lights go on again

Nightly Strolls

Request: 8&26 w sirius??

Word Count: 985

Note: I feel like this one sucks, so I’m sorry to whoever requested it, I had no idea what do write about it, I still hope you like it though

8. “Are you scared?”

26. “I’m proud of myself.” “You mean us?” “Sure, that too.”

Prompt List

You had the habit of going for late walks on school grounds when you couldn’t sleep. Sometimes you’d just stare out the window, but on this particular night the full moon seemed to call for you, illuminating everything outside with its soft light.

Well aware you weren’t going to be able to sleep once again, you grabbed your cloak knowing it would be cold outside, and quietly sneaked out of the castle. Sneaking out was always a dilemma for you, you knew other older students did it all the time, but you figured you couldn’t really compare a third year with a seventh year. You also knew you simply shouldn’t do it, there were rules for a reason, but staying in your dorm awake all night seemed too boring compared to the pleasure of wandering outside.

Successfully reaching the grounds, the cold night breeze hit your face, making you cover your nose with the cloak. Still not feeling tired, you wandered around long enough to reach the Whomping Willow. You hated that tree, and couldn’t understand why it was there. Your father told you that during his years at Hogwarts there was no such tree, so the violent plant had been put there after that for some reason you couldn’t possibly comprehend.

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anonymous asked:

Are the Daynes white-passing poc? I've seen people saying that they aren't poc like the Martells because they're descended from the First Men instead of the Rhoynar like other Dornish houses.

Daynes are Stony Dornishmen, who are descended from the First Men. Racial makeup in Dorne is rather complicated by virtue of the Rhoynar invasion and intermarriage, though it’s established that everyone has got some Rhoynish blood in them. 

That being said, race doesn’t work like that in Dorne. In Dorne, everyone is Dornish. Skin color is irrelevant. Outside of Dorne is another issue– non-Dornish Westerosi regard the Dornish as Dornish. They are their own ethnicity and are othered by virtue of being Dornish. From an American perspective, the Westerosi would be the majority race and the Dornish are the othered minority. Of course, we know that the Martells and the salty/sandy Dornishmen have been described as olive-skinned/dark-skinned with dark hair and eyes. Stony Dornishmen are going to generally be lighter skinned/light-eyed. Again, this doesn’t matter in Dorne because they are Dornish regardless, and being Dornish outside of Dorne means you’re subject to overt and subtle racism alike. 

anonymous asked:

Why do you think Sherlock and John are more compatible than Sherlock and Molly?

I have a ton of reasons, but here are my main two:

1.) Sherlock is gay.

2.) Molly has literally under 9 minutes of screentime up through Season 3. I went through and counted. Out of 1087 minutes of screentime she has under 9. That’s 0.08%. And you’re asking how I find the two main characters more compatible? Right, okay. Think about how much more Sherlock/John content there is. Yeah. That’s what I thought.

10
    “......Open your eyes...Open your eyes. Wake up, Link....
  Link...You are the light--our light--that must shine upon Hyrule 
  once again. Now, go......Remember...Try...Try to remember... You
    have been asleep for the past 100 years. The beast...When the 
  beast regains its true power, this world will face its end. Now 
     then...You must hurry, Link. Before it's too late...”
Do you all know that I love birds

Not in an “I have an obsession with studying the most exotic birds on the planet”, or an “I have pet birds way”. All of them…I love all of the birds.

Pigeons? Colourful, fluffy little weirdos. Like ridiculously weird. Have you ever watched their mating dances? Seen one sheltering under another’s wing in the rain?

Seagulls? Don’t give one single solitary fuck. Will swoop down and knock the burger from your hand as you leave McDonalds then calmly eat it right there on the ground in front of you. Will land on your car roof at a traffic light and stay on after you start going again.

Corvids? They’re smarter than you and they know it.

Swans? Consummate badasses. Majestic assholes who will kick your ass if you look at them wrong. Elegant yachts on the water and clumsy clowns everywhere else.

I mean, they fly. What else could you want in any animal?

But even the ones who can’t…

Chickens? Also feathery weirdos. Pigeons’ bigger siblings. Don’t tend to know what they’re doing half the time unless there’s food involved.

Ostriches? Bigger assholes than swans if that’s possible. And thick as two planks to boot.

Name a bird and I love it.

Here it is guys, I don’t know if anyone else has made this but I just thought I make this because this was the best part in Lost Light comic 5 and I just love how Rung owns the Functionist Council so much! This would be a sin if I didn’t make this! (Sound is needed in order to for you to hear the awesomeness of this!)

Please enjoy!

When the heart bleeds, it can seem impossible to heal.

When the seal has been broken, it can seem impossible to fix.

When the lights go dark, it can seem impossible to see again.

But the dawn brings light, the seal is broken for the message to be read, and the heart heals.

It all takes time, but it takes us to a place we never thought we’d go, a land of strength and beauty.

—  T.B. LaBerge // Go Now
2

27 March 1960 - james fleamont potter

Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you need of him. How else could you produce that particular patronus? Prongs rode again last night.

Humans Are Weird: Women Edition Part II

Continuation of my Humans Are Weird: Women Edition that no one asked for! What aspect of women in society will this entail? I do not know. Vallion will be telling the story, so let’s see what they have to tell.

Part I >> Part III

~~~~~~~~~

Several Earthen moon cycles had passed since the porn incident and Vallion sensed their crew had settled into a dormant state. They did not like the feeling. It had been proven time and time again by the humans that, when things became quiet and calm, it was only a precursor for chaos and mayhem. They shared their thoughts with Lt. Gen. Noriko Murakami and Brig. Gen. Lillian Balogh during their refreshment break, termed “coffee break”, in the mess hall (though coffee could kill a H’hish within an hour if medical action was not taken, humans had no problem consuming the beverage. A H’hish could only consume it if the coffee was decaffeinated). Needless to say, the human women were far from helpful. Instead of easing their doubts and worries, the two multiplied it ten-fold.

The three of them were reclined in their chairs when Vallion brought up the subject. “I feel that something…ominous will happen soon; and I do not believe it is because of that awful movie I and the other H’hish were made to watch by your fellow humans.” Vallion was firm in their belief and gave the two women, one their superior officer and the other their subordinate, a stern, pointed look he often saw other humans direct toward each other in such situations.

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Jealousy

Author’s note: THIS IS NOT THE PART I SENT TO MY PROFESSOR!!! This is actually SFW, the smut is allllll in the next part ;) I’m not done tweaking it yet, so for now here’s this!!


I’m hungry.

A loud clanging noise came from the kitchen, causing you to turn your head. An out-of-breath Jaehee peeked out from the around the corner, completely covered in flour.

“Sorry about that,” she smiled apologetically, “dinner should be ready in-”

“JAEHEEEEE, I THINK I BURNT SOMETHING!!”

Seven’s panicky voice echoed throughout Jumin’s apartment. Jaehee sighed and turned around, mumbling something about ‘who let Luciel in the kitchen,’ and how she was going to ‘make sure they never saw the light of day again.’

After watching her storm out of the room, you turned back to Zen.

“What were you saying?”

Zen leaned back into the couch and kicked his legs up on the coffee table.

“Just how annoying it is that we have to host our monthly RFA dinners at his house,” Zen glared at Jumin.

The businessman stopped poking at his sleeping cat and stood up. “It’s not like I asked for this!” He made his way across the room and plopped down on the other side of you. “I’m merely a victim of being volunteered.”

“Victim? Please, you don’t even understand the word.”

“I’ll have you know-”

“Can you two not do this?”

Zen and Jumin looked at the blonde gamer sitting on the ground in front of you. “I can’t hear my game if you guys constantly bicker!”

“Or,” you threw a pair of headphones at his head, “you could just wear these.”

Yoosung quickly dodged the flying object. He crossed his arms and pouted.“You could’ve hit me, MC!!”

“Sorry, I’m just hangry.”

As if on que, you stomach growled.

“Speaking of angry,” Zen looked around, “where the hell is your boyfriend?”

You held up your phone and waved it around. “He just texted me saying he’ll be late.”

Yoosung mashed down a couple buttons on his controller and turned back around. “He better not flake on us this time!”

No promises…

Your stomach growled again and you sunk farther back in between Jumin and Zen. You heard quiet laughter coming from you right and swung a pillow in that direction.

“Don’t laugh at my misery, Zen.”

He grabbed the pillow from your hand and chunked it across the room. “Careful, you could’ve hit my money maker,” he gestured to his face.

You and Jumin looked at each and rolled your eyes.

“If that’s your money maker you must be one poor man,” Jumin chided.

“I wasn’t talking to-“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“That,” you hopped up and moseyed your way toward the door, “should be Saeran.”

And what good timing.

The door clicked and you swung it open.

“Hi.”

Saeran gave you his heart-warming, soul-melting, could-bring-you-back-to-life smile.

“Hey.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a kiss.

A loud cough finally broke the two of you apart.

You pulled away and wiped your mouth, staring at the your now very flushed boyfriend. Saeran muttered an apology before walking over to the couch, taking your spot between Zen and Jumin. You followed him, sitting down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist again and rested his head on your shoulder.

“So,” Yoosung paused his game and set down his controller, “why were you so late?”

Saeran looked down at Yoosung and shrugged. “I didn’t want to come.”

Yoosung formed an “O” with his mouth and looked away. Zen pulled out his phone and opened up his front camera, checking himself out. You looked over at Jumin, who was picking at his nail beds.

This is awkward.

You clapped your hands together, getting everyone’s attention.

“Let’s play charades!”


“For the last time,” you glared at Jumin, “I’m NOT A CAT!”

“Forty-five seconds left!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a terrible actress!”

“Forty seconds.”

“Well, what about you? This is the FIFTH round you’ve guessed a cat!”

“Thirty-five seconds.”

“And? For all I know you could’ve been one!”

“Thirty sec-”

“YOOSUNG, SHUT-UP!”

Both you and Jumin yelled at the blonde in sync. Yoosung’s eyes widened and he slowly put down the timer.

“S-Sorry, just trying to help,” he held his hands up in surrender.

Saeran sighed, “You do realize they’re on the other team, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re so… bad.”

“Watch it,” you shot Yoosung a bone-chilling look.

How the hell am I supposed to act out The Titanic?

Desperately, looked around the room.

“Zen, come here.”

He looked up from his phone and groaned. “I already told you I didn’t want to waste my talents playing-”

“Get your ass up here before I shove that phone down your throat.”

In a flash Zen was standing next to you. Covering it up so Jumin couldn’t see, you showed him the paper.

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

You tugged on his shirt, forcing him to lean down. Cupping his ear, you whispered your plan to him.

“Alright, got it.”

Jumin better get this.

As you spread your arms out, Zen wrapped his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on top of your head and you opened your mouth.

“I’m flying!”

Jumin stood up and pointed at you. “The, u-uhh, THE TITANIC!”

“YES!!”

Jumin clapped his hands together and smiled. Without thinking, you turned around and gave Zen a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you soooo much!”

He lifted you up and spun you around before setting you back down. “See!! Aren’t I an amazing actor?”

“The best.”

A chill shot down your spine when you heard the venom laced in those words. You felt a hand snake around your waist and pull you away from Zen.

“Thanks, Saeran!”

Zen is such an airhead sometimes.

As Jumin bragged to the others about his superior guessing skills, you focused on your boyfriend.

“What’s with the sudden mood change?”

He gave you his classic ‘are you really that dumb’ look and sighed. He motioned with his eyes to something behind you.

Or someone.

You lowered your voice to a harsh whisper. “Are you jealous?”

“…You kissed him.”

“On the cheek, for like, half a second. It was completely platonic!”

“Does he know that?”

“Yes!”

“Hmph,” he looked away from you, letting go of your waist.

“Come on,” you grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you, “don’t be like that. I love you, remember?”

The corners of Saeran’s mouth twitched. You smiled and took a step forward, “Now, kiss me like you don’t want to lose me.”

Something dark gleamed in his eyes, and he gave you a devious grin. “Don’t mind-”

“FOOD’S READY!!”

You let go of his face and pushed past him. Finally, I’m starving!!

Little did you know food wasn’t the only thing you were gonna put in your mouth tonight.

Illusion Part One (Lance Tucker x Reader)

Prompts/ Summaries: You are a 20 year old gymnast, who is training for her next, and probably last Olympic Game. Although you have won gold every year since you were 16, you mother and her husband Mark were never proud of you. She wanted you to be a rich lawyer like Mark, or a socialite like she was. Your mother insists you come to her annual charity event with a boyfriend, which you don’t have, but despite being a complete dick 100% of the time, Lance volunteers to pretend to be your boyfriend for your parents. What will happen? (I mean come on now y’all, we ALL know what happens in every situation like this, but like we still read them?)

Warnings: There are none yet, but eventually there will be smut? So warning is, LANCE TUCKER JUST BEING A SEX GOD 100% OF THE TIME BECAUSE BITCH THAT’S A WARNING ON ITS OWN <3

(NOTE: I LOVE LANCE TUCKER SO MUCH AND I FEEL LIKE HE IS A DICK TO COVER UP FOR SHIT HE DEALS ON HIS OWN, NOT THAT I CONDONE BEING AN ASSHOLE ALL THE TIME, BUT LIKE I’M AN ASSHOLE ALL THE SO SO I RELATE BECAUSE I FIND US BOTH EXTREMELY SIMILAR WITH VERY FEW DIFFERENCES? I’M A SUCKER FOR THE ASSHOLES AND I ALWAYS FIND A REASON TO DEFEND THEM.??)

I WROTE THIS FOR YA GIRL, ME, BECAUSE I’M COMPLETE LANCE TUCKER TRASH LIKE FUCK ME UP BITCH, GIVE ME THAT GOLD. OK I’M DONE

ALSO I DIDN’T PROOF READ THIS BECAUSE I WAS EXCITED FOR IT TO BE POSTED SO I’LL PROBABLY MAKE EDITS LATER.

LAST THING

SO I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT GYMNASTICS SO I USED GIFS FROM TUMBLR, I FORGOT TO CITE THEM SO IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE SOURCES YALL CAN JUST TYPE IN “GYMNASTICS GIFS” ON TUMBLR



Part One

“Keep it tight or you’ll never hit the landing on dismount. You never get it right, and honestly how you took the gold last year is beyond me.” Lance walked up to you and looked dawn at you.

You stood with your hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. “Seriously Y/N, am I going to have to tie your legs together or something?”

“No.”

“Do it right next time or I swear I’ll do it.” Lance walked back from the mat and headed towards the cooler to grab a water. You rolled your eyes and walked back to the bar. You looked over at Lance, who wasn’t even paying attention before looking back to the bar and jumped. You gained your momentum and began doing the routine.

Once it came time to dismount you prepared yourself and let go, flipping and hitting the mat with the heels of your feet, almost maintaining your balance but ultimately losing and falling onto your back. You put your hands over your eyes and forehead sighing loudly while Lance started yelling again, his voice growing louder as he neared you. You shut him out and just focused on your breathing, trying to calm yourself of all the stress that had clouded your head lately. Your parents were on your ass about moving on and doing something else with your life, since they never really were supportive of your gymnastics.

“Y/N! Are you even listening to me?”

“It’s hard not to when you’re fucking screaming.”

“Watch it.” Lance squatted down next to you. “That attitude shit isn’t going to get you anywhere with me.”

You sat up and looked at your coach.

“What the hell is going on? You were perfect, haven’t missed anything for what, 4 years now? You’re probably on your last campaign this year, you are almost 21, you’re already pushing it. So don’t you want to go out with gold this year and stick it to the nation?”

“Yeah of course I do,” You put your head in your hands in defeat.

“Well, no offense, you’re not really showing it.” Lance moved from his squat and sat next to you on the mat. “Listen, what’s going on? Seriously. I’ve been your coach for 2 campaigns now and you’ve never been this distracted.”

“It’s just family stuff. I don’t want to talk about it.” You stood up and ran your hand across your forehead, covering it in a light layer of chalk. “I’m gonna get some water and go again.” You went to walk away when Lance grabbed your wrist.

“Sit down, you’re done for today.”

“I can go again it’s fine.”

“Y/N. You’re going to injure yourself if you keep practicing distracted.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly you aren’t.” Lance stood up and stepped closer to you. You looked up at his tall frame, slightly scared at the sudden aggression. “You’re not the coach, and you’re not the expert. If you wanted to coach yourself, I’ll leave. No problem.”

“You’re such an asshole. You know that right?”

“Yet here you are, still standing here. Still paying me to coach you.”

You rolled your eyes and began walking way.

“Be here tomorrow. 8am.”

“Yeah I know.”

You went into the locker room and changed into jeans and a t shirt. You let your hair down and ran some water on your face. You put your back on your shoulder and walked out into the main gym area. Lance had retired into his office in the back corner of the room. You walked over and knocked on the open door. Lance was behind his desk on his phone. When your presence was known, Lance ushered you in.

“I just wanted to say sorry for today, and that I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Close the door Y/N.”

You walked completely in and closed the door before turning back to Lance’s desk. He signaled for you to sit in the chair in front of the desk and you did, crossing your legs underneath you. Lance walked out in front of the desk and sat on the top of it.

“Honestly, what the hell is going on.” He sat and crossed his arms, still chewing on his gum.

You took a deep breath and leaned on the arm of the chair with your arm. “You know my parents right? All of them, my mom and Mark and my dad and Dana?”

“Yeah. I met them last year.”

“Well my mother has become such an uptight bitch since my dad left her and she met Mark. So in recent years, she’s wanted me to quit gymnastics. She has been harassing me about getting a man and settling down and, to quote her, “Stop wasting my time with gymnastics.” To her, being an Olympic gold medalist, is nothing. My real father and Dana are great but, my mother is just so fucking spiteful.”

“But your piece of shit mother isn’t your fault, so why are you taking the blame?”

“I don’t know. My mom is having this uppity society event next week, which I’m supposed to attend, and I don’t even want to think about showing up alone to be ridiculed by my mother all fucking night.” You laughed at how pathetic you sounded explaining the situation. “Which now sounds really fucking pathetic when I’m saying it out loud. Like I live on my own I shouldn’t care what my mom thinks.”

“Well I’d hate it if my parents didn’t accept my passion, but unfortunately I was forced into it and grew to enjoy it. But having a need to impress your parents is something that everyone has, and if you don’t wanna impress your parents then you’re trying to impress someone else. It’s human nature.”

You were shocked Lance was being nice and sympathetic about everything, you didn’t think he was capable of experiencing those emotions.

“Fuck your mom and that fucking asshole Mark. Fuck them both. You’re a fucking Olympic gold medalist and if that isn’t fucking impressive, then nothing will impress them. I relish in the fact that I won gold and silver.” You rolled your eyes. He ALWAYS relished in that. “I worked fucking hard for it, and you have worked hard for it. So fuck them, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Thanks… Lance, you’re being oddly nice.”

“I can’t be an asshole all the time, sometimes I change it up.”

You laughed and covered your mouth. “That’s bullshit. You’re always an asshole, there is no ‘mixing it up’ with you. But hell, if this whole coaching thing ends up not working out, you’d be a great comedian. Or prostitute, I mean might as well get paid for everything you fuck.”

“Your real fucking funny aren’t you?”

“I’m just calling it how it is.” You and Lance always bickered back in forth. You guys got along for the most part. “Ok I’m going to leave, but honestly thanks for telling me how it is, I always count on that.”

You stood from your chair and headed towards the door.

“Oh and Y/N.” You turned and looked at Lance who still was half sitting on his desk, arms still crossed. “If you ever feel lonely, and need some comfort. You have my number.” Lance smirked and winked at you causing you to fake gag and turn out of the room.

“In your fucking dreams, Tucker.” You closed the door and headed out of the gym. You tossed your bag in the back seat and got in your car. Lance’s office faced the parking lot and he was standing in the window looking at you. He brought his hand up to be a phone and mouthed “Give me a call” and smirked again before walking away. You started your car and pulled out of the parking lot into the Los Angeles sunset. Your roommate was out of town for the week so you had the apartment to yourself. You decided since you had a dreadful day, you were going to treat yourself to some junk food since you had been eating only 600 calories for the last 3 weeks. You didn’t want to get sick by introducing a bunch of unhealthy foods back into your life, so you just stopped and got some Chinese before heading back to your house. You took a quick shower, and changed into comfortable clothing before heading to your couch and turning on Netflix. You have been binge watching Gossip Girl whenever you found the time, which was never. After 2 or 3 episodes, you had finished your Chinese and already passed out on the couch, ready for training tomorrow, hoping it’d be a better day.

—————————————————————————————————

You pulled your hair back away from your face as you walked into the gym, your bag over your shoulder again. You opened the doors and felt the cool air conditioning it your face. It was a muggy day today. There were a few others in the gym today already working since it was almost noon. You waved hello and headed towards the locker room. Walking past Lance’s office, you saw him standing looking out to everyone in the main area on the phone. You waved as you passed and he nodded his head deep in conversation. You changed into your leotard and shorts and wrapped your wrist. You made sure your hair was tight and walked into the open room and towards the white board in the corner. It had a list of everyone who was training today and what they were supposed to be working on specifically. You were the only veteran gymnast training now, everyone else was working on being new Olympians. There were 3 other girls working on bars and beams today, and 2 guys working with one of the other coaches. The space next to your name was blank, so you just figured you could do whatever. Seeing that you worked on your bars routine for 4 hours yesterday, you wanted to take a break and go to the side room to work on your floor routine. The 3 Olympic standard floor mats were empty, as there was only a hand full of people in the gym today.

You walked to the surround sound speaker and plugged in your phone, going to your Spotify and playing the playlist called, “The Most Beautiful Songs in The World”. This playlist always calmed you and seemed to play into your soul. A song called “What’s Good” by Fenne Lily started playing and you went to the middle of the mat to stretch. Starting with your arms, you swung them around and made sure each joint was ready to support your body weight. After you were comfortable with your arms, shoulders, and neck, you moved onto your legs. First stretch out your feet and calves, you knew your main focal point would be your hamstrings. You had pulled you hamstring your first campaign and it always got sore faster than your other muscles did, but you were cleared to perform after 6 months of physical therapy. You did your 3 splits and lung style stretches to warm up your thighs, hamstring, and your inner thigh. After finishing with a handstand, you were ready to practice. You walked to your phone and put on your routine instrumental.

You went to the corner and took a deep breath, closing your eyes before reopening them and looking at the other corner, imagining yourself sticking the landing and nailing your routine. You took a few steps back and began running. You let your body do what it already knew how to and trusted yourself as you jumped and let your feet leave the mat, only to be replaced by your hands as you propelled yourself off the ground and flipped.

You landed on your feet, for only a moment before pushing yourself up higher for another. You had reached the opposite corner of the mat once your feet hit the ground. You stuck the landing throwing your arms up in a pose, before taking a step back to complete your second run. You did your jump again and took off again, propelling yourself to do a pike.

Once you landed your hands shot back up in a pose, before doing your final run. You ran and did a flip before landing and doing a jumping split.

You did your final few poses and your routine was over. You put your arms down and began focusing on slowing your breathing a bit. You heard clapping from behind and you turned to the door to see Lance standing there smiling.

“That was really fucking good.” He walked towards the mat and you went to turn off your playlist, grabbing your bottle of water and meeting him on the side of the mat.

“Thanks, it’s a new routine so it needs a lot of work still.”

“No. It’s honestly pretty great. Congratulations, I think it’s worth a gold medal kid.”

You beamed at him and sat down, stretching your legs a bit more.

“Do you feel better than yesterday?”

“Yeah I slept pretty good. So, I think that helped.”

“Good. I’m happy, I can’t have my best gymnast injuring herself over her bs family.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“It just let’s her win.” Lance sat down next to you. “If you wanna annoy her, don’t let what she says get to you. Make it so you could give less than 2 shits what she says. I also have another idea too.”

“And what is that Mister Helpful?”

“Well you said your mom has a charity thing next week right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well what if, I came with you, and pretended that I was your boyfriend so your mom won’t give you shit?”

You choked on the water that you had been drinking. “What?”

“It’ll solely be so you can stop worrying about your mother’s approval, and can focus on trials in 2 weeks.”

“You’re joking right?”

“No. What I’m not good enough to be your fake boyfriend?”

“No, I’d just never fucking date you.”

“You’re acting as if I’m gonna actually try to date you. I don’t do the dating thing.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Lance stood up, getting annoyed now. “Ok fine, fuck you then. I don’t need to do this. I want you to stop acting like a little bitch, but whatever, be fucking miserable for all I care.” Lance pulled out his phone and started walking away.

“Lance, wait.”

He turned around and smirked. “Yeah?”

“Will you still do it?”

“Maybe, if you get on your knees,” He leaned his head down and looked at you through the tops of his eyes. “and beg.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Hey, I’m fucking with you. Yes, I’ll still do it, if you’ll cut the shit.”

You smiled and jumped up, hugging him. He was so tall your feet came off the ground. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged back. Once you were back on the ground, you looked up at him.

“I’m going to call her and let her know I’ll be bringing my “boyfriend” with to the party.”

“Alright, I’m sure this is going to be,” Lance took a second and rolled his eyes with his hands on his hips. “fun?” His toned laced with sarcasm. You responded with an eye roll as well.

“It was your idea.”

“Don’t remind me. When you’re done run the routine again. I’m going to check on the others.” Lance turned around, popping his gum and walking back into the main room.

@lancefuckrr ( hi you said to tag you, I hope you like it and send me your thoughts. It means so much to me)
Restraint

Daveed Diggs x Reader

Word Count: 2312

Request/Summary: This wasn’t requested, it’s a fake dating AU in which you invite Diggs to your high school reunion.

Warnings: None, just cussing and unrequited love.

Tagging: Long ago @whatdimissmotherfuckers asked to be tagged in this so… (it did NOT go as planned. but I like it. so,)

A/N: Please enjoy! Let me know what you thought, if things go as planned, there will be three parts!

Masterlist | Ask Box | Restraint | Stupidity | Infatuation | Fantasy


You sighed through your teeth, fiddling with the corner of the invitation in your hand, its shiny surface reflected the flickering light above you. You should go. You exhaled again and dragged yourself up from the couch, scouring the area backstage for Daveed. “Daveed.” You stated when you saw him.

“That is my name.”

“Let’s be honest. You’re the hottest guy here,” you started

“I would argue that Leslie is the hottest guy here.” Daveed countered, his teeth showing as a smile crinkled his eyes.

“Hey!” Thayne and Anthony harmonized, causing you to stifle a cackle.

“Anyway. My high school reunion is coming up,” Daveed grinned. “What are you smiling at?” You asked, suspicious.

“Nothing.” He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively and sniffling softly.

“Well, I need to rub in their faces how successful I am.” You continued hesitantly. “And… I need a fake boyfriend.”

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