it suites her so much she looks gorgeous

Girlfriend! Jennie

~For anon!~ I hope you like it!

•Would be so protective of you
•Not in a bad way
•But would make sure you are safe
•Concert dates
•She’d buy you a cool band T-shirt and force you to wear it cause it suits you
•"Shut up and wear it, you look gorgeous in it okay? For me?“
•Sometimes you would go to a rock concert with her, or an acoustic set, both are just as perfect as long as you are by her side
•I feel like shopping isn’t a chore when its with Jennie
•She would compliment you so so much
•It would become second nature
•Ohhhhh
•Raps
•Just 4 u
•She’d rap in her YG showcases and it would be so obvious that she’s rapping about you and only you
•She would give you eye contact from across the room making you blush
•With a bit of sexual tension I’m sure

Originally posted by jiminboi


•You would share each others clothes
•Constantly
•Especially hoodies cause thats what Jennie lives in when she’s in the dorm
•She’d get so mad if you ruined them tho
•"I don’t care if you only got milk on it!“
•She wouldn’t be mad for long though cause u look so attractive in just the hoodie and shorts
•In addition to clothes, I think you’d do each others makeup
•Either in a funny way or a deadly serious ‘might actually use this contour for a stage’ way
•The silly makeup sessions are the best tho cause you’d both take the piss out of each other and laugh so hard until you hurt
•SPONTANEOUS HUGS
•LotS OF ThEM
•But not so many in public tho, more hand holding and waist holding whilst walking in town
•Which is perfectly fine cause it slightly turns you on anyway
•This might seem really random but
•I feel like she’d be so forgetful
•She would call you and say something like
•"Babe I forgot my keys and I’m stressing out”
•But then you would find them in the bathroom like
•"Not again"

Emmzy~

Originally posted by taehnwnho

Can we all appreciate how flawless Shelagh looked here??

 Random thought of the day: *Shelagh/Laura with this shade of blonde hair was like my fav thing* BUT FOR REAL - can Shelagh be allowed to wear lipstick again? She looks so perfectly pretty I die! 

Her wardrobe is slowly but surely getting better (like thank god that brown suit is gone) but there was a couple times in series 3 her makeup was more noticeable and I loved it & I’m hoping she starts that up again. I mean either way she is gorgeous but it’s always nice to change it up. Also, she better not wear anymore blue for a while. She looks fabulous in blue + I’m sure it was to foreshadow baby Teddy but damn, no one needs to wear that much blue. So basically they need to give Shelagh everything she deserves: a better wardrobe * at least to match her gorgeousness*, actual friends, another tube of lipstick, scenes besides ones with her husband/family, etc..

#LetShelaghLive2k18/1963 

anonymous asked:

Hc how the gang would react to their girl in a bathing suit?

Yo I just got so many things sent I gotchu

Ponyboy:
•this nervous little motherfucker
•he’s seen her in bath suits before but this particular one…
•jaw drops
•"whoa..you look… whoa.“
•he can’t handle it
•absolutely speechless

Sodapop:
•he loves it
•probably helped pick out the bathing suit tbh
•won’t stop talking about it
•"man I have some good taste..”
•"your butt looks gorgeous babe.“
•takes pride in his choices

Darry:
•he’s pretty casual about it
•a bit more touchy though
•expect compliments
• "that bathings suit looks reallllllly good on you.”
•but him his head it’s a hold different story
•nUT

Dally:
•there’s nothing he loves better then a girl in minimal clothing
•butt compliments, boob compliments, leg compliments
•has his arm around her so everyone knows that she’s his girl
•vvv touchy
•"the things I would do to you"
•^says this like a billion times while staring at her

Johnny:
•oh it’s bad
•he is all about his girl in a bathing suit
•"she looks great in a bikini *wink wink*“
•definitely asks her if she could leave it on forever at some point
•bONER
•he’s a v sexual boi
•thinks she looks very hot

Steve:
•he thinks she’s gorgeous
•but he’s a bit uncomfortable bc he doesn’t want other guys hitting on her
•so he never lets her out of his sight
•touches her butt so much
•gives her lovin’
•also wants to keep her safe from those bad boizzz™

Two-Bit:
•gets a bit horny
•he thinks her butt and boobs look phenomenal… but those leGS
•he has a thing for legs
•very handsy
•"you are smokin”
•^probably a pun but I’m not good at those

People are always having headcanons about Clarice cooking things like box mac and cheese and ramen noodles and stuff or wearing old cheap shoes or wearing her pajamas all day and Hannibal being annoyed, but sometimes I’m not sure we’re invisioning the same Clarice Starling.

This is CLARICE STARLING we’re talking about– The girl who longed for style and elegance even when she couldn’t have it.

The girl who hid away secret style magazines, the girl who saved up money to buy herself a good bag, the girl who bought herself party clothes but they ended up unused in a closet, looking sad. The girl who was proud that the style of her shoes had improved since Lecter had last seen her. 

Like, if Clarice is making box mac and cheese for Hannibal Lecter it is going to be the best damn mac and cheese he’s ever tasted because she used exotic spices in it and served it on rare bread or something. Ramen noodles? Only if he dared her to prepare some that actually tasted good– otherwise I doubt she’d ever touch the stuff. 

Clarice Starling isn’t going to be wearing cheap shoes EVER AGAIN if she can help it– No, she’s going to be wearing the most expensive shoes out there and she and Lecter will agree that they are perfect. 

Clarice in pajamas? No, she is going to buy herself gorgeous gowns and ask her Hannibal if they look good on her, and sometimes he’s going to say that the cut doesn’t quite flatter her so then they’ll go out and buy her a new jacket to wear over it and then they’ll both agree that it looks much more elegant. Sometimes Lecter is going to ask her if his suit looks good and she’ll go, “With all due respect, Hannibal, I think it would look better in blue,” and then he’d agree and he’d wear the blue one instead.

We have to remember that Clarice was the girl with the good bag and the cheap shoes, “a well-scrubbed, hustling rube with a little taste” who “could only dream of getting out… getting anywhere… getting all the way to the FBI.”

When asked in Hannibal if it was true, she said that at least her shoes had improved since then. 

Without a doubt one of the worst parts of my job is when beautiful dark skin customers sheepishly ask me if we carry any products for lightening the skin. First I tell them that they have lovely skin and that we don’t sell skin bleaching products. Then they laugh it off and say “No not for bleaching, for cleansing.”

For cleansing yourself of what? Your race?! This happened again today. A beautiful young woman wearing a killer outfit and a hijab asked me for creams and cleansers that would make her skin lighter. I cringed immediately and my heart sank. She had a friend with her that was only a shade or two lighter but she also smiled eagerly and waited for my answer so she could translate it better. 

I told them we had a few products that made the skin “brighter” but not lighter. They begged me to show them the products but we were already closing and I said that I couldn’t. 

I wish I could have snapped a picture of them. The darker girl had such a chiseled jaw line and smoldering eyes. She reminded me of what Iman probably looked like as a young girl. She was wearing a 2 piece pant suit in navy with gemstones on the pointy shoulders and a bright colored hijab that framed her elegant face. Her skin was so smooth and totally flawless. I doubt she was even wearing concealer. 

They bought a few products and as they walked out I thanked them and reminded them of how much I liked their skin.

I die a little inside each time a gorgeous dark skinned person asks me about lightening creams. 

anonymous asked:

Great let's talk about it: Alessia &Shawn were buddies during the time he wrote Illuminate and what I saw of him it seemed like he really liked her but tried to play it cool (remember the snapchats of him seeing her in a restaurant) and he talked about her in a lot of interviews (even with cannoli) about like stuff she said/ liked (for example that for her his album is the color blue)& the line 'she's not even drop dead gorgeous' reminded me of her bc she's stunning but in a special way ya know?

I LOVED those snapchats they were actually so adorable. “Alessia is too cool to talk to me” or the “I texted her but she won’t look at her phone” or whatever he said. But it was sooo cute him trying to get her attention but she was there talking to guys in business suits omg. I don’t think they had much of anything but the idea of them flirting and going on a date is too much for me to handle because they would be the absolute cutest couple. ALSO BOTH CANADIAN SO = life complete.

anonymous asked:

Have anika's clothes im. Proved majorely postleap or is that just me

Nope, they have, overall! (Not counting whatever that weird yellow, half shirt thing was, the day she came back into OM.) Much more streamlined sleek silhouettes that suit her nicely. I loved yesterday’s black dress. She looked so gorgeous. 😍😍😍

Though I wouldn’t get too happy. Yesterday’s Instagram story had Surbhi wearing some kinda plaid off shoulder top that reminded me of the yucky sangeet episode outfit. Who knows when and where Shirali will launch a stealth attack our poor, unsuspecting eyes? 😞😞😞

Masquerade, every face a different shade (Lin x Reader)

PART 4 of Do you have an idea?

Anon: could you write an imagine where Lin and the reader spend Halloween at a costume party?

I am going to write a Halloween imagine but when Halloween comes, but I still wanted to use the costume party idea!

So, to re-cap; Lin and the reader are roommates who are both in Hamilton. After the reader has a tough breakup, she finds comfort in Lin, who is slowly falling in love with her. When the Hamilcast go on a night out, Lin and the reader end up extremely drunk, leading to an awkward situation in the morning. In the post, they both receive an invitation to a party, but what will happen next?

A/N: ALL OF THESE CHARCTERS ARE FICTIONAL! What they do when I write them is not a reflection of who they are as a person. You cannot take what you read from this fictional work and use it as an opinion against them!


Turning it round in your hands a few times, you bit your lip in thought as what to do. Do you ask Lin? He was gorgeous and you desperately wanted to, imagine how stunning the two of you would look! You were really falling for Lin, hard but you just couldn’t ask him yet.

“I think I might take this girl I met, Lucy. Yeah I had a date with her a couple of weeks ago” Or at all.

“R-Really?” Trying to make it sound as if you weren’t bothered, “I thought it was an invite only party.” You said as you read the dreaded words; YOU MAY BRING A PLUS ONE.

“No.” Lin pointed out the words, chuckling as met your gaze, “You can bring a plus one, so I’m bringing Lucy…if she’ll go with me. What about you?”

You ignored Lin’s questions, his words sinking to the bottom of your stomach. Immediately feeling a lump in your throat, you took a deep breath and coughed, gathering yourself again.

“I’m gonna go get dressed.” Wanting Lin’s shirt off you immediately.

“Make sure you put my shirt back!” Lin joked, hearing his laugh hurt so much more.

You pulled of Lin’s shirt and sat on your bed, curling yourself up into a ball and letting out a tiny sob before covering your mouth and holding your stomach. He couldn’t know, you sobbed, he’s happy with her.

A knock at the door shook you, you jumped off your bed and wiped your face, before clearing your throat, burying yourself in your wardrobe. The room was silent except for the clothes rail sliding across as you fumbled with outfits.

“So how do I ask a gi-“Lin stopped and looked you up and down before gathering himself, “You want me to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you in a second.” Fake laughter filled the room.

You waited until the door clicked and finally stopped crying, picking out a red plaid button up shirt, denim jeans and white converse.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were a little shaken. You wanted to be with Lin but you didn’t have the courage to say anything, and you just couldn’t. Why did you have to live together?

Sighing as you grabbed your phone, a text from Daveed lit up your phone:

Got a date to the Masquerade ball? Wanna go as friends? :D x

You thought for a second, and then you looked up. Lin was talking on the phone – to assumingly Lucy by the way he was smiling – and seemed taken. Forget it, you thought as you texted back ‘sure x’ and sent him what you would be wearing. He texted back a smirk and a laughing emoji, making you bad morning seem a lot brighter.

The days passed and eventually the dreaded day arrived. Lin looked dapper in his suit, making you go weak at the knees, and he had that silly phantom mask he could finally use! Vanessa – as much as you disliked her for taking him away from you – looked stunning, and, as hard as it was to accept, if she made him happy then she was okay. You had to learn to accept that.

Both Lucy and Daveed weren’t arriving for a while, so you decided to get changed and show Lin your outfit anyways. You were wearing (to keep this gender neutral you can pick from the two) a gorgeous peacock inspired dress, dark purple and black with feathers, that fell to the floor, complete with black glittery heels and stunning makeup/a tails suit, with a smart bow tie that made you look impeccably smart.

But your mask was the most beautiful thing, a dark purple/black mask with feathers and glitter around the cheekbones, it made your eyes look dark and alluring; the perfect mix of classy and sexy.

When you walked in, Lin went silent. You leaned against the bay window, admiring Times Square below, then you felt something on you, like a stare. Turning around, Lin was stood there, wide eyed, hands in pockets and eyes dark.

“Yo-u look, uhm, incredible, you look so good.” Lin ran a hand through his hair whilst he walked over to you, a silence filled the room.

“What about Lucy?” You smirked as you played with his tie, pulling it loose a little.

He placed his hand on your hips, pulling you closer into him. Lin’s mind was running free, you were right in front of him and he couldn’t control himself. Pushing you against the wall, he pressed his lips to yours, hard and rough, and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands roamed around his back, digging into his suit jacket. Then it hit you, why would he be kissing you if he didn’t like you?

You pushed him away, still keeping him close, sharing the same air, both breathless and craving more.

“Lin, do you love me?” You asked.

“Yes,” He whispered, breathless, he moved your head to look at him, “Yes, one hundred times, yes. I always have, since the second you turned up on my door with nowhere to go and big dreams I fell in love with the girl who knocked on my door soaked, a goofy smile and an audition for a show I wrote, I am so in love with you, I came to get you at two am and when I saw how hurt you were, I wanted to kill the person who hurt you.” He cried, “I love you. I love you. I love you. I am so in love with you.” He said in between kisses along your neck.

Then the door knocked, and Lin and you both looked at each other.

Looking at him to say ‘What are we going to do?’ before he spoke quietly, “We pretend. We pretend to go round with them; Daveed’s only going as a friend right?” You nodded, “Then I’ll – JUST A MINUTE – I’ll just tell Vanessa I wanted to go on a date, but now I’m not sure.” He nodded at his own suggestion, it was the only thing the two of you could do right now.

“Lin.” He turned towards you, those same eyes locking yours, “We need to talk later.” He kissed you on the cheek.

This party was going to be the hardest evening ever.

What a beautiful party. The venue was just like a ballroom, how Jasmine and Anthony could afford this you never knew, actually you did, they earned hundreds as John Laurens and Peggy Schyuler. You walked arm in arm with Daveed, who looked dashing in his matching outfit. The tables and chairs were set out around a giant dance floor, with people waltzing, like a kalidescope of colours, couples leaning into each other and slowly swaying to the music.

Seeing Lin made your heart flutter, he loved you and you loved him and that’s all that mattered right now, and after speaking to Daveed in the car about everything that had just happened (he was your best friend, he wouldn’t tell a soul) he understood, and agreed to buy you as much time with Lin tonight as he could. He was slurring when he was talking to Lucy…Oh god he was drunk!

When would this party be over? When would it end! All you could think was in a couple of hours time, you would be with Lin and everything would be fine.

How wrong you were.


The night was drawing to a close and soon people were leaving, you stayed behind for a while helping to pack up. Lin was nowhere to be seen, he had most likely gone home and was waiting for you, so you kissed Daveed goodnight and thanked him for a wonderful evening.

Walking as fast as you could, you raced up the stairs and your hand shook as the key turned in the lock. You swung the door open and your heart fell.

Lin was down on the couch, on top of a girl – Lucy – and laughing as he kissed her. Only when the door opened did he stop and look up at you, every ounce of his face plastered in regret.

You walked out into the corridor and cried every step down until you were outside in the nights air. Lin came running after you, catching up with you eventually. He tried to pull you in for a hug but you pushed him away, screaming at him as the rain fell on your tear-stained face.

“Do you have any idea?” You said in between tears, “Do you have any idea what you did? W-what your doing?!”

Lin attempted to speak but you cut him off, “I loved you. Oh god, I loved you. I was so stupid to love you!” You covered your face with your hands and sobbed.

“I-I’m drunk. This doesn’t stop me loving you, it was just-you looked so happy with Daveed.”

“But I’m not with him now am I? About to bang on the couch, are we? No, because I loved you Lin and I would never do something like that!”

Lin pulled your hands off your face before you yanked them away, balling them into fists at your sides. Getting up close to his face, you whispered something that would change everything:

“I loved you. But I’ll never love you again.”

You walked off down the road, the pavement wet beneath your bare feet, and cried. Opening the car door, you collapsed in your front seat and ignored Lin’s pounding on the window, begging you to let him explain. You wouldn’t. You drove off into the night, where? You didn’t know. You just had to get away.


What will happen now? Part 5 coming soon!

You want me to do what?

I know, I know, there hasn´t been a oneshot all week, but I´m feeling really down and I just couldn´t bring myself to upload something.
I hope that you guys will enjoy it anyways.
There also will be a new Part of roommates tomorrow and hopefully also on Sunday.

Thanks for sticking with me and send me Imagine Requests, please!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Length: 1943 Words

Warnings: none, major fluff, family reunion

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

Enjoy!

“You want me to do what?”, Dean asked in absolute astonishment.  It was a little funny, but given the background of your question, also rather sad.
“I want you to go to prom with me”, you repeated yourself.
He raised his eyebrows: “(Y/N), no offense, but you´re 28 years old, and as far as I remember you never even graduated from high school because you decided to fall hopelessly in love with a certain good looking hunter and became one yourself.”
This time you really laughed, but then slapped his arm: “This isn´t funny Dean.”
Your voice must have hinted that there was really something more to this rather silly request and so your boyfriend changed his attitude from cocky to concerned:
“Hey, is everything okay?”
You nodded slowly: “Everything´s fine.”
“Then what is this all about?”, he asked and pulled you down so you were sitting in his lap, and you immediately started playing with the hem of his shirt while telling the story.
“As you know, I didn´t leave on best terms with my family when I came to live with you ten years ago and haven´t spoken to them since.
I figured that that was it, that I simply had no family anymore and that was fine, because I had you and Sam now, but a week ago, I got an email on my old account that I somehow never deleted.
My sister, Karen, she´s about eighteen by now, sent it to me and in it she told me about her graduation and that she´d love for me to come to her prom and that she wanted to see me again.
I´m not sure my parents know about this and at first I decided that it wasn´t worth all the pain and that I would never go, but then it somehow hit me that I could be dead by tomorrow and that I would never get to say I´m sorry, so I kinda changed my mind and now I really want to go.”
Your childhood hadn´t been exactly easy, you never fitted into the perfect suburban family picture your parents always wanted you to portray.
You had played guitar, wanted to go to art school and to become a famous guitarist.
Of course that would have never worked out, you knew that yourself by now, but somehow you always wished your parents would have supported you more in your crazy dreams.
But they were different, you were different, and so it started that you searched for something else and one day, when you were sitting in the parking lot of a local motel where you often stayed over night when your parents were too much to bear, you had met him, Dean Winchester.
You had been playing your guitar, a slow soft melody you had just made up, and he had come over to you and told you that it sounded great, that he liked your guitar and your music.
And that started the story of how you became a hunter, and now ten years later, you were deep down into problems you didn´t even know existed back then.
But still this was different, this was living, this was what you wanted.
Yet you sometimes missed your family, especially your little ten year old sister. She had always worshipped you.
Right now Dean was looking down on you, stroking over your hair: “I totally support you going there, you know I think family is super important, but…”
He stopped and you frowned, letting go of his shirt: “What?”
He sighed: “But I really don´t know if it´s a good idea for you to bring me. I mean I´m basically the reason you left your parents and for all they know I´m a drug dealing hobo who kidnapped their daughter.”
You shook your head: “Why are you saying this?”
“Because it´s the truth. You obviously can´t tell them what we really do because they would probably try to send you into the nuthouse and then what?”
You kind of knew that he was probably right, but this wasn´t an option for you:
“No Dean, you don´t get it. I want to see my family again, tell them I´m sorry that I left without saying goodbye, but you always are and always will be the most important thing in my life. And if they can´t deal with you or if they don´t like you, I don´t care at all, it´ll just show me how I right I was to leave them.
I know they are judgmental that they are difficult, but I don´t have to prove anything to them anymore.
I´m with you now, hell we stopped the apocalypse once so I guess we can do that too.”
His green eyes focused on you and after a while a smile spread across his face:
“I love you so much”, he whispered into your ear and you smiled before you kissed him.


Two months later, you were getting out of the Impala in front of your high school. It was the weirdest thing ever to be here again, see the walls you hated so much.
But before you could change your mind, get back into the car and drive to the bunker to sit in the library with a beer and think about something normal like angels, demons and vampires, Dean came up beside you, looking absolutely gorgeous in his suit, and took your arm:
“It´s going to be fine baby girl.”
You nodded but grabbed his arm really tight before moving towards the entry of the hall.
You had answered your sister, telling her that you would be there and that you would bring someone and if everything was okay.
She wrote you back immediately, telling you that it was fine if you brought someone and that she was great.
After that you stopped writing because it simply felt to awkward to talk to her after ten years, you barely even knew her anymore, she had been a kid when you left.
Right now you entered the hallway of the gym that was obviously used for the graduation ceremony and the desk guy asked you for your name.
Awkwardly you said your last name, which you barely used anymore. You were (Y/N), no affiliation to anyone besides the Winchesters.
The guy, obviously a junior who had volunteered and now regretted the decision, nodded and pointed towards another girl, who would apparently lead you to your table.
Your heart started beating like crazy and if hadn´t been for Dean, you would have probably fainted.
And then you suddenly saw a girl, blonde, with a nice blue dress and pretty much a shorter version of you, who was looking around.
“That´s her”, you said totally stunned.
Dean looked over to her to and nodded: “It´s pretty obvious.”
That was the moment she saw you and her face lit up, making you smile too while she made her way over to you.
“(Y/N)”, Karen whispered when she stood right in front of you and then you were hugging, crying and telling each other how much you missed each other.
When you were done with that, you just stood there in front of each other, wiping away tears and probably causing a dumb scene, but you didn´t care, this was just too important.
“Hi, I´m Dean Winchester”, your boyfriend suddenly said and you realized that you had totally forgotten about his presence.
He shook your sister´s hand and she smiled: “Hey Dean, I´m Karen, it´s really nice to meet you.”
Then she focused on you again: “Mom and Dad are sitting over there, they are thrilled to see you again, even if it doesn´t seem like it at first.”
The way she said this made it sound exactly like you had imagined it and you already braced yourself when Dean took your hand once again and said: “It´s going to be okay, I promise.”
While you walked over to the table, a thousand thoughts ran through your head, making you wonder what it would feel like to see them again, what they would say.
“You became so pretty, what happened?”, you teased your sister in order to calm yourself down.
Karen laughed: “Well, I finally took after you.”
That was such a nice compliment, that you didn´t know what to say and then you suddenly were standing in front of your parents, both of them facing towards you with their backs.
“Mom, Dad”, Karen said and they turned around at once, their faces in a total shock when they saw you.
“(Y/N)?”, your mother said as if she couldn’t quite believe that she saw you, “What are you doing here?”
That was when you knew that Karen hadn´t told them that you were coming, but maybe it was for the best, now you had the element of surprise on your side.
“Well, thought I can´t miss my sister´s graduation, can I?”, you said happier than you felt and then your mother hugged you, something she hadn´t done in twenty years.
“I can´t believe I get to see you again”, she whispered into your ear and suddenly you felt how fragile she was and really thin.
“I´m so sorry Mom”, was all you managed to say but she shook your head: “No, don´t say that, don´t be sorry, I´m sorry for what we did, I thought I´d never get to say that, but I´m sorry.”
Saying that out loud was like pushing a rock off your heart.
You started crying and you knew that you were ruining your make up, but what the hell?
When you parted from your mother again, your arms still touching, you saw that she was crying too, equally as upset about this.
“I´m glad you´re back”, she whispered and then you looked at your Dad, the one with whom you had gotten into most of the fights.
He didn´t look very emotional, but he never did, so he could possibly be thinking anything.
“Mom, Dad, this is Dean, my boyfriend.”
You had almost forgotten about Dean for the second time now, but when you shortly glance at him, you saw that he was smiling, obviously happy for you.
Suddenly your Dad stood up and stared at Dean: “Are you the guy who took her away?”
All of a sudden your heart started hurting again, maybe this was going to be a disaster after all.
“I am”, Dean just said, and it amazed you how calm and unaffected he looked.
For a second there was silence, everyone just waiting for your Dad´s reaction.
You had pretty much expected anything, from shouting to a punch in the face, but all he did was stretching out his hand and shaking Dean´s: “Thanks for taking care of my little girl when I couldn´t.”


The evening was fun and you even talked to your parents a bit. They asked a bit about what you were doing and where you were living now, but you kept it simple, told them that you were still playing guitar and lived with Dean and his brother in Kansas.
When the night was almost over, you slow-danced with Dean, your head on his chest.
“You only know that something has been wrong when it´s suddenly right”, you said and meant it. It had always felt like everything was fine, that you didn´t need to know what happened to your family.
But now you knew that you had been wrong.
“I´m so happy for you, sweetheart”, he said and kissed the top of your head.
“Thanks for coming with me”, you said and raised your head to kiss him.
“I love you too.”

OlicitySpotting: Wet ‘N’ Wild

(The water park) Minds out of the gutter people, they’re in public. ;)

I loved outoftheclosetshipper‘s idea for people spotting our duo out and about while they’re on their road trip. Since we’re waterpark people here in Arizona, this is my contribution. :)

Also on ao3

The girls are going around the lazy river for the third time, this time laying on their stomachs to get an even tan, when she sees the couple a little ways ahead of her. They’re on a single tube, the woman draped across the man’s lap, with her feet and the fingers of one hand dragging through the water.

Natalie is going on about some boy in her new math class, but Hannah can’t look away from the couple, specifically the blissful smile on the woman’s face. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone look quite that happy. They’re far enough away from the couple that when the man speaks she doesn’t hear his words, just a low pitched murmur. Then the woman is smacking him on the chest, her head tipping back, and she’s laughing so loud that Hannah can hear the melodic sound over all the other voices and water splashing around her.

Keep reading

Overwatch Modern AU: The Tailor

Taking place in my Modern AU world (aka “Coexisting”)
Originally I had no intention of continuing but in light of a certain comic coming out….

Read on Ao3 Here


Amelie didn’t mean to panic.

But she did. 

The voice on the other end barely had time to reply before she shouted,”Where are you?! Are you ok? You didn’t show up to our usual place and I swear to God if you-”

“Whoa whoa whoaaaa easy luv, relax I’m ok I just…got a little held up at work” 

Amelie immediately slowed her pace, she was taking long strides towards the small coffee shop with the intention of turning it upside down if it meant finding Lena but luckily that didn’t need to be the case. Her cheeks burned at her impulsiveness, “….right of course…”

Lena giggled, her playful tone instantly bringing a smile to her face though she fought it, “Aw….you worried about me?”

“Hmph, just making sure you’re not running off with another girl. I just finished burying the last one” 

“What can I say? That tip jar needs filling. Besides….I don’t think I’m going to run today” 

At this she stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, “…I’m sorry what” 

“Ah…yeah I just…it’s stupid but I’m ok I swear, I just don’t want to today” 

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Baby (N.M)

PART 2

PART 3

|based on the request: Can you do an imagine where Nate wants a baby?|

|1.9k words, ANOTHER NATE IMAGINE LMAO I HAVE IMAGINES FROM ONE HE FELL OFF OF HIS PENNYBOARD TO WRITE OH DEEEAR SORRY IM JUST BUSY, masterlist is in my description as peerr|

(edit: I accidentally made the title w/ Sam’s name bc I’ve posted 4 Sam’s in a row oops I’m sorry I’ve corrected to Nate)

One of my friends has just had a baby and today I’m going to visit her and meet the baby for the first time with my boyfriend, Nate. I dragged him shopping with me to get a gift for the baby and since then, he’s been pointing out pregnant woman in public and audibly ‘awing’ every time he sees a baby.

Nate Maloley has baby fever.

“Are you ready to go, babe?” Nate calls up the stairs. I push the backing of my earring onto the stud and spray some of the perfume Nate gave me over my neck and wrists. “Y/N!”

“I’m comin’!” I yell back, playfully rolling my eyes. “No need to friggin’ yell about it!” I check my outfit over in the mirror once more before leaving the room.

I look down the stairs at my boyfriend, “Well maybe if you hurried ya ass up, I wouldn’t be yellin’!” He tries to keep a straight face but fails, his dimple protruding through his smiley cheeks. “You look great, now let’s go.”

“God, you’re so desperate.”

He raises one eyebrow and stares at me, “Excuse me?”

“You’re literally so desperate to see the damn baby.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“The guys congratulated me on being pregnant.” I deadpan. “They think your newfound baby obsession is because I’m pregnant.”

He can’t stop himself from laughing, throwing his head back in utter shock and amusement. He claps his hands together as he laughs and when he’s done, he wipes under his eyes and let’s out a final sigh.

“Are you serious?” He asks with a smile, finally opening the front door and holding it open for me. I nod in response.

“Sam, John, Jack and Jack were arguing over who would be the best uncle.” It was pretty funny to witness because Sam was getting so worked up about it, I thought he was going to hit someone. “And Johnson then called the guys back in Omaha and a huge argument started… That’s when I told them I wasn’t pregnant.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let them all argue and ruin their friendships over an imaginary baby, but those boys sure do bring up a lot of dirt about each other.

Nate laughs again, but quietly because we’re outside, and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “So that’s why Sam was so pissed with me.”

We make our way down the 7 flights of stairs, joking and laughing about Nates baby fever and the idea of me being pregnant.

“You think I’m bad on my period? Just imagine me pregnant, babe. It’s like, ten times the amount of hormones than on my period, eating for 2, my stomach will be big, my boobs and ass will be growing, and I’ll be a moody bitch.”

I’m kind of scared of myself as a pregnant woman. My mood swings would be through the roof! We wouldn’t have to baby proof the apartment, it would already be Y/N proofed so I wouldn’t break anything in a hormonal rage.

Damn, if Nate ever knocks me up, be better watch his back.

“I could handle that.” He shrugs, dropping his arm from my shoulder and down to my waist.

“Maybe you could, but the boys would probably steer clear for 9 months.” Especially Sam.

“They’re all the youngest out of their families so they don’t know what it’s like to live with a pregnant woman.”

He’s really putting a lot of effort into what he’s saying, it’s like he planned out this conversation before it happened.

“Nate, you were a kid when your mom was pregnant with Stew.”

“I was still alive!”

“That’s different.” I argue, glancing up at his semi frustrated face. “She was your mom and she was pregnant with your brother. I’m your girlfriend and I’d be pregnant with your baby.”

His disgruntled mouth curls up into a short smile with his dimple poking through. “You’d look adorable pregnant.” His fingers dance along my hip, tucking themselves in the waist of my jeans. “The boys would spoil our kid rotten.”

“Yeah, and he or she would turn into the biggest brat of all time.”

Along with all of the presents from my family and Nates family (especially his mom because it would be her first grand baby), our baby would be a real brat who would expect everything and everything at a click of their finger.

I would honestly beat my kids ass if they were like that.

“Maybe we should have a baby and find out.” He stops walking when we get to his car, standing in front of his designated space.

“Nate, babe, I am not having a baby anytime soon.”

“But baaaaabe,” He whines, staring down at me with a pout. “We’d be the best parents ever.”

I shake my head and turn to face him. I lightly lean against the front of the car and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m 18, Nathan, I’m not going to risk losing the body I worked so hard for, just for it to be ruined and stretched out.”

“I know it’s a pretty weird request but I think we’d be really good parents, babe, and I think I’m ready for a baby.”

“Nate, listen to me okay?” I reach out and cup his jaw in my hands. “I think you need to actually think about what you’re saying right now. Babies are a lot of work! We would have to splash out cash here, there and everywhere and we’d never get any sleep. Neither of us would have any freedom to do what we want, when we want because we would have a kid that needs all of our love and attention 24 hours a day, 7 days a week!

“You’re already stressed out enough with making your music and performing and travelling and you wouldn’t be home that much. I’d be looking after the baby by myself while you’re out there living your dream and that wouldn’t be fair on me or the baby.”

Nate clenches his jaw and looks down at the pavement, dropping his arms from my waist and letting them dangle loosely by his sides. He keeps his eyes hooded and refuses to look at me.

“Nate, are you okay?” I ask quietly and he just shrugs. I sigh in defeat and drop my hands from his jaw. He quickly turns around and makes his way to the drivers side, leaving me standing alone. “I guess not.” I mutter and climb into the passenger seat.“

-


“What’s his name?” Nate asks my friend, Myleen, as I hold her little baby boy in my arms. She hasn’t told anyone the name yet, only her and her partners family, because she wants to keep it a surprise.

“Bodhi Gage.”

“That’s really unusual,” I comment, continuing to look down at the gorgeous baby boy. “It’s very whimsical.” The name totally suits Myleen’s personality.

“He looks so much like Toby.” Nate says, looking between Myleen and baby Bodhi. “He already has the jawline, doesn’t he?”

“And the hair,” I add. He’s only a few days old and he already has a full head of hair. “He’ll have a beard in no time.”

Myleen rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head with a little laugh. “Oh god, Victoria, you know, Toby’s mom, said that and now Toby is excited to teach his son how to shave.”

I can already see how much facial hair this baby is going to have by the time he reaches puberty. If he’s anything like his father, he’s going to be Chewbacca by the time he’s 19.

Myleen takes out her phone and snaps a quick picture of us holding her son, telling us that we look like ‘naturals’ holding him. When she says that, I can feel Nates eyes baring into my skin.

“You two look so good with a baby, it’s making my heart clench, when are you two finally gunna have one?”

I look up with a snorty laugh. “Not anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

“Aw, why not?” She whines, pouting slightly. “You both look so cute sitting with him and you’d make amazing adorable babies!” Please, can we not start this again?

Nate throws a hand into the hair in agreement and yells, “That’s what I was telling her!” I lightly hit his side and tell him to quieten down. He just rolls his eyes. “But she doesn’t want to give up her body just yet.”

“Nate, I’m 18, I don’t want to willingly have a baby just yet, I’m not ready for one. I’ve literally just become, what the law says is, an adult and I can’t even drink yet.” I argue out, adjusting the position of my arm to make Bodhi more comfortable. “Why would I want a baby when I haven’t been able to go out and party - legally - with my friends yet?”

I personally think that’s a damn good reason, but I shouldn’t have to argue or reason with anyone about this, it’s my damn body! I don’t want to carry a human inside of me and then push it out and be in pain for hours and hours at the age of 18. It’s not like I don’t want to have kids in the future, because I do, but I just don’t want to be a mom at 18.

Plus, my parents would murder me. And Nate.

“I just- I, we- fucking forget it then.”

In a huff, Nate slides off of the couch, sliding his hands into his pocket and heading towards the door. I just stare at him in disbelief.

“Nate!” He doesn’t bother replying, he just carries on walking with his head down. I carefully hand Bodhi back to his mom and make a rush for my over reactive boyfriend. “Nathan!” I grab onto his shoulder and swing him as best as I can to face me.

He refuses to look at me. I can feel his shoulder twitching under my hand, a small tic of his when he’s angry or upset, so I instantly remove it in hopes of it calming him the slightest bit down.

“Just stop, Y/N!” He yells, throwing his arms in the air. “We clearly want different things so I’m just trying to give you what you want!”

“So you’re just going to rush out and act as if I don’t exist?” He doesn’t answer. “We fucking live together, Nathan, we brought a fucking maisonette together! I think that was a pretty fucking huge step in our relationship!”

“I can always move back in with Sam and Swift, I have options.”

“Yeah, and I fucking don’t. I moved out here, for you. I have no friends out here. I’m skipping college to be here for you and you think breaking up is the best thing to do because I don’t want one thing you think you want?” He takes a step back and reaches for the car handle. “You’re really fucking selfish, Nate. Fine, lets break up and forget about every, single fucking thing I’ve ever done for you that sacrificed my own future.”

I sacrificed my entire life for him. I make every decision based on him and his schedule. I’ve skipped going to get a better education so I can be there, right by his side, to support him and his growing career. And he doesn’t seem to care.

What a fucking asshole.

His jaw clenches, along with his fists, in anger as he stares right at me, “Stop it, Y/N.”

“Stop what? Going through with another one of your decisions because that’s what you want?”

“You’re making me sound selfish.” He mumbles through his teeth.

“Because you fucking are! You’re a fucking asshole, Nate!” His eyes immediately glaze over and he stares at the ground in shame. He can’t even own up to his own mistakes and words. He’s a coward. “Fuck you, Nate Maloley.”

oceandrlve  asked:

10 + 24 with some adrienette would be eeeeeeeeeeeeee if you could do it please!

10. A Shy Kiss 24. Slow Dancing


The last thing Marinette ever expected was to be pounced upon by a harried Adrien at the Mayor’s Christmas party. She’d agreed to help out her parents serving their desserts, partly because they were incredibly short staffed due to the Mayor’s last minute addition of Tom and Sabine’s desserts, and partly because she’d known Adrien would also be forced to attend.

Although she’d made eye contact with him from across the room, and shared a smile or two, she’d been too busy to actually talk to him. So having him pounce on her and hearing him blurt, “Dance with me,” was a shock.

“What?” she squeaked, casting a startled glance at her parents.

Adrien cringed and released her wrist. Clearing his throat, he bowed. Staying bent at the waist he peeked up at her and said, “Marinette, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to a dance?”

Nerves fired, settling in her belly and making her queasy. She wanted to, so so badly, more than anything she wanted to share a Christmas dance with Adrien, but she was here on a job and she couldn’t just abandon her parents. “Umm… I’m working.” Something tugged her hips and Marinette glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who was busily betraying her by untying the strings of Marinette’s apron.

“Go have some fun,” Sabine said.

Smiling brightly, Adrien held out his hand for Marinette and she, heart pounding and knees struggling to hold herself up, placed her hands in his.

He pulled her out into the floor and into the throe of dancers— a slow dance, with Adrien, oh my gosh she was going to implode— heading toward the middle before he stopped. Turning back to her, he smiled sheepishly. “You look very pretty.”

Her cheeks went red at the unexpected praise. It was a simple black dress with a flared skirt, she hadn’t expected to dance or have fun, but still wanted to look both nice and professional. “Thank you. You-you look pretty- I mean handsome- gorgeous- ahh-?”

She’d never seen him in a suit before, not one like this. First time she’d seen him, she nearly embarrassed herself completely by drooling.  She pressed her lips together, refusing to embarrass herself more.

“Thanks.” Smiling, he stepped closer and directed her hand to his shoulder, while his other rested on her waist.

Marinette went bright red and had to suppress a noise which sounded much like a tea kettle.

“Is this okay?”

She couldn’t speak, or that tea kettle noise might escape, so she nodded furiously.

His other hand took her other wrist, directing it up to his neck before that hand slid to the small of her back. “It’s a slow dance,” he said as they swayed from side to side. “It’s okay if you get close.”

Nope, the tea kettle noise was going to come out her ears soon.

She struggled for something to say. Opening her mouth, the words died in her throat as Adrien sighed and rested his cheek against her head. “This is nice.”

She was going to implode. She really was. A walking cuddle at the Mayor’s Christmas party, with the boy she had a major, spine-tingling and butterfly inducing crush on. Yup. Definitely implode. And the good kind of implosion.

“You seem uncomfortable,” he said.

Startled by his astuteness, she stepped on his toes on accident. “Sorry! I’m sorry! Did that hurt?”

He laughed. “No. I’m good.”

“I’m… I’m not very a good dancer. I didn’t expect to be ambushed and—”

“Ah. Oh. Sorry,” he muttered and he lost some of the light in his eyes.

She’d inadvertently hurt his feelings and backpedalled as much as she could. “Oh. Oh. Um. It’s okay. I… I like dancing with you.”

The light came back. “Good, ‘cause I wanted to ask you all night, but Chloé’s   been— well… clingy. I didn’t think any of my other friends would be here. It was going to be a very lonely night for me. I’m happy you’re here.”

Friend. Friend. She was his friend. The word rolled around in her brain, setting it on fire. Friend. He wanted to spend time with her. Friend made him happy. He liked her.

She was perfectly okay with that. Friend was good. Friend was great.

Her fingers could touch the ends of his hair from where they were and she had to make a conscious effort not to play with the stands. “So if Nino was here, would you dance with him?”

Adrien laughed. “If Nino was here, we’d have been cutting up the dance floor with funky tunes all night.”

She giggled.

“Not this stifling…” he blinked and amended hastily. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, slow dancing is wonderful with a pretty girl like you, but does every song have to be slow?”

Marinette knew why and for once, she was grateful Chloé liked slow dances because it meant she could—

Did Adrien just call her pretty?

He did! He called her pretty!

Curse the stupid grin which spread across her face. Marinette was thankful he couldn’t see it.

“Adrikiiiiins!” Chloé called, her voice high pitched and overly cute, cutting across the top of the music. “Where are you?”

Adrien sighed. “I should go before she causes a scene,” he said and made no move to release her.

“Aww.”

“Yeah.”

He lifted his hands to her upper arms and Marinette made a huge effort to wipe the goofy grin off her face. Taking a step back, she looked up at him. “Thanks for the dance. I really enjoyed it.”

Adrien stared at her, then ducked his head down and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Merry Christmas Marinette,” he said before he turned away.

Marinette’s face burned brighter than a Christmas bauble for the rest of the night.

CEO Calum (Part One)

So, guys, this is my first fanfic. It’s kind of 50 Shades of Grey inspired? I promise that it’s not going to be based around all of that. Really the main shared points are the CEO part and a tiny kink? It won’t be centered around it though, so I hope you guys like it

Cal’s POV

     "Where is she?“ I barked at my secretary. I had an interview today for a new assistant I needed. The last one didn’t work out for… Reasons. My secretary shrugged, practically shaking in her hooker looking boots.  

   "I… I don’t know Mr. Hood, I scheduled the interview for 3:00 P.M.” She murmured, looking at the floor. I waved my hand at her, “Fine, go, schedule me an appointment with my trainer for tomorrow morning.” She nodded and I think she curtsied before leaving the room. I sighed and sank into my chair behind my oak wood desk. I stared out the window that took up an entire wall, just wondering when she was going to show up.

     "Mr. Hood?“ The phone rang out on speaker. "Miss. Y/L/N is here for her interview, shall I send her in?” Andrea, the secretary, asked.
“Of course, wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” I mumbled sarcastically and hung up on Andrea. Soon enough, my blonde secretary walked in with my potential assistant. “Whoa,” was all I could think.

     A gorgeous girl stood in front of me. She was beautiful, her black pencil skirt flowed over her body smoothly with a white button up was tucked into it with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was in loose curls, framing a face that drew me in right away. Her eyes stood out like the first flowers after a long winter. Her smile made me smile, and I enjoyed every minute.
     "Ah hem,“ my secretary cleared her throat. "This is Y/F/N Y/L/N, interviewing to be your new assistant.” I smiled at the both of them.

     "Thank you, Andrea, you’re dismissed,“ I nodded politely and she left. "Please, take a seat,” I gestured to the two chairs that were in front of my desk. She smiled and took a seat.

     "It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hood, I’ve heard great things about your company,“ she looked up at me through her eyelashes. I could get use to that. I sat down next to her, smiling.
     "Is that so? With how many people I’ve fired lately, I feel as though I could’ve gained a terrible reputation to new employees,” I chuckled a bit. “But, based on your resume, I feel as though I don’t have to worry about you. You’d be a great addition to the company, Miss. Y/L/N,” I nodded and her face flushed.
     "Really? Why, uh, thank you Mr. Hood,“ she spoke, her voice was a bit shaky. I’m sure I could whip that out of her, I bit my lip and let it go quickly. I couldn’t think that way of her if I was going to hire her. Fuck.
The interview continued for awhile, asking about the basics and such.

     "Well, Miss. Y/L/N, I think you’re definitely a contender for this job. We’ll call in a few days,” I stood up and held out my hand. She followed in suite, shaking mine back. Wow, her hands were soft.

     "Thank you so much for this opportunity, I look forward hearing back,“ she smiled and we walked out of my office together. I led her to the elevator, glancing over her presence as we waited. Her bum was perfection, and then she smiled at me. Her smile lit up my entire world. Too bad I could never let her in.

Y/N’s POV
*A few days later*

     "F/N, I don’t think you understand. This man was gorgeous, and his lips, oh my god I just want him. I don’t know if I can take this job…” You told your best friend over a cup of tea.

      “Y/N, I -” she was stopped by the sound of your phone ringing. “Hold on one moment,” you told her, proceeding then to pick up your phone.

     "Hello, Miss. Y/L/N, this is Calum Hood from Hood Corporations and Productions. I’m calling in response to your interview, we want to offer you the job,“ he spoke over the line. I smiled brightly and almost squealed with delight.

     "I would love to take the job!” You responded. “Thank you so much for this opportunity, I will be there at 8:00 A.M.” You told him. “Are you at home? I would love to take you out to celebrate,” he stated. “If you’re not, that’s fine. I’m sure you have other plans." 

     "It would be my delight Mr. Hood, I’ll see you in an hour?" 

     "That’s fine, see you then Miss. Y/L/N,” he hung up afterwards.

     "I have a date, get out,“ you told your friend. She looked at you dumbstruck. "Go, go, go!” You practically pushed her out the door, and began to get ready. You spent about 45 minutes transforming yourself into an outfit that was respectable but flaunted your assets. You left your hair straight and was putting an earring in when the doorbell rang.

So, what did you guys think? Part two, possibly?

anonymous asked:

ok this is the last one i swear. so someone is flirting with clarke on the subway and clarke is not interested but the guy can't take a hint. he says: "i really like this blonde hair blue eyes thing" and clarke just rolls her eyes and says: "yeah so did hitler" and the stranger next to her (bellamy) bursts out laughing. pls? thank you - s.

Clarke had what could definitely be called a love hate relationship with the subway.  On the one had it was effective, fast, and meant she didn’t need a car.  All of which were great.  But on the other hand, it smelled terrible (especially the orange line), was almost always packed, and meant she had to field unwanted and usually creepy comments.

She’d had a long day at school and mostly just wanted to go home, the ten stop trek out of downtown that usually took at least forty-five minutes.  Being one of the lucky few who had managed to snag a seat, she had her head leaned back against the window, and her eyes closed, listening to the clack clack of the cars over the rails and the ever-present screeching of the green line as it trundled around a corner.

The train slowed and hissed to a stop.

“Hynes Convention Center,” the automated voice announced as the doors sliding open to admit another wave of busy and exhausted workers and students.  “Next stop, Kenmore.”

Clarke cracked her eye open as someone’s toddler trod over her foot, smiling at the harried looking mother, waving it off.  She drew her feet in closer to the edge, making room for the stamped of people that was trying to push its way onto the train before the doors closed again.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Keep reading

In The Mayor’s Office (Olicity, Explicit, S4)

This started with a tweet from @emilybuttrickards and quickly spiraled out of control courtesy of @dumplingnooona… This is for you, Magda!

(Remember we met Sander in Suspenders…)


He should’ve said no. 

It was a bad idea, a gloriously bad idea, so bad that for one second he really had thought, “Remember the insanely long pep talk Sander gave you this morning about scandals this morning? The one where he’d talked about people probably not caring too much since the city was at the point where they just wanted a warm body in the office, but still, he hadn’t exactly left the best taste in people’s mouths with his ‘colorful’ history of being a total jackass, the taint on his family name that still lingered, and the pesky fact that he’d been accused of being the Arrow multiple times…

‘”Just keep your nose clean, Mr. Queen.’

“Just say no.”

He hadn’t said no… and damn it, he just didn’t care.

She’d come by for lunch, a little way for them to spend more time together, to get in a few more minutes now that both their schedules were jam-packed. She’d brought lunch with her, sitting on the other side of the desk as she’d explained what Curtis was up, how they’d almost burned the building down earlier that morning - “On accident! The company’s not doing bad enough to actually burn it down… yet…” - and he’d talked about Sander’s plan for getting him out into the city to start meeting the people of Star City.

It’d been so innocent

Until she’d mentioned how she didn’t exactly enjoy how early they had to get up anymore because that meant no more morning sex, something she’d really looked forward to - “There’s really nothing like a morning orgasm to wake you right up” - almost as much as the special visits he’d paid to her the few times he’d managed to get over to Palmer Tech to check in on her, to bring her lunch…

And then…

Oliver’s head fell back in his chair, his hips surging up as he thrust into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his length, making him groan under his breath, his skin tingling with a hot awareness he felt over every inch of his body.

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anonymous asked:

Beckett wears the same thing Stana wore to the EMAs to surprise Castle at an event in different town and Castle is losing it. (Or basically his reaction to seeing beckett with that on) - pls raina just pls

Set during the summer between season 7 and 8.

-

Castle checks his phone for the third time in the last fifteen minutes, hoping for a reply from his wife to magically appear on his screen, but he’s receiving nothing but silence. Not even that little bubble of dots giving him hope that she’s just busy typing out her response, hopefully telling him she’ll be able to cut out from work in time, make it to his book launch party for Driving Heat after all.

Rick tucks his phone back into his pocket, certain he’ll feel it the second it buzzes with a text message, if it ever does at all. He loves Kate’s job, he’s always loved her job, but right now, as he stands alone at a party he didn’t even want to attend? He hates it. 

Without his wife here, without Alexis, who had flown to Los Angeles for the week to placate Meredith’s nagging demands for his daughter, or even his mother, who had a show scheduled the exact same night of his release party, Castle is probably the only person here who isn’t enjoying the lavish festivities surrounding him.  

He does his best to stop pouting about it, earning piercing glares from both Paula and Gina each time they notice him sulking at the bar, and accepts the glass of champagne from the waiter making his rounds across the vaguely familiar rooftop setting. Paula had thought the location they’d used before would be a good idea since it had been such a hit the first time around and this time, they were using it to promote Nikki’s continuous uprising rather than Derrick’s demise. Rick had accepted the suggestion without hesitation, thinking it would be a fun callback to the first time he met Kate, but without her actually here, it isn’t very fun at all.

This time around, the entrance to the rooftop had become a hounding zone for the limited bundle of photographers allowed access inside the party and Rick had begun to feel bad for his guests. The red carpet outside the building had been one thing, but stepping off the elevator only to be blinded with the flashes of cameras and shouts for attention was a bit overboard, even for him. 

One of his more prestigious guests must have just arrived, though, because the photographers have gone into a sudden frenzy, calling for the attention, begging for a shot of the latest attendee.

It’s the real Nikki Heat! 

Richard Castle’s wife has finally arrived! 

Nikki, give us a smile!

Castle slides gracelessly from his spot on the barstool, abandoning his champagne flute and striding through the maze of party guests, doing his best to refrain from breaking out into a run.

She came.

The photographers form a line near the entryway, red carpet trained, and Kate is walking her path through the flashing lights of cameras with ease, not posing for them, but allowing them to gain the perfect shots anyway as she struts like a model down a runway. Straight towards him.

He would meet her halfway if he still had the ability to think past the pleasant shock her choice of attire has sent him into. 

“Hey hotshot,” Kate chuckles, coming towards him with a smile that rivals the bright bursts of light following after her. “Sorry I didn’t have a chance to text you back. Had to get ready in a hurry.”

“You - you look stunning,” he gets out, catching her by the hips once she’s in reach, abrading his fingers on the sequin scales decorating the plunging black jumpsuit adorning her slim figure. Castle’s eyes follow the deep ‘v’ of the neckline, his blood heating at the exposed skin of her sternum, the glittering strips of fabric concealing her breasts but still allowing the slightest hints of cleavage. “Wow, Kate.”

“You like it?” she murmurs, her lips spreading into a slow grin while her hands rise to splay at his chest, and at this rate, he thinks the cameras still working to capture her may explode. 

“That would be an understatement.” Rick traces a hand up her back, suppressing a groan at the bare skin he encounters, the line of her spine exposed and the creamy expanse of her flesh warm. “When did you buy this?”

Beckett shrugs, nudging him backwards, away from the vultures with the cameras and the prying eyes of his guests, towards the secluded shadows off to the side of the dance floor. “Recently. Wanted to surprise you.”

Oh, she had. In the best way possible.

He hadn’t even thought she was coming, had been attempting to smother the last of his hopes that she’d be able to make it, but not only had she shown up, she’d shown up looking more breathtaking than a starry night sky, sprinkled in moondust and still glowing from their time in the Hamptons last month. 

“I really am sorry I’m late though, babe. I-”

Rick kisses her before the explanation can spill free, pressing the lithe lines and sinewy curves of her body to his, feeling her melt into his embrace and lift into his kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful, Kate,” he pants against her lips, tucking a wavy strand of her hair behind her ear, appreciating the gossamer quality to the locks beneath the shine of city lights overhead. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she mumbles, smoothing her hands down the lapels of his suit, pride shimmering in the golden pools of her eyes. “I couldn’t miss it.”

“I don’t think we can stay much longer though,” he confesses, watching her brow crease with confusion that he clears instantly, canting his hips into the cradle of hers. “You look gorgeous in the jumpsuit, Kate. But it’s going to have to come off soon.”

Kate’s arms slither beneath the blazer of his suit, her fingers fisting in the back of his purple dress shirt he knows she favors, sealing their bodies together and oh is he grateful for the relative cover of the shadows, the privacy from the rest of the room as his wife drives him to insanity. 

“We’re mingling for at least an hour,” she compromises, with both him and herself it seems, and Castle sighs his consent, dusting his lips along her hairline and inhaling the exotic scent of her shampoo. “Then you’re taking me home.”

“And taking you out of this,” he mumbles, teasing his fingers along the dip of material at her spine, already imagining the pleasure of peeling each strap of sequined fabric from her shoulders, peeling the jumpsuit from her body inch by inch-

“Castle,” she hisses, shrugging his touch from her shoulder and oh, he had been toying with the strap, entertaining the idea of easing it down as he yearned to do so desperately in the intimate setting of their bedroom, hadn’t he? Oops. “An hour,” Kate reminds him, her heels elevating her high enough to simply lean forward, bruise his mouth with the hard, delicious press of hers. 

He grumbles once she pulls away, withdrawing her hands from inside his jacket and stealing his from her sides, lacing their fingers and stepping out into the crowd with him. He wants her all to himself, but as they’re greeted by his fellow writers, well-respected people of the city, and eventually their friends, he can’t help feeling his own pride swelling in his chest at the opportunity to show her off.

Seven years ago, she had crashed a book party similar to this one, eyeing him with disdain and a hidden hint of disappointment, and now she was on his arm, wearing a ring on her left hand that signified her role in his life and tilting into his side, shooting him smiles that left him speechless. She was happy, proud of him, and that’s what still gets him most days. That he can make Kate Beckett proud.

He can’t wait to go home with her, to worship the body on display beneath the shimmering jumpsuit clinging to her like a second skin, but for the next hour, he is content to stand by her side, watch her eyes gleam every time she takes note of the dedication she saw long before it was published, and chuckle in her ear each time he makes an inappropriate comment about how desperately he wants her.

anonymous asked:

Number 7!

7 - fake dating au! My five year high school reunion was actually a few weeks ago but I didn’t go. Yet, I used it for a fic. Hope you enjoy! I know my fics are starting to follow a similar pattern. Sorry for the boring ;—-; and also the weird sentence structure idK

She takes a deep breath, drenched in whiskey and ginger ale. “How are you?” She does not ask if he remembers that they used to be best friends in high school, she does not ask why they stopped talking after graduation even though social media is rampant and readily available, she does not ask if he misses her the way she missed him, and she certainly does not ask if he remembers the taste of her lips (she used peppermint mocha chapstick that day on purpose, because no one forgets the taste of mint), because these are questions that poets ask, that writers ask, and not grounded, gorgeous humans and wow, he got so much taller, and I’m the same height.

She turns the invitation to her five-year high school reunion over and over in her hands, unopened and gold-bordered. The envelope is heavy, as if it is a paperweight instead of just paper. She wonders who decided such luxurious and neat invites would be necessary, then remembers Kid was her class president and sighs.

Maka places it on her desk as if afraid to open it, in case it really is made of gold. She rises from her chair, brews an entire pot of coffee and drinks it (black) before she sits back down, overflowing with liquid courage. Heart rattling her ribcage like a trapped bird, she tears it as clean as possible with her ancient letter-opener and slides the invitation out.

It also bordered in gold, and the sentences are written in eight-word forms. He’s somehow managed to be stricter than Shakespeare, and she rolls her eyes. These are the things she left behind in high school, the tiny things that never cross her mind until she actually observes them. She is not sure if she actually misses these quirks, if it’s the burn of coffee, or just an aching pool of nostalgia that has grown deeper each year she passes 21. The twenty dollar fee perks her interest, and disdain. She has kept in touch with all the friends that mattered from that era, so why pay to see the ones she did not care much for?

In the back of her mind, there is a flash of crimson eyes and alabaster hair, the small pinprick of sharp teeth on her lips.

Some of her hair loosens from her ponytail and she imagines him pushing it back, remembers the coolness of the shaded brick wall behind their school, their strange meeting spot, their daily rendezvous.

She checks that she will attend, though as the memories of him fade she wonders why.

What can we even have accomplished in five years? Have we really changed at all?

She puts the invitation away and writes small verses of poetry with a hazed mind.

She wishes she had gold ink.

But she figures that wouldn’t match the lines, as they appear to be teeming with imagery coated in white and red.

She is somehow the first guest after the student government body, and when they all turn to look at her after she passes the threshold she realizes she cannot slip away unnoticed now. It does not help that so close to Christmas she determined that silver-sparkle tights would be a good idea, as they flicker under every light she stands under and draw too much attention (though she paid ten dollars for them, because they look like falling snow); she still files that in her mental bad-idea cabinet right alongside coming to this dumb reunion.

Maka has only a few minutes to look around before they approach, like a pack of lionesses on the hunt for the limping, glittery zebra. They chose a baby-boomer dive bar just near the center of the city, and the function hall is an old wood-paneled room dappled with plastic flamingos, blow-up palm trees, and plastic-coated tables and chairs. She crosses her fingers behind her back that there is no assigned seating.

Kim, the then-secretary, moves toward her with undisguised shock at her wardrobe choice. Ox stands very close behind her, his gross affection for her still obvious, as obvious as sparkles, even behind lenses as thick as a stone wall.

Before she can open her mouth, however, Kid shoves his way gracefully into the growing throng of unfamiliars - or distantly familiars, she isn’t sure what they are anymore, as disconnected alumni - and shakes Maka’s hand with a faint smile.

“Maka,” he greets, “how are you?”

“I’m… here,” she answers, in her typical honest way. “And you?”

“I’m fantastic. I finally got the tables symmetrical on both sides of the room, which was very difficult. I’m also a little anxious.”

“Ah, yeah. Me, too. I’m scared to see all these people again. I’m worried I won’t quite be as successful as anyone else, you know.” She laughs.

“Well, I’m anxious because after everyone sits at the tables my work might be ruined, but I suppose that might be a fear, too. Also, these tights are great but you should consider striped-”

“So what do you do for a living now, Kid?” She clears her throat.

“I’m an architect, and also an interior decorator on the side. It’s a fulfilling life so far. I have done rooms for a few celebrities, though no one too famous. What are you doing now?”

She thinks of her unfinished portfolio at home, of her slow climb. In high school, she was the overachiever, the straight-A student. She was the library monster, never too far from antiquated Hemingway novels (which she loathed; the man seemed like a pig, in her opinion), from Biology manuals where she pored over the diagrams of dragonflies and marsupials; never too far from knowledge, as if she could not thrive without it. In graduate school, she might just be average. She spends less time in the libraries and more time daydreaming, writing prose. It feels less like an accomplishment to write than to answer programmed questions and diagrams, somehow.

Her breathing increases, and she says, “Right now, I am going to get a drink,” and she near-dashes away from him, glad for the cover of a sudden burst of guests.

She reaches the empty bar and asks for two shots of Jameson with ginger ale, and revels at the distracting burn.

She hopes too much liquid courage in such a short span of time doesn’t kill her, or neutralize the bravery and turn to cowardice.

She throws back one more before he’s beside her at the bar.

The first thing Maka notices is that he smells the same as he did five years ago when they parted, like sandalwood spices and cigarette smoke. It is a comfort and a heart-clencher all at once, and she leans more heavily on the bar top. She turns to face him, and the second thing he notices is that his smirk is the same, and her heart stops and the blood rushes to her face. The room is warmer than it was ten minutes before.

“Soul?” she murmurs, as if he needs to say it for it to be real.

“Maka,” he greets, simper still in place, never leaving, always serrated at the edges, always somehow handsome.

She takes a deep breath, drenched in whisky and ginger ale. “How are you?” She does not ask if he remembers that they used to be best friends in high school, she does not ask why they stopped talking after graduation even though social media is rampant and readily available, she does not ask if he misses her the way she missed him, and she certainly does not ask if he remembers the taste of her lips (she used peppermint mocha chapstick that day on purpose, because no one forgets the taste of mint), because these are questions that poets ask, that writers ask, and not grounded, gorgeous humans and wow, he got so much taller, and I’m the same height.

“Not drunk enough to deal with this,” he says.

He is in a pinstripe suit, and she is in glitter tights like a fairy and she just wants to fly off into the night but wow.

“I am, almost,” she admits, and he laughs, and it sounds the same. Some has changed in five years, but not the things she loved about him, and it makes her shudder. She clenches her fist, and looks up (just slightly) to meet his gaze. “What do you do now?”

“Going to graduate school, so I can be a music professor. You?” Soul looks awkward for a moment as their eyes meet, and with the predatory advantage comes some sort of boldness.

Her anxiety starts to fade. “Going to graduate school so I can be a creative writing professor. We’re a couple of society’s true dreamers to the end, huh?”

“Mmm, as we always were.”

There it is. Her heart sways again, too far and too fast. He remembers some of them, at least. “Right.”

“Hey,” he whispers against her ear, and his breath breezing by her neck causes her to jump (and lose that effect she had on him that she was really enjoying). “Wanna mess with people here?”

She closes her eyes and balances herself, despite drowning in his scent, his warmth. “How so?”

“Let’s tell everyone here that we’re dating. That we’ve been secretly dating since we left high school.”

She knows now that he remembers different moments than she does. She figures he must have never been approached by Tsubaki, by Liz, by Patti - all who asked if she and Soul were a couple, because the whole school was starting to wonder with the amount of time they spent together in their free time. She remembers those so strong in her chest because she remembers how flustered she felt, and how she answered - in her usual honest way: “No, we’re just friends,” and how it hurt to say that, but how she knew he would have said the same with no feeling. “We just really understand each other, you know? So we hang out all the time.”

Maka harnesses the bitterness left over from those years and wields it like a scythe and aims right for his soft heart. “Sounds like fun to me,” she whispers. She pulls just slightly away, looks him dead in the eye for a fleeting moment, and then brings him in for a searing kiss. She moves away with a laugh, feigning confidence while he stands there, red as his gaze from head to toe. “What? I’m just playing the part.”

She learned a lot in college, and that might have been part of the recreation.

Though some part of her just wants him to remember what she remembers.

She remembers meeting him at their usual spot after graduation, on a sweltering late-spring day. She said nothing to him, only kissed him long and slow and then left.

That kiss left them silent for so long.

“So you are Maka have been dating all this time? Woah! I never knew, Soul. Congratulations. I didn’t think you had a tomboy in you.” Black Star’s drunken, raucous laugh shakes the fluorescent lights and turns many heads their way. Maka sticks him in the foot with her heel and he yelps. “Sorry, sorry. I mean, I didn’t know you had such a… fiery spirit in you.”

“Yeah, I just like ‘em rough,” Soul says with a laugh. He wraps an arm around her (which is easy, she realizes with an internal sigh, because she’s still short), but the movement is so comfortable it almost feels like they really have been dating for five years.

She vows revenge. She hates how does this fake-relationship stuff without any sentiment, any emotion, and all the while she feels almost everything she can all at once.

She grins, though it is sultry and packed with fury. “Yes, he sure does love it rough,” she says, right before she grabs his ass with the force of a martial artist and watches him (with a lot of amusement) almost fall into a fake palm tree. “And I love giving it to him.” Her teeth are gritted, and before she puts the edge of her heel into his crotch she stomps back to the bar and orders another two shots, despite the inferno in her stomach and throat (that is what the ginger ale is for).

Black Star watches him catch his breath with a sad shake of his head. “I mean, I know we’ve all been apart for a while, and maybe we don’t know each other so well anymore but… I never forget a pissed Maka.”

“You think she’s pissed?”

The blue-haired man puts a hand on Soul’s shoulder. “I think she’s in full demon mode, bro. I hope you’re ready to eat a lot of pussy tonight.”

“Black Star have you… gotten smarter?”

“No, man. I just learned a lot about women and their needs and shit.” He takes a swig of his (pink) drink. “Though Tsubaki tells me that by learning a lot more about women, I’m smarter than I know, so I never stop trying. She tells me that women are actually the key to knowledge, and I believe her. She’s got a master’s in physics.”

“You really have gotten smarter, dude.”

Soul and Black Star watch as Maka takes a final shot, throws on her coat, and weaves through the groups of chattering alumni like a vicious shadow and disappears.

“And I think you’ve gotten dumber,” Black Star adds before Soul is out the door, running after her.

She isn’t sure where she is going, but she is lured toward the center of town, one tiny acre in the middle of a rotary decorated for the holidays. There is a giant Christmas tree in the center, and she read in the paper that it belonged to a lifelong resident’s grandfather, who planted it eighty years ago and raised it until it grew out of control. Now, it rests all bundled up with hundreds of tiny, off-white lights and gray garland, a lot like her tights. She walks all around the acre, looks at the smaller trees hung with pictures of the local elementary and middle school students, stands in awe before the giant Menorah, and wanders aimlessly to the Nativity scene sans-Jesus. They can no longer put him out, because his ceramic baby statue no longer exists. A few kids stole him two years ago and never gave him back. She wonders, maybe drunkenly, what the hell two young kids do with a fake Jesus, but then does not bother to care.

She walks a little further until she spots a homeless man all curled up on a metallic bench, huddle with only tattered blankets to cover him. He is the only one she has seen so far. He looks older (though she figures being outdoors at all times and hours must make a person age a lot quicker than normal). Maka wonders how he can sleep with the winds just a few degrees above zero. The North Face her mother bought her as an apology for not showing up for her birthday two years ago (same year Jesus was kidnapped; must have been a bad year for everyone, from graduate students to messiahs) is suddenly as heavy as that gold-plated envelope was in her hands a few weeks ago.

She shucks it off, and leaves it on top of him. The whiskey keeps her warm, just up until her eyes start to close and she slumps on a bench not too far.

Someone shakes her awake just a moment later. Suddenly, she feels the cold and shivers just the slightest. However, it’s warm again when the dream-intruder plops down beside her, puts his arm around her, smells like cigarettes and sandalwood spice and total asshole.

“Go away, Soul,” she hisses through her alcohol-addled brain.

“I saw what you did for that guy, Maka. I’m glad to see that your heart is the same size as it always was.”

“Shut up.” She gets closer to him if only because of a survival instinct.

“That… was… well, is what I’ve always really liked about you.”

Her eyes shoot open. “That’s what I’m talking about!” She sobers near-instantly, and grabs him by the collar. “That’s what makes me so mad! You can just say this shit and you don’t even get embarrassed - you don’t even seem embarrassed at all! What the hell? If I tried to say that, I might faint. Or puke.”

“Please don’t puke on me.”

“Big baby. You never made sense. You always were careful not to get anything you owned dirty but you smoked more than anyone I knew. I hate you, you know?” Her grip loosens, and hot tears start to stream down her face. “You don’t make any fucking sense. What do you remember about us, Soul?”

“Mm, a lot. But mostly, I remember missing you.”

“Then why didn’t… you talk to me?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“That’s not fair! I made the first move!” she screams, and lets go of his jacket.

“Ah, yeah. I remember that the most.” His hand is in her loose hair, pushing it back. The daydream is real, and she can’t breathe, though the air is fresh and so cold. He puts it behind her ear, thumbs away a few of her tears. “The kiss. I… thought about that all the time, Maka.”

“It was a shitty kiss. I didn’t even know what I was doing.”

“I wanted to make it better, but before I could do anything, you had left.”

“Soul-”

He holds her head in both of his hands now. “Can we… continue where we left off?”

She puffs out her cheeks, and his hands fall away with a laugh. “Only if we date for real.”

“That was actually the goal, I was just kind of… I don’t know. It’s been so long but… when I saw you I realized I still felt the same, somehow. Different, but the same.”

“Shut up and finish the kiss. I’ve been waiting a long time.”

He does (and he tastes like cigarettes and nothing like peppermint mocha, but she can’t forget it, either way; and if she does, he reminds her).