no one else but me and my darling will own this necklace

anonymous asked:

Can you please do the dai companions reactions to finding out the Inquisitor is actually royalty (prince/princess etc) and now their home is reaching out to them to get them back. But the inquisitor never really talked about it? Thank you!

Cassandra: She’s actually not as angry as they thought she would be. She’s miffed, of course, that they didn’t tell her, but she’s a bit more understanding– being noble isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. “Regardless of title, they now have a responsibility to the Inquisition.” she says sternly to whoever tries to bring them home. “They can decide for themselves whether or not they want to come home once our mission is complete.” She relates to them, and they often spend time talking about the follies of aristocracy and the horseshit that comes along with it. If Romanced: Her relatives in Nevarra could not approve more of their relationship, and as long as the Inquisitor himself is not up for an arranged marriage, the other side feels likewise. Both gag and ignore their families– they love each other for each other, not because it’s politically convenient. 

Blackwall: He’s stunned. He stumbles over his words when he speaks to them after finding out, not sure at all how to refer to them. They sigh and tell him to treat them like he always has, and he tries, though finds it a bit difficult to do so sometimes. He tries to ask why they left, but they don’t talk about it for awhile. If Romanced: He is extremely worried about going into romance with her. He doesn’t want the truth to come out– it will scandalize her, and he doesn’t want to do that to her. If she persists, he warns her that nothing good will come of loving him, but she still does. After he’s revealed, she shocks him by still loving him, still wanting to be with him. “Even though your family…” He’s cut off as she kisses him and reassures him that she loves him. He decides he’ll do good by her.

Iron Bull: He had information passed on from the Ben-Hassrath about who they actually were and why they left. He acts normally and doesn’t reveal that he knew until after their identity is revealed. When questioned as to why, he shrugs. “You left for a reason, Boss. If you don’t want that life, I was never going to tell anyone. That’s your right.” He knows they don’t like being treated differently, so he doesn’t. If Romanced: “You sure about this, Kadan?” he asks tentatively as they give him the dragon tooth necklace. “Your family isn’t going to like you fucking and loving a qunari mercenary…” As they consent and confirm with a kiss, he grins and pulls them back into bed. So long as they had each other, the rest of the world could fuck off, titles be damned.

Sera: She approves– not of their title, of course, but of the fact that they left all the royal nonsense behind. “Oh, piss right off!” she yells at whoever was sent to bring them back. “They’re sick of you and your noble shite! They know you’re all arseholes!” She’s not angry they didn’t tell her. “Why would I care?” she huffs. “I’m glad you don’t want the stupid title. You’re one of us lowlies, now, hah! Come on, now, let’s go stuff lizards in their drawers!” If Romanced: The same reaction as before, but she also scandalizes her girlfriend’s entire family by kissing her, repeatedly, or even having sex with her on the roof– with extra sex and kisses if her girlfriend left her home over an arranged marriage. “I love her for her, and she loves me for me– not because of any stupid titles or whatever!” she declares. She thinks it’s a hoot to constantly horrify the royal family. 

Varric: He thinks it’s a beautiful plot twist is what it is. He tries to press for more information as to why they left, several times, with varying levels of success and failure. Still, if they just want a friend who will treat them like a person, he’ll oblige. 

Cole: They feel the same to him as any other person, and he doesn’t really understand why it matters. He just feels their pain and stress like anyone else, so he’ll do his best to help them, as he already has been. “They don’t want to be called Prince(ss) (Inquisitor Name),” he says, “so we shouldn’t.”

Dorian: Oh. Oh, this is beautiful. He relates to them, a lot, and he’s not angry in the slightest they didn’t tell him. “A runaway prince(ss), I see? My, my! How interesting! Join the ‘nobles scandalizing our families’ club.” he teases, but he’s understanding if they vent to him about why they left– he knows how they feel. So they bond ever further, as friends, and he only gently teases them about their title from time-to-time. If Romanced: He’s worried. He tries to laugh it off, of course– “My, my, amatus, falling in love with a mage from Tevinter? Courting controversy and scandal, I see!” His lover persists, and he states that he loves him, titles and origins be damned. Romance takes slightly longer to proceed, because Dorian is a bit nervous about it, but he decides eventually fuck it– if they’re scandalizing their families, they’re scandalizing their families together.

Vivienne: She’s befuddled as to why they hid it at all. It could be a great asset to the Inquisition, and to themselves. “You shouldn’t hide your deserved title, Darling,” she scolds, “not now, and not ever. One day, you could be the Queen/King of your people, and you need to remember that. You are someone to be looked up to, and a leader worthy of respect. Your title only helps to reflect that.” She insists on, from then on, referring to them by their proper title, be it Prince or Princess, much to their chagrin.

Solas: He’s surprised, for once, but he thinks little of current nobility, so he leaves it be. He hopes that perhaps his lessons to them about magic and the Fade will be carried forward to their people, but otherwise respects their wishes to be not be addressed by their title and treated with respect, but none more than any person would deserve. If Romanced (I don’t know where the Elvhen princess came from, use your imagination): He seriously starts considering what will happen if he tells her the truth about who he is. He spends many nights laying awake pondering every possible scenario. Often, she asks what is wrong, to which he only forces a smile. “Nothing, Vhenan. Nothing other than wishing to take in your radiance.”

Cullen: He’s frustrated, not with them, but with the people constantly trying to take them home. “Oh, for Andraste’s sake, I’m well aware they’re royalty! It doesn’t change the fact that they have a responsibility to the Inquisition now. If they want to come home, they’ll decide that on their own terms, once everything is handled.” He has no patience at all for any of this noble horseshit. If Romanced: He gives pause, not fully realizing the fact that he’s dating a princess until after they kiss on the battlements, and it comes up when she teases him and remarks she’s happy that her title didn’t scare him away. He’s nervous, suddenly, because he has no titles outside of the Inquisition– she reassures him that as long as he loves her, that’s all she cares about, and while still nervous, he’s happy with that.

Leliana: She knew. Of course she knew– her agents would sniff out who they really were before their family got to them. She confronts them and asks why they left. They explain themselves and beg her not to tell anyone– so she doesn’t. “Keep in mind, though, that it does not matter if I keep your secret,” she warns, “your family is seeking you out, and they will find you. Everyone will know the truth, regardless of whether or not I tell them.” She still respects their wishes and treats them professionally as their spymaster, not fawning in the least over the fact they’re a prince/ss. 

Josephine: She’s startled and suddenly scrambles to correct all of her letters to reflect the Herald’s actual title. She also pulls them aside and scolds them for not telling her, and like Vivienne, says they should never hide it– it is a boon to themselves and the Inquisition. There’s no telling her otherwise. If Romanced: Her family highly approves of her relationship with the Inquisitor, and again, like Cassandra, if the Herald did not leave over an arranged marriage, their family is alright with it. Josephine falls in love with them like she would in any romance, and is a bit more understanding about why they don’t want to be treated like royalty.

Cinderella PT 2 - Jughead Jones

Okay so Cinderella went down REALLY well and I’m pretty sure I would be skinned alive  if I didn’t do a part 2 so HERE YA GO. THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG SERIES WITH SOME CHEEKY CLIFFHANGERS!!! Feel free to send me feedback/suggestions!

Words: 3,865

Warnings: Description of cuts (not self inflicted) and violence / Swearing galore


Jagged cuts, twisting like vines up your arms from shards of bottle glass. Red eyes, dried up from fallen tears. You looked like a mess.

Last night had been the most free night of your life since your Mother died. You’d danced with a boy who made your insides flutter and for the first time in forever you finally felt as if you were worth something. Of course, that feeling couldn’t last forever. It had taken the strike of a clock at midnight to remind you of your fate, awaiting you at home. A reminder that you weren’t free, and probably never would be. 

The second you had stepped in the front door, you’d felt a rough fist grab you, pulling you by the hair, as you screamed, into the kitchen. Your step-mum, in all her drunken glory, shouting  swears and profanities at you. She wouldn’t stop throwing stuff either, carelessly, not really worried if whatever she was throwing hit you or didn’t hit you. You managed to escape, with a palette of bruises, small scars and a deep gash on your leg from where your step-mum had picked up a whole box of empty bottles and smashed them at your feet. Anna and Drew had decided to stay at Cheryl’s house, so you didn’t see them for the rest of the night. 

Once the assault had finally ended, you had used the little energy you had left to go upstairs and tend to your wounds in the bathroom. You liked to think of them as battle scars. That’s what your Mother would say…

“(Y/N)! What on earth have you done you silly goose,” Your Mother, in all her radiant beauty, picked a tearful 5 year old you off the gravel pavement of your driveway and sat you down on a bench. She wiped away your tears, seating you on her lap as she brushed down your dress affectionately.

“I fell over,” You pouted, pointing to your knee. A barely visisble red cut had formed and your Mother chuckled under her breath, before leaning down and kissing it gently.

“Oh no darling, how did you manage that?” She played along with your exaggeration, putting on a fake frown.

“I was playing princesses, because I’ve always wanted to be a princess! We were being attacked by trolls, so I was leading my kingdom into battle, but I tripped! I’m an awful princess,” You shook your head, wiping away any stray tears with your clenched fists. Your mother took your hands and uncurled your fingers from their tight ball, one by one. She held them close to her heart before bending down so she was on eye level with you. She smiled at you, her eyes filled with love.

“You are a beautiful princess. A princess doesn’t have to be graceful, she has to be strong, and that’s just what you showed by braving a deadly fight with the trolls! But perhaps, maybe nobody would have to get hurt if you would talk to the trolls. Make a peace. Where there is kindness, there is goodness and where there is goodness, there is magic. Have courage my little princess, and be kind.”

Memories of your mother consumed you for the rest of the night, as you curled up tight, crying softly to yourself as nobody else could listen.

You wanted to be the princess that she always wanted you to be.

But it was so hard to be kind when people spat at your feet and showered you in hate.

You woke up in the morning, feeling tired and weighed down by the events of last night. Your mind drifted towards Jughead. What did he think of you after what you did? He probably thought you were some kind of selfish bitch, although you were used to that opinion. The thought of someone you really liked thinking about you that way bothered you. Was this the name you would make for yourself?

You had to pick yourself up and carry on. The likely situation, would be that Jughead and his friends would never speak to you again, and you would spend the rest of your high school days alone as you did before.

You were such a wallflower that you couldn’t even be bothered to make an effort with your appearance. You threw on a comfy, oversized grey sweater, black leggings and matching converse. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and only touched up with light makeup, especially around the eyes to conceal their puffy and red exterior. 

The house was quiet and you didn’t dare make a sound. Your step-mother was probably crashed on the couch. She wouldn’t be as angry as yesterday if you woke her up but it would give her enough reason to scream profanities and you didn’t have the energy to deal with her this early in the morning.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder, preparing to leave for the walk to school, considering your bike had been vandalised. Something caught your eye on the way out your bedroom though, and you turned around to look at the hook on the back of the door. Your mask from last night, still in perfect condition along with a zipped bag that contained your dress. A haunting reminder of Cheryl’s party. You were of course, missing some components of your outfit, including the bejewelled necklace and shoes. The shoes were probably back in Veronica’s closet but you couldn’t imagine the look on her face if you told her that you’d thrown away the necklace. Another hit-list you would be added to.

You shook your head, leaving the outfit untouched as you managed to creep your way downstairs and out the front door, heading for school.

The school hallways were the same as ever. Jocks pressing cheerleaders up against the lockers for impromptu make-out sessions, public arguments, people who were too loud for their own good, people who wanted to get out of the crowded hallway as soon as possible, popular kids, non-popular kids, normal kids. And then you, so bland to an outsider that you couldn’t be placed in a category. Too naive and pretty, the perfect girl next door with good looks and good grades.

You were so much more. If only people knew.

“Chin up princess or your crown will slip”

Your mother would say to you. Don’t let people put you down. Those who put you down only feel bad about themselves, and you should try and reach out to them. 

Your thoughts clouded your head, so you didn’t realise when an arm reached out to grab you. You let out a tiny yelp, that was drowned by the noise of the hallway, as the person latched onto your arm, pulling you into the Janitor’s closet. You managed to push them off of you before stepping back to look at your kidnapper. Kidnappers.

Betty and Veronica, arms crossed, staring at you so intensely they could start a fire. They stepped to the side, to reveal that behind them was the boy you’d danced with the night before. You felt your face flush crimson as he stared at you with a similar intensity before stepping forward.

“(Y/N)…” he began but you cut him off quick.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll work days on end to pay for the necklace, and anything else I damaged. I didn’t mean to leave like that it’s just, my step-mo-” It was now Jughead’s turn to interrupt you as he pulled you in to a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing soothing circles where his hands lay. You were stiff with surprise, before melting into his arms and letting out a small sob. It was so relieving to finally have someone to lean on. You couldn’t help but feel weak though. 

When the two of you finally broke apart, Veronica and Betty went in for a reassuring hug, before linking arms and leaving the tight closet, so you two could spend the time alone together.

“Bets and Ronnie told me about your home life,” He confessed and you hung your head in shame. “You should have told someone,” His voice was now a whisper, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, they were drowning in concern and that one helpless look that you knew too well.

“I couldn’t. She’d kill me,” You bit your lip, trying to stop the tear dam from overflowing for the 80th time since last night. You couldn’t help but cling to him again, desperately searching for something to hold onto. He let you, soothingly rubbing your back as you buried your head in his shoulder. He froze, and you realised the sleeves of your sweater had rode up during the hug. You tried to play it off but he had already seen the bottle cuts. 

“Were these…did you?” Jughead was speechless and you shook your head rapidly.

“No no no. They’re from bottles that she threw at me when I got home late,” You sounded like you were reassuring him but this really wasn’t any better than what he thought you had done in the first place.

“My god (Y/N)” He traced his fingers up them at a slow pace, causing you to feel waves of shivers. “We have to tell someone, anyone.”

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Please Jug, don’t you think I’ve tried to reach out once or twice? Nobody will listen to me. I’m not worth people’s time. Especially with Anna and Drew now on Cheryl’s side and no proof of what they do to me. If I tried to reach out, I would be labelled as an attention seeking whore,” You choked out, your voice raw from the sobbing. You were so done with tears. You made to leave but Jughead grasped your wrist, pulling you so hard that you stumbled into him, hands pushing into his chest. You felt embarrassed all over again, and when you looked up at him he was smirking and wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You jumped back, hiding your face in your baggy sweater so he couldn’t see your overwhelming tomato blush.

“Seriously though, don’t go, not yet,” He whispered. “Stay.”

He sounded so genuine and vulnerable. You sighed, before pulling up a small stool that the Janitor used to reach higher windows on tall walls and sitting down, waiting for what Jughead had to say.

“What if I told you I did have proof?” 

“I would say you’re lying to me and this is some kind of sick joke but I guess that gives you an insight in to how low my expectations have fallen at this point.”

He rolled his eyes and you chuckled in response.

“Me and Betty were at the party to interrogate certain people on Jason Blossom’s murder for the Blue and Gold, we carried around a voice recorder. I couldn’t stand how sociable it was, being an antisocial myself, so I gave Betty the recorder and sulked off for the rest of the party until you found me. Long story short, she recorded your sisters recording me and you but they ended up saying shitty things about you and how they were going to expose you so Bob’s your uncle, there’s your proof! This could change everything,” Jughead paced back and forth, pausing every now and then so you could take things in. He looked excited at the end for your reaction, but you looked deadly pale.

“Anna and Drew know I was at the party?” You whispered, eyes widening in fear. This clearly wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for and he bent down so he was eye level for you, resting his warm hands over your shaking ones.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We have weapon on our side here, we could use this to our advantage!” He rubbed your hands together. You hated how he talked about this as if it were some kind of huge game or war.

“And they have huge dirt on me. They could show my step-mum. She’d skin me alive. Find a way to frame me for stealing the outfit, beat me to death no matter what counter evidence you have,” You picture her face, her rage. Your whole body was violently shaking now.

“We could gather more against your step-mum overtime, this will just stop your sisters in the mean time. They’ve built themselves a reputation over the past couple of weeks and they wouldn’t dare spoilt it,” He pulled you off of the stool and into another tight hug. Your head rested on his lap as you tried to calm yourself. Think happy thoughts.

Princess. Scars. Record. Necklace. Shoes. Advantage. Proof. Don’t go. Please. Stay.

Words that wouldn’t stop repeating and ringing in your ear.

You’d left the closet, Jughead at your side. He’d tried to reassure you and although you felt better than before, you still doubted this whole muddle that you were caught up in. You wished that the ground would open up, devouring you into the darkness below.

You made it through most of the day without an issue. Sadly, just after lunch you ended up running into the people you wanted to avoid the most. You were walking down the hall towards the water fountain, throat parched from the outdoor heat.

“(Y/N) is it?” A voice called your name and you froze. You were never acknowledged in these halls. You turned around and met face to face with the demon queen of high school herself, Cheryl Blossom. 

You nodded your head as a response, over analysing all of her movements and gestures in your head. Why was she talking to you? Why did she care? “Honey, you can speak. I don’t bite,” She giggled sickeningly, before linking her arm in yours. The two of you continued to walk down the corridors, not really going anywhere, you just let Cheryl lead you.

“Umm Cheryl, what… what do you want?” You asked, fearing the worst.

“I just wanted to walk and talk. According to your sisters, my newest henchmen, you were killing it at my party last night. They showed me a picture,” Cheryl’s overly sweet voice made you feel sick to your stomach, as you just tried to go along with what she was saying.

“Thank you,” You mumbled and Cheryl flipped back her long, ruby locks.

“Honestly I don’t know why you don’t come to my parties more often when you strut around wearing dresses like this,” She stopped, pulling out her phone and showing you a screenshot. It was a screenshot of the video. Did Anna and Drew send this to her? You were holding Jughead’s hands, your dress exposed to the moonlight, basking in it’s intricate and elegant design with pride. You couldn’t help but think you actually looked beautiful. When you looked back to Cheryl with a soft smile on your face, your mood was shattered by her sudden cold, piercing eyes. “Where did you get it?” Her tone sounded mocking and you instantly ripped your arm away from hers.

Cheryl tilted her head in feign hurt and bewilderment as you backed away from her. She was giving you disturbing vibes and you didn’t want to be alone with her in this hallway anymore. You rushed down the stairs, merging in with the now crowded ground floor hallways now that lunch was over. You thought you were safe, leaning against your locker and taking in deep breaths. 

Two arms slammed down at either side of your head, but they were from different people. You were trapped once again, the sense of freedom flying even further away. You suddenly missed not mattering at all, to anyone. You shouldn’t have gone to that stupid party.

Anna and Drew loomed over you and although they weren’t that taller than you, you couldn’t feel any more small. Drew dug her nails into your wrist, so different to how Jughead had handled you. She dragged you into an empty classroom before slamming you up against a whiteboard, Anna hot on her tail.

“Listen fat freak,” Drew hissed and you winced. “Did you really think you could just skip back into school like nothing happened? Did you not get wasted as you grinded on that boy last night?” She spat the words, spewing lava that burned you. 

The way she twisted the romance, the happiness that you had felt made everything so much worse. As if they were taking away your safe haven.

“I didn-” You began but your step-sisters simultaneously slammed their hands down at your sides again and you jolted, stopping dead in your tracks.

“We have video evidence of everything that happened. Imagine if we were to leak this to a certain someone. We could twist the story, innocent girl gone rogue,” Drew continued to jeer. Anna didn’t say much, she just nodded every now and then.

“My-my friends.. they have audio evidence of you. It could ruin you,” You mustered up your confidence, chin help up in defiance.

Keep your head up Princess.

“Your friends? Pfft! Anyone can be bribed princess,” Drew mocked. “They’re not your friends. Besides, what will it do? What we said about you, Mummy would agree with and you know it. Us being a bit bitchy won’t stop her from beating you to a bloody pulp.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the images that were forming in your mind. The bottles. The boxes of empty bottles.

“What do you want from me?” Your voice cracked, head down, tears spilling.

“A lot, but you’ll learn soon enough. You have a debt to pay if you want to keep this under lock and key (Y/N)” She toyed with her phone, the video tauntingly paused on the screen.

“D, that’s enough, she gets the point,” Anna sighed, grabbing her sisters hand and pulling her off of you and out of the room. Drew wouldn’t stop glaring at you.

“The game has begun bitch,” Was the last thing you heard, and you slumped  down, head in your hands.

Here lies Celia (Y/L/N)

Loving wife of Thomas (Y/L/N)

And Mother of (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

A Queen in other’s eyes, she will be missed.

You read the epitaph over and over again every time you visited her grave. Beside it, you lay down another bouquet of white lilies. You just stood there, staring. You would look like a creep to a bystander but you didn’t care. You found comfort in talking to your Mother. She would always listen.

“I can’t do it Mum,” You shook your head, kicking the ground with frustration, accidentally shovelling earth with the heels of your feet. “My whole life I’ve dedicated to kindness, to tolerance and to resilience and to patience and all the values you taught me. You taught me to keep my head up strong and to believe in myself. You taught me that kindness is the route of all good magic. How am I supposed to believe in myself when nobody else does?” 

You would always let everything go here, this was your time away from home, from school, from the drama to scream out loud and just let it all go.

“I want to Mother, I want to be the princess that you want me to be. But how can I be graceful if I just keep falling down. How can I be pretty when I’m decorated in scars. These aren’t battle scars, these are just reminders that I’M WEAK, THAT’S ALL I AM. I’M WEAK AND I’M ALONE AND…. and… I’m afraid,” You felt yourself crumple into a pile on the floor sobbing into the mud. You didn’t care how crazy or dirty you looked. The only time people noticed you is when you were flawed. You did good things for others all the time but people only cared about when you fucked up.

You felt so fake. Like a Barbie doll. Other people were pulling the puppet strings and you felt so weak and vulnerable. So fake.


“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burger before,” Jughead’s mouth was full of food as he talked and you almost choked with laughter. He had invited you to study at Pop’s after school. When he found out you had never tried a burger before in your life, her forgot about studying and made it his mission to get you to try one of Pop’s very own. ‘Why not start with the best’ he’d said and you had to admit, it was pretty damn delicious.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just the queen of microwave dinners,” You laughed and he smirked, shaking his head. It had been a week since the incident with Drew and Anna. You had confided in Betty and Veronica about what happened. You told Jughead about Cheryl, but not about your stepsisters because you really didn’t want to worry him. Especially now that you were spending time together like this, times where you felt happy. You couldn’t dream of ruining that.

Besides, it didn’t prove to be that much of an issue. It had been a week and their threats had not fallen through, which gave you some hope that this would all be over before you knew it. Juggie and Betty had accepted you into the Blue & Gold, so you had an excuse to spend a lot of time at Betty’s house. You could also focus your mind on something else and it was really helping your fragile mental state.

You’d gained confidence through hanging out with the SBC and you were beginning to finally see the positive outcome of that fateful night at the party. 

But when something is going right for you, it’s just not allowed to last for long is it?

You were currently having a “Pop’s Fries Scoffing Competition” with Jughead and were winning by a mile when Jughead’s phone began to buzz, violently. As in, it wouldn’t stop buzzing. It wasn’t a phone call though, just someone who seemed very eager to text him. He ended up getting so distracted that he had to stop ‘scoffing’ and check his notifications, a look of clear annoyance plastered on his face.

You were busy gloating about your glory, doing a victory dance. Jughead’s eyes were wide, with fear and shock as he dropped his phone on the table, the loud bang stirring you from your imaginary victory parade.

“What’s wrong sourpuss? Sad you lost?” You smirked, reaching over to steal his food, the prize of the bet. Another reason the two of you got on so well was your shared love of food, specifically trashy junk food which did not in any way treat your body like a temple.

“The voice recording,” He slowly rose from his side of the booth. You tensed, putting a fry which was on it’s way to your mouth back down again. 

“What about it?” You were afraid to ask, because judging by his expression, it wasn’t positive news.

“It’s gone.”

Here lies Celia (Y/L/N)

Loving wife of Thomas (Y/L/N)

And Mother of -

The only remaining evidence left of the now destroyed gravestone.


DISCLAIMER: I spell Mum as Mum because I’m British and it’s just a habit, although i did use the word ‘candy’ in a fic once rather than ‘sweets’. I apologise for my inconsistency :3

@mrsjugheadjonesthethird @jvghead-jones-iii @siaralovesgaming @theselfishllama @daehguj @coffee-and-bloodshed @violet1234 @madeforcs @duchessdaisybat @skittles-anime-123 @annoyingsibling @derangedcordelia @unicornqueen05 @bugheadjr @pomonasprowt @twd-addictt @finding-jones @iambrendone @acambridge @eli-cya @sl-eep-ing @emokiddisney @mitchellnicole @unapologetically-insane @annakins422 @alexander—–hamilton @itsonlytori1 @imaginethefandoms-2313 @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @vanessa-sanch-blog @scooby6 @captainelsaeverdeen @mrs-jughead-jones @tasteofswallowedwords @full-dark-no-starsxx (i added 3 people at the end cos i wanted you to see dis cos i love you guys :3)

Tom Holland Imagine: So Cute

Summary: You’re visiting Tom’s family for the first time and insist on buying them a bottle of wine so you don’t show up empty handed and Tom helps you pick what kind

A/N: I just really don’t know why Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling aren’t married… (also, sorry this is super short)

Warnings: none


“Toooommmmm!” I whined for about the 500th time within the few minutes we had been in the store.

Tom rolled his eyes playfully again as he pulled me into his side. We continued to walk through the store as we scanned though all the different kinds of wine.

“How do you not know what your parents drink!?” I asked.

“Y/N, it’s really not a big deal. You already bought them both gifts and you didn’t even have to do that! Honestly, you don’t need to be doing this, love.”

“Yes I do! I can’t just not get them something!”

“But you already bought my mother a necklace and my father a tie! You’re fine!”

“Noooo! I need something else for both of them!”

Tom sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. I began to wonder off on my own when Tom’s phone rang. He answered it after he mouthed to me that it was his mother.

I scanned over all the different brands and flavors and ages. How the hell am I supposed to know which one they like!?

I trudged back over to Tom and tried to get his attention to ask his mother. Tom kept shaking me off and pointing to his phone.

“I know, Tom! I’m trying to get you to ask her about the wine!” I whispered.

Tom waved me off and turned away from me.

I huffed, angry from the lack of attention and playfully bit Tom’s shoulder. Tom smiled at me over his shoulder before he began to playfully act like he was being attacked. I giggled at his stupidity and walked away over to another set of wine bottles.

I heard Tom hang up the phone and walk over to me. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled his face into the crook of my neck.

“My mother said she likes just plain old red wine. Nothing special to it.” Tom said as he laid a kiss on my collar bone.

I grabbed the bottle off the wall and headed to the check out. I slapped my card on the table before Tom could even think about paying for it.


“It’s my gift, Tom. Not yours.”

Tom held his hands up in surrender and backed away. I smiled and kissed his cheek as the cashier bagged the bottle of wine.

“Thank you.” I said to her.

I intertwined Tom and I’s fingers and walked to the doors. Just as Tom and I were about to leave, he heard his name being called.

Tom and I turned to see two girls smiling widely as they stood next to their parents. The girls looked at each other before they ran up to Tom and hugged him.

“Can we have a picture?”

“Of course.”

Tom took pictures with both of the girls, acting stupid and cute with both of them, clearly making their day.

I stood to the side and smiled at my boyfriend when I felt one of the girls tap my shoulder.

I turned to her and smiled kindly.

“Hi, Y/N. I know you probably hear this a lot but I just really think you’re beautiful. Tom’s really lucky to have a girlfriend like you.”

“No, I’m the one who’s lucky.” I said as I looked at the love of my life as he shot me a wink.

After the girls got their pictures, Tom and I headed to his parents’ house.

After we finished dinner with his parents, Tom and I headed up to his room to watch movies and cuddle.

As Tom watched Star Wars, I played on my phone and opened Twitter. I smiled as I saw the girls that we had met today had post the pictures the took with Tom.

Tom looked down when he felt me chuckle.

“What’s so funny, love?”

“Those girls from today. They took a video of us and made it into a gif.”

I held my phone up to Tom and saw him smile when he watched the gif of me biting Tom’s shoulder and then him acting like he was being attacked.

“Did you read the caption, darling?”

I pulled the phone back to my face and read what the girls had written.

“So we saw Tom and Y/N shopping for wine today and they were just honestly the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. Plus, they were total sweethearts when we asked for pictures. New #otp”

I smiled and leaned up to place a kiss on Tom’s smiling lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

this is the golden age (of something good and right and real)

♡♡♡ for the lovely @jackiemoreno, the brightest star in my sky ♡♡♡

also on ao3

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, darling.“ Lena answers right away, accent thicker than usual despite the fact she’s been back in Ireland for so little time. “Just two more days until I’m back home.”

Kara presses the phone closer to her ear, closing her eyes and concentrating until she can hear the steady rhythm of Lena’s heartbeat. She sighs for what feels like the thousandth time since her girlfriend has been gone, never mind the fact it’s only the fifth day of their week long separation - her heart aches as if they’ve been apart for months.

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I Love You Most

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested: No

Prompt/Summary: You are staying at the Burrow over Christmas because Fred discovered the truth about your abusive parents. You aren’t expecting much for the holiday, but Fred goes out of his way to make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had.

Word Count: 2,482

Pronouns Used: She/Her

Warnings: Slight/Referenced Bullying, Referenced Abuse from Parents

Author’s Note: This imagine includes references to parental abuse and incidents that could be seen as bullying. While neither are described in detail, and no specific events of either abuse or bullying are pictured, I want all readers to be as safe as possible, so if these topics are in any way triggering to you, I implore that you read with extreme caution or you do not read this imagine at all.

Your name: submit What is this?

Originally posted by fantasyimagine

Fred grabbed the cloth coat that was once hung over the oak chair beside him. Slipping it around his body, he made his way to the door to exit the Burrow when Molly suddenly appeared behind him.

“Where do you think you’re going, Fred Weasley?” she demanded.

“Oh, you know, out,” he responded.

“Tell me where you are going right this instant, young man!” Molly raised her voice, making the conversation conceivably audible to the rest of the Burrow’s residents.

“Will you please keep your voice down?” he implored. “If you must know, I’m off to get (Y/N) a Christmas present.”

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I love you

Part 9

This is very long overdue and I am so very sorry that it has taken me over a month to get this written. To everyone who kept asking me about it, there was just a lot going on and I have’t had a lot of time to write and I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to make sure you guys don’t wait more than a week for the next part!

Also, I am always accepting requests for fics. I’m working on three others which is another reason why this took so long to crank out. And I also love feedback on my writing so don’t be shy. 

But yeah… part 9. I’ve got some big stuff for part 10 so get ready. ;)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8.

Word Count: 4,344


A warm fire crackled with life mere inches from my freezing toes.

I was perched on the coffee table in the living room of Rhysand’s house—my boyfriend’s house.

God, that was still weird to say. Rhysand is my boyfriend. He had officially asked me over two months ago but it felt like it was only yesterday.

We were cuddled up on the couch in my apartment just after thanksgiving. The credits to the movie we had just finished were rolling across the screen. Rhys was on his side and I was on my back, nestled neatly against his chest.

The scent of jasmine and citrus and the sea was stuffed into my nose with him so close, and his warmth was making me drowsy.

A sleepy smile tugged at my lips as I felt his fingers brush my cheeks. His muttered “Feyre” made me open my eyes halfway to look at him.

“Hmmm,” I murmured sleepily to him.

He stroked my cheek gently, trying to coax me out of my disoriented state, all it did was lull me to sleep some more.

“Feyre, I— you know I really like you—“

“Mhmm.” My hand felt its way up his chest and hooked around the back of his neck. My fingers had woven their way into his silken hair.

“And we’ve been going out for a few weeks,” he paused and I had felt the weight of his eyes on my face.

“Feyre are you awake?”

My eyes fluttered open to meet two pools of violet staring intently at me.

“Feyre I—would you, I mean,” he huffed a frustrated sigh. “What I’m trying to ask—ugh. Feyre… will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” The words tumbled out of lips and fell upon me like a warm blanket.

I gazed at him for what felt like an eternity, my brain taking its time to process what he had asked. Rhysand, this amazing person who I had come to know asked me to be his girlfriend.

Rhysand asked me to be his girlfriend!

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Long Live the Queen (M) Pt. 3

Pt 1  Pt 2  Pt 4 Pt 5  Pt 6 Pt 7


Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Rated M for possibly mature themes in future updates, probably smut, swearing, murder, violence. I might get a little crazy with this

Summary: Jungkook’s name on the streets is the ‘Golden Prince’ for all the fanciful things he’s taken as his own. As a thief he can steal anything, even when he’s propositioned to steal the Queen herself. Stealing her heart however, will prove to be another matter completely.

A/N: here it is guys! Part three!! I hope you guys enjoy ^~^ 

Credit for this idea and the artwork goes to @baepsaeboyss

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Imagine you and Chris going to your best friends’ wedding weekend. (Part B)

A/N: Part 4B ❤️ @chrisevans-imagines Oh man, your birthday is really soon! I hate how expensive postage is, so I’m glad Tumblr is free. We can consider this an unconventional present, right? Sorry this didn’t come out at it’s regular time, I was a little distracted watching Zac Efron movies last night. 😋 You can read the related mini-series and the previous parts here: (Mini-series - Masterlist; Mini-series Spin-off: ‘Unexpected Reader’, ‘Little Ways Away’, ‘She Said Yes’, ‘Miss Graduate’, ‘Something Blue’, ‘Something New’ - Masterlist; ‘Baby Steps’: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3A/3B/Part 4A)

It was only 7:00AM when you got to Ava’s room, but she was already having breakfast while her hairstylist worked on putting her long locks into an elegant up-do. “Aw, babe. You look exhausted.” You spotted a sympathetic smile on her lips when you moved to stand behind her and she caught you in her sights. “You know you don’t have to get up so early, you can come when the beauticians are ready to work on you.”

“And miss the chance to have a little girl talk?” You giggled, pulling up a chair so you could get off your feet. “No thanks.” You bit playfully and she laughed, reaching behind her to squeeze your hand before returning to her cereal. “So how are you feeling?” You asked, resting your hands on your belly. “I feel like we haven’t had as much alone time since the guys came to our lives. I love them, but there are some days where I’d still rather just you and me.”

“Yes, take me back to those good old days.” She joked and you nodded, laughing. “I’m feeling good, really good. I’m excited to get married, and I’m excited to meet our little boy and your little boy and- Things are good, really good,” she nodded and you found yourself nodding in agreement. “And how are you doing? Are you a little less overwhelmed now?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’ve had some time to really just sit and bask in the fact that I am pregnant and I am going to be a mom. Chris and I went to a birthing class together for the first time, which is ridiculous considering Jack’s due next month.” Ava nodded, laughing; she and Sebastian signed up for all the classes as soon as they found out they were pregnant. “And I finally joined him shopping for clothes and other nursery items instead of letting mom and Lisa take my place. I don’t know, it’s still a little overwhelming but I am feeling much better about it all. Chris has been a rock, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“You’d strive anyway,” she winked and you smiled, “you’re amazing like that.”

“Knock knock,” Ava’s mom poked her head into the room and you both turned to smile at her. Your smile widened when you saw who was with her; Ava’s baby brother, Kian. You smiled and gave him a little wave, earning one in return. “I hope we’re not interrupting, we just thought we’d come and see how things were going. Kian also had something he wanted to give his big sister. Go on, sweetheart. Go give Ava the present you got her,” she released his hand and he padded over to Ava with a little paper bag.

“How are you, Mandy?” You smiled at her when she pulled up a chair and sat down next to you.

“You’re asking me? I should be asking you that,” she smiled and gave your belly a gentle rub. Your smiles widened when Jack kicked under her palm. “I heard about your RV road trip,” she chuckled when she pulled her hand away, and you bit back your smile. “You poor darlings, maybe you should just stay in New York and have the baby here.”

“No way,” you laughed, “Chris would have a heart attack. Ever since Seb saw me in a Yankees cap, he has been sending me Yankees merchandise for my birthday and Christmas presents. And he knows I’m not an actual baseball fan, he just likes messing with Chris.” Mandy laughed. “I am not going to give him another reason to drive Chris up the wall by giving birth in New York. Seb will mark Jack with the Yankees seal and Chris will pop a vessel.”

“Funny you should say that,” Ava looked at you and her mom through the mirror as she picked her brother up to sit him on her lap. “Seb was actually hoping you’d go into labor while you were in New York.” You laughed because why were you not surprised? “He has a little Yankees cap with Jack’s name embroidered on the back waiting in our apartment to- he said and I quote, ‘bless Baby Cap’s little head with’.”

“He couldn’t just get one for his own son and leave Jack out of it?”

“We haven’t thought of a name yet, but don’t worry- our little peanut will get a hat too.” She said, drawing laughter from you and Mandy. “What did you get me, Kian?” She asked in a softer, gentler voice as she addressed her brother. “Thank you so much, little man.” She took the little paper bag and gasped when she pulled out Cartier’s signature red box; the size looked like the contents involved a necklace. “Is this a joke?” She turned to face her mom with furrowed brows. “How much did you guys spend?”

“Enough for our daughter to know how happy we are for her,” she got to her feet and kissed the top of Ava’s head. Ava sighed, but smile and kissed her mom’s cheek as a thank you. “We’ll leave you girls to it. Come on,” she lifted Kian into her arms and exited.

“What is it?” You sat forward to peer over Ava’s shoulder as she opened the lid of the box, revealing a eye-catching sapphire necklace. You smiled when you saw Ava’s eyes quickly fill with tears, knowing she was touched by her parents’ thoughtfulness and generosity. She didn’t show much interest when you asked her if she wanted to meet the old wedding tradition: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a six pence in one’s shoe. It may have been a folklore that originated from her country, but she was a lot more practical than you were; she didn’t live her life like it was a romantic comedy. Either way, you could tell she was overjoyed with the gift from the look in her eyes when you said, “looks like you got your something new and something blue after all.”

• • • • • • • •

Sebastian stood in front of the full length mirror in his room and adjusted his tie. His eyes darted to the clock hanging on the wall behind him; 11:43AM which meant there were seventeen minutes until he was officially married. He let out a shaky breath as he rubbed his hands together, all the while experiencing the incessant flutters that came from the wings of the butterflies living in his stomach. Now he knew Ava was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but it didn’t stop him from feeling nervous. Everything was happening so quickly, he was going to get married today and in June- he was going to become a father to a baby boy. All these were great things that he was excited for, but it was a little overwhelming. You and Sebastian were similar there; you were extremely good at psyching yourselves out. Hence why you’d both found life partners in Chris and Ava, they were good at bringing the two of you back to reality.

“Bas,” Chace threw a scrunched up ball of paper across the room and got Sebastian in the shoulder, earning the attention he wanted from his best friend. “Are you okay?” He chuckled softly at the nervous expression on Sebastian’s face. “Do you need some air?” He asked and got a head shake 'no’ from Sebastian.

“It’s okay if you do,” Don told him. “I did too.”

“I know it is,” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “But I don’t.”

“You sure?” Anthony furrowed his brows. “'Cause you lo-”

“Oh my God,” Sebastian growled under his breath. “Yes I’m sure.”

They all stopped asking, pressing their lips together. It was clear he needed something, but they didn’t know what. Of course Chris knew- not because he knew Sebastian the best out of all the guys in the room, but because he had felt what Sebastian was feeling on his wedding day. He needed to see you then as much as Sebastian needed to see Ava now. It would’ve seemed ridiculous to anyone else considering he was going to see her in fifteen minutes, but Chris understood. Sebastian helped the two of you have an amazing moment before the wedding, the least Chris could do was get him to Ava. He pulled out his phone and texted you: “Seb needs to see Ava, think you can get her to the lighthouse?” The reply he got from you drew a chuckle from him: “I was just about to text you the same thing. Yes, we’re heading there now.”

“C'mon, Seb.” Chris placed both hands on Sebastian’s shoulders and started to steer him out of the room. “Trust me.” He said when Sebastian tried to fight his actions. “You need some air out by the lighthouse,” Chris spoke in a tone that Sebastian immediately understood; he bolted out the door. “We’ll be back before the wedding starts,” he assured all the confused faces in the room then ran after Sebastian.

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines@widowsfics@m-a-t-91@imaginesofdreams​  @katiew1973@winter-tospring@shamvictoria11@soymikael@faye22@always-an-evans-addict@heartblackerthancoffee@whenyourealizethisisntagoodname@yourtropegirl@smoothdogsgirl@createdbytinyaddiction@dreamingintheimpalawithdean@rileyloves5@buckys-shield​ @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast@ssweet-empowerment@chrixa@feelmyroarrrr@akidura79@castellandiangelo@edward-lover18@yourenotrogers@im-a-fandom-slut@royalexperiment256@palaiasaurus64​ @tacohead13 @badassbaker@pegasusdragontiger@sfreeborn@dorisagent101@aekr@imagine-cats96@adeptkillsyasse​ @shliic @justanotherfangurlz@winchesterandpie@creativeheartgemini@camerica96​ @thestarlighthotel @lilya-petrichor@pinkleopardss @lizzysugar@bywonater@avengingalec@nerdingoutismylife@rayleyanns@captainxamerica@lapetitsyrene@01asianista@alwayshave-faith@southernbellestatues

Part 4C

Wash away the pain

Spec fic: Emma copes with the belief that Killian has left her while he deals with the pain he has caused and desperatley tries to get back.


There are fresh cotton sheets on the bed. That’s one of the first things she had done the morning after he hadn’t returned home. The hurt she had taken to bed with her the night before had hardened into something more potent over the hours she had spent lying awake long after the world had fallen asleep: wondering where he was and why he hadn’t called.

(Fearing it was she who had pushed him away. She was good at that after all.)

In a frenzy, she had torn the sheets away. The ones that smelled like his cologne. The ones where they had only the night before made blissful love as she wore his ring on her left hand. Thank god Henry was still asleep as she tossed them into the washer, her eyes full of tears, hoping that somehow the soap suds could wash away her own pain along with the scent of him.

Now another day had passed. Another day without sleep. Her eyes are red as she pushes her face into the too-clean pillow case. Her phone lies beside her, tauntingly bare of communication from him. She wants to call him. She wants to hear his voice and beg him to come home. It’s too quiet without his laughter. It’s too cold without his arms around her.

It doesn’t feel like home when he’s not there.

Oh how she wishes she could dial back the days. She wishes she could see that he was troubled.

(How she wishes he had believed in her enough to share his secret.)

They were both a little lost still, she realizes.

A little too broken.

And perhaps not enough.

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Honey, I’m Home! ~Part 2 (Moriarty x Reader)

Originally posted by just-purely-insane

Originally posted by supersok123

“Honey, I’m home.  Did you miss me?”

You can hear that there’s a smile in his voice through your shut door as he slips inside the apartment and locks up behind him.

You can’t hear his footsteps, and are reminded how remarkably catlike he is.

It’s like nothing has changed.  The similarities are striking between then, before you left him, and now, when you came back.

You, lying in a room in his house, waiting for him to come back.  Against your own will, feeling a rush of happiness when you hear that he’s come back home at the end of the day.  It’s like nothing has changed.  You’re surprised how easy it is to slip back into old habits.

You hear one, two, three locks click, and your door swings open.

“You locked me in?”  You ask incredulously.  You hate it when he treats you like a caged bird.

“Don’t most people lock up what’s precious to them?”  He asks, a soft smile touching his lips.  "It was merely for protection, pet.  You know what you mean to me.“

He crosses the small room in two swift strides, and kneels down beside you, taking your left hand in his.

"Moriarty,” you start.

He frowns.  "I thought we were more than that, Y/N.“

You can’t help but roll your eyes and give a small smile.  "Jim.  I know you did something to him.”

He gasps, and widens his eyes.  "Me?“

"Don’t play that game.  I know you too well.”

“Fine.  He deserved it, anyway.  It’s a shame not to take credit for a masterpiece.”

“Can I ask what it was that you did?”  Your voice is frosty, but secretly, you’re pleased.  It was things like this that made you love him.

“I just cut him up a little.”

You tilt your head to the side, and give him an icy stare.

“All right, all right, in the Achilles tendon.”

You give a small smile.

“Jim,” you chide softly.

“I know, I know…” “Jim, the next time you go to get revenge on my ex… I want you to take me with you.”

Jim stares at you in astonishment for a moment.

Without any warning, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you firmly, holding you there until you run out of breath and he releases you.


A week later, Jim finally allows you to move out of the room you’ve been kept in, and try to walk on your ankle.

You and him take slow, hobbling laps around the living room as you lean on him, clutching at his arm for support.

Today, you’ve just finished your hourly lap, and he’s tucked you in with a blanket and a steaming mug of tea.

He sits down in a chaise lounge opposite you, and spreads his arms along the back of the chair,  kicking up his legs on the glass coffee table in front of him.

You want to ask him the question that’s been bothering you for a week, but you don’t quite know how to ask it.

Not wanting to talk yourself out of it one more time, you blurt it out: “Jim, are you my boyfriend?”

He opens his eyes, and stares at you, his catlike grin spreading across his lips.  "No.  You just life at my place, we eat dinner together, and we kiss in a way that you definitely wouldn’t kiss Joe from HR, if you know what I mean.“

You smile.  "Shut up.  I was just wondering.”

You wait another minute.

“WOULD you bring me along if you needed to beat up someone else?”

This time, Jim doesn’t say anything.

“You NEVER let me help with your work!”  You pout your lower lip.

This time, Jim actually laughed aloud, and sat forward, looking and speaking to you like you’re a very small child.

“Y/N,” he starts, chuckling, “You don’t have, shall we say, the necessary fear factor to help with my line of work.”

You shift yourself to face him fully, setting your tea down on the arm of the couch.

“You don’t think I’m scary.”  It isn’t a question.

Jim tries to backpedal, realizing that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Darling, I love you, you know I do, but do you honestly think that you can intimidate anyone?”

Fire burns in your eyes, and you turn away from him, fuming silently.

Jim rushes to your side, and begins to grovel, taking you by the hand, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to your elbow as he gushes out compliments.

“You’re brilliant, you are gorgeous, there is no one in this life I could possibly love more than I love you–”

“Stuff a sock in it, honey.”  You spit, and turn away. 

Jim eventually lets go of your limp hand, and leaves the room, most likely to steal you an elaborate gift.

It doesn’t matter.  You can’t forgive him for this!

In the world of Jim Moriarty, fear is respect.

If Jim didn’t see how you could be feared, than somewhere deep in his mind, he didn’t see how you could possibly be respected.

That kind of thinking makes sense, you suppose.  After all, no one would dare hit Moriarty the way that Don hit you.

Even still.

If Jim doesn’t fear you, you have to MAKE him fear you.

The only trouble now is figuring out how.


There were more diamonds on the necklace that Jim is holding in his hands than he had ever seen on a piece of jewelry in his entire life.

It had been child’s play stealing it from the jeweler’s, and now all he has to do is bring it home to you and plead with you until you simply CAN’T remain mad at him.

A woman had never refused him before.

Smiling to himself about the cause of the fight in the first place, he enters the house and quickly crosses over to the living room, where he had left you last.

He nearly drops the necklace on the floor, before regaining his composure.

You are not there.  You are simply gone without a trace.  Nothing is out of its place.  It’s as if you had never been there at all, like it had all been nothing but a dream.

Jim chuckles.  “Baby, it’s gonna take a LOT more than that to scare me.  Y/N, very funny.  VERY scary.”

There is no reply.  Merely echoes through an empty house.

This is when he realizes that it is not a game, not merely a cry for attention.  You really have gone.

He drops the necklace on the ground, and runs to the sliding glass doors leading out to the deck, the closest place you could have left from.

He runs out to the deck, knowing that at this point, you’re too far gone, knowing that he won’t find you if you don’t want to be found.

That’s the reason why he loves you so much.  He has never been with someone who wasn’t special.

You are the most special of them all, the most intriguing.

You are the girl who disappears.


It took you a while to brainstorm the best idea of how to scare Jim.

If there’s anything you’ve learned from being around him, it’s that nothing scares people more than what they love.  More specifically, nothing is more effective for fear than the thought of LOSING what you love.

There is nothing in this life that Jim truly loves.  You realized this when thinking of the easiest way to make him afraid.

But then you found one thing, the closest thing to a friend, to a love, that someone like Jim Moriarty ever has.

An enemy.

His greatest enemy.

As you secure the curly, brown wig on your head and land at the Heathrow airport, you realize that you can’t take away his greatest enemy.  That would be too cruel, to Jim and to the rest of the world.

But you sure as hell wouldn’t let Jim know that.

Your taxi is already idling on the tarmac, waiting for you to get off the plane.  You step off of the plane and right into the taxi.

“221B Baker Street, please.”  You say sweetly, handing the driver a 100 dollar bill pinched carelessly between your middle finger and your pointer finger.

“Right away, ma’am!”  The cabbie rushes away from the airport, leaving you to sit back and think about how you’re going to take care of Sherlock Holmes.

You know from experience that the key to distracting Sherlock is to flatter him.  Give him an opportunity to show off.

“Eh, I’ll figure it out when I get there,” you mutter.

“You sure will, miss.”  The cabbie smiles at you through the rearview mirror, perhaps trying to get you to tip him again.

Soon enough, you’re standing in front of 221B.

Now all you have to do is wait for Jim to show up.  You left him enough clues to find out what you’ve planned.

You open the door, climb up the stairs and knock on the door of the flat, hearing Sherlock’s bored voice saying, “Yes, all right, come in.”

You clear your throat and begin to play the part of a grieving wife, missing her husband.  At least until Jim comes.


Jim walks into the room that you had stayed in when you first came to him.

This is where he sees the note you left for him.

‘How will it feel to have everything you love taken away honey?’

Jim let the note flutter to the ground, mind racing.

It only takes him seconds to come to the conclusion he was supposed to.

He pulls open his cell phone and quickly dials a number.  “I’m going to need the plane to be ready in 10 minutes.  We’re going to Heathrow.”


Mrs. Hudson is screaming.

You wish that she would shut up.

I mean, old ladies had always liked you BEFORE.  Why did you always have to finally be frightening when you least wanted to be?

“Please be quiet, Mrs. Hudson, I’m just trying to prove a point to my boyfriend.  It’s not like I’m actually going to DO anything.”

John is lying unconscious on the floor, an unfortunate twist of fate that he had to be so invested in helping Sherlock.

Sherlock is bound to the chair in which his clients usually sit, and gagged too, since you can’t deal with another hour of his endless chatter.

How John LIVES with him, you’ll never know.

You are standing over him, pointing a loaded gun directly at Sherlock’s head.

He knows you, and he knows that if he or anyone else tries to do anything, you WILL shoot him, no bluffs, no tricks.  No faking death this time.

Suddenly, you hear a very loud knock, knock, and then a splintering of wood as Jim breaks his way into 221B.

The look in his eye is wild, shocked.

When he sees you standing over Sherlock with the gun, John unconscious, Mrs. Hudson sobbing in the corner, he stops advancing towards you, and begins to move very slowly, hands outstretched, pleading.

“Y/N.  Please.  You wouldn’t do this to me, please…” he licks his lips.  “I’m begging you.”

You give Jim a twisted grin, that you know makes you look like a complete and utter psychopath when taking in the scene around you.

“Are you scared, honey?  Am I… scaring you?”

Jim lets loose a single second of wild, uncontrolled laughter, before replying in utter seriousness, “You are terrifying me.”

You smile, and put the safety onto the gun, tossing it onto Sherlock’s armchair.

You throw your arms into the air, twirl, and give a bow for Jim.

This time, the both of you burst out laughing, startling and unearthly in the seriousness of your surroundings.

You walk over to him, and he drapes his arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

You lean over, kiss him, and rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you saunter out of the flat as if you had just popped over to answer an invitation for tea.

“I never knew you would do something so reckless. It’s sexy.”  He smiles into your hair, planting a kiss on your head.

“I like it.  I’m tired of being good, it’s just so… boring.”

There’s a silence as the two of you walk downstairs and emerge onto the bustling London sidewalk.

“What say you and me go to the city and rob the queen?”  He sings, spinning you around to face him.

“Would I get a crown?”  You muse thoughtfully.

He gives you a wicked smile in response.

“Jim Moriarty, it’s a date.”

Beauty & The Beast: Chapter One

The sweet scent of roses mingled with the crisp morning air as Beauty skipped down a narrow path around the sparkling lake. A slight breeze produced a few ripples on the surface of the water and caressed the young girl’s rosy cheeks.


The girl paused and turned around to face the dark gray mansion behind her. She grinned, then sprinted toward the handsome woman calling to her.

“You look quite refreshed, darling,” the woman laughed, brushing a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear.

“It is so beautiful this morning, mother! The birds have been singing to me for hours and the flowers are perfect for a bouquet,” Beauty rushed, her eyes twinkling. “Have you ever seen a morning more exquisite than this?”

“Exquisite? And which book did you learn that word from?” her mother asked in amusement.

“The book Father gave me before he left on his trip, An Exquisite Day in Paradise. It’s a murder mystery!”

Frowning, Beauty’s mother shook her head. “Why do you not read normal books about love, like your sisters do?”

Beauty wrinkled her nose. “Love is boring. Mysteries are exciting. Father says that romance books do not teach anything useful.”

“Speaking of your father, he just arrived and would like to see you.”

“He did?” Beauty squealed, her face flushing with excitement as she presented a handful of colorful wild flowers neatly arranged in her tiny hands. “May I take him these flowers?”


“Yes, mother?”


Beauty tilted her head and stared up at her mother. The former elegance of the woman began to fade as her face paled and she began to shake.

“Mother? Mother, what’s wrong?”

“Bea…uty…” her mother murmured quietly, then her body vanished into thin air.


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Two Worlds - Frederick Chilton

P/N: At last, I finally was able to come up with something for Chilton! Lately, I’ve been missing Chilton. I was waiting for inspiration to hit me. I hope you all enjoy!

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Imagine: Confronting Chilton about your recent feelings of insecurity.

When she first met Chilton, he had this commanding facade about him. His straight and stiff posture flashed of confidence from across the room. Maybe his confidence was even on the border of narcissism. From his neatly combed hair, to his impressively groomed beard, his attire was nothing short of prestige. His eyes were like the color of freshly printed bills, a reflection of his wealth. Despite the cane he heavily relied on, he made sure that there was nothing he lacked. Everything about him screamed that he was a very put together man, but it didn’t hide the aching desire to be validated underneath that pretentious mask.

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Stór // n.h

Originally posted by ninicutiepie

requested: yes ( Can you do a Niall Horan where Greg is looking after your baby and Theo accidentally hurts her/him xx If you cant it’s fine xx)

warnings: lots of fluff and lots of overwriting because i’m obnoxious and have to put in a backstory with everything and google translated gaelic for no reason other than i am a sap

I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope that you like it and thank you for requesting something and I hope you’re having a good day/night :)

p.s Maeve is a name I picked for one of Niall’s little one and I’m actually working on another domestic/dad!niall thing because I’ve always been better at writing domestic things than anything else and I hope that’s okay with everyone, also Maeve is around two or three here I think and I do believe toddler’s that age can talk enough to get their point across but I could be wrong also I don’t speak gaelic or irish, I just used google to help me with this and i’m sorry the ending isn’t better

Maeve was a fairly calm toddler.

From the time she’d been born, you expected her to be loud and overzealous much like her father and most of her family. But she was born quiet and through most of her two years of life, she remained quiet. She preferred to sit by herself and play with her toys and she had a close kinship with you and Niall. She was never clingy, but she preferred to stay close to her parents. You weren’t people who hated taking your baby places with you either. For most of her life, she went wherever you went. From the grocery store to fancy restaurants, to social events and golf matches. She was well behaved and even when she couldn’t have things her way, she would pout about them quietly instead of throwing a tantrum. Niall had planned a special day for your five year anniversary that involved you spending the day out together shopping around and a nice dinner that evening at one of your favorite restaurants and as much as you loved having Maeve with you, it was important that you both got to spend some time apart as a married couple and not just as parents with a baby.

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Tyler Joseph Imagine - Pt. 3

When Tyler wakes up the next morning, it’s not to the sound of an annoying alarm clock, like he’s used to.  Instead, it’s to the warm sun glowing through his shades, illuminating shadows on his bed.  The first thing he notices is how sore he was.  How did he spend eighteen years of his life sleeping in this lumpy bed?  He stretches out, still under the covers.  The second thing he notices is that Y/N’s gone.  He sits up, rubbing his eyes from hours of sleep, before looking around the room.  

He fumbles around, patting down various spots on his nightstand before finding his phone.  He clicks the home button, his lock screen popping up with that ridiculous picture she took of the two of them.  He stares at her.  Her lips are pressed against his flushed cheek. Tyler has to physically shake his head to get the grin off from his face.

After throwing on a sweatshirt, Tyler heads downstairs, curious about the delicious smell coming from the kitchen and curious as to where Y/N disappeared to.

He doesn’t stay curious for long.  The minute his feet his the hardwood floor and he turns the corner of the hallway, both his questions were answered.

His mother and Y/N were both in the kitchen, still in pajamas and pulling a giant pan of cinnamon rolls out from the oven.  Neither of them noticed Tyler lingering, so he just sat back for a moment and listened.

“These smell amazing,” Y/N says, gazing in awe at the pan.  “I can’t believe you make these from scratch.”

“The kids have loved them ever since they were little.  It became my own little tradition to get up extra early on Christmas Eve to make them.”

“So you roll the dough and then add the extra cinnamon?” she asks.

“That’s right—“ Tyler’s mom goes on to explain the process to her and Tyler crosses his arms, smiling.  

“You’ll have to write it down for me,” she says once his mom’s done speaking.  

“Oh absolutely, darling,” and Tyler can tell how much Y/N spending time with his mom meant to her.  She really was going the extra mile with all this.  

Tyler was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he’d be be in debt to her for practically the rest of his life when he decided to make his presence known.

“Morning,”he says, walking up to the counter and having a seat at one of the bar stools.

“Morning baby,” his mom says as she hangs up her oven mitt, “How’d you sleep?”

“Great,” he lies, ignoring the throbbing pain in his lower back.

“Don’t these look awesome?”  Y/N asks Tyler, still gawking at the giant pastries.

He smiles in awe at her, partly to further convince his mother of their love, but partly because he could tell how proud she was for helping and it was adorable.

Tyler nods, “They look incredible.”

“Well no eating them until your brothers and sister are up,” his mother instructs.  She unties the apron from around her waist.  “Which should be anytime.  I told them that they had to help around the house before everyone got here.”

Y/N’s head whipped around.  She stared at Tyler, tilting her head and widening her eyes.  Tyler froze.  He forgot to mention the party his family always threw on Christmas Eve.  There would be upwards of forty people crowded around his house by six o’clock, he never mentioned that minor detail to Y/N in the debriefing.  

“I’m going to go get cleaned up,” Y/N announces.  “Then I can help with setting up or cooking., whatever needs to be done,” she says sweetly.

She gives Tyler’s shoulder a light squeeze on her way by.  He wasn’t sure if that was to show affection in front of his mom or a cue for him to get his ass upstairs.  

He decided to play things on the safe side.  “I’m gonna go freshen up, too.”

He follows her up the stairs and into the bedroom where she shuts the door, locking him in.  The minute she crosses her arms, he knows he’s in for it.

“How could you forget to mention a fucking party?” she snaps.

“I don’t know—“ Tyler stammers, “It’s a tradition so it just slipped my mind.”

“You told me all kinds of your family’s traditions!” she gasps, “You even told me the order that everyone opens their stockings, for Christ’s sake!”

“I know- I’m sorry,” he says, meaning it.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and inhales sharply.

“So what’s the damage?  Like ten-fifteen relatives? Give or take?”

“More like forty-forty five,” Tyler says through gritted teeth.  He really does feel bad.  This was the kind of shit you should warn anyone about, but especially your fake-girlfriend.

Her jaw drops.  “Forty five people?”

He nods.

“Christ, how big is your fucking family?”

“Big,” he remarks.

She rolls her eyes before sighing, “Okay, well give me the scoop then.”

Tyler goes on to explain further dynamics of his extended family.  He tells her about his uncles and aunts, cousins, grandparents.  He explains that Josh and his family might pop in, and tells her a bit about each of them.

“Will it be suspicious that your best friend’s family have never heard of me?” she asks.

“I told Josh to bring you up in conversation beforehand, so hopefully they’ll buy it.”

She nods, looking impressed, “That was actually good thinking.  Maybe you are kinda good at this.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Next step will be finding a real girlfriend.  Then I won’t have to fake all of this.  God, I can’t wait for things to get back to normal,” he says, plopping down on his bed.  He buries his face in his hands.  “This is all so stressful… this pretending stuff.  I can’t wait until we’re in Chicago again, then we can go back to hating each other like usual.”

Y/N’s face falls then, her grin fading into a neutral look.  She suddenly tucks her hair behind her ears and coughs.  

“Right, well, I think I’m going to get changed up now.”

She scoots past Tyler and over to her suitcase, where she gathers a handful of clothes in her arms.  She doesn’t even look at him before running off to the bathroom, leaving Tyler alone.  

The rest of the day was spent preparing as much food as they could for the party. They made a fun time out of it, listening to Christmas music and drinking their way through several bottles of apple cider.  

Tyler was sure he was imagining it, but Y/N seemed especially avoidant of him since they talked in the bedroom.  She didn’t make it obvious.  At least no one else seemed to pick up on her distance.  But Tyler could feel it in the way she avoided eye contact with him and tried especially hard to acquaint herself with everyone besides him in his family.  

When the time finally came for guests to start arriving, Tyler scooted upstairs to change into his nicer clothes.  When he approached his bedroom, he noticed the door only cracked slightly open.  He didn’t notice Y/N take off to change, but assumed that’s what she was doing.  Tyler gently knocked on the door.

“You can come in,” she calls.

Tyler grips the handle and pushes the door open, he almost gasps out loud at the sight before him.  

Y/N is standing in front of his mirror, trying to hook on a necklace.  She’s got her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration, the light pink contrasting with the lipstick she’s wearing.  She tries with the necklace again, but she keeps letting the metal latch before it’s fastened.  Her dress is a deep red color and she’s done her hair up in these marvelous curls that Tyler’s never seen her with before.  He just stands there with his hand still on the door handle, staring, not able to close his gaping jaw.

“You look—“ he stammers, unable to find words.

“Can you help me?” she says in spite of his unfinished sentence.

He nods and walks over, taking the necklace from her.  She collects her thick hair to the side so that Tyler can clip the hook on the back.  He does it with ease, and once he let’s go, she’s able to move her hair back in place.

“You look incredible,” he finishes after gathering up enough courage.  

She smiles at him from the mirror, “Thanks.” Her response is short and he still senses a stand-offish tone to her voice.  

He clears his throat, deciding that now was a good time to address her attitude towards him.  

“Hey,” he starts, “I don’t know if I said something to upset you or did something… but whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

She smiles, her dimples becoming visible, “Don’t be sorry.  We hate each other, remember?”

Her tone is thick with sarcasm and Tyler squeezes his eyes shut, remembering his words from earlier in the day.  But why would that upset her so much?  It was true that they hated each other, wasn’t it?  She was always so short with him… she threw up on his shoes for Christ’s sake! Then he remembered the butterflies in his stomach when she kissed his cheek and the feeling of his skin growing hot whenever she would touch him.  He gave her another gaze, from head to toe and listened to the beat of his chest. Tyler blinks twice when he realizes that no, it probably wasn’t true anymore.

“I’m sorry about that—“ he stammers.  “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s fine,” she says as she pulls on her heels.  She adjusts one of her earrings before getting up and leaving the room without another word.  Tyler knows things are far from fine.

The first guest arrived just after six thirty.  It was his aunt and uncle from Toledo.  Once they rolled in, the rest seemed to come in flocks, until the house was full of bodies and chatter.  Y/N stuck close to Tyler, despite her clear annoyance with his presence.  It wouldn’t be authentic if she didn’t.  He introduced her to relatives like a normal couple would, but she didn’t really talk to him unless there were people around to impress.

Tyler couldn’t stop thinking about his sudden realization.  When did their feud turn into Tyler being speechless by her appearance?  Or being so fond when she talked?  He found himself on autopilot, giving the same speech to his family members in the same, monotonous tone.  His exterior was dull, but inside, he was screaming.  Because every time she would touch his shoulder, or grab his hand, Tyler felt like exploding into a million pieces.  He was in so deep and he didn’t even realize it.  

He actually sighed a breathe of relief when Josh showed up with Jordan.  He had never been happier to see his best friend.  

“Hey,” Josh smiles, walking right over to him, “The girls couldn’t make it- but they say ‘hello’.”

Tyler turned to introduce Y/N to Jordan, but he soon realizes that she’s not by his side any longer.  He looks around the house, gazing over the tops of people to try and get a sense of where she went.  He even stands on his tip-toes before spotting her red dress just before it turns around the corner of the spare dining room.  There was no party in there, so Tyler can’t help but feel suspicious of where she’s heading.

“I’ll be right back guys, okay?” Tyler says, patting Josh on the back before scooting after her.  He rushed through bodies, muttering apologizes to those he bumps a little too hard, before finally breaking free.

When he turns the corner, he hears Y/N’s hushed voice talking on the phone.

“No mom, you don’t want to do that… you’re just upset.  I know you don’t mean it, it’s okay… Nope, I’m away for a few days, remember?  Remember we talked about this last week when I visited?   No, it’s me mom.  It’s still me,” she sighs heavily, her voice breaking, “Just hang in there okay?  Maybe you could go sit in the rec room with everyone else… No, no, no— no one’s trying to kill you, mom.  You’re safe there… Well, I can’t come home right now.  But I’ll be home in a few days, and I promise I’ll come by to visit.  Okay?  Alright, I love you— bye.”

She hangs up the phone but stays staring at the wall for a moment.  Tyler feels like he should make his presence known, but isn’t sure how without jumping her.  He hears her take a deep breath in before sniffling loudly and he decided to clear his throat along with knocking on the wooden door frame.  

She turns around sharply, still clutching her phone to her chest.

“Oh—“ she says, “I didn’t know you were right there.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to sneak up on you.”

“How much of that did you hear?” she whispers.

He smiles empathetically, “All of it… I think.  I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I saw you rushed off and I wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

Tyler expects backlash.  Something about being disrespectful and having no boundaries.  Instead she let’s her head fall and she chuckles softly.

“That was my mom,” she explains.  “She’s in a hospital.”

He nods, taking a hesitant step forward.

“She uh- isn’t well.”

“I had no idea—“ he says.

That’s when he sees the tears glistening on her cheeks and sees her face break.  She wipes them away hastily but he can hear her choking on a silent cry.

“I’m sorry-“ she says, her voice thick.  “This is embarrassing.”

“No, no—“ Tyler says, walking forward and putting his arm around her.  She leans into him, still set on wiping away her tears.

“My mom was deemed clinically insane during my senior year of high school.  But she’s been hearing voices and threatening to hurt other people for years.  My dad just had her institutionalized.  He didn’t want to deal with her anymore.  He left.  Took my younger sisters with him.  But I stayed,” she looks up at Tyler, who’s still listening intently, “I couldn’t leave,” she explains.

He nods.

“She calls sometimes.  The nurses say I’m the only one who can calm her down when she gets like that. Sorry I made you leave the party.”

“I don’t know about you.. but I was getting real sick of that party anyway.  I have a better idea.”

He steps back and offers her his hand.  She looks at him, skepticism wild in her eyes, but she takes it anyway.  Tyler leads her to the back staircase of his house.

“Wait here,” he instructs.

She nods and Tyler runs off.

He doesn’t return until he’s successfully confiscated two full wine bottles from the kitchen.

Her eyes open wide and a huge grin spreads across her face when she sees.  

“I like where your mind’s at,” she laughs, taking one bottle before following Tyler up the stairs.  There’s a window in the upstairs living room that opened right out onto the roof.  Tyler used to climb out there to escape the madness sometimes as a kid.  He never brought anyone else out with him.  Not Zach.  Not Madison.  Not Jay.  Not even Josh.  No one.  He steps out onto the shingles before turning to help Y/N.  He takes the bottle from her hand so that she can steady herself.  She looks at him once she’s grounded and shakes her head.

“You’re absolutely mental.”

He laughs, nodding his head.  “I never said I wasn’t.”

The air is cold, but Tyler considers it lucky that there’s no snow on the roof yet.  The two of them sit, drinking wine straight from the bottle and just talk.

“This is where I found out I loved stars so much,” he says after taking another swig.  His bottle was marginally lighter than when they first got outside.  He noticed that the more he drank, the less cold he felt.  

She looks up at the sky, frowning at the overcast.

“No stars out here,” she pouts.  “At least we’ll see them tonight in your room.”

Tyler laughs, feeling the buzz of the alcohol take over.  

“Hey, listen,” he says, bracing himself for another apology, “I really want to apologize for what I said.  I don’t hate you,” he turns and looks her right in the eyes, marveling at the way they sparkled, “Not even close.”

She smiles, not breaking eye contact, before asking softly, “Tyler, what are we doing out here?”

“When we’re with family, making introductions or small talk, or whatever it is,  I can’t tell if it’s real  I didn’t want to share you with them anymore.”

She smiled from ear to ear, looking so adorable and  uncomfortable all at once.  So, Tyler did the only thing he could think of to ease his own embarrassment. He leaned forward and kissed her. Just a peck that somehow still caused Y/N to make an alarmed noise in the back of her throat and blink at Tyler when he pulled back. Tyler looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes, not necessarily feeling as coy as he was pretending to be, but it did the trick. Her mouth was back on his in a second- hot and wet and just a little bit rough.  Of course her kisses would be as all-consuming as the rest of her.

She lifted herself up and straddled Tyler’s lap for easier access to his mouth.  She tasted just as fresh and lovely as she always smelled, which was surrounding Tyler in the absolute best way. She made a slightly wounded noise as their tongues tangled together and Tyler couldn’t help but agree. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him, his heart thudding against his chest almost painfully.  

A voice in the back of Tyler’s head told him he needed to stop this before it get too far, but that voice could, quite frankly, go fuck itself. Eventually, it was Y/N pulling back for air.

“That… was unexpected,” She said once she caught her breath, her hands latched onto Tyler’s hips as if she was using him to ground herself.

“Was it really?” Tyler laughed, using his hands to brace himself on the shingles.  “I know I’ve been tip toeing around you this whole trip.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, shifting above Tyler, “This whole thing has been unexpected though, to be honest.”

Tyler pulled back a bit. “I know. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your holiday.”

“It’s not that,” she assured him, eyes tracking the movement of Tyler’s tongue as he licked at his lips.

“Your family is great,” she continued. “And I’m glad I’m not spending the holiday alone. I just-” She shook her head slightly, “You hated me.”

“I didn’t hated you,” Tyler tried to deny, but she just looked at him and raised one eyebrow. “Alright, so I kind of hated you.”

“I don’t blame you,” she admitted, tightening her grip on Tyler’s hips. “I was an ass the first time we met.  I didn’t expect to run into a handsome, put together guy when I stole your parking space.  You caught me off guard and I’d just come from visiting my mom, which is always tough. In some twisted way, I was trying to impress you, show you how tough and put together I was too. Which isn’t a good excuse, but it’s the only one I have.”

The fact that she had just been coming off of a bad day actually made a lot of sense.

“It’s okay,” Tyler said, running a gentle hand down her wrist. “You’ve proven to me this week that you aren’t that bad after all. In fact…” He leaned in like he was about to reveal a big secret. “I think I’m kind of starting to like you.”

As far as confessions of feelings went, it wasn’t the most romantic, but she seemed to think otherwise.

“Yeah?” She smiled and tilted her head like an adorably puppy.

“Yeah,” he repeated, leaning in to kiss her again.

It was a short, sweet kiss this time, but it still made Tyler mourn the past six months when he could have been kissing Y/N and wasn’t.

“I like you, too,” she said when they pulled apart. “I’ve had a crush on you since pretty much that first day I met you.”

“Wow,” Tyler said, speechless.  “All it took was two bottles of wine to get that one out in the open.”

She smiled incredibly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, or from being slightly tipsy, either way, it was adorable.  She leaned her head against Tyler’s chest and nuzzled into the crook of his arm, shaking her head.

“So what’s this all mean?” she asks into the fabric of his shirt.

He sighs, because honestly, he didn’t know.  

“How about—“ he says, thinking out loud, “When all of this is over, I take you out on a real date when we get home?”  

She pulls her face back from his chest and nods, “I’d like that.”

Tyler notices Y/N shaking after sitting outside for too long, and helps her to her feet.  When he collects the bottle of wine, he’s impressed to see that she drank nearly all of it.  He can tell, too, by the way she staggers to the window, almost falling nearly twice before they’re both safe and back inside.  

“Come on,” he says, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Shouldn’t we socialize at the party a bit more?” she asks.  

He nods, “Probably.”

“People are going to wonder where we’ve been.”

He nods again, “Definitely.”

She smiles and wipes his lips with her fingers. “The lipstick on your lips doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” she snickers.

Last Call

Harry Styles - 1860 words (smut)


My eyes cast over him when he walks in the room, momentarily forgetting my friends rambling in my right ear. Two years had passed of the mystery guy, who I knew was named Harry, started coming to our bar every Friday and Saturday to drink with his friends.

“Are you even listening to me?” I hear Ellen chime heartily, her pointy nail digging into the fleshy part of my arm, making a wince resonate from my lips. “Of course I am.”
I roll my eyes as I stand to my full height again, resuming to cleaning the bar counter top with the filthy rag I have been dragging around all night already.

“Harry is hot, isn’t he? I wonder how old he is. I’d do him.” Ellen sighs dreamily as both of us gaze, Harry greeting his mate Liam with a bright smile, cigarette dangling from his lips. “Went to high school with him, so around my age. And since when do you have a soft spot for bad boys?” I smirk, raising my eyebrows as I lean against the bar with an outstretched arm. Liam and Louis, I knew, were a year or maybe even two higher than me. Harry, I never knew. He always hung out with Liam and Louis and their clique but if I recall my memories right, he was only one year older than me.

I see Ellen’s cheeks flush immediately, his hands fumbling with the bottles some of the guys in the far back have ordered. “Which girl doesn’t? Have you seen him?”
“Calm your ovaries, Jo. You have a boyfriend.” I breathe out something that resembles a gasp mixed with laughter, grabbing the bottle of beer out of my colleague’s hands and swiftly pop it, setting it back onto the tray, granting Ellen a large grin.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy some good eye candy.” Ellen punches me in the arm again, picking up the tray and skipping happily over to the table of customers. Ellen was a very, let’s say, bubbly person and her boyfriend was one of the most caring, kind men I had ever met in my entire life. They suited one another but I understand that sometimes you will miss the excitement of a bad boy.
“Ahum.” I want to roll my eyes again at the obnoxious tone the guy behind me seems to be sporting, but refrain from it as I wipe my hands and slowly turn around to face the guy.
“Can I help you?”

When I turn I’m met with the bright green eyes of none other than Harry. I can feel myself blink hysterically for a few times. “What?” Oh great, now I hadn’t even heard what he had asked me. To always state I was immune to boys and their charm, I had quite the setback just now.
“Can you fix me up with a few beers, darling?” Harry smirks as he chuckles, watching me try to gather my thoughts as I pop the beers he asked for.

“Anything else I can do for you?” I sweetly state as I let my gaze wander over his upper body, taking his money from his outstretched hand. I am certain he is toned underneath that white shirt which is normally covered by his leather jacket. I refrain from licking my lips and hand him his change.
“Are you busy tonight at last call?” Harry’s voice sounds hopeful, his eyes wandering over my cleavage before our gazes meet and he throws a smirk my way.

“Depends. Are you?” I reciprocate his smirk. He seems taken aback but a genuine smile makes its way onto his lips as he takes the beers in his hands. “I’ll see you at last call then, y/n.”


I am nervously fumbling with the apron I was wearing as I hear Ellen call out it was the last drink of the night. Liam and Louis, Harry’s friends, stand to their feet and I stare at the threesome, saying goodbye to one another. Harry laughs loudly at something Louis says as he claps Harry in the shoulder. He follows Liam out of the bar, but not before shooting me a wink.

“So.. One beer.” Harry smirks as he lets himself fall down onto one of the bar stools right in front of me, his fingers fumbling with the lighter to light his cigarette. He even looks good while smoking, which I wouldn’t even think be possible. I bend down for his bottle and Ellen makes a noise, resonating from the back of her throat. My eyes flash over to her and she gives me a panicked yet overexcited grin, eyes motioning to the man in front of me.

I wink and hand Harry his beer, leaning against the counter top. “So tell me y/n, do you always spend your last call with a random guy?”
“Only when their pickup line is cheesy enough.” I grin, my fingers curling around his bottle as I bring it to my lips.

“Did you just steal my beer? It looks like the one I was having.” Harry laughs and I swallow a mouthful of beer, trying to keep my laughter in so I wouldn’t spurt my beer all over the counter.
“You’re delusional. You had no beer.” This draws a loud, joyful chuckle out from the back of his throat. “Want to get out of here?”

My eyes wander to Ellen who grants me with a thumbs up while I already am untying the knot of my apron. Harry raises to his feet and slips his leather jacket back over his shoulders, waiting for me to stop besides him.
“Technically, you owe me a beer.” Harry grins as he throws open the front door of the now closed bar, waiting for me to step through before following me. “Oh, I have something better planned.”
Harry’s fingers brush over exposed parts of my body throughout the entire ride to his flat, riling me up to the point where I would fuck his leg if he’d let me. We’re quiet as we climb his stairs, my eyes glued to his curved ass. My fingers are toying with the necklace I am wearing absentmindedly, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth.

I am not sure what we’re supposed to be doing but my own thoughts have been riling me up so badly I can feel the wetness pool in my knickers. Harry stops in front of a door, fumbling with a key, shooting me a grin as he pushes himself inside.

As soon as I let the door click closed behind me, I am roughly pressed against the door, a moan immediately escaping my lips at the impact. Harry groans at my vocalism and presses his lips against my jaw, teeth scraping over the soft flesh there while I feel him exhale harshly.
“Harry..” I breathe, writhing against him in hopes  I would gain just the tiniest fleck of friction from him. He grunts and out lips meet, feverishly and passionate fighting for dominance. He presses me further into the door and I gasp, giving him the access to let his tongue wander around the crevices of my mouth.

One of his hands is cupping my jaw while the other lightly trails over the curve of my bottom, down to my thigh where he cups the flesh to lift my leg to the height of his hips, pressing his core against mine in a mind blowing way. My hips have a mind of their own as they roll against Harry’s jeans, feeling his hardened cock brush teasingly against my folds.

“Y/n, we’ve been staring at one another for too long.” My eyes dart open and widen at his statement, sighing as his hand cups my left breast to give it a squeeze.
“How did you know?”

“You’re obvious, y/n. But I’m not just talking about you. In high school, I’d stare at the swaying of your hips in the hallway or how the sweat would trickle into your cleavage after running at gym.. To your swiveling hips when you enjoy a song at the bar. You radiate sex.”

His lips trail every exposed bit of skin and I moan loudly, whimpering his name and almost begging him to fuck me senseless.
“I can’t wait to fuck you into the morning.” He groans before his teeth sink into my neck and a loud hiss escapes my lips, hips bucking uncoordinated against his straining cock.

“Please Harry, please.” My head his thrown back against the battered up wood, my nails digging into his shoulders as I cling to him for dear life. I let my flattened out hands trail over his pecks, licking my lips before I push his leather jacket to the ground. Harry’s fingers are busy with unbuttoning the buttons of my black shirt, my own hands pushing the white shirt up on his body, throwing it to the floor seconds after.

My bra follows my shirt on the floor shortly after, but I can’t comprehend those actions as Harry cups my core roughly, sending a shiver of ecstasy down my spine. Harry drops to his knees to rid me of my jeans and knickers, slowly rising back up, the top if his tongue trailing along my goose flesh covered body, shivering from anticipation.

As soon as our lips meet again I’m fumbling with the buckle of his belt, trying to rid him if the article as soon as possible. I can hear Harry breathe out a chuckle against the shell of my ear as he assists me, pushing his jeans and boxers low enough to expose his throbbing cock to me.

Both of Harry’s hands cup my ass roughly as he hoists me up, his cock slipping against my wet folds while he pushes me roughly against the door again, groans of satisfaction leaving my lips. “Harry, please fuck me.” I let my teeth sink into his bottom lip, pulling it before letting it snap back into place.

Harry lines himself up with my entrance and roughly pushes inside, whimpers leaving my lips as he fucks me against the front door, his name leaves my lips in a chant of melodies, begging him to go faster, harder, rougher.

“Fuck y/n. So vocal.” I can only grunt in response as he rapidly fucks me towards my orgasm, legs trembling against his hips. My fingertips dig into his naked shoulder blades, my loud moans being swallowed by Harry’s lips pressing against mine.

It doesn’t take long before Harry splutters inside me, stilling as his harsh breathing warms my neck, his lips pressing against the scorching skin, tongue darting out to cool me off.
I am still pressed against the door, my limp body being held up by Harry’s strong arms.
“We didn’t even make it to the bedroom.” I giggle into the thick, sex filled air as I hear him chuckle.

“I promised myself when us get the chance I’d fuck you all night. Hope you’re not tired.” Harry groans against the skin of my neck before a chuckle leaves his lips and he carries me off towards his bedroom.

Lots of love,
L. xox

Deep Desires (Elriel fic)!NFSW!

All characters belong to Sarah J Maas @sjmaas, author of the “A Court of Thorns and Roses” series.

Thank you for the support, Stef @autumn03! Without you this fic wouldn’t be here!

Summary: Tipsy Elain has mischievous plans for Valentine’s day.

Elain’s pov

It was Valentine’s day. I knew Azriel was up to something. He was out of our house the whole day. I didn’t know what to do. I watered the flowers in our garden, made cupcakes, did the laundry… So I just went outside and bought something from the nearby restaurant for dinner. This particular place was known for its delicious food in entire Velaris. After that, I got a bath and relaxed for a couple of hours. I wanted to be perfect for him. He was away so frequently that I have forgotten his scent. I used the lotion he’d bought me and it smelled like vanilla with caramel (my favourite). I put on one of his shirts and read a book for a while.

Before the sun set, I’d prepared the table and the food I bought earlier, and made myself comfortable on one of the chairs. I wasn’t wearing anything under the white shirt and was sure he would be surprised by that. Most of the time I was too insecure to seduce him but after two glasses of wine, I didn’t care. After the third glass I heard him coming in and closing the door. I would never forget the expression on his face when he saw me. Pure shock appeared in his hazel eyes. All the shadows around him vanished. I had flushed because of the alcohol and two buttons of the shirt were unbuttoned, apparently  revealing too much skin for him. He was holding two big shopping bags in his hands. Both plain black.  He dropped them on the floor and started to walk towards me. Slowly. Very slowly. His wings were folded tightly and his shiny hair disheveled. I watched him without blinking, sure the lust was obvious on my face.

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