needs to straighten this

6

Louis screaming “what the hell is going on here?” was absolutely heartbreaking. You could hear how scared and shocked he was in his voice.

Eleanor getting attacked by a “fan” for no reason other than rekindling with Louis was absolutely heartbreaking. No matter what you believe or ship, no woman deserves to be attacked like that, especially by someone who calls themselves a fan of Louis. Eleanor is obviously someone that Louis holds very dear to his heart, whether as a friend or a girlfriend, and honestly? It’s nobody’s god damn business what she is to him. To attack her right in front of him, to stress him out and do all of this to him after knowing what he’s been through lately? There’s nothing lower than that. Have some decency and respect. People need to get their priorities straightened out and learn how to separate reality from fantasy.

2 | Jealous

A NIGHT AT HOME | JUNGKOOK VERSION 

WORD COUNT: 5,378

warnings: graphic smut, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex, fingering, rough sex, asphyxiation (choking), ass play, degrading names, dom!jungkook + sub!reader

Originally posted by junghope

masterlist | ask | song | prev

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southern hospitality

bitty has outgrown this place, and the people in it.

tw: homophobic language/slurs

word count: 1800

for @stitchedopen, 3rd place winner in my fic giveaway! i hope you like it!


The clinking of Jack’s fork against his plate as he sets it down is very unnerving. It’s not the only sound in the room but it’s by far the loudest, to him at least. Even louder than Suzanne’s pleasant babbling (no wonder where Bitty gets it from) and the gentle lull of music being played on a radio somewhere in another room. Probably the kitchen, where Bitty’s finishing up supper.

There’s a shuffling around the corner and Coach becomes visible as he nears the bottom of the staircase. “Jack,” he mumbles gruffly in greeting, giving him a nod and sitting at the head of the table.

“Hello, Mr. Bittle,” Jack replies, smiling a little. “How’s the season going? Still the reigning champs of Morgan County?” If there’s one thing Jack knows he can get Coach to talk about, it’s football. It might be a much different sport than hockey, Jack surmises, but the passion they share for their sports is more than enough for them to hold a conversation.

“Oh, they lost their first game of the season last week. Nevin’s got an injury and we had to switch around the lineups– you remember, Nevin, receiver, curly hair, he’s in the team picture in the living room– anyway, I’m sure it hurt their chemistry.” Coach would talk strategy with Jack for hours, if it was up to him, but Eric is coming into the dining room now. He’s got on yellow oven mitts with tiny white flowers, and he’s holding a tray with a roast and some vegetables.

“The meat’s a little dry, Lord help me, I should stick to baking,” Eric laughs, setting the tray down on the table. “But all the vegetables should be good and I’ve got some pumpkin muffins with a fantastic cream cheese frosting waiting for us in the kitchen.” Everyone starts to serve themselves. The meat’s not dry at all, but Jack keeps that to himself. Sometimes Bitty needs little things to dwell on, to keep himself busy so he’s not worrying so much about the big stuff. Jack knows that.

“So,” Suzanne starts after a minute, and Jack can tell that this is going to be a long one. He glances up at her, a signal that he’s listening. “The Gardeners are having a potluck this Friday, and they sent us an invitation.”

Bitty nearly drops his fork. “The Gardeners?” he hisses. “As in, Melissa and Kyle?”

“Those Gardeners,” Suzanne replies smugly. Jack and Coach exchange a look, humor gleaming in both of their eyes. The drama is about to unfold, they can tell. “What right do they think they’ve got, inviting us to their potluck after what happened at ours?”

Bitty turns to Jack, waving his hands as he speaks. “Two summers ago, we held a potluck here for the neighborhood, and when the Gardeners showed up, Kyle was drunk as a skunk and knocked over our entire dessert table. The whole thing! It was all ruined! And it would have been okay, but they didn’t even bring anything to the potluck in the first place, and they never apologized, and oh, it was such a mess, everyone tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal but darlin’ you should’ve seen the look on Moomaw’s face, I swear she was on the verge of a heart attack.” He shifts abruptly back toward Suzanne. “Mama, we’ve got to go.”

“Oh, I know that, of course we do. Dicky, what you’ve gotta do is bake the best pie those folks have ever tasted, let them know exactly what they were destroying when they had the nerve-”

Jack hums quietly, making a mental note. Potluck on Friday. Prepare for a spectacle.

-

Bitty’s fingers press against Jack’s neck as he helps him straighten his collar. Jack doesn’t really need the help, he supposes, but the contact is welcome, brief but full of warmth, not the kind of affection Jack usually gets when they’re with Bitty’s parents. They’ve been trying really hard, Jack can tell, and Bitty has too. But he understands why Eric sometimes has trouble being soft with Jack around Suzanne and Coach.

“Don’t you just look dashing,” Bitty says with a smile, placing his hand flat on Jack’s chest.

“Only because you picked my outfit,” Jack laughs. Bitty laughs with him, nodding in agreement. He’s got little crinkles at the edges of his eyes when he laughs, and Jack rubs his thumb over them, absent minded.

“You ready, Dicky?” Suzanne calls from the kitchen. The noises of the coffee pot stop and Jack can hear her pouring herself a cup.

“All ready!” Bits yells back. He reaches up his hand and squeezes Jack’s wrist before whirling around into the kitchen. Jack watches Bitty’s hips swing as he leaves, his jeans a little tighter than usual since he’s outgrown some of the clothes that he left here during the school year, and wonders if wore them on purpose.

-

The potluck is bustling. There are people of all ages, from the tiny toddlers playing in the Slip ‘N Slide far left in the back yard to the old ladies knitting underneath the sugar maple next to the house in a comically stereotypical manner. Jack opens Eric’s door for him not out of chivalry but out of necessity– when he emerges from the car, his arms are full of tupperware containers.

“Let me take some, bud” Jack offers, but Bitty shakes his head.

“I’ve got to bring them over myself.”

-

“This one’s cherry with a lattice crust,” Eric is explaining as he removes the lid from the nearest tupperware container. The egregious Melissa Gardener turns out to be a petite brunette with a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose. “And this one’s pumpkin, I know it’s not really the season but I had some materials left over from the muffins I made the other night and I’m sure it’ll be just delightful, I made the whipped cream myself– now, they’re all desserts. I was sure you’d need some.”

Jack stifles a laugh. The bite in Bitty’s voice is unmistakable. “Where should I set them?” Eric asks, still sweet as sugar but with a lilt that suggests this isn’t an innocent question. “This table seems a little… unsteady. I wouldn’t want them to fall, heaven forbid.”

“This table’s fine,” Melissa ensures him, smiling. “Thank you so much for the contributions.”

“It’s nothing at all.”

They burst out laughing as soon as she leaves, Bitty collapsing into Jack’s chest. Jack’s arms come around him automatically and squeeze. “Bits, that was cold.”

“Really? Here I was, thinking I was being so courteous.”

They stay in the embrace for a few more seconds before Bitty shifts away from Jack. It’s subtle, but Jack understands. He squeezes Bitty’s shoulder and then takes a step away. Bitty’s out to everyone who matters, but some people don’t know. And some still have their prejudices.

“Bits, where’s the bathroom?” Jack asks. The noise is already getting to him. He knows he’s got a while of this to go, and he’s sure he’ll be fine, but he just needs a minute to adjust. Eric points him in the right direction, then goes back to arranging the pies on the table.

“Eric!” Bitty whips around. It’s a tall guy with acne scars in a red polo shirt. Bitty looks up, his face ghostly stricken for a second, then paints a big smile on.

“Hey, Todd,” he replies as the guy moves closer. “How have you been.”

“I’ve been fine, thanks,” Todd says. Eric tugs on the bottom of his shirt and glances over at Jack, entering the house. “Who’s the guy?” Todd asks, nodding toward him.

“Jack,” Eric says. “My… my boyfriend.”

Todd smiles. He turns his gaze to Bitty. “I’ve gotta say, Eric, I’m impressed! I expected you to come home with some twinky faggot in a pink H&M scarf.”

Eric inhales sharply. “Go away,” he says quietly, looking at his shoes. “My love life is none of your business.”

“We all knew you were a homo, Bittle, I guess it’s just a little surprising that you’re still showing your face around here. Are you queers ever gonna stop shoving your agenda in our faces? Huh? Go back to Samwell, eh?” He’s inching closer now, and Eric’s cheeks are flaming red.

“Go fuck yourself,” Eric mutters, turning his back. He unstacks a tin of macadamia nut cookies from his lemon meringue, and opens it. His hands are shaking as he spreads them out artfully.

Todd ignores his response, instead reaching over Bitty and sweeping up several cookies. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says as he stuffs one in his mouth. “Mmm,” he replies, smirking. “They’re a little bit… fruity, don’t you think?”

“That’s not even funny,” Eric rolls his eyes. “Get the hell away from me.”

“And if I don’t?”

There’s a hand on the back of Bitty’s neck and he’s flinching, he’s freezing, he can’t move he can’t breathe–

“If you don’t,” Jack whispers, his voice robotic and cold. “I’ll beat the shit out of you, and you can crawl home to your mother and tell her you got your ass handed to you by a faggot. Does that sound like a good enough reason to stop?”

Todd takes a step back. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he hisses at Jack. “You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t know who my dad is, do you?”

“Let me guess. Mayor of some town I’ve never heard of? Principal of the local high school? Do you know who my father is, noune?” Jack puffs up his shoulders. “Because I can guaran-fucking-tee that my dad is a hell of a lot worse to mess with than yours. So you might just wanna step off.”

“Whatever. I shouldn’t be talking to y’all anyway. Just in case it’s contagious, you know?” Todd smirks.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jack says, still matter of fact, balling his fists and lunging toward Todd. Todd flinches, but the blow doesn’t come. Bitty’s caught the back of Jack’s t-shirt in his hand.

“Jack, honey, it’s okay. I can handle it.”

Todd laughs.

“But this– this asshole–”

“Trust me, sweetpea, I’ve got this.” Eric smiles.

“Yeah, you’re sure gonna take care of me, Bittle, what can you weigh, a hundred and ten? I bet you couldn’t even–”

Splat.

“Pity,” Eric says sweetly as the pie tin slides down Todd’s face, then down his shirt, coating him in cherry filling. “That lattice crust was gorgeous.”

“You– you–” Todd splutters, wiping cherry crud out of his eyes, but Bitty and Jack are already walking away.

“Enjoy the snacks, Melissa,” Eric calls over his shoulder as they make their way to the car. “We’re gonna head out.”

Catching the Bat’s heart - Bruce Wayne x reader

I’m hopeless, I have too much love for Bruce…So I’m writing yet another thing with him. Don’t hate me. Worst, this is kinda long. Besides, sorry for any grammar mistakes, I’m French and have a bad tendency to never proof read anything…

Summary : The reader is quite a bit younger than Bruce, and thinks she’s just yet another one night stand…She’s completely wrong.

Warnings : mentions of sex…slightly NSFW. Langage. Age gap,  I guess ?

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

______________________________________________________________________

If a few months ago, someone would have told you you were going to be invited by Bruce Wayne to a charity ball, you probably would have laughed in their face and told them they should check themselves in Arkham Asylum. And yet, here you were, on your fifth dates with the famous womanizer. You always had a thing for older men. Always. And against your better judgement, even knowing his reputation, you let Bruce Wayne come into your life. Worst, you let him shamelessly flirt with you. And you flirted back…In your head, every warning sign was flashing bright red, telling you you were going to get hurt. But you couldn’t help it. The man was smart, funny, handsome, and you were sure there was more to him than the public playboy figure he showed…

In fact, you KNEW there was more to him. Even though you had big confidence issues, you knew you were somewhat intelligent, and you always picked up on small details. You had absolutely no doubt that billionaire Bruce Wayne…Was the Batman. It just all made sense. He had the motive, the money, the physique, He often disappeared and re-appeared out of nowhere…You just knew it was him. That’s actually what convinced you to let him come that close to you. You knew he often had one night stands with models, or any good looking girl really. You knew he clearly didn’t want to get attached at all. But you also knew that behind all of this facade, there was a guy so broken by his parents’ death he decided to dress as a bat at night to fight crime. Like, come on, that alone made you very curious. And, since he kept coming to you, kept inviting you out…Your hopes started to get up, and you scolded yourself for it…But you couldn’t fucking help it.

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So guys... U know back in QOTD when Daniel said Armand would cut his hair in a lot of different styles?

Here’s the thing.

Armand dying his hair.

Please discuss, I need this.

Reasons

I saw this post on twitter and had to write something. I’m so proud of my archer man. 

You got this.


“Hanzo, you should consider joining us, I think we would see eye to eye.”

The words are light, easy from Ogundimu ‘s mouth. He stands before Hanzo now, where he’s positioned on the roof on his latest assignment. The man is bigger than Hanzo remembers from the pictures of his capture. 

He regards the man with a dismissive air, eyes raking from the Talon leaders feet to the top of his head.  

He does not know where the Shimada loyalty lies. He has been in prison too long. 

Hanzo thinks of his brother and the footage Winston made them watch upon finding out of Doomfist’s escape. While he has no right to be defensive about a man who is fully capable of taking care of himself and whom Hanzo nearly killed, he feels his hackles rise despite it. 

“I would have little to gain from such an arrangement. No, I will find my own path.” He chooses his words carefully and with a slow precision, so that Ogundimu may not suspect a thing. 

“You are wasted as a man on the run.” Ogundimu’s snorts derisively, shakes his head, “Surely you could use better resources? A chance for protection from your clan?”

Hanzo straightens, knocks an arrow, “I do not need protection.” 

Ogundim’s face twists, “Talon would do you good.”

Hanzo is done with crime. He is done with following orders

“No.” He repeats, crisp and clear.

Ogundimu paces before him, eyes narrowed, watching Hanzo like a hawk. Hanzo is no stranger to his skills. Akande Ogundimu was legendary in combat, in figuring an enemy out with only a few looks.

“What reason could possibly tempt you away from total power?”

Hanzo does not reply again. He pulls his bow back and Doomfist falls into his own battle stance. He lets loose a scatter arrow and watches as Ogundimu lifts the gauntlet to protect his face. 

Hanzo uses that to slip down the roof, out of sight in seconds and ready to rendezvous with the rest of his team. 

Tracer is lounging against the wall next to Symmetra’s teleport when he arrives. 

“There you are!” She flits forward, “We’re waiting on you.”

“Apologies.” Hanzo bows his head, ducks through the teleport and into the transportation to take them home. 

“Howdy darlin’, how’d your part of the mission go?” Jesse greets him with an arm slung around his shoulder. He reeks of cigar smoke and sweat, but it is a welcome smell.

Genji is seated at the table, arms crossed over the bright green of his armor and chatting with Angela, who is sighing over 76′s hunched form. There’s a gash on his shoulder and a bright red mark on his side. 

“It went well.” Hanzo mutters, “Is this all of us then?” He looks around, watches Tracer zip through the blue halo and it disappears behind her.

Hanzo stares at the empty spot for a second more, considers Doomfist’s words. Jesse’s arm tightens around his neck.

“You good, sugar?”

Hanzo nods, “Merely thinking.”

“Of?” They drop down onto one of the couches together and Hanzo feels the vibration around them as the engines roar to life.

He hums, tips his head back to rest on the strong arm behind him, “Reasons why I am here.”

Jesse makes a considering sound, “That’s all you. Your choice after all.”

Hanzo closes his eyes. Yes. 

His choice. His path. His reason.

anonymous asked:

Scenario where all the guys are arguing over being in love with the reader? (i want to see how they would handle that.)

I kind of made this an ailment thing anon, cause I just couldn’t see the bros arguing like that T-T I hope this is okay! 

While fighting a group of killer wasps, the boys are doused in an unrecognisable gas. It affects them in a most unusual way…

Fem!Reader x …all of the bros I guess!
SFW
WC: 4564 (another longer one, sorry!)

-

The sound of clanging metal was strong in your ears. You and the boys had unfortunately run into some killer wasps on your journey, and they were posing quite an annoying challenge. The three huge insects were rearing up again, and you knew that at any moment, they were going to release those horrible status ailment gases. Nimbly you dodged out of range.

“Guys! Look out!” But your warning call was too late as thick blue jets of gas expelled from the three wasps, clouding around the boys still in close range.

“Ugh, does it have to smell so bad?” cried Prompto, swishing his arms around desperately in a futile attempt to waft the gas away. You knew that it wasn’t going to stop the gas from working into their bodies though, once it hits you it’s like it clings to you.

“What even is this one?” Noctis yelled, warp striking to one of the wasps trying to fly higher out of reach. He plunged his engine blade into the wasp, bringing it back down to the ground where Ignis impaled it with his spear. One down.

“I must say I am rather confused myself. I’ve never seen that colour before.”

“Yeah well, I say we destroy them before it has a chance to work.” Gladio charged at the second wasp, knocking it to the floor with a heavy swing of his great sword. You agreed with Gladio, the sooner you got out of there the sooner you could see what kind of ailment they had and treat it accordingly.

“Just be careful you guys, don’t let them have a chance to do it again!” You told them, and Prompto swivelled around to face you, shooting you a beaming smile.

“It’s sweet that you’re so worried about us! Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

As the blonde was speaking the third wasp loomed over him, stinger posed ready to strike, but he hadn’t noticed.

Damn it Prom!

Swiftly you brought up your pistol, borrow from Prompto’s own collection, and fired straight at its body. Prompto turned to see the insect fly backward from the impact of the shot, and turned to you once more.

“Um, thanks!” He grinned sheepishly, resolving to get his head back in the game.

“No problem, let’s get the last one.”

All five of you turned to the last one, hovering above you. Prompto stepped forward this time, raising his gun square at its head. And with one shot, he sent the insect crashing down to the ground, where Gladio hit it with his sword to make sure that it was truly dead.

You relaxed.

“Ahh, thank the gods that’s over.”  You stretched, pocketing your pistol once more.

“Yeah, and you’re getting better with your aim too.” Gladio nodded at you, and you smiled at his praise. You’d only been practicing for a few weeks, and this was really the first fight where you helped in the attack.

“Soon you might be even be as good as me.” Noctis smirked, never passing on the chance to boast. Gladio biffed him on the back of his head, causing you to laugh. Never a dull moment with your boys, that was for sure!

“You alright Iggy?” You turned to look at the tawny haired man who hadn’t yet spoke, his hand cupping his chin in thought.

“Yes, thank you. I’m just wondering… I really haven’t seen that colour of gas before from killer wasps.” He adjusted his glasses, coming to stand beside you as all five of you set off back to camp.

“Yeah, blue is a weird colour for gas!” Prompto agreed from your other side.

“Indeed… and there’s something else rather peculiar.”

“What’s that Ignis?”

“Why has it not affected us yet?”

That stumped everyone. Ignis was right, going by the rest of the gases that the wasps sprayed, the ailment should have been almost instant. It definitely would have been showing itself right about now at the very least, yet none of the boys looked worse for wear.

“Uh… immunity?” Prompto offered hopefully.

“I doubt it. When have we ever been fully immune to status attacks while not wearing protective accessories?”

“Good point specs, but are you saying that there’s something wrong with us here…?” Noctis asked the question that was on all your minds. They hadn’t shown any symptoms yet… but was that really a good thing?

“To give you an honest answer, I don’t know. But I feel we should err on the side of caution.”

And with that thought, the five of you trudged back to camp feeling more than a little weary.

-

Your stomach was full, you were warm sat beside the fire, and you were very comfortably stretched out on the floor, leaning on one elbow.

That’s the life!

By the time that Ignis had cooked his meal and everyone had consumed their share, the atmosphere had lifted somewhat. There had been no symptoms from any of the boys, and a good couple of hours had passed at least. In fact, the only one still worrying about it was of course, Ignis.

“We’re fine specs. If something were to happen, surely it would’ve happened by now?” Noctis nudged the man in question from his chair, opposite you. Ignis shook his head in reply.

“We don’t know that. Perhaps because it’s a new form of gas, it is a weaker solution than the others? Therefore, it wouldn’t act as fast. Or perhaps it just needs time to slowly work around our bodies?” He mumbled again, staring off into the distance. He really was absorbed in his thought process.

“Eh don’t sweat it. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it.” Gladio gave him a swift slap on the back, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Yes well, I sure hope so.” He answered quietly, re-adjusting his askew glasses.

“Hey [Name]! Do you want to go practice your shooting some more? You’re getting really good!” Prompto bounded over to you and tapped you on your back. He had been giving you shooting lessons for a while now, encouraging you to do your best so you could finally join in the fights properly. Today had been a big step for that, and you didn’t want to back down now.

“Heck yes!” You agreed, standing up instantly and scouring the area looking for the best place for shooting practice. Your eyes landed on a spot not far away from camp, in a clearing from the trees. The other boy should also be able to watch you and offer advice from where they were too.

“How about there?”

“Prefect!” And with that you followed Prompto down the hill, readying your pistol to practice. Prompto stood at the side of you, his own pistol aimed and at the ready.

“Right, so you wanna stand with your legs slightly apart to get the best balance, plant your feet firmly on the ground… well, when you can, I mean that may not be possible when you’re being attacked by killer wasps-”

“Get on with it!” Gladio called from the top of the hill, causing Prompto to flush in response. He loved this teacher roll; it felt great to be able to help someone like he was doing, to be needed by someone. So he felt anxious to not get it wrong.

“A-ah, you’re right! Okay so just copy my stance.”

You watched Prompto stand the way he just explained to you, his gun ready in an outstretched hand, and you did your best to mimic him.

“Like this?”

“Y-yeah you got it!”

That had sounded odd… Quickly you threw Prompto a glance. Was his speech getting slurred…?

“Okay, now raise your gun… aim for the branch of that tree there.”

Ignoring the slight slur and putting it down to exhaustion, you did as he asked and aimed for the tree in the distance.

“Now… shoot.”

The sound of the bullet echoed in the wide clearing, but the sound of the bullet lodging in the offending wood sounded even better to your ears.

“Yes!” You cried, hearing clapping from the top of the hill. The three boys were smiling at you, pleased you were getting better. It warmed your heart. Their support meant everything to you, and once again you were pleased that they had decided to let you join in their journey.

Gladio began chatting to Ignis, and you felt like having another go now two less people were watching. It would be less pressure for you. Cheeks flushed with excitement, you turned back to Prompto.

“Can I have another go?”

He chuckled at your eager expression, his big blue eyes sparkling.

“Of course! This time, try and show me the stance on your own.”

Nodding, you got to work.

Now what was it he said…? Stand with your legs apart for balance… feet on firmly planted… raise your arm…

“Is that it?” You asked, trying to look at the blonde over your shoulder.

“Nearly. You just need to move your leg an inch… no kind of like… hang on a second, I’ll show you.”

And in a completely unexpected move, Prompto came to stand very close behind you, his arms resting on your hips. It was like his proximity was suddenly all you could focus on, the almost feel of his chest against your back, the light drift of his breathing as his chin rested on your shoulder ever so lightly. The very real feeling of his fingers steadying your hips.

“Prompto?”

“Here, this arm needs to straighten out a little.” He uttered, his lips right at the shell of your ear, his voice taking on an unusually deep tone. His hands ran up from your hips, up along your waist and over your sides until he came to your arms. His fingers overlapped your elbows, gently coaxing them straight.

“Much better, though, your stance is still a little off…”

“Wha-?”

Suddenly you felt the pressure of Prompto’s leg sliding in between yours, tapping your feet slightly until you nudged them further apart. He kept his foot firmly planted between yours, his leg ever so slightly brushing against yours, sending chills up your body from the contact.

Well, this is certainly intimate.

“Prom, what are you doing?” You whispered, trying to turn your head to face him.

“Correcting your stance.” Was his simple answer, and suddenly you felt silly for asking. Of course that’s what he was doing. Perhaps a little unusual for Prompto who seemed to be a spluttering mess when he touched a girl, but maybe that’s just how bad your stance was.

Damn, I’ve really got to try harder.

So you left it at that, trying to ignore the slight buzz you were getting from his contact, choosing instead to focus on your aim.

Unbeknownst to you however, another set of piercing blue eyes were watching your every move.

What the hell is he doing?

Noctis had his head resting on a tightly closed fist, knowing that he probably looked as grumpy as he felt. But he just couldn’t help it. Prompto was over there just… just straight up fondling her in front of him. Under the guise of practice shooting, no less.

How dare he?

Shooting a quick look over at Ignis and Gladio, he realised they hadn’t noticed what was happening at the foot of that hill.

How could they not realise what he has done to get his grubby little hands on her?

Looking back down at the pair, his eyes zeroed in on Prompto’s fingers drifting over her body, his leg between hers, his arms pretty much wrapped around her…

He’s just imposing his presence on her like that!

He forcefully blew his fringe out of his face in annoyance, feeling his anger at the situation rise. And yet he just could not tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him.

“Noct, are you alright?” Ignis interjected his thoughts, draw by the annoyed huff.

“Just peachy.”

Ignis looked over to Gladio in confusion, who just shrugged in reply. Ignis knew at once what the big guy was thinking – bratty prince having another sulk, leave him to it. And so he did, continuing his earlier conversation.

Noctis meanwhile, was becoming increasingly frustrated. He felt his face becoming flusher by the second, his fists tightening as his blood boiled. His wide, piercing blue eyes alight with anger.

“You’re so good at this Prompto!” Came the sweet sound of her melodic voice, and he could stand it no longer. Forcefully, Noctis stood up from his chair and strolled down the hill, meeting the two at the bottom.

You noticed the raven haired boy’s presence before Prompto, and you turned around to face him, wiggling out of Prompto’s grasp. You smiled at him welcomingly, not registering the straight up scowl etched on his features as he continued walking, ignoring you completely. No, it seemed he had focused all his attention on the blonde stood next to you… Confused, you tried to talk to him.

“Hey, Noctis! Have you come to join in the- what the fuck?” You cried as Noctis had just continued on in strong strides, straight up to Prompto. Before you even had a chance to register what was happening, the prince had thrown back his fist and swung it straight into Prompto’s chest, causing him to stumble. It would have been his face had Prompto not moved at the last second, dodging to the side instead.

“Noctis – the hell are you doing?” You cried, dashing over to where Prompto had stumbled over with the intention of checking over the no doubt distraught boy. But as you reached him… you realised he had sat up himself, wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

Uh… that’s not the reaction I expected. You backed away slightly as Prompto rose to his feet, thoroughly confused at the scene unfolding in front of you. The air almost crackled with the tension in it, Noctis and Prompto pretty much squaring up to each other. The former was gritting his teeth in major annoyance, shaking his hand to ease off the sting. The latter was dusting himself off, that smirk never once slipping.

What… what has gotten into these guys?

“Did ya see that, your highness?” Prompto almost spat the title, something which you’d never heard him call Noctis even in a respectful manner. His tone had become incredibly cocky, it was completely jarring against his usual boyish voice.

Noctis didn’t answer, only glared back with shinning eyes.

“She came over to me. How do you like that? Mr I receive everything on a silver platter. This is one thing you can’t get – her!”

Hang on a second… what now? Since you were the only female around, they had to be talking about you. But you’d never disclosed your romantic feelings to anyone, it just wasn’t something you spoke about with the boys. Where on earth had this all come from?

“And it’s the one thing I won’t give up on.” Noctis answered angrily, balling his hands into fists once more. Prompto seemed to find this highly amusing, his smirk widening.

“Cute.”

“Um, what the hell is going on here?” You cried, frustrated. This had to be some kind of wind up didn’t it? Quickly you flitted your gaze over to the two remaining boys atop the hill to see they were out of their chairs and watching the scene unfold with the same confusion in their eyes.

“Everything alright down there?” Came Ignis’ cautious voice. Even he felt unsure at what was happening, and also what to do.

Before you could answer, Prompto waved so casually to the tawny haired man, as if he was greeting an acquaintance.

“Superb, specs!” He called back cheerily, before his eyes rested on Noctis once more. His smile grew more pronounced, sending shivers up your spine. This… this wasn’t like your Prompto at all.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Pathetic.”

Noctis shook his head angrily, his frown deepening.

“Isn’t it enough that you have Lunafreya too? You always get everything Noctis.”

“Shut up.”

“And yet you still want more.”

“I said shut up!”

So ungrateful.”

And with that Noctis seemed to snap. With a strangled cry he charged forward once more, fists at the ready but this time Prompto knew what was happening. He swung back himself and soon the two boys were a flurry of fists, dull thwacks and crunches could be heard as the swings connected.

What…what in the…

“Noctis, stop! Prompto – ugh, help!” You turned pleadingly to Gladio and Ignis, seeing that they were already running down the hill to help break up the fight.

“[Name] get back!” Gladio cried, rushing forward to lock his arms around Noctis’ waist. Ignis ran behind Prompto to do the same, and eventually the two boys were pulled apart, breathing heavily. Prompto’s cheek seemed badly bruised, and Noctis has a shallow gash across his forehead.

“What in the name of the gods do you think you are doing?” Gladio admonished them both, the annoyance evident in his tone.

“Someone had to stop him from creeping on her.” Noctis kicked his legs out and struggled to get out of Gladio’s grip, meanwhile Prompto was stood calmly, not resisting Ignis’ hold.

“What are you talking about?” You’d just about had enough of this, whatever it was. You just wanted your old Prompto and Noctis back.

“He’s referring to his crippling jealousy, that’s what he’s talking about.” Prompto answered you, his tone still so sure and full of himself, rubbing a hand across his bruised cheek.

“Speak for yourself, you think you’re so slick? Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you always put your sleeping bag next to hers first in the tent. Desperate is what I’d call it.”

And for the first time since the whole thing had started, Prompto’s confident façade slipped at Noctis’ words and his features contorted in anger.

“How dare you?”

“How dare I what? Tell the truth?”

“Stop it! You sound like children!” You yelled at them both, finally causing them to stop squabbling for just a second. Were they actually both arguing about… about having feelings for you?

“Yes, I agree. You are both rather behaving like babies.” Ignis finally piped up, letting go of Prompto to straighten his glasses out. When he looked up, his eyes were shining. You sighed in relief, at least someone was talking sense.

“[Name] is rather befitting a man, wouldn’t you say?”

Maybe not.

His words took you by surprise, and even Gladio looked put out.

“Iggy…?”

“What would you want these children for? I could really look after you.”

A slow smile spread across his face, one that didn’t sit too well with you. A sinking feeling coiled in the pit of your stomach as it dawned on you – whatever had happened to Noctis and Prompto had happened to Ignis too. All three of them were acting really strangely, and even if they did all feel that way about you, the normal guys would never have approached it this way!

“Oh no, not you too Iggy.” You whispered, wishing this nightmare would just come to an end.

“You hear that specs? She isn’t interested.” Noctis gloated and pulled free from Gladio’s shock loosened arms.

“That’s not what I – stop it!”

Straight away the prince had launched himself at Prompto once more, at the same time that Prompto had gone to knock Ignis over. The result was a three way fight, all participants using their well-honed battle skills against each other. None of them were listening to your pleas, and there was no way you could intervene. You had only just started your battle training, you weren’t as fast as Noctis, or as good an aim as Prompto, or even as lithe as Ignis. To stop all three of them would be impossible.

“Gladio, do something!” You turned to the only man left with his head not clouded with some sort of irrational anger.

Wait, clouded…? Clouded! The one word sparked a realisation within you – this had to be the work of that blue gas! It was the only explanation as to why the boys had all been affected in the same way; irrational anger, possessiveness…

And lust randomly? You remembered the touch of Prompto’s hands again, altering your shooting position earlier. You had thought it unusual for him at the time, but it made sense now. They were all reacting as if certain emotions had really been heightened, that had to be the symptoms of the gas. But they had all been struck by the gas, and that meant…

Slowly you looked up at the man stood beside you, to see that his eyes were also shimmering in the same, hazy way that the other boys’ eyes had.

Oh no

Your elation at figuring out what was wrong soon disappeared, replaced by an unsettled feeling in your stomach.

“Gladio…?” You whispered hopefully, but it was like he couldn’t hear you. He was listening intently to the three boys currently fighting.

“You both have no chance. Do you even know her favourite food? Her favourite colour? How about her favourite song?” Ignis taunted, ducking low to avoid Noctis’ leg swinging for him in a strong kick.

“That I can find out about her! You don’t know how best to comfort her. Oh yes, one night when she was feeling down? She came to me.” The prince goaded, grinning at their pained expressions.

“You? Now I know you’re lying, you’re about as comforting as a wet mop, Mr help-I-can’t-deal-with-emotions.” Prompto cried and tripped Noctis up, the latter landing hard on the ground with a dull moan. Angrily, he scrambled back up to his feet before Ignis could land a punch.

“I don’t know what you’re all squawking about.” Gladio interrupted, causing the three boys to freeze momentarily, looking at him wearily. “You know it’s me who can keep her warm at night. Has she ever cuddled up to you in our tent before? I didn’t think so.” He answered with a smirk, and you felt like burying your face in your hands.

When will this end? Other status ailments usually wore off on their own, but this one was so slow to start with, who knew when it would end?

Suddenly with a heavy thud, Prompto collapsed onto his knees and fell face first onto the floor.

Prompto!” You screeched, running forward and kneeling beside him hurriedly. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that this ailment could actually… kill any of them. Nervously, you took hold of one wrist, checking for any signs of life. A steady pulse thrummed under your fingers, and you sighed in relief.

“He’s alive! Just fainted.” You breathed.

“Huh, fainted. What a coward.”

Returning your focus back to Prompto, you brushed his blonde hair gently out of his face. From that touch alone you could feel the heat radiating off his forehead – he had a fever. Was this good or bad? Did it mean his body was fighting off the ailment?

“Oh Prom. I hope you wake up soon.”

Hey!”

The shout brought your attention back to the other three, and instantly your eyes clapped onto the fallen frame of Noctis. He had also collapsed in a similar way to Prompto. It had to be the effect of the gas.

“I can’t believe…that they…” But Ignis never had a chance to finish his sentence as he followed suit, hitting the floor with a dull bang. Gladio followed straight after, his immune system most likely the stronger of the four.

Looking around you, you sighed heavily. Now what?

-

In the end, you had decided to bring the tent down to the boys, doing your best to shove them into the small space. It had been a horrible waiting game, dabbing a cool cloth at their roasting foreheads and praying that they would be okay. You’d never been more scared in your life, and you were damn sure you hadn’t slept for longer than five minutes when you felt someone shaking your shoulder.

“[Name]! [Name] c’mon, it’s time to get up or Iggy will be furious!”

“Huh?” You groaned, sitting up and opening your bleary eyes to see…

“Prompto! You’re okay!” You gasped, now wide awake. He was knelt in front of you, his cheek significantly better and his usual happy grin on his face.

“Huh? Course I am! Though for some reason this side of my face is really sore… I must have slept on it funny.” The boy sat in front of you rubbed his cheek, in the exact same place where it had swollen the day before.

“What… do you not remember how you did it?” You asked, thoroughly confused.

“Eh, not really. But since we are fighting all the time, I was probably battling it out heroically with some sort of beast.” He chuckled, and then swivelled on his heel and left you alone in the tent. Unless he was a brilliant actor – which you knew he wasn’t since he was terrible at lying – Prompto had all but forgotten the events of last night.

Eagerly you threw on your clothes and scrabbled out of the tent. On top of that hill, stood all four of the boys, chatting and laughing as usual.

What on earth…?

As confused as you were however, the relief in your heart was overwhelming. Your boys were safe, they were alive and best of all they were back to normal.

“Come on [Name], your breakfast is getting cold!” Ignis tutted in his usual, friendly yet admonishing manner that hinted he was only slightly annoyed.

Without hesitating you ran up the hill happily, smiling at the welcoming sight of the group all back to normal, though confusingly, none of them seemed to remember what had happened in their hazy state the night before. But that suited you just fine. You weren’t about to relive the horrifying details, but you knew to stay away from killer wasps in the future.

“I still don’t know why you pitched the tent down there big guy.” Prompto gestured to the tent as you dug into your breakfast.

“Actually… I don’t either. But I thought of it, so it must have been a good reason.”

“Maaan, I was so tired last night I must have just blacked out when my head hit the pillow.” Noctis stretched, beginning to pack away the camping things.

So they really don’t remember…

“Me too.” Prompto agreed.

“And me… Iggy must have cooked us a fine meal that sent us straight to sleep.” Gladio nodded at Iggy who smiled and shook his head.

“I hope that you consider all my meals that way.” He half-joked.

After you had finished wolfing down your breakfast, you helped pack away the remaining items into the regalia and soon you were on your way again, sat in between a napping Noctis and a reading Gladio. Things had really gone back to normal.

But as you relaxed in the back of the car, pleased that your boys were safe, you couldn’t help but wonder… did that gas force the illusion of those strong feelings for you onto the guys, or did it simply heighten the feelings that were already there…? You cast a quick glance at each of them, all blissfully unaware of what they had said last night.

I wonder


A/N: What do you think, dear reader? :3

THIS GOT SO MUCH GAYER THAN I INTENDED

@11-lovs heres the fic finally :DDDDDD

@ilovemyspoopydad FLUFF

Patton loves to touch.

He loves to touch soft blankets, and he he loves to hug stuffed animals. He loves kitties and puppies and all the animals. He touches the walls as he walks past and traces patterns on his thighs whenever he’s bored.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t often get to touch the other sides.

It’s been a long time, but he remembers that they feel warm and soft. He would want to cuddle all of them - but he doubts they would want to.

Which is why, when Roman suddenly puts an arm around his shoulders when they’re all watching disney movies on the couch, shock courses through Patton’s body as he shivers. Roman glances over, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, curious as to if he over stepped his bounds. Patton pauses for a moment before he giggles and cuddles close to Roman, laying his head on the prince’s chest.

“Very okay…”

They stay like that for the rest of the movie. Logan noticed the initial reaction. His curiosity is spiked as he plans an experiment.

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The cheeky little list

Summary: When you try to liven it up in the bedroom, things get a little out of hand.
Characters: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language, so many sexy innuendos and all kinds of implied situations.

A/N: The internet could use a giggle today, so here’s my submission for @bookybuns fic fest. Thanks again for letting me join! The prompt for this one was ‘Accidental Prostitution’, and hands down this is the silliest thing I have ever written, so, anyway. Also, poor Steve…

MASTERLIST  

Originally posted by rozakuolema

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“Daddy.” The 100 preferences

Bellamy Blake: 

Bellamy was pounding into you at such a hard pace that you couldn’t even think straight. Nails scratching down backs, heavy moans and groans being the only human noises. The rook reeked of sex and before you could even think about what you were saying, the words slipped between your lips. 

“Oh daddy please don’t stop.” Bellamy ceased his thrusts as he stared down at you. Your eyes widened as he looked at you with a slow spreading evil grin. 

“Daddy huh? He smirked as he snapped his hips forward. You let a needy moan out as you stared up at him with pleading eyes. 

“I like that…beg for daddy won’t you princess?” He said as he continued to thrust harshly into you.

John Murphy:

John secretly had a daddy kink and you knew it. He loved to spank and you knew that he loved to be in charge. You decided tonight was the night to confront him. You spent the whole day teasing him with brushes against his crotch and low cut shirts. You were bent over in front of him and he finally snapped. Grabbing your butt causing you to straighten up.

“Princess we need to talk.” He growled. You giggled and turned to face him. 

“Do we ever…daddy.” You whispered as you murmured hotly in his ear. He grabbed your ass with a low groan. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Just try to keep up daddy.” You winked as you strutted away from him leaving him hot on your heels. 

Jasper Jordan: 

Jasper wasn’t prepared at all the moment the word tumbled from your lips. You both stopped as it sunk in what happened. You looked at Jasper with a blush spread across your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Jasp-”

“Say it again…please.” 

“Daddy…” And with that he was pounding into you. Your nails raked down his back as he slowed down long enough for you to put your legs over his shoulders causing him to get a deeper angle. 

“Oh yeah baby girl…cum for daddy.” 

Monty Green: 

Monty had been wanting to have a night where the both of you could try out kinks. You both made a list and at the top of his you read ‘Daddy Kink’. You smirked as you looked at him.

“You want me to call you daddy?” He squirmed. You giggled as you crawled on top of him. “Don’t you like that daddy?” You asked innocently. He grabbed your face with a growl as you almost gasped. 

“You better be ready princess…daddy doesn’t plan on stopping.” 

Happenstance

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: “We don’t meet people by accident. They’re meant to cross our path for a reason” but sometimes it’s a little awkward. 

Word Count:2,565 (wtf?!)

Warnings: Language, Drinking, Implied Sex, The Fluffiest Fluff that ever Fluffed

A/N: Written for Bee’s writing challenge. I’m so sorry… it took me forever to write this. I hope it’s okay. 

Originally posted by cheekychappychris

The bar was empty except for another patron and the bartender who was cleaning mugs with a rag. It was late and you should have been in bed, sleeping soundlessly, but you were too nervous to sleep. So you got dressed in the first clothes that came to hand, grabbed your keys and decided to take a stroll around the neighbourhood.

Of course, that didn’t do a thing to calm your nerves so you settled for the next best thing: a bar not too far from your apartment. You only had a ten dollar bill and some change in your pocket, but it was enough to order their cheapest drink -a vodka cranberry.

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SIX FEET UNDER | SugarDaddy!Seb x Reader – Part 2

Originally posted by jennymagicalheart

Masterlist

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this next part! I have to head to work but I wanted to post it as soon as possible, so I’ll have to go through it and edit any little grammatical errors later!

← Part 1


You followed Sebastian into the large glass building. He lived in the penthouse loft at the top floor. It was exquisite. Dark mahogany lined the floors of the ivory colored walls. Windows lined the walls facing outward and you could see the entire city from the front door, mesmerized by the lights downtown. You noticed the curtains lining the windows were pushed back, allowing for more privacy if so wanted, but not like it was really needed on the top floor of this building. The furniture was mod-inspired but still relatively new. The furniture looked like it had barely been touched, it’s ivory-mocha blend color matching well in the loft.

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Glasses

Since I accidentally started this whole “Anti with glasses” thing, I decided I would write a little something about it. Also, this is based off of something @markired sent me and I guess there’s some Danti implied in here? Take it as you will, whether that’s platonic or romantic. 

Also, it’s past 2am here. I tried and I’m an amateur writer.

Anyway, Enjoy! x


Anti needs glasses.

Just like Jack, he needs a pair to see things in the distance. However, his eyesight is worse. That being said, he needs a pair that is stronger than the ones Jack already has and needs to get himself his own pair. He doesn’t like it – oh, he hates having to wear glasses, but contacts drive him up the damn walls so they are out of the question. He thinks they make him look nerdy and less intimidating.

No one except Anti knows that he needs them. He acts like he can see the world crystal clear when in reality, he can hardly see the street signs. It isn’t exactly a good thing when it comes to executing kills because his precision is off and he often misses his shots. This in turn frustrates Dark because he hired the guy to do the dirty work and he’s missing the target – what the fuck?

After nearly losing a seventh victim that month, Dark finally approaches Anti about it.

“Anti, the execution of your kills hasn’t been… extraordinary lately. Is there a reason for that?”

“No,” Anti grumbles, crossing his arms along his chest, “n’ quit questionin’ my killing methods. You won’t even do the kills yerself so don’t be complainin’.”

Anti proceeds to plop himself down on their couch, flipping himself so he’s upside down. His feet hang off the top and his head is hanging off the seat, watching his hair fall back and dangle in the open. It’s evident that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject any further.

But since when does Dark ever really care about Anti’s childish denial?

A deep hum vibrates through Dark’s chest as he scrutinises the green-haired male, completely disregarding his attempt at an insult. Anti, who’s fully aware he’s being watched, lifts his head to lock eyes with Dark. He squints them dangerously.

“The fuck are ye lookin’ at?” he spits out.

“You need glasses, don’t you?” Dark suddenly says, straightening his posture and canting his head to the side, “that’s why you’re having trouble executing kills properly and squinting at everything. You can’t see properly.”

“I can see fine!” Anti barks, pushing himself back up onto the couch and propping himself up with his elbows. His slightly sharper teeth become more evident as he scowls at Dark.

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I suppose you won’t have any trouble telling me what that sign across the street says?” Dark lifts a brow as he points out the window at a little yellow sign with bold black letters on it.

Anti looks over his shoulder at the sign and almost visibly pales. There’s no way he can read that. It’s just far enough for the letters to be too blurry to read. They just look like a black cloud on a yellow sign.

“I don’t need to prove myself to an old man,” Anti sneers, huffing and sliding off the couch. Before Dark can bring up the subject again, the green-haired male storms off into another room somewhere in the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Idiot,” Dark sighs, deciding to let the topic go for the time being.

A week passes by after that and yet another nearly failed kill. Dark didn’t get frustrated this time because he now knows the source of the problem, he just has to find out how to fix it. Even though he finds it absolutely ridiculous to have to chase after Anti for being a big baby who’s in complete denial, if it will help his case then he is more than willing.

That, and teasing Anti is just so much fun.

“Is it because you don’t like glasses? There are certainly contacts out there that you could use,” Dark suddenly inquires over dinner one night.

Anti freezes in his movements and peers up at his friend, a look of annoyance on his face. He grits his teeth and gives Dark the silent treatment.

“Even so, anything is better than being partially blind, don’t you think?” the other continues, slowly enjoying his meal as though his friend’s annoyance was nothing but a speck of dust on his shoulder for him to brush off.

There’s a moment of silence between the two. The only sound in the entire room is that of their utensils against their plates. Anti stops eating for a minute and simply sits there, picking at the meat in front of him.

“Don’t be stupid, Dark, I can’t wear glasses. I’m not a nerd,” Anti scoffs, eyes stuck to his plate, “n’ fuck contacts, those little shits are annoying as all fuck.”

Dark doesn’t say anything after that but instead just lifts his eyes to look at the man sitting across from him at the table. He almost wants to laugh at Anti’s comment but refrains from doing so. His mind is at work throughout the rest of the meal.

After that night, Dark eventually goes through the torturous process of discovering Anti’s prescription. It takes almost a full week before he gets the results but when he does, he feels more victorious than he has in quite some time.

And he decides to get Anti some glasses.

Dark is seated in his favorite chair one evening, relaxing while enjoying a good book. However, he’s having trouble concentrating on the letters in front of him. A disheartened sigh escapes his lips at the realisation that he won’t be able to continue.

Suddenly, a familiar voice makes its way through the once silent hallway.

DARK, WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE!?” Anti hollers from his bedroom. Dark can’t help the smug grin that spreads across his lips.

“They’re glasses, Anti. Try them on,” Dark urges, his tone calm compared to the other.

There’s a series of quick footsteps that grow louder as Anti approaches. Dark turns his head towards the open doorway to see Anti storming in, eyes practically glowing with annoyance.

I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU THAT I DIDN’T WANT ‘EM. I LOOK LIKE A FUCKIN’ NERD, DARK!” He yells, the pair of black glasses in his hand. His other is balled into a fist, practically drawing blood from how tightly it’s closed. “DON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME!?

In a fit of childish annoyance, Anti lifts his hand with the glasses held tightly between his fingers. In the split second it takes for Dark to realise what’s about to happen, Anti’s hand comes toward the ground in full force.

Dark has never moved so fast in his life. It’s as though he’s a shadow, glitching from his spot in the chair to Anti’s side. Dark’s large hand grips Anti’s wrist tightly, preventing him from throwing the glasses onto the ground and breaking them. His nearly black eyes seem to flash red for a moment.

YoU wiLL nOt breAK tHeSE, unDersTOoD?”

Dark’s voice is deep, harsh and slicing. Like the biting cold of winter, it nips at Anti’s childish conscience and fills him with fear. His hot breath tickles Anti’s ear and he shivers, eyes widening in realisation at what he was about to do and how pissed Dark is now. The hold on Anti’s wrist is bone crushing and the green-haired male grits his teeth.

Dark slowly releases Anti’s wrist and brings his hand back to his side. After taking in a slow breath, he looks Anti in the eyes with an expressionless face.

“Now, try them on,” he tries again, his voice much softer than before.

Anti is still hesitant and it shows. He glances down at the glasses in his hand with an expression of disgust. Dark rolls his eyes – he’s losing his patience.

“Anti, wearing glasses does not make you a nerd,” Dark says deeply, reaching over to a small table next to his chair. On it sits a pair of glasses which Anti has surprisingly never seen before. Dark slides them onto his face and pushes them up his nose gracefully with his finger. “See?”

Anti blinks wordlessly at Dark. His eyes are wide and are scanning Dark’s face over and over again. He’s never seen this before and Dark isn’t able to tell whether this reaction is good or bad.

“Now you really look like an old man, Dark,” Anti giggles, the sound echoing around him and layering over itself.

Dark’s brows rise and his jaw sets. “Anti, you prick, I’m going to-”

“But you’re okay-lookin’ for an old man, I guess,” he then shrugs, a smug smirk on his face.

Dark’s anger and the compliment swirl inside of him and he shuts his mouth, muttering some profanities under his breath. He looks away for nothing but a second and when his eyes return to meet Anti’s, he’s met with a sight he never thought he would see.

Anti is wearing his glasses.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, kiddo,” he says, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile.

Anti shrugs off the compliment and quickly takes the glasses off, grimacing.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles as he walks off to his room. 

Dark, now feeling satisfied, sits back down into his chair and resumes his reading – he can see the words much better now.

Both Dark and Anti begin to wear their glasses more often now, even when they don’t necessarily need them.

The last time Maryse Lightwood had seen her oldest son in the Institute chapel, he was about to martyr himself into a marriage for their family’s political gain, to find again honor that she and her ex-husband tarnished with decisions made out of delusional hate. Looking back on it now, the pride she felt while seeing him in a golden suit and with barely concealed panic buzzing underneath the neat edges of his sleeves makes her sick. It had been wrong, so very wrong. It had been something a good mother should have never done.

But Maryse has learned a lot since then - seeing her children blaze new trails in the sedentary Clave traditions and rules has taught her how to be better, how to apologize and try to redress past grievances.  She is trying to be a better version of herself, both for her allies as well as her own family, speaking apologies and confessions that should have been made long ago.

And here she is again, in the same Institute chapel, at another wedding. 


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Keep Me Warm When You’re Not Here...

If you’d rather read the fic on AO3 the LINK IS HERE

Summary:

When Keith leaves the team for his mission with the Blade he leaves behind a few things he won’t need… like his leather jacket.

Coincidentally Lance has misplaced his own jacket.

Hey Peaches! I will be updating All Aboard as soon as I can - this was just a fun little fic I did with a friend.

PS: my sister who had never seen Voltron binged it with me and her favorite character is Shiro - so I need to draw more of him. (She digs the show and finds Zarkon to be obsessive - and totes agrees that Shiro needs a vacation)

Please enjoy this little angsty romance fic I co-wrote with my bestie.

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