lit pub

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
—  e.e. cummings, from “somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond”, 100 Selected Poems [Grove Press, Inc. NY 1959]

anonymous asked:

The Prince & Me AU!!

“I still can’t believe you dragged us into this.” 

Viktor Nikiforov, Crown Prince of Petersburg, looks up from where he’d been examining the young man at the bar of this dimly-lit pub through the end of his beer glass. Setting it down on its coaster, he sends his brightest smile at his young assistant, Yuri Plisetsky, who is picking at the maraschino cherry in his Shirley Temple with some distaste. 

“I distinctly remember telling you that you didn’t have to come with me,” he points out. 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Right, and leave you to fend for yourself at some university in a completely foreign country? I like my head where it’s currently attached, thanks.”

“I can take care of myself,” defends Viktor.

“….Which one of us is the one who’s cooking in the mornings?”

Viktor purses his lips. “Point,” he concedes. He looks over at Yuri’s empty glass. “Want another? I’ll get it.”

“Thanks,” says Yuri, with some sullenness, as he hands Viktor some wadded-up bills. Viktor chuckles, getting up and heading over to the bar. The music pulses through the room along with the beat of his heart as he nears the young man at the counter, who’s currently filling a glass of beer for someone. 

VIktor waits until the other person has departed before leaning towards the young man with his best and brightest smile. “Hi,” he offers. 

The young man flushes. He’s pretty cute, Viktor realises, with bright brown eyes behind blue-rimmed glasses and messy dark hair. His dark collared shirt is rolled up to the elbows with the top button open, exposing a tantalising glimpse of lightly tanned skin. “What can I get you?” he asks, in a neutral tone. Viktor’s smile widens.

“What do you recommend?”

The young man regards him curiously. “Well, I suppose you can’t go wrong with the Pilsner, but if you’re from out of town I suggest you try the Stroh. A little bit of the local flavour.”

“I’ll take one of those. And a Shirley Temple.”

The young man hums, going to the tap to fill him a glass. “You sound like you’re not from around here,” he points out.

“No,” replies Viktor. “International student.”

“Where from?” The young man looks up at Viktor through his lashes, and god. This is going to be good. Viktor fixes his gaze a little lower, at the remaining buttons on the man’s shirt. 

“Petersburg,” he replies. The young man hums.

“Never heard of it,” he says, though there’s a slight hint of red at the tips of his ears.

“We’re a pretty small country,” concedes Viktor. “We’re near Russia.”

The young man makes an ‘ah’ of recognition. He’s now mixing the Shirely Temple, the bright red of the grenadine syrup fading into pink as he adds soda. 

“We do speak Russian, though,” Viktor continues, watching the young man separate out a maraschino cherry and drop it into the glass. “I know Americans aren’t too enthusiastic about Russia, but the language is at least very beautiful.”

“I’m sure,” says the young man. He hands Viktor both drinks. 

Viktor smiles again, extending his hand. “I’m Viktor,” he says.

The young man nods. “Yuuri,” he replies, shaking it. His hand is warm in Viktor’s, and it takes him a moment to remember what he really came here for. But he does remember, and tilts his head at Yuuri with what he hopes is a charming smile.

“So… will you take your top off for me?”

Yuuri blinks at him. “What?” he asks.

“Take your top off. You know, like in Wild College Boys.”

Yuuri gapes at him. Maybe he didn’t understand? Viktor tries to elucidate. 

“You know, it’s one of those shows where they get –”

But he doesn’t get much farther, because Yuuri seizes the soda gun and sprays him with it. Spluttering from the sudden soda to his face (and all over his shirt), Viktor stumbles back and feels more than sees Yuri dragging him out of the bar and into the crisp autumn night.

I’m drunk and you are requesting fic prompts. My friends have been beautiful and inspired me. So here: “I can’t have you being sexy when I’m trying to concentrate.” “I’m your wife! I *know* you.” “Cruel! You’re not the man I married!” (That last was said while climbing up a steep hill.)





Everyone knows that being an exceptional mother involves making the best choices for yourself as well as your family on a daily basis. The adult experience on the opposing end of the spectrum? Participating in a hen night.  You’re expected to depart from the norm to be completely hedonistic for the evening as you drink and carouse to show support for your fellow woman. These two contrasting expectations just didn’t make any rational sense to Dr. Claire Beauchamp but when Marsali asked her to attend, she felt she couldn’t decline. Her future daughter-in-law was far too sweet to disappoint by not spending a short amount of time at the event.

Seven hours and multiple adult beverages later, a more than slightly drunk Claire called her husband to pick her up. She had struggled just trying to find her mobile in the dimly lit pub and had dropped it several times when she was talking to Jamie. He let out a snort when she failed to remember her own location.

“I can’t have you being sexy when I’m trying to concentrate!” she slurred. “Wait! I remember now. We’re at The Last Drop, on Grassmarket.”

“I’ll be there shortly, mo nighean donn.” he soothed. “I’m glad you had fun at Marsali’s wee party.”

“You think I’m pissed out of my mind, don’t you?” she demanded. “I’m your wife! I know you.”

He summoned all his strength to not laugh out loud again. It wasn’t easy, but he used the din of last call to pretend he couldn’t hear her.

“I love you, too! I’ll see you soon.”

He arrived to find her waiting out front chatting to Marsali and Fergus. His son had arrived in town the night before and hadn’t made the trip to his parents’ house yet.

“I see you’re taking good care of your Mum!” Jamie called. “That’s a good lad. Marsali! It’s good to see you as well.”

He hugged the pair closely, “Thank you for giving me a ring, Marsali. You’re absolute gold.” he whispered.

Claire tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Can we stop and get something on the way home? I’m starving!” she said with a yawn.

He took her hand gently and kissed it. “You have a date with our bed, love. I happen to know we have some delicious Shepherd’s pie at home.”

“Cruel!” she sighed. “You’re not the man I married.”

y’all wanna know what i really want? really, like what reboot i’d really want them to do? fuck new characters. give me a show about the amazing characters we already got

gimme mulan 

i wanna see mulan as a fucking heartbroken mercenary stomping her way across the enchanted forest. for a little while, she’d been with the merry men, briefly, it felt right. she wanted to do good again. but then when things caught up to her—she became a sword for hire and she ran, ran straight into a wolf who made her second guess herself. 

but then ruby went and broke her heart all over again and she thought about going back to the merry men but when did stealing from the rich ever make her feel better? what did the poor ever do for her? what did anyone do for her? who was the last person who looked out for her? 

the world has done nothing but take and take from mulan and she’s fucking done. so she corners will scarlet in a lowly lit pub and convinces him to be her partner. they’ve both lost best friends, lost princesses, and they’ve lost the grounded, kind women that followed. they’ve lost love and honor so many times over and they’re done giving a fuck

so a mercenary of one becomes a team of two

it’s the perfect partnership. will’s a smart ass but he’s the strategist. he’s finds the marks, he sets the traps. mulan’s dry and sarcastic and cleans her nails with her blade but she’s the muscle. and best of all, there’s no danger of falling in love

they’re blades for hire and they traipse the realms in search of gold and the fleeting company of women and that’s all they need damnit and they really did not need to sign up for the rescuing and returning of a princess who has been turned into a frog and can’t find a single man to break her curse……….

also a love interest for will who i haven’t headcanoned yet but like i know this will not happen. we’d never be so lucky. but honest to god abc give me a fairytale mercenaries story lead by a woc with platonic, unexpected best friends and a queer romance. give it to me!!!!

Dating Trent Seven would include...

Originally posted by iheartwrestling

💕 Trent is a very old fashioned gentleman 

💕 Battling for the bathroom because Trent does take a considerable time grooming his beard. 

💕 Trent taking you out for dinner dates. Mainly cute little bistro’s dimly lit places and pubs. He prefers corner tables/booths or anything near the back to ensure privacy. 

💕 Trent has this roughish charm, while he’s the perfect gentlemen in every definition of the world. He has a very cheeky side that is often reserved for you and you alone. 

💕 Ass Grabbing. 

💕 Trent tickling you with his beard/moustache 

💕 Wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

💕 Trent loves kissing your lips softly, he often does it as a greeting. 

💕 Being close friends with Pete and Tyler. 

💕 Trent grabbing your face to kiss you 

💕 Calling you Love or Sweetheart

💕 Trent sending you presents while he’s away travelling 

💕 Regular skype calls 

💕 He needs to hear your voice. 

💕 Whenever he’s away travelling he misses you like crazy so daily contact is a definite must. 

💕 You going to wearing he may be performing to surprise you. 

💕 Trent is the first one to say I love you. 

💕 Whenever you two are able to spend quality time together, Trent is always determined to make the time memorable. 


Hey, everyone, we have a Parental Prompt list so please feel free to send us a request. Simply send us the Prompt number(s), the WWE Superstar and the gender of the child and we’ll do the rest. 


Taglist; @i-kneel-for-king-loki @littledeadrottinghood @m-a-t-91 @straight-outta-the-asylum @lip-sync @itsstephaniemcmahon @unhinged-on-the-fringe @thebutterflygirl16 @youhoebag @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @insearchofsunlight @guatebabyxo
@wweimagines-oneshots @xsimplynaex @macfizzle @sassyenthusiasthistorylover333 @xuhwheredidkylogox @driv3mys0ulx

Never Again

* Laurens × Reader
* 166: I’m so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend
* Hamiltime

A/N: and here is the story I promised! It’s basically 90% fluff and 10% other…I don’t think it even qualifies and angst. So just enjoy a cute fluffy John Laurens imagine! As usual with my Laurens stories, this is longer than I initially planned, but oh well!

~~

“We’ll tell the story of tonight!” You smiled fondly at your life-long friend John Laurens and his new friend Alexander Hamilton.

“Let’s have another round mes amies!” Your French friend suggested. As exepcted, the other two men as well as Hercules gladly agreed. You, however, turned them down initially. Someone needed to keep a level head among the group. But tonight was different.

Tonight all your rambunctious friends were talking about revolution. While you agreed with their stance on freedom, you hated the way they talked about it. They were all willing to be martyrs for the cause but the thought scared you. The silly Lafayette or kind hearted Hercules. Even the quick witted Alexander who you’d just met. They were all so dear to you. Especially John Laurens.

Tan skin and freckles along with curly hair. Not to mention his kindness and sharpness of the mind. He was studying law at his father’s request but you knew he really wanted to study science. He had such skill with with pencils and charcoal, you enjoyed the days spent with him when you could watch him get lost in a drawing project. You grew up along side the Laurens, growing close to their eldest son. He became your best friend, teasing you and protecting you. Along the way, you had fallen head over heels for him. It was stupid, you told yourself, he didn’t see you like that. How could he? He had known you when you were little girl and when you were an awkward teenager. While he had been along side you at some of your best moments, he had been there for your worst too. Still, you regretfully admit that you were horribly in love with him.

So you accepted another round, much to the surprise of your friends. You needed to forget about this impending war in which your friends would be walking into a spray of bullets. You needed to forget about your best friend who you loved.

“Hey uh Y/N?” John voiced, trying to get your attention.

“Yeah?” You responded happily. Your mind was buzzing and you were carefree, or maybe you were just drunk. As long as you weren’t over thinking, you didn’t care.

“Maybe you should slow down.” John suggested. He looked at you, his brown eyes full of concern.

“There you go again.” You slurred, your drunk mind was bypassing your verbal filter. “You looking out for me like always.”

“Yep.” John agreed with a hint of a nervous smile. You were clearly drunk at this point, making him very worried. “And I’ll continue to do just that. Starting with cutting you off.”

“But why?” You whined. You stuck out your bottom lip, pouting like a child.

He chuckled. The sound pulled a large smile from you, your inebriated mind was apparently trying to reveal the affection you’d kept hidden for so long. “Because you speech is slurred and your pouting like a five-year old.” He reached out and gently tapped your nose. A blush covered your cheeks and though you wished it was the alcohol, you knew it was from the simple touch. “Lafayette, can you please escort Y/N safely home?” He asked.

“Why can’t you?” You asked without thinking. Honestly, it was probably for the best that he didn’t. If he walked you home there was no telling what you’d do in your drunken state. Still, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

“Because I have some things to discuss further with Alexander.” He explained. “But I don’t want you here any longer. You don’t need easy access to any more alcohol. So Laf, you got her?”

“Oui mon amie. I shall escort Y/N safely home.” Lafayette said and stood. He walked over to your seat and held out a hand. “Shall we go mademoiselle?”

You pouted, wanting to stay with John longer, but stood anyway; with Lafayette’s help of course. “I guess.”

“We’ll see you soon Y/N.” Hercules said as a goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you.” That was Alexander.

“It’ll check up on you in the morning, alright?” John asked.

“Alright John.” You slurred while giving him a dazed smile, cheeks still pink.

Lafayette walked you from the bar, your arm wrapped around his. You were walking down the street, past all the faintly lit restaurants and pubs. “Hey Laf.” You said suddenly.

“Hm?” He wondered and looked down at you.

“We should go get more drinks.” You suggested a bit loudly. You were still very buzzed but the more alcohol you had, the less you thought or worried about your friends and hopeless crush.

“Mon amie, what is wrong with you tonight?” Lafayette asked you. “You usually refuse more than two rounds. I’ve never seen you drunk before. Tonight you drank more then Hercules.” He continued walking to get you away from the bars.

“I’m fine Laf.” You said in a drawn out slur. “Everything is just fine.” You singsonged.

“I should’ve known you’d be a happy drunk.” He chuckled. “But I also know you’re lying. I’ve known you for far too long.”

“Oh nothing.” You sighed. “I’m just an idiot.” You reached your door and pulled a key from your purse. You grumbled as you tried slotting the key into the keyhole.

Lafayette took the key from you and unlocked the door. “You are not an idiot mademoiselle. Why do you think that?” He guided you in and had you sit on the couch while he went to go make some tea in the hopes of sobering you up before sending you to sleep of the alcohol.

“I’m stupid, so horribly stupid.” You babbled, tears stinging your eyes. Lafayette abandoned the tea in favor of comforting you. He sat next to and rubbed comforting circles on your back. “I’m so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend.” You missed the way his eyes widened. “And I can’t do anything either! He doesn’t like me in the same way and we have such a good friendship and I don’t want to ruin it! He would hate me if I told him that I was hopelessly in love with him!”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Why you admitted that, you didn’t know. No, you did know. You were drunk, horribly drunk and had no filter right now. It was a miracle you left that bar with out blabbing to John how you felt.

“Mademoiselle, please lay down. Get some sleep alright? We can discuss this further after your are sober.” Lafayette pleaded. “I don’t want you to tell me something you’ll later regret admitting.”

“How am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, tears still falling. You mind was running a mile a minute, your thoughts spinning like a hurricane and thoughts of John were the calm in the eye of the storm; the moment of calm before the waves rolled widely once more.

“Mon cheri, I’m sure you will fall asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.” He assured you. He took your hands to get you to your bed. He tucked you in and you were asleep before you heard the shut door click shut behind Lafayette.

You woke up with a groan. Your head was pounding and you felt a bit gross. You were still in the same clothes as yesterday and your hair was still done up for your night out. You need something to drink and clear your head. Last night was just a hazy darkness and you remembered little past meeting Alexander.

Your door squeaked up and you sat up quickly, causing more pain to your head. “Hey, easy there.” It was John. He was standing next to your bed, a cup of tea in his hand. His eyes were looking at you in concern. He sat down on the edge of the bed and handed you the steaming cup. “You were out cold when I got here so I figured I’d make you some tea.”

You sipped the tea. “Is this what a hangover feels like? Cause if it is, never let me get drunk again.” You said, the pain in your head was translating to a pained voice.

“Yeah it is.” He said with a slight smile. “I’ve had my fair share.”

“Oh I know.” The roles were reversed as you used to check on John after he got drunk. “Like when you first got drunk at 16. If I wasn’t there, your dad would’ve probably killed you.”

“Now I can watch out for you.” You sat and talked as you finished the tea. He took the cup and gave you an opportunity to change and brush your hair.

You walked out and found him looking through your shelves of books. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You guestioned. You rubbed your temples willing the ache to go away.

“Sick of me already?” He teased.

“No!” You said a bit to quickly judging by the confusion on his face. “Uh I mean no I’m not but I don’t want you missing your classes or anything because I was stupid enough to get drunk.” You amended.

“Actually I should get going back to the college. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” He said a small smile.

“Thank you, John.” You told him. You saw him out and shut the door behind him. You leaned you forehead against the cool wood. At least you didn’t tell him your feeling last night. You could hardly be in the same room as him without your heart pounding and feeling a fluttering in your stomach.

You let out a broken sob and wrapped your arms around John. He was suited up in a blue coat and looked every inch the soldier he always aspired to be. He was leaving to go to the encampment, leaving you behind to worry endlessly. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tightly.

“I’ll be back Y/N. I swear.” He promised in a whisper, his mouth next to your ear.

You pulled back, just enough to look at him. “You better be.” You warned, trying to sound demanding. Instead to came out sounding more like a broken plea.

John smiled at you, a ting of sadness in it. He cupped your face and wiped away the tears on your cheeks. You stared at him, remembering the way his hair looked tied back. Memorizing the pattern of freckles on his cheeks. “Y/N?” He questioned your stare.

“Hm?” You eyes snapped up to his.

“You ok?” He asked.

“Huh? Oh well not really, not with you leaving.” You sniffed and blinked back a few tears. “But I’ll be alright.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “No.” You admitted quietly and looked down and your feet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked. He hooked two fingers under your chin and tilted your face back up to him. More tears came at the concerned look in his eyes.

“You’re leaving John.” You cried, tears falling down. John hurried to wipe them away. “You’re leaving me and I may never get the chance to-” you stopped. Your emotions where running high and you couldn’t admit this now. He was leaving and it was unfair to him. Of course then if he hated you he’d be free to leave you. And you may never get the chance to speak to him again.

“May never get the chance to do what?” He asked. You looked at him, still conflicted.

Screw it.

You leaned forward and kissed him soundly. If he hated you, so be it. You weren’t going to spend your whole life wondering what this would be like. At least if he didn’t make it home, he knew how you truly felt about him.

You pulled away and looked back at your feet. “I may never get the chance to tell you how feel.” You said. You were sure you were a sight. Tears streaming down your face, nose running with the tears, unceremoniously kissing your best friend. What on earth is he going to think of you know?

“Y/N.” He said softly. You didn’t dare look at him. He was going to reject you and leave you worrying and longing for a man you couldn’t have. “Y/N.” He said more firmly, once more tilting your face back to his, catching your gaze. You lip wobbled, his gaze intense.

“I’m am going to write you every day and the day I get back I’m going to court you properly. And after some time,” he reached down and and grabbed you left hand and brought it close to his mouth. “I’ll put a ring on this finger.” With that he lightly pressed his lips to your ring finger.

You breath caught as he looked up at you. “But first.” He leaned in and kissed you properly. His arms around your waist and lips pressed to yours. His eyes were closed, savoring the moment and your eyes fluttered closed as well. Your arms hooked around his torso and you clutched the back of his jacket tightly in your hands. He pulled back, eyes still closed. “I’m not going to leave you behind. Never my dear Y/N.” He vowed.

“You better not.” You tried ordering once more. You voice was less broken than before but it was still more of a plea than a command.

He leaned his forehead against yours. He was brushing hair from your face and stared into your eyes. You gazed back, taking in all the affection in the dark eyes in front of you. “Never.”

John kept his promise and wrote you endlessly, sometimes getting multiple letters to you before you could respond. Every now and then a letter had an extra paper. This extra paper was always a drawing of his, showing his ability to find, or make, something beautiful even in war.

Lafayette wrote you asking why John was so happy. After a few letters you realized that during your drunken haze you must have told him how you felt.

John had written detailing his plan to go to South Carolina and free enough slaves to lead the first black battalion. His excitement was so obvious in his written words that your could practically hear him. You could almost see the beaming smile as Washington confirmed his plan. Or the way his foot would be excitingly tapping as he wrote you.

But Alexander had also wrote you. He explained they may have a way to get the British to surrender. What if word didn’t reach South Carolina in time?

The day of the battles all you could do was pace. You were surprised you hadn’t put a rut in the carpet as you walked over the same space multiple times. You walked to the window as church bells went off, all the churches in the town seemed to be ringing their bells. People were running out into the street in celebration. The Union must have done it. They must have defeated the bloody British! The country was…free.

Now you had to wait for your boys to come home. And slowly but surely they did. Hercules was always here at his shop. Alexander came home from Yorktown and Lafayette a few days later from Chesapeake Bay. But no sign of John.

You were bent over your kitchen counter making some supper. You paused taking a shuttering breath. You found this happening more and more, you couldn’t focus on anything you were more focused on whether or not John was alive.

A scream left your throat as some hands came around your waist. You spun, arms still loosely clasped around you, and found John smiling face. His eyes were bright with mirth and happiness, his freckled cheeks lifted up in a smile. His curls weren’t tied back but hanging down to his shoulders. “John?” You asked in breathless surprise.

“Word barely reach South Carolina in time. Another hour and we’d be in battle. I promised I wouldn’t leave you.” He told you, that doopy smile never leaving his face. You ran a hair through his loose curls. Your hand found its way to the back of his head, hair still threaded between your fingers. You pulled his face down to yours and crashed you lips against his. He responded in kind and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you against him. The other hand mirrored yours and tangled itself in your hair.

He pulled back with a gasp. “I’ve missed you so much.” He accepted his statement with another kiss. “Now Y/N, will you allow me to properly court you?” He asked looking at you hopefully, as if you’d say no.

“Only if you can promise me one thing.” You challenged. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Promise me you’ll never leave me again.”

He kissed you soundly once more. “Never again my dear. Never again.”

Leaky Cauldron | Open

It’d been a hectic month for Arthur between work and the family and he was starting to drain. It was wrong for him to be selfish when Molly took care of the kids the majority of the time but it was hard not to be when Arthur could not remember the last time he had done anything without the kids or the ministry breathing down his back. He loved being a father but sometimes he forgot what it felt like to be just Arthur Weasley. 

After work he had decided that he would pop by the Leaky Cauldron, not for long but just an hour to enjoy a beer and sit. Of course he had spoken to Molly and told her that he would be home a little later than usual but he just really needed to unwind. So that’s how he got to the quiet back table in the dimly lit pub, a beer between his hands as he just sat enjoying the very few moments he had to relax.

episode fic meme: Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel

Ages back I did a meme where people sent me DW episodes and I wrote a ficlet relating to it. pulledacross gave me “Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel” and… now four months later, it’s finally done.

~1500 words of mostly fluff.

The Doctor lingered in the hallway by the door to Rose’s bedroom, unsure what he ought to do next.

They’d been staying at Jackie’s for two days now, ever since the TARDIS had made it back to its rightful universe with one fewer occupant. Rose had spent most of that time with her mother or her friend Shareen, and the Doctor had done his best to give her a wide berth. Accident or not, it was his TARDIS that had landed them on that parallel Earth, and that meant he was partially responsible for the fallout.

He’d hoped some time back home would help her recalibrate, but he was beginning to wonder if that had been a mistake. Maybe being here was just causing her to wallow. Perhaps they’d be better off traveling, reminding her what good the TARDIS had to offer. That was the conventional wisdom about horse riding, wasn’t it? If you let one fall deter you, you might stop riding altogether.

Or maybe those were his own insecurities bleeding through.

This might be precisely what Rose needed. What did he know? His own coping mechanisms certainly weren’t always ironclad. Maybe what was best for Rose would be if he backed away unnoticed and left her in peace.

“I can feel you staring, you know,” she said, gesturing with her head for him to come join her.

Well, nevermind.

Keep reading

The Love

A/N: This took me waaaay longer than I had hoped it would, but finally here is Part 1 of my three part story (Part 2 here). This is Rae and Finn’s first time as shown on the show. So there is smut ahead, be warned! I’d also like to point out that I haven’t written smut in forever so I’m not promising it to be good and also English isn’t my first language so, sorry for any mistakes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (3021 words)

_____________________________________________________

Finn pulled his jacket tighter around his body. After Archie had called him and told him to come meet the gang at the pub he had wasted no time in pulling on his boots and flinging on his jacket before making a run for the door. His dad had shouted something after him, that much Finn knew, but he was too preoccupied with thoughts of seeing Rae again to really listen or care.

The cooling night air made Finn shiver and he was happy when he could finally make out the lights of the pub in the distance. A few hours ago, when he was sitting in his old room again, listening to some records, he had thought about what he would say to Rae. Finn knew that they needed to talk. They needed to talk about them, about her problems and about the things that broke them apart. It was important to him. He had missed his girl more than he thought he would and he had made up his mind to finally sort through all of their bullshit with her.

A fresh start he thought. That’s all he really wanted. But how am I going to get Rae to talk to me? Lying on his bed he had thought up the exact words he would say to her, an alaborate speech to get her to open up, to get her to realize her feelings for him. But now, standing only a few feet away from the pub he didn’t feel quite so sure anymore.  

Keep reading

Beauty and Mr Charming: Chapter 8

TITLE: Beauty and Mr Charming

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: Eight


AUTHOR tomcuddlesfic

WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom

GENRE: romance / fluff 

FIC SUMMARY: After being let go of her temp job, Stella finds herself in a sticky situation when her flatmate, a bearded and poorly dressed man named Tom, leans in for a kiss and only finds cheek. Staying friends and not lovers, Stella is in complete shock when Tom completely transforms from looking like a slob to suddenly someone…hot.  Can she sort out her emotions for Tom in time before it’s too late?

RATING: T

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Thank you to all who have sent in messages and feedback! This is the second last chapter and I haven’t written the last one yet so this is a danger area. Let’s see if I have the motivation to write the last chapter this week. I would love to hear what you guys think! Much love :)

Chapter 1 \ Chapter 2Chapter 3 \ Chapter 4 \ chapter 5 \ Chapter 6 \ Chapter 7 

Keep reading

Game theory - Chapter 1

 A big, big thank you to hartfic and dabblingdabbler who so kindly beta’d  (? dat a word?) this chapter and please do leave feedback in my askbox if you feel like, it will be greatly appreciated! 

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Prologue here 

Hartbig, SFW, SFF, 2,900 words.

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“Tomorrow afternoon, around… half past three, maybe?”

Hannah is on the phone when Grace comes out of the shower, wet hair dripping on her t-shirt.

“Yeah, I’ll call you when I land. I miss you too. Night, babe.”

Hannah yawns, her eyes can barely stay open and when did Grace get so tall?

“Hannah? What are you doing on the floor?”

“What?”

At some point during the call she bent down on her knees, tracing pattern on the carpet, and then felt that maybe the carpet was very soft, and sort of warm, and standing wasn’t appealing at all. So she sat, her back leaning against Grace’s bed.

“I am guessing we’re not going for that drink after all.” Grace asks, amused.

Keep reading

Preference {1} How You Met (Part 2)

So…it was requested that I do a second part to my first preference ever, and I had fun with it, even though I’m not too happy with the writing…I hope you enjoy it, though, Lovelies! And requests are ALWAYS open, no matter how many I have left to do…Lol.

- Chrissy

Master List

Part 1

Harry: At a Signing.

                It had been two whole days since the signing, where Harry had given you his number. The ink had long since faded on your hand, but you had already put the contact into your phone.

                Now…you just had to call him.

                But all of your fears and doubts kept you from doing the thing most fans would have already done.

                For some reason, Harry had taken an interest in you, and you really didn’t want to mess this up.

                However, if you never called him…you wouldn’t take the opportunity that had presented itself to you. At least, if you called him, there was only a fifty percent chance that you would ruin it.

                You were about to take the plunge when you realized…you had no idea what to talk about.

                Sure, the beginning of any conversation was easy. All of the participants greeted each other and asked about their general well-being, but what comes after that?

                Small talk and getting to know the person.

                You didn’t know what questions to ask or topics to bring up.

                This was your celebrity crush that you were calling!

                They don’t write “How To” books on that!

                This was a special case; you had gotten lucky.

                So you owed it to the rest of the One Direction fan population to do this.

                “‘ello?”

                You swallowed back the nerves and managed to utter, “Hi, Harry. Um…this is the girl from the signing the other day…the one you gave your number to?”

                There was a brief silence on the line, and you were worried that he had forgotten about you, that he didn’t know who the Hell was calling him on his personal cell.

                “Oh, yeah! I remember you,” his cheerful voice brought a smile to your once worried face. “I never got your name, though.”

                “I’m Y/N,” you replied, leaning back into the pile of pillows on your bed.

                “Well, it’s nice to finally hear from you, Y/N! How are you?”

                “I’m doing well, thanks for asking. How are you doing?” you bit your bottom lip.

                He sighed, “Just a bit tired. We had a long day today, and there weren’t any pretty girls coming up to me and offering coffee, you know?”

                You blushed and let out a giggle at his compliment, “Well, I’m sorry. I can’t always be there to bring you Starbucks.”

                Harry laughed, “I suppose you’re right. Too bad, though. Seeing you would’ve brightened my day a bit.”

                It took everything you had not to roll around on your bed and squeal. Harry was flirting with you, and to think you almost didn’t call him!

                “Speaking of which, why don’t you and I meet up again? I’m free tomorrow evening, if that’s an okay time for you.”

                Part of you was dying to scream, “Yes!”

                And another part reminded you that you could barely bring yourself to start a conversation with the British hottie. How were you supposed to survive anything longer?

                “Y/N? You still there?” Harry’s voice broke you from your thoughts. “If you can’t make tomorrow, we could always go the following day…”

                “No!” you shouted a little too loudly. “I mean…uh…I’m free tomorrow night.”

                “Great!” his voice was almost as deafening as yours. “We can meet up in the mall at about sixteen o'clock, if that’s okay with you?”

                “That’s fine, but isn’t the mall pretty crowded?” you pointed out, frowning at the idea of girls chasing you through the stores.

                “I’ll be in disguise,” he whispered with a chuckle. “Just give me a call when you arrive, and I’ll come find you.”

                “Sounds good,” you agreed, a smile making its way onto your face.

                “Well, until then, Love. Have a good night.”

                “You, too, Harry, and thank you.”

                “For what?”

                “For inviting me out,” you laughed, sitting up on your knees.

                “Oh…well, thanks for agreeing to go with me!”

                “No problem. Bye, Harry.”

                You hung up the phone, practically glowing from the conversation you had just had.

                Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be so hard after all…

Liam: At the Supermarket.

                “Well, now that I’m done shopping, where would you like to go?” you asked, giving Liam a warm smile. “There are a few restaurants down the street, if you don’t mind walking a little bit.”

                “I don’t mind,” he chuckled, strolling beside you as you made your way out of the market’s parking lot. “Besides, I’m treating you, remember?”

                You nodded, “I do remember, but if you’re paying, I’d feel better if we chose a place you liked.”

                “That’s going to be hard,” he grinned at you. “This is my first time in this town, so I’ve never eaten at any of the places here.”

                “Well,” you turned around, walking backwards in front of him, “I have been to most of these restaurants a handful of times, so all you have to do is tell me what you feel like eating.”

                He smirked at you, “So you’re a restaurant expert?”

                “I guess you could say that,” you grinned. “So what will it be? Italian? Mexican? Lebanese?”

                “How about a pub?” he suggested, grabbing your arm and stopping you from hitting a lamp post. “Careful, Love.”

                You turned pink but still managed mumble a “Sorry.”

                “It’s okay,” his lips stretched into a crooked grin. “I just didn’t want to see someone so pretty get hurt.”

                Now, you were nearly red from his flattery.

                “So…” you tucked a strand hair behind your ear as you walked beside him, “you want Irish food?”

                “Closest thing to home,” he glanced at you. “Are there any good ones around here?”

                “Yes. A few blocks down. It’s called The Grasshopper. It’s a great place,” you began to ramble on. “They decorated it like an old, stone pub you’d see in the Irish countryside, and the food is to die for. I used to go there all the time when I was–” you cut yourself off once you met his brown-eyed gaze. There was laughter in those eyes, and you wondered if you had managed to make a fool of yourself again. “I’m so sorry…I got carried away…”

                You looked away after you had said that, hoping to hide your mortification.

                “You didn’t get carried away,” Liam whispered, taking your hand in his for a split second to bring your stare back to him. “I thought it was cute the way you went on about the place. Seeing you get all excited kind of made me look forward to this even more than I already was.”

                You felt your cheeks warm at his words, “Really?”

                He grinned, “But the way you look right now is even cuter.”

*****

                “That was some of the best Irish cuisine I’ve had in a long time, and I’ve traveled the world,” Liam chuckled as you two exited the dimly-lit pub.

                “I told you their food was to die for.”

                “Well, now I know I can trust you with choosing restaurants.”

                You looked up at him, arching a brow, “Just restaurants?”

                He laughed, shaking his head, “I guess I could trust you with choosing your company. I mean, I am quite an awesome guy.”

                You rolled your eyes at him, but his goofy smile was contagious, “Well, I can’t really argue with that.”

                He stopped laughing when you had said that, making you rethink your words.

                “Really?” he asked, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk.

                Still a bit uncomfortable by the sudden change of mood, you had trouble meeting his gaze, “Well…yeah. You helped me out at the store…and paid for my dinner. You’re really nice, Liam, and you’re funny. I can’t stop smiling when I’m with you, and you’re really smart…”

                “Okay, Y/N. That’s enough,” he chuckled. “You’re making me blush, but I have to admit that I had a great time with you too.”

                It was your turn to blush, “Oh…well…”

                Your stammering stopped when you felt a feathery soft touch on your cheek and something being pushed into your hand.

                Liam drew back from your face, beaming, “Call me. I’d love to do this again.”

Louis: In a Bar.

You didn’t know why it bothered you so much.

                It felt like the first time a guy had asked for your number and never called you. The rejection was painful, especially after it took you a week to realize you were never going to get that call.

                With Louis, it only took you four days, but your heart still ached. You were a One Direction fan from the beginning, and he was always your favorite. It was nice to finally meet him, but he was still a stranger. You had only talked to him for a few minutes, and he was just dumped by his girlfriend. Honestly, what did you expect?

                You kept telling yourself these negative words until you parked your car in front of Gilligan’s.

                Why did you come here?

                You had your hopes up, even though you knew you shouldn’t, but the idea was too beautiful to pass up.

                You’d walk into the bar and see him at the counter, whiskey in hand, but this time, he wouldn’t be trying to drink away his sorrows.

                It sounded so good, and it turned out to be too good to be true because…

                Louis wasn’t there.

                “Hey, Y/N,” Jacob welcomed you with a large grin. “You’re a little earlier than usual.”

                You shrugged, leaning on the bar, “I didn’t really have much to do today.”

                “No?” Jacob furrowed his ginger brows. “That’s not like you, Y/N.”

                You scoffed, your lips curving into a sarcastic smile, “I haven’t exactly been myself lately.”

                “Boy trouble?”

                You rolled your eyes at him and hit his arm playfully, “Shut up.”

                “Ah!” he pointed at you, chuckling. “There it is. There’s the genuine grin.”

                You tried to hide it, but it was no use. Jacob just had a way about him that could make anyone smile.

                “So, what boy is bugging you?” he asked, picking up a glass from underneath the bar. “Your dad and I will go beat him up for you.”

                “No. No,” you shook your head. “It’s not his fault…”

                “Y/N, if there is one thing I know about boys,” he began, scooping some of your favorite ice cream in the glass, “it’s that it’s always their fault.”

                “Yeah?” you chuckled, watching him move to the large mixer behind him. “Then you don’t know much about boys.”

                He threw his head back in laughter and pressed the button on the machine, “Always have to have the last word, don’t you? Even when I’m making your favorite drink?”

                “I never said you had to serve milkshakes at your bar,” you sat up on one of the stools.

                “But you visit your boring, old godfather,” he said, putting the shake in front of you, “so I should have something to keep you coming around.”

                You smiled at him before taking a sip, “Thanks, Jacob.”

                “No problem.”

                While you consumed your drink, the door opened and closed behind you with a bang.

                “Back again?” Jacob’s voice sounded.

                “Yeah.”

                “Well, you’re lucky this time,” Jacob snorted, gesturing to you. “She just got in.”

                You looked over your shoulder at the man who entered the bar. He looked different this time around. He was cleanly shaven and wearing some tidier clothes, but his teal eyes revealed that he was still tired and hurting.

                “Hello, Louis,” you smiled, turning around in your chair to face him fully.

                “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Louis frowned, unable to meet your gaze. “I lost your number…I was drunk, and I guess I misplaced it…”

                You laughed at his mistake, feeling the relief wash down on you as cold and refreshing as the ice cream in your glass.

                “It’s okay, Louis,” you managed in between laughs, “I forgive you.”

                He let out a sigh, letting his shoulders relax as he walked over to you, “I’ve been back here every night since I met you, but Jacob doesn’t know your new number and…”

                You smiled at him, “Well, I’m here now, and this time, you can give me your number.”

Niall: In Your Hometown.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Niall sighed as he brought you backstage. “I tried getting you the best seats, but all our tickets have been sold out for a while…”

                “It’s okay, Niall,” you assured him with a smile. “I’m lucky I’m even here!”

                Niall frowned, “But I should’ve been able to get you a good seat…Unfortunately,” he pulled back the curtain, revealing a crowded stadium and empty stage, “this is the best view I can give you.”

                You honestly couldn’t believe this was happening. You were at a One Direction concert, backstage with your celebrity crush, and you hadn’t paid a cent.

                You had to be dreaming.

                “Believe me, you aren’t dreaming,” Niall laughed, making you realize that you had said your last thought out loud.

                “But…this is so…” you shook your head, staring out at the blinding lights and screaming fans.

                “I know,” Niall followed your gaze, a wide smile lighting up his whole face. “That’s how I feel every time I get out on stage.”

                You looked at him, trying to keep his expression, right now, in this moment, carved into your memory.

                He caught you, though, causing a blush to bloom on your cheeks.

                “Come on,” he said with a lop-sided grin, “I should let the boys know you’re here.”

                You nodded, following him away from the curtains and towards the dressing rooms. He knocked on the first door and put his hands into his pockets, waiting for an answer.

                “Who is it?” Louis’ voice came from the other side.

                “It’s me. Open up.”

                “Patience, young one,” the door opened to reveal a shirtless, smirking Louis, but when he saw you, his whole face converted to utter shock. However, as quickly as the surprise came, it faded, and into an expression that could only be described as devious. “Boys! Niall’s brought us a little guest.”

                “Louis…” Niall narrowed his eyes at him, “what are you up to…?”

                “Oh, nothing,” he grinned, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the room.

                The first thing you noticed when you gained you footing was that the three other members of your favorite boy band were half naked.

                “Y/N!” they all shouted except for Harry, who happened to be chowing down on some Chinese Takeout.

                “Hi, Y/N,” Harry said with a full mouth.

                “You remember me…” you whispered without thinking, causing Louis to throw his head back in laughter.

                “How could we forget you?” Louis asked, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Niall’s been talking about you non-stop.”

                “Shut the fuck up, Louis!” Niall’s hiss came from behind you. You turned to see him glaring at everyone in the room, including Lou, who was silently doing Harry’s hair. “Why are you guys naked?”

                “For the record, Niall,” Liam put a finger in the air while trying to slip on his pants with one hand, “you didn’t tell us you had a girl with you…much less Y/N. So we had no idea that our state of undress would be a problem.”

                “Lou! Say something to these arses!” Niall shouted.

                She shrugged her shoulders, “Honestly, Niall, they wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

                He let out a groan before grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the room.

                “I’m really sorry about that,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he led you back towards the stage. “I didn’t know…”

                “Niall,” you chuckled, putting your hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m not bothered by it.”

                “You aren’t?” he asked, his blue eyes widening.

                “Niall, I just saw my idols half naked. Do you think I’m angry?” you asked with a straight face.

                Niall laughed, “I guess not…I kind of forgot you were a fan for a second…but you didn’t see all your idols naked,” he smirked at you.

                “Sorry, Niall, but when it comes to seeing my celebrity crush naked, there needs to be a few dates first,” you joked, winking at him.

                “Alright. We’ll have our second tomorrow, fifteen o'clock,” he smiled. “I’ll pick you up then.”

Zayn: At a Hotel.

                Minutes later, you were in the pool area.

                Seeing as it was nearly midnight, the place was deserted, leaving you and Zayn to do whatever you pleased.

                “This is great!” you shouted, looking up at the night sky through the glass ceiling.

                Zayn laughed at your excitement, causing you to turn around to face him. He was currently taking off his shirt, pulling the thin, white t-shirt over his head while flexing his muscular arms.

                “What?” he asked, bringing you out of your daze.

                “Huh…? Oh…” you quickly turned away, trying to hide your blushing cheeks.

                Zayn walked passed you, stepping onto the first stair that led into the pool. He twisted around and stared at you, “Aren’t you coming?”

                You suddenly were very aware of the fact that you were wearing a bikini underneath your black cover up. You were insecure about your body sometimes, and when your idol was looking at you, waiting for you to join him in the pool, you kind of felt a little bit on the spot.

                “Um…”

                Zayn gave you a warm smile, “If you want, I’ll look away.”

                Were you that obvious?

                Zayn went onto the second step, turning his back to you, “I’m not looking…”

                You shrugged off your cover up and looked down at your white bikini that, now that you were going to be swimming with Zayn Malik, seemed a bit too revealing. You weren’t always this skinny, and your body had little marks to remind you.

                You hugged yourself and entered the water behind Zayn.

                “Finally decided to join me…?” he trailed off, his eyes growing wide as they checked you out.

                You shuffled your feet uncomfortably, not used to being under a gaze as intense as Zayn’s.

                “You’re beautiful,” he said, moving his eyes from your skin to your face. “I mean it.”

                You couldn’t keep your mouth from curving upward into a small grin, “Than–”

                “Cannon ball!”

                “Louis! They were having a moment!” Harry shouted once Louis had resurfaced, whipping his wet hair across his forehead.

                “Hey, guys!” he gasped as he swam over to you.

                “Hi…” Zayn murmured, frowning at the interruption.

                “I tried to stop him, Zayn,” Harry said, shrugging off his shirt. “I really did.”

                Zayn just shrugged before turning back to you, “Do you want to swim…or would you mind joining me in the hot tub?”

                “Um…actually…” you leaned forward, whispering into his ear, “I’d rather get revenge.”

                Zayn’s face brightened as he nodded in agreement, “Sounds good to me.”

                “Would you two lovebirds like to share with the rest pool?” Louis asked, popping up beside you.

                “Yes, actually,” Zayn smirked, putting his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “Drown, Louis!”

                “Wha–” Louis was cut off by the water entering his mouth as Zayn dunked him under.

                The room filled with laughter, and when Louis came up, spitting out the highly chlorinated water, you swear you couldn’t breathe.

                “That wasn’t nice at all!” Louis exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair.

                “You deserved it,” Zayn said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Come on, let’s go enjoy the hot tub.”

                “Sounds like fun!” Louis said, climbing the stairs behind you.

                “Too bad you aren’t invited,” Zayn said over your shoulder.

                “Sorry, Louis!” you said as Zayn led you away.

*****

                “Well, I think that was the most fun I’ve had all day,” Zayn remarked as he settled down in the burning water. “Thanks for the idea, Y/N.”

                “No problem,” you sighed, leaning your head back against the blue tile.

                You both sat there in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the tub and each other’s quiet company.

                “Y/N?” Zayn whispered your name, bringing you back from the brink of sleep.

                “Hmm?” you opened your eyes.

                “Do you think…we could meet up for breakfast tomorrow?” he avoided your gaze, finding the broken tile next to him fascinating.

                You smiled, “I’d love to, but…I’m warning you. I’m not much of a morning person.”

                Zayn laughed, “Don’t worry about that, Love. I’m not either.”

A Light That Never Goes Out: Chapter 6

Summary: Sakura knows the anatomy of a human heart like the back of her hand—as if the dark, green veins that snake across her bony knuckles made up a map to the various chambers of the organ. Her own heart is more of a mystery. All she knows about it is that two idiots make the whole of it, and she will not let one die, when the other has just come home.

Pairing: sasusaku

Rating: M

Prologue | Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter 6: Chaos and the Calm

Kakashi looked out his window.

The sun was out, bright and eager against the deep turquoise of the morning sky. Engulfed in light and unapologetic vigor, the village bustled about its business, unperturbed by the subtle echoes from the recent war that still rang against the cobbled ground under their feet. From within the confines of his office, Kakashi could imagine the smell of the fresh, crisp air permeating across the streets of Konoha, feel the cool breeze undulating against the thick veil of his mask. It was that kind of a day, the kind that urged you to unclasp the albatross from around your neck and will it away.

And yet here he was—dangling somewhere between mild amusement and near, definite aggravation. The carcass around his neck very much still there.

He turned around and considered the man pacing about in his office.

He did not know the Raikage very well, but he did know two things about the burly Kumo leader for certain; he valued his little brother more than life itself (despite said brother’s inane fixation with desecrating rap music), and he despised Sasuke beyond all reason. Kakashi understood his potent dislike to an extent. Sasuke had indeed set amaterasu on the Raikage, forcing him to cauterize his own arm. But calling an international summit for the sole purpose of discussing his prison break seemed a bit much, especially considering every village was knees deep in post-war rehabilitation. Rumor had it that when the news reached Kumo, the Raikage had punched a wall into oblivion. Coupled with some of the other rumors that Kakashi had heard about the man, this did not seem all that unlikely.

The Hokage office was quite large, but given that the Raikage was a man of considerable build, the wide space in front of Kakashi’s desk was easily swallowed whole by three or four of the bigger man’s steps. As he moved about the room, the exposed muscles of his arms rippled with ire and indignation. Behind him, the representatives sent by the rest of the three hidden villages sat mutely, their nervousness evident in the twiddling of thumbs and the pursed lips that gave a lot more away than they probably would have liked.

“Unacceptable,” the Raikage bellowed, voice just severe enough to suit his impressive stature. “This is absolutely unacceptable!”

“Heinous, really,” Kakashi added, hoping some positive affirmation would be just the key to getting his guest of honor to calm down. “Not that any of the representatives in presence here today are to blame for this, but when a Kage calls for an international summit over a matter as urgent as this, you don’t send in people of lesser ranking to represent you.”

He was wrong, however; as he most often was about reading people.

The Raikage stopped pacing and shot him a sharp look, but before he could say anything, Temari spoke up from the back of the room.

“Gaara sends his deepest regrets for not being able to attend. With all the rebuilding work underway, he just could not afford to leave the village at this moment.”

Kakashi did not fail to notice the slight huff of her words, surely telling of her own disapproval of the Raikage’s overreaction. He found some comfort in the fact that no one in the room, save for the Raikage himself, thought that Sasuke’s escape stood to threaten the recently restored peace across their countries.

The Raikage seemed unmoved by Temari’s apology. He did not even acknowledge it. Instead, he stepped up to the edge of his desk, slamming his hand down on the smooth mahogany top.

“Don’t think for a second that I can’t see right through your poorly disguised stunt. You let this happen. You facilitated the escape of an international criminal. Explain to me how else this could’ve happened, explain to me how Konoha could not keep a boy—a boy, not even a man—under its captivity. Are your walls really so thin that a prisoner can just crush through them and make a run for it?”

Kakashi let his gaze harden on the man in front of him. He had not navigated this situation with as much tact as he should have from the beginning. Wary of the power and clout the angry man in front of him possessed, Kakashi remained silent for a moment to consider his response.

“The boy in question here, Raikage-sama, is the last descendant of the famed Uchiha clan and the sole remaining wielder of the rinnegan, among other things,” he began, unceremoniously dropping the pretenses he’d embraced earlier. “Additionally, his accomplice, the one who broke him out—as the breakout was executed from the outside in, and not inside out, as I’ve tried articulating to you several times—was the strongest kunoichi in all of Konoha, possibly across all lands. I can assure you that the walls in this village are anything but paper-thin. I understand you are a fan of breaking down walls yourself. Perhaps, you would like to take a walk down to the site of the incident, so you may admire the handiwork of Haruno Sakura?”

Kakashi saw a vein twitch on the Raikage’s temple, like a small caterpillar might be writhing to spill out of the tan cocoon of his skin.

Had he gone too far? Possibly, but he’d been left no choice. He couldn’t keep dawdling about the issue like he did not have anything to lose. If anyone got wind of what had actually transpired, of how he had orchestrated the entire thing, Kakashi would be losing much more than just his office.

The room was taken by silence for a few moments. It was Darui who eventually broke it.

“What steps have been taken so far? How many tails have been sent out?”

“We’ve sent out the best of our hunter-nins after them. The Interrogation Division has also been gracious enough to lend some of its personnel for the mission.” And then, to add a flourish of frustration, Kakashi sighed loudly. “Believe it or not, Konoha is just as invested in bringing Sasuke back for trial as you, Raikage-sama.”

That seemed to soothe over his burn a little. The Raikage maintained his harsh frown and cold eyes, but he slowly retracted his hand and took a step back, in the manner of propping up a white flag.

“You have Kumo as your ally in this. We shall offer support in whatever measure needed to capture that nefarious child.”

Kakashi cracked a cynical smile under his mask. It was funny, he thought. Kumo was supposed to be an ally of Konoha in all things now that the illusion of peace was finally settling over their countries. But he knew better than to point out the obvious meaning behind this slip of tongue. Being the leader of a hidden village, Kakashi was quickly learning, was a great exercise in picking the right battles.

Some you instinctively bet your life on, and some you turned your one good eye away from.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can i have a fic where michael is all insecure and him and luke fall in love, it doesn't matter if they're in the band together or they randomly meet. I just want Luke helping Michael and then fallin for him n all that sappy shit. thx babe! ur writing is awesome. xoxoxo

thank you & of course!!!! This is an awesome request and I’ve been meaning to do more fic and less smut, although there’s still gonna be some smut up in this story.

This is extremely long but I really hope you like it! xo

[ADULT CONTENT]

Title: Self Esteem. 
(based on The Offspring’s song)

“The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care!!” Michael blurting the lyrics helplessly into a microphone at a bar Luke went to on an every-other-weekend basis. He had never seen Michael here before but he wished he had. The sound of his voice on stage, and the presence he brought was completely and utterly enthralling. Luke was captivated by the mystery and had to find out everything he could about this guy. Michael walks slowly over to the bar to grab a drink- the bartender pours him a shot, he tilts his head back and down goes the brown liquor, inside Michael’s throat. In that moment Luke envied the whiskey and how it took Michael’s breath away. He wanted to be that, do that for him. Luke makes his move over to where Michael is sitting at a bar stool, empty shot glass in hand as he danced the glass inside and outside of his fingers, head tilted down like he was in deep thought. The liquid that once fed his sorrows, was gone and now it seemed he felt that way too. 

“Hi.” Luke took a seat next to Michael. Michael didn’t even give him a second glance. Just mumbled and kept looking down. Luke wondered what was going on inside of that head of his. The black hair, sweaty but somehow still spiked up, some laying flat against his forehead, others laying at his neck. He scanned Michael’s appearance- dark, but fashionable. Tight black jeans and a red flannel that was halfway buttoned- with a long necklace hanging upon his chest. He wore tons of bracelets on his arms. He wondered if they were hiding something too. Then Luke realized he knew Michael- from back in the day. When Luke first had discovered his attraction to guys. MIchael was his first guy-kiss. He looks so different now, here in this atmosphere. The dimly lit pub, with the faint mask of cigarette smoke. But as soon as the light hit his face and Luke could really really see Michael, he knew. “Michael?”

Michael’s eyes darted up and he shot Luke a weird glance, one that clearly tells Luke he didn’t know who the fuck he was. Until the light came back around and shown upon Luke’s face too. Michael’s eyes became wide and he sat there in silence, trying to process the likelihood of this happening. 

“I thought you moved away!” Luke said, semi-excited, but also trying to keep a cool demeanor. He didn’t want Michael to know how badly he wanted to kiss him right now. He knew that Michael was vulnerable in this moment and that, kissing him would be wrong. Michael was too drunk, Luke could see it in his eyes. 

“Well, I’m back now.” Michael scoffed. He went back to twirling the shot glass and being entranced in deep thought. He paused for a moment and turned his chair towards look. “Hey, wasn’t I you first man kiss?” Michael laughed, “Now I know where I know you from. Luke! Sorry for being awkward for a minute man. I just thought you were trying to hit on me or something.” Luke blushed at Michael’s words, because Luke wanted to hit on him. Luke wanted to actually do more than just that but he knew he couldn’t now. His chance was slim to none. But he didn’t care. He just wanted to be in Michael’s presence, like this, for however long it takes to see him smile like that again. It was beautiful. His pointy-ish teeth and cherry red lips, he hated using the same terms like cherry-red for lips but there was really no other way to describe them. He was a work of art that Luke wanted to learn how to paint, over and over again. He felt himself admiring Michael too much and came back into conversation. 

“Yupp, that’s me.” Luke smirked. “You took my kissing virginity- so now looks like I owe you one.” He tried to play it off like he was being friendly and not flirtatious but it just came out kind of awkward and rushed. 

“Oh.” Michael glanced up at Luke and gave him a side smiled and glanced to the side and then back to Luke. “Well- uhm.” Michael began fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt, and then one of his bracelets. He started biting his lower lip and it seemed he couldn’t formulate what he wanted to say. This made Luke nervous, his hands started to sweat and he started thinking of all the things Michael could say to him, and then compared them to everything he wanted Michael to say to him. “I actually just kind of need someone to talk to.. Is that okay? If we talk? I just moved back. I- I really- uhm, don’t have anyone right now. To- ya know, talk with.” Michael took his hand to the back of his own neck and rubbed nervously.  He was looking down again, embarrassed of the question he just asked of someone who was practically a stranger now. But he needed someone, even if it was just for this one time. 

Luke and Michael’s pub drinking and then after-pub deep conversation became an every weekend affair. Eventually they got close enough to where they didn’t need the bar, or the drinks to talk. They just could. Michael was a dark and troubled soul. Always longing for that connection with another person. He explained to Luke how music was everything to him, he wanted someone to share that with. But he didn’t want just a fuck, or someone to be there at night next to him. He wanted love. Luke froze in time every single instance where Michael would express his desire for love and how his body ached for it. Luke felt helpless- helplessly in love with MIchael. He knew it from the first day he saw him singing at the bar to one of Luke’s favorite bands, The Offspring. Luke would pat Michael’s leg from time to time and hold his hand for quick moment on occasion but only for support. Each time he did, it felt an ache run through his body- a shock like no other. Michael made Luke nervous, and shy and giddy like no one else had ever made him feel before. Luke hated how much he loved Michael. Luke hated how much pain Michael was in. He would do anything to stop it. He wished he could, but he was the only person Michael had, Luke couldn’t ruin that because of his stupid, overwhelming, feelings. 

“I just feel like I’ll never really be okay.” Michael sighed and put his head on Luke’s shoulder. “There’s always my anxiety in the way of every single relationship. I always fuck it up before I can get close enough to anyone and I hate myself for it. I’m always comparing and feeling annoying and too clingy. I just wish I had someone to accept me for who I am, flaws and darkness and destruction. But I don’t want to hurt people Luke, it just happens every single time.” Michael balls his hands into fists and fights back tears. Luke embraces Michael in a warm hug and Michael cries into his shoulder. “it’s not fair.” Luke wishes he could be anything to Michael, anything more than a friend. Even if MIchael were to hurt him inside, he felt it would be worth it to just be Michael’s for only a moment. 

“It’s okay Michael, you’re an amazing person. Anyone would be lucky to be yours, you just have to wait until you find that someone.” Luke mutters, but the thought of Michael being with someone else, makes his skin crawl. The words struggle to leave his mouth and Michael notices. 

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked, curious as to what has Luke so choked up. Luke wanted to tell him right there, bare it all, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. Luke had to pick his moment- even if it was a long time from now. 

“I just don’t like seeing you like this, I just wish I could do something for you.” Luke sighs and Michael lets out a smile. 

“Being here- right now, it’s enough.” and he puts one arm around Luke and gives him a side hug and they smile at one another. Luke lives to see Michael smile, even though sometimes it breaks his heart. 

After countless weekends of long conversations and performances at the open-mics together, Luke decided to tell Michael. He couldn’t keep it in any longer. For fucks sake it was killing him inside. Every time he heard Michael cry, or every time him and Michael were out having the best time of their lives. He had always wished for more. Closer- to be more to Michael than just his best friend. He needed- something. 

Luke walked into the bar where they were meeting that night- Michael was chatting up some guy when Luke arrived. Luke’s heart dropped and it fell into the floor, Michael was giggling and smiling wide like he did with Luke. Luke was furious. He had no right to be jealous, but he was, he hated himself for it but he wanted to punch that guy’s smug face. He was built nice, tan, and had many tattoos- and a dumb blonde streak in his hair. He was hot. Fuck. Luke tried to remain calm and walked over to where Michael and the douchebag were sitting. 

“Hey, Nice to meet you! I’m Calum.” the douche stuck out his hand for Luke to take and Luke grabbed it and shook it like it was some kind of wet noodle. 

“Luke” he responded, looking to the bartender for assistance. He was going to need a drink for this. 

“Yeah, I was just telling Calum here about our band idea! Calum plays the bass. I figured all we need is a drummer and we’re good to go!” Michael beemed, he hadn’t seen him this happy about anything in a long time. It felt good, even if it was because of someone else- Michael was happy and that’s all that mattered. 

“Oh guys-” Calum said as a taller, mixed-looking girl, joins us at the bar. “This is my girlfriend, her name is Zendaya.” 

“Hey guys, nice to meet you!” she stuck out her hand and Luke and Michael both shook willingly, a smirk appeared big across Luke’s face and Michael must have noticed because he turned to Luke “What’s that big fucking grin you have on for? You have a thing for Cal’s girl?” Luke blushed and laughed awkwardly, Michael knew Luke was into dudes, didn’t he? maybe he was testing the waters. 

“Michael, you know I’m into dudes. Besides, I’m just really excited about this band thing- it could be incredible!” Luke was now excited about the idea and they talked all night. Eventually Cal and his girl left- by that time Michael and Luke were so wasted they knew neither of them could drive. They decided to take a cab back to the one’s house who was the closest. Luke’s apartment was only five minutes from the bar so they settled on going there. In the cab ride home, Luke couldn’t help but notice Michael leaning over on his shoulder and nuzzling his head into Luke’s chest for comfort. Michael seemed tired, but Luke was buzzing with energy, especially because Michael was being semi-affectionate. This is it. Luke thought to himself in a drunken haze, I need to tell him. 

They got into Luke’s apartment and both staggered into the door. They were laughing at their drunken antics and hoped they wouldn’t wake any of the neighbors. Michael was leaning on Luke for support, while Luke was trying and failing to hold him up. They fell to the ground and Luke landed on top of Michael. They were still laughing as they stared into each others eyes, for split moment Luke thought Michael had feelings too, they got quiet. Luke stopped himself befor he said something stupid, or even worse popped a boner- and he got up. 

“You clumsy fuck.” Michael scoffed at Luke and laughed, he seemed as if he was being weird. Luke wondered what that meant. He wondered if it meant that Michael picked up on the fact Luke was in love with him, but Luke knew he was reading too far into Michael’s expressions again. “Are you going to make me sleep on the couch Lukey?” Michael looked at him not pleased with the sleeping arrangement they had been accustomed too for these past weeks- shit it’s been a few months now, Luke realized. Time went so slow with Michael. 

“Well, you can always sleep in my bed- but I’ll be in there too. You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.” Luke laughed nervously at the idea he brought up to Michael, but what other place would Michael be insinuating to sleep? Luke’s head started racing and the alcohol clouded mind was started to impair his actions and he walked over to Michael and took his hand. Luke didn’t know what the fuck he was doing but the alcohol was now in control and there was nothing Luke could do about it, even though he didn’t want to do anything about it. Luke liked this side of himself- he was finally taking control.

Michael followed him nonchalant. The feeling of Michael’s fingers intertwined with Luke’s was more than Luke could ever wish for. He felt such a spark whenever they touched and he had wondered if Michael had felt it too. He guided Michael into the bedroom and kind of urged him onto the bed. Michael sat and looked up at Luke with the twinkle in his eye he always gets when he’s drunk. God, he looked so fucking beautiful. Luke wished he could keep this moment forever. The way his bright red lips were begging for Luke’s mouth, it was too much for Luke to resist now. The drunken antics kept pushing Luke through his doubts. Luke didn’t care anymore- he needed Michael. 

Luke sat next to Michael on the bed and put his hand on Michael’s thigh, drifting up and down it as if he was just comforting him. He looked up at Michael and stared at his lips, and then his eyes and then down to his body. Michael was silent and breathing heavy now, he started scanning Luke as well. 

“Luke, I-” Michael started and Luke stopped and looked up and Michael right away. 

“What?” Luke questioned wondering what was going to roll off of Michael’s tongue, anything, it could be anything, Luke just needed to know. 

“Nevermind.” Michael sighed and walked over the right side of the bed, removing his shirt and pants and getting ready for bed. Luke sighed, feeling as if he had lost his chance. But it was now or never, Luke wasn’t going to lose this moment. He needed Michael. 

“Michael.” Luke crawled over to sit next to where Michael was. Michael looked up at him, you could see water forming inside of MIchael’s eyes. “Woah, what’s wrong?” Any thought of coming clean to Michael was wiped away at the sight of his almost tears. He wanted Michael to feel okay, so he decided to leave his confession for another day. 

Michael put his hand on the back of Luke’s neck and pulled him close. Their faces were almost touching now, a slight lean forward and they would be kissing. Luke could feel his heart beating- then almost stopping and beating again. Fuck, Luke wished this moment would pause- he had no idea what would come next. 

“I wish someone would love me Luke.” Michael sighed. “I wish I wasn’t so fucking torn and insecure.” He pushed away from Luke and stared at the ground. Luke’s heart dropped, he wanted that moment back. 

“Michael.” he grabbed Michael’s shoulder to make sure he was facing him. “Look at me.” MIchael looked into Luke’s eyes and he could see the gleam of light and hope he always sees in Michael. Luke smiles. Grabs the back of Michael’s neck and leans in and plants his lips upon Michaels. Michael jerks away. 

“Wh- Luke, what was that?” Michael was flustered, but he didn’t seem not into it- just kind of scared. Luke suddenly felt discouraged and stupid and weak. He knew he shouldn’t have told Michael, he should’ve known Michael wouldn’t feel the same way. Fuck he was so stupid. 

“I kissed you.” Luke blurted out before he had time to think, he was honestly tired of thinking now- tired of hiding how he felt. He decided to tell Michael everything. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you again Michael, fuck. I’m in love with you okay. You were my first kiss and that may not matter now, or whatever, but I want to keep kissing you. I don’t want you feeling like this is out of pity or whatever because it’s not Michael. I love you- I just fucking do okay? I’m tired of keeping it inside and pretending I don’t.” Luke was rambling and had to stop himself, he was so fed up with the white lies and the games he played for such a long time. He wanted Michael, he didn’t care if he knew anymore, Michael deserved to know someone truly loved him.

“I don’t know what to say Luke.” Michael looked down at his hand for a long time and the silence consumed them. He looked up at Luke and Luke was too busy looking down, seemingly still frustrated at the situation. “I guess I’ll just show you then.” Michael gripped his hands on either side of Luke’s face and started kissing him- like fire. Like nothing else mattered, like it was only Luke and Michael. Their tongues started dancing in and out of each other’s mouths and it was like nothing Luke had ever felt. No one had made Luke feel the way Michael did. Everything in that moment was electric. 

Their drunken hands moved over each other’s body and they undressed one another. Kissing the nape of Luke’s neck Michael moved his lips all over his body and Luke was loving every second of Michael’s big warm mouth. They had started moving together like they belonged to one another for more than just this night. Luke moaned as Michael was moving his way downward, toward the head. Michael let his tongue caress the tip of Luke’s head and started moving up and down the shaft slowly. He used his hands to pump a few times and then placed his mouth fully over Luke’s throbbing boner. Luke groaned into the air as his hands moved through Michael’s hair and his hips buckled forward urging Michael’s mouth to cover more of him. Michael’s tongue worked more of it’s magic and he began to suck and move up and down in a more fluid motion, there was such a rhythm to his movements, like music was apart of Michael in every single way. 

“Fuck- I’m close Michael, I’m-” Luke almost sang out for Michael to hear, and he looked up and Luke and smirked and picked up the pace. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” 

Luke’s liquid filled Michael’s mouth and he swallowed gratefully. Luke melted onto the bed and started grinning. He never felt bliss like this, not until Michael. 

“You know-” Luke started “I’m going to be in debt soon.” Michael looked at him with confusion. “That was my first blowjob- I guess I owe you big time now.”

Michael laughed and started to ease, he laid down next to Luke and kissed his shoulder and then his neck and finally onto his lips again. “I love you Luke. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I never knew you felt the same way. Every talk, every time I opened up to you- I was hoping to tell you then, but- I couldn’t risk losing you.” Michael sighed and looked down, like he always does and then smiled to himself. 

“But you didn’t lose me Michael.” Luke lifted Michael’s head to face his. “I’m right here, I’ll always be right here. I love you too.”

“You do owe me though” Michael blurted out, and started giggling. “Big time.”

Severus had gone out to the darkly lit pub, he sat in the shadows and didn’t actively draw attention to himself as he looked about the room, watching those around him with very little interest. His glass of wine sat in front of him, the nearby fire shining lightly upon his face. His appearance more disheveled than usual.

Dance with Me (CS modern AU one-shot)


AN: This is what happens, when I’m listening to music, while cleaning. A silly short inspired by Shut up and Dance with Me by Walk The Moon. I advise to listen to this song while reading.  Enjoy. A big thank you to my betas: captain-k-jones, zengoalie and o-u-a-timer. I would be nothing without you.

Read at: FF.net, AO3

Killian Jones walked into the dark pub and headed straight to the bar. Rum was the only thing he needed tonight to put his crappy week behind him. The bartender nodded at him, as he enter. The guy knew him well enough to have his drink ready before he even got a chance to ask. Killian planned to get wasted tonight. Drinking would distract him from his non-existent love life, especially when his best mate was proposing to his long time girlfriend. Glass in hand, he turned to watch the dance floor. Tonight was the night when a DJ graced this lousy establishment with his presence.

Then, he spotted her. A swirl of golden locks, flying around creamy shoulders to the rhythm of  music. Carefree smile graced her face, impossibly long dark lashes kissed her flushed cheeks. She wore a sinfully short black leather dress that left her back exposed to his gaze. Her legs, bloody hell, her legs. He got a good glimpse of them as she bent down, twisting her waist in a serpentine movement and rocking her body straight up again. He could have sworn those legs reached heaven from her short high heeled black boots to the mid hip hem of her dress.

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