lit pub

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.”

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.

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.”

People want to see the spectacular, the loud and the shocking. They don’t care about the boring. I want the violent the blood and the music banging so loud in my ears it melts my brain. I want brain damage.
They’re all fucking cunts eh? You look at them and don’t see yourself. None of it. Then you put on your boots run a mile and scream at the top of your lungs breaking everything. Lampposts, phone boxes, swearing about the fire in your body. You look around and you see the pub lit up and full of people. Full of shit? Then you get smacked in the face by one of your mates and that’s when you wake up in your bed in a cold room and dammit, you miss London again.

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


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:, 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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