple Thing

Pairing: Nanocoffee

Rating: G - General fluff and stuff

Lalna had always had trouble sleeping.

Read on AO3

Ever since he was little, he would be always be up till all hours of the night reading, or thinking, or playing with bits of machine parts that he found.  His brain was simply too loud to allow him to rest for more than a few hours and thus he had very quickly fallen into a cycle of falling asleep whenever he felt like it and waking up whenever he did and continuing on whatever project he had been working on before he had taken his nap.

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‘I’m a writer and when it gets close to my deadlines I neglect taking care of myself so you’ll pop in my house every so often to make sure I’m doing okay’ AU

“No no NO!” Cas growls low in his throat, furiously pressing the backspace button in an effort to clear the offending words off the screen. It’s official, I cant write for shit. Sighing, Cas leans forward, putting his head in his hands. I may as well quit now while I’m ahead. 

4 weeks. 4 weeks is the deadline. To say that the book is almost ready, would be a complete and utter lie. Cas has written 18 chapters of a planned 24 chapter book. He planned it. He planned every chapter to a T. Yet somehow he managed to mess it up! In addition to the 6 chapters he’s yet to finish, there’s the editing and proof reading to be done. And obviously because Cas is so damned indecisive, he’d change things at the last minute, leaving no time at all to proof read again.

Cas’s eyes start to tear up at the thought. He’d worked so hard to get this far, he’d absolutely loath himself if he fails due to his own stupidity. This is the last book of the trilogy, it needs to go out with a bang. Maybe I need a bang… When was the last time he- oh right, when he started writing this god forsaken book. Cas had given up his social life (not that he had much of one to begin with). He’d given up everything to commit to being an author. His boyfriend at the time, Balthazar was less than impressed. Cas still winces at the names that had been thrown his way when they’d broken up. He couldn’t exactly blame Balthazar of course, it was his fault. Cas was the one who left, not Balth. Cas was the one who took their 3 years together and flushed it down the drain.

Reaching up to brush away the wetness from his cheeks, Cas sits back in his chair. God, he was such an awful person.

“Hey, how’s my buddy doin’!”

Cas groans. No, it’s not Monday yet is it? Dean’s not supposed to be here until Monday. He didn’t even hear the front door open. Sinking lower into his chair and planting his cheek of the cool wood of his desk, Cas bites his lip in an effort to control his emotions. He’s not crying in front of Dean. No way. He just needs to write this book then sleep forever.

“Cas?” Dean calls out from what Cas assumes is the kitchen. Much to Cas’ lack of enthusiasm on the idea, Dean always buys extra groceries just in case he’s too focused on his writing and hasn’t gotten out of the apartment. And no matter how many times Cas offers him money for the food, Dean brushes it off.

“Cas, man?” 

Oh god hes at the door. Maybe if I stay quiet hell think I’m not here.

“Cas, I know you’re there.”

Damn it. “Go away.” 

“I hate to break it to you J. K. Rowling but I aint leaving.”

“If only I could write half as good as her…” Cas grumbles under his breath, tears forming in his tired eyes once more.

A long silence follows and Cas hopes Dean left. He doesn’t need to be here. Its not like it could be fun for Dean, looking after a stupid, worthless piece of crap writer that cant tell what day it is if it was painted on the back of his hand.

“…I heard that.”

Cas shifts, putting his arms on the desk and places his forehead in the crook of his arm.

“I- I’m coming in okay?” 

Before Cas could protest, Dean’s opening the door. Light from the hallway illuminates the entire study and Cas buries his face in deeper, curling in on himself.

Dean sighs at the sight before him. Paper strewn everywhere, cups of coffee - with coffee still in them - have fallen over the desk to the hardwood floor. And there, in the middle of the room slumped over his desk is Cas. How did he manage to trash the entire room in 2 days? 


“Go away, Dean.”

“I just want–”

“NO! Okay.” Rising his head, Cas looks directly at Dean. “No, just leave me alone so I can get this done without losing my mind.”

“But Cas–”

“STOP! Just stop! I know I’m incapable of looking after myself. I know and at this point I don’t care. I haven’t got a speck of dust in my head let alone a brain, so don’t come in here and pretend that everything IS FUCKING ALRIGHT! Its not alright! You being here… makes it worse because you distract me. I hate looking like a dumbass amateur writer, who has the vocabulary of a 12 year old in front of you!”

Cas’ eyes widen as realisation hit him. Who he was talking to. “Oh my god…”

How could he say that? To Dean. The one person who’s stuck with him through his ups and downs? 

“Well…” Dean swallows around the lump in his throat, eyes downcast. How could Cas think of himself that way? “Just for the record, that’s not what I think of you at all. Far from it.”

Lowering his head, Cas let the tears fall silently while wringing his hands. He cant believe he said those things. He’s never raised his voice before. Dean strides over to where Cas sits, kneeling down to his level. Pulling him in close, Dean wraps his arms around broad shoulders. This was not what Dean had planned when he walked through his door but he couldn’t leave Cas alone after that little speech. He had to touch him. Reassure him. 

Cas immediately clutched at Dean. This is what he wanted. He wanted comfort. He was confused however, that Dean had chosen to stay. Even after what he had said. And even more amazingly, Dean didn’t see him that way. Didn't see him how Balthazar had.

“I’m sorry…” Dean sighs against Cas’ shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Cas. I didn’t realise.”  His arms were tightly wrapped around Cas, rocking him slowly back and forth.

“No, Dean. I’m sorry.” he sobbed. “I sh-shouldn’t have said what I- what I s-said–

“Shh Cas, Its okay.” Smoothing his hands down the older mans back in soothing motions, Dean gently pulls back. Afraid he was leaving, Cas’ hands clung tighter. “Look at me.” Pulled back far enough, he tipped Cas’ face up and gently cupped his jaw. “You are an amazing author Cas. Amazing. I’ve read all your books and you are unbelievable at writing. I don’t know why you think you’re not, but Cas–”

Dean brushes the residual tears that streaked Cas’ face, lingering when his thumb drags across the top of his cheekbone. A faint blush blooms on Cas’ cheeks and neck under the attention. Bringing his other hand up to Cas’ face, Dean strokes his cheeks softly, reveling in the heat of the blush and slight roughness of his stubble.


“–you will never seem that way to me.” Dean places a soft tentative kiss against his jaw. “You are smart.” Another kiss “You are witty.” Another “You are gorgeous.” And another “And did I mention how fucking smart you are?”

Cas sniffs and lets out a small chuckle. “Yes.” Cas’ lips turn up into a watery smile, leaning into Deans touch. His hands still caressing his cheeks, lips just inches away. “Multiple times in fact.”

“Well there see, its the truth.” They both fall silent after that. Cas reveling in the attention Deans giving him. He hasn’t felt like this since… ever. Not even with Balthazar.

“You’re like my guardian angel, you know that?”

“Oh no. I’m not the angel here…” Dean closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Cas’ “More like just a person who cares.” Sliding his hand down strong arms, Dean grasps Cas’ hands, interlocking their fingers. “A lot.”

“Now when you say ‘a lot’…”

“Oh no.” Dean leans back and places his lips sweetly to Cas’ plump ones. “I cant tell you that until you’ve eaten something decent.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll make a pie?”

Cas raises a brow. Just a person who cares my ass. This man is an angel. Cas just hopes one day, he could be like that. An angel. Dean’s angel…