Summary: The whole “you see color when you touch your soulmate” deal. It’s fluff (and smut. There’s some in there).
A/N: Thank you thank you thank you for reading. You’re all too cool for me.
At least it was Friday.
You just had to get through a day of work, then you could come home and binge-watch
Netflix. The entry level job you had been
given was not challenging, and you spent a majority of your time reading or
listening to music. Though it was tedious
it paid well, and you couldn’t complain about being able to make rent for
“Your shirt and pants don’t match.”
You sighed. Your
cubicle-mate had recently met her soulmate, and every day for the past week she
had criticized your choice of outfit.
“I’m booooorrrreeeddd.” Jay whined as he sat in Auradon Prep’s brand new rec room for the student’s enjoyment.
As soon as Carlos and he heard they were making one, they were jumping up and down excited like little kids charged up on four pounds of sweets.
Mal rolled her eyes at her friend’s childish whines, “Jay they literally just opened it three hours ago. How can you already be bored?”
“Carlos and me already played most of the games plus a lot of the games in here are ones we didn’t have back on the Isle and we don’t know how to play them so I’ll say it once again, I’m booooorrrreeeddd.” Jay slouched down on the couch, adding to his dramatics while Mal just shook her head amusingly watching him.
“This rec room is pretty cool. I never in a million years thought Fairy Godmother would agree to letting us put one in the school.” Doug said as he was playing a round of pool with Chad.
“Yeah. Thanks again Ben for setting this up.” Jane said while playing Air Hockey with Lonnie.
“Oh no problem. I thought the school could use a bit more fun.”
“HAHA! I WIN! IN YOUR FACE DOUG! If only Audrey had seen it.” Chad said doing his little victory dance.
“Chad, you do know you’re supposed to knock in all your balls before you knock in the eight ball right?” He said.
“What? I thought you were supposed to use the colored balls to knock in the eight ball?” Chad asked, his moment of glory turning sour.
“No, if you knock in the eight ball before you knock in all your balls, you automatically lose. Which means I win!” Doug, in turn, started to do his own little dance which pissed Chad off cause he was one of the biggest sore losers in the world.
“Whatever. This game is stupid anyway.” He said placing his stick back onto the table, walking over and joining Jay and Mal on the couch.
Shortly after, Lonnie and Jane finished their game of hockey, Lonnie coming out the victor. The AKs and VKs all sat down in the little lounge area that was placed in the room with an entertainment system equipped with all the game consoles you could think of and every accessory that went with them.
“So what do you guys wanna do now?” Evie asked as everyone just looked around not knowing what to do.
“I don’t know. We could try playing one of the games on these consoles.
“Nooooo! I wanna play something new that I haven’t played before. I already played most of those games on the consoles in my room.” Jay said.
“Fine! What about a board game?” Mal suggested.
“Snooze.” Jay said, adding some snoring for effect which made everyone laugh while Mal just hit him upside the head with a pillow.
“Hey! Watch it, sister.”
“So what are we gonna do?” Uma asked getting bored herself.
“We could play Uno.” Ben suggested.
All the AKs agreed with excited looks, while the VKs just sat there more lost than the Lost Boys.
“Um, what’s Uno?” Carlos asked.
“What? You’ve never played before?” Lonnie asked in shock.
“Nope, what is it?” Evie asked.
‘It’s a card game.” Doug explained.
“Oh, how do you play?”
The AKs explained the rules to them. Mal, Evie, Uma, and Dizzy understanding while Jay, Carlos, and Harry, had to make sure Gil stayed caught up and understood.
Ben reached back into a trunk behind the couch and grabbed four stacks of cards since so many of them were playing. He handed them over to Lonnie after taking them out the boxes so she could shuffle and deal.
“Alright, let’s play.” Ben said once everyone had seven cards and was sitting around the table.
*Twenty Minutes later*
“I’ll curse you bitch…” Mal said glaring directly at Lonnie as she once again placed another ‘Draw Four’ on her.
Lonnie smirked in smug as she watched Mal draw fours cards.
“Mal! Language!” Ben scolded her.
“Oh suck a nut! Will someone reverse it please!” Mal shouted for the nineteenth time.
“Jay, stop looking at my cards.”
“Don’t change the color to red! He’s got three of them!” Jay shouted, his urge to win clouding his mind.
“Shut it!” Carlos said slamming his free hand over Jay’s mouth.
“Hah! The color is green! You ain’t getting out yet princess!” Uma laughed placing down a wild card.
Evie jumped out of her chair, launching herself over the table ready to stick those cards down her throat but Doug got a hold of her before she could with the help of Gil cause that girl was strong as hell.
Reaching to draw a card since she didn’t have any yellows, Dizzy was happy when she saw she got a Draw Four.
“Hehe, it’s on now.” Drizzy laughed.
“What? Do you have a reverse? TELL ME!” Mal said with a crazed look in her eye as Lonnie laughed at her desperation.
“No, but remember when you knocked that stuff over in the shop back on the Isle Harry giving me more sweeping to do? It’s payback time hook boy.” Dizzy laughed with an evil glint in her eyes.
Carlos finally managing to hide his cards at an angle where Jay couldn’t see placing a ‘Reverse’ down making Mal scream for joy.
“It’s on now bitch.” She said glaring back down at Lonnie.
“Bring it pixie!” Lonnie said. That girl was super competitive and this game brought out the worst in it.
“Hey, I almost got Uno!” Carlos said seeing he only had two cards.
“Oh I don’t think so pup.” Harry said placing down a ‘Draw Two’.
“I’ll put that hook between your eyes, you pervy pirate!”
“Ooo feisty! I love it.” Harry said, barking at Carlos the same way he did when they came back to Isle adding his signature grin.
Uma drew a card, before smacking it down on the table.
“THE COLOR IS RED!” She said, dancing in her seat cause she was about to take these losers down.
“YES!” Carlos said while Jay just grabbed his head and placed it in a head lock. Harry took the chance to peep at Carlos cards…
And his butt.
When it got back to Mal, she realized she finally was down to two cards and she was in luck because they were both reds.
As soon as it got to her, she smacked it down to the table, “UNO!” She shouted.
Everybody groaned at the fact that Mal would be out first, that is until Jay placed a card down with the same number, changing the color from red to blue.
“You’re all getting cursed.” She said before mumbling under her mouth. Ben stood up to try and stop her, Uma challenging Evie and throwing a comment in about how she rocked blue better than her.
Evie launched herself across the table again, Doug and Gil trying to hold her back while Dizzy decided to stomp on Harry’s foot.
“Ow! What did you do that for?” Harry said.
“THAT’S FOR MAKING ME SWEEP!” She said before jumping on top of him, smudging his eyeliner.
Jay and Carlos somehow ended up on top of the table with Evie wrestling over a ‘Draw Four’ that fell on the floor.
Lonnie was busy checking everyone’s cards, switching the good ones out of their decks with her deck.
Jane just watched from her seats, not knowing what to do in this situation.
Chad was just trying to make sure he didn’t get caught in the crossfire cause well his hair! It took three hours for it to get that natural bounce and body.
As all this was going on, no one noticed Fairy Godmother walk in two minutes ago watching the chaos unfold.
Clearing her throat, everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Evie froze trying to get to Uma, Jay stopped holding Carlos head locked in his arm.
Dizzy lets go of Harry and Mal cut off her curse.
No one moved an inch.
She may have a high pitched squeaky voice, but would you want to be on the end of her ‘mean voice’.
“What is going on here?”
Everyone looked around at each other, deciding what to tell her when Mal surprisingly spoke up.
“Would you believe us if we told you we were playing Uno?”
// harry finds a purse at the club he works at and realizes he has a lot in common with the girl
“You should just look inside,” some worker named Cody says to Harry. He and a few of his co-workers sit at the bar contemplating what to do with the bag Harry has found in the club. It wasn’t at all small, so Harry wasn’t sure how someone could forget something so important. Harry felt uncomfortable opening the bag because that’s invasion of privacy, right? But also, if he looked inside, he’d probably be able to find out who it belongs to. A lot of girls that go to the club Harry works at are regulars. They mostly just go to flirt or look at Harry, but he’s too oblivious to even notice. “It’s not a big deal if you open the bag, Harry.” Jordan, the older (and by older Harry means, like 35) bartender says, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “We open girls bags all the time. Mostly just lipstick and tampons in them, though. Nothing too interesting,” he continues.
Harry shrugs and unzips the black purse. The first thing Harry finds is a phone, of course. Curious, he presses the home button and sees many notifications. A few Snapchats, a couple texts, and many Instagram notifications. Harry clears the notifications because he wants to see the lock screen. He read somewhere that you can tell a lot about a person from their lock screen. It’s a young girl in the ocean. Her legs are on either side of a surfboard and her hair partially covers her smile. The color of the water is a light blue and it reminds Harry of Jamaica. He and his family recently went on vacation there and everyday he wishes he could go back. Everything was so zen there- unlike his job. “Harry do this,” and “Harry do that,” the poor guy never gets a break.
Anyways, the next thing Harry finds is a tampon, just like Jordan had said. Harry places it back in the bag. Okay, let’s see what else there is- a coupon for the Mexican restaurant down the street (Harry thinks they have great tacos), a pack of fruit snacks, gum, Band-Aids, a Tide To-Go stick, a wallet and a little notebook. She must be pretty clumsy and messy, Harry decides. He also concludes that this girl comes prepared, even for the club. He places everything back in the purse except for the notebook, wallet and the phone. It continues to light up, mostly with Instagram notifications. She also receives many text messages, all along the lines of how much they love her tattoo. One in particular stands out to Harry.
imessage from Isla
Omg!! Y/n I love the anchor tattoo!! It’s sooooo you. Did you get it in Jamaica???
Okay so, not only was that picture of this y/n girl most likely in Jamaica, but now Harry knows her name and that she has an anchor tattoo. Harry has an anchor tattoo. Harry has been to Jamaica. Harry likes the Mexican restaurant down the street. What else do these two have in common? Being even more curious, he decided to take a peek into her wallet. For starters, Harry thinks she’s the only person who looks good in their drivers license and decides she is the most photogenic person he has ever seen. The card sticking out of the wallet turns out to be a membership card for the same gym Harry goes to and wonders why hasn’t he seen this girl there before. He certainly wouldn’t forget her…
“Styles,” Jordan calls. “We’re locking up, get your ass out of here.”
Harry nods and grabs y/n’s purse from the counter. Surely, he could take it home since he’ll be the first one to arrive at the club tomorrow. He hopes y/n will get there first thing in the morning when he’s the only one there doing inventory. Once harry gets home, he continues to look through y/n’s things… not in a creepy way though, more like in a ‘I want to get to know this girl better’ kind of way. He didn’t want to try putting in y/n’s password so he leaves her phone on his counter and silences it because this girl gets way too many notifications for his liking. He opens her little yellow moleskine notebook and sees little doodles scattering the pages. Harry likes the cactus she drew in the corner of the page. Alongside it are some lyrics to a song that Harry isn’t sure he’s heard before, at least he thinks they’re lyrics. Whatever it is, it’s written in the most beautiful cursive writing he has ever seen.
‘pacin’ through the, the back of my mind / maybe you’ve been a storm all this time’
Harry wonders if y/n has written this herself or if they’re simply lyrics that she likes. He flips through more of the pages and a lot of them just have her grocery or to-do list. He notices that every grocery list has fruit snacks on it. How weird is it that someone who is old enough to get into a club still eats fruit snacks? Oh, who is Harry kidding? He still loves Haribo gummy bears, so he can’t judge this girl too hard for loving fruit snacks. Harry thinks he’s crazy as he begins to feel like he has a bit of a crush on the owner of this purse. He doesn’t know this girl at all, yet he still feels like he knows everything about her. He thinks they’d be good friends, though. Putting his ridiculous feelings aside, Harry wonders how worried y/n must be if she has realized she doesn’t have any of her belongings. (She hasn’t though, she passed out on her bed the minute she got home). He wishes there was something more he could do, but there really isn’t anything he can do other than bring it to work tomorrow.
Y/n has indeed not noticed that all of her belongings are not in her possession. It had been a while since y/n had been clubbing because all of her friends decided she was becoming too much of a “mom” friends so they took her out. After a few too many drinks, and a little much bump and grind, y/n lost her bag sometime during the night. She of course, was too wasted to notice. What a joy it will be to deal with her when she wakes up…
[authors note• i love this concept so thank you again @shaniaalexisss for requesting it! i 1000% see harry working at a club in all black and girls would just stare at his thighs in those black skinny jeans uggghhhhh. okay anyways part two will hopefully be up this weekend]
summary: bucky came out of cryostasis after just a few months. with the help of steve, he’s trying to piece the fractions of his mind back together. while flipping through old HYDRA files, he remembers something from his days as the winter soldier: you.
pairing: bucky x reader (sort of?? it’s complicated)
series contains: angsty angst, sadness, bucky reliving memories as the Winter Soldier, violence, people die a lot, bucky trying to cope, really awful translations of German, Russian, and Romanian (thanks to google translate i apologize in advance)
a/n: so like all my followers know what a pain in my ASS this fic has been. started off as a one-shot based off the song “house on a hill” by the pretty reckless, and has slowly mutated into a freaking series. this part is in bucky’s POV, but after this the rest of the series (save for one other part) will be in the “reader’s” perspective. there’s a lot of flashbacks in this fic, which is a new kind of thing for me. all flashbacks are written in italics and put in blockquotes. this fic is something new for me, so if you could leave me messages letting me know what you think i would be eternally grateful! also, if you like this fic, please check out my master list.
Bucky flipped through the files, trying to ignore Steve’s gaze weighing on him. Most of the folders were thin. There was maybe a page or two of mostly useless information. Possible aliases, possible contacts, and activities. It was all varied, and its accuracy debatable. There was only one thing each file had in common – every file, every person, was a HYDRA associate.
He tossed a file onto the table, his gaze lifting enough to unsurprisingly find Steve’s glacier blues focused on his face. Bucky held the look for a brief moment before he dropped his eyes and opened up the new folder. “I’m fine, Steve.”
I’m fine. I’m fine. After three months, the phrase felt almost like bile in his throat whenever he said the words. A simple expression that has transfigured into something pale and flat from overuse. Bucky had said it when he came out of cryo three months ago, when Wakandan scientists thought they had found a way to negate whatever HYDRA had put in him, only to have the experiment fall through. He said it again when his future was discussed, now that he was thawed and still a ticking time bomb. The possibility of going back into cryo was discussed, but Bucky refused because he was fine. And the relief he saw in his best friend’s face at the refusal was Bucky’s main argument every day since that he made the right decision.
Embracetheapocalpysewithme Writing Challenge - One Shot
Negan x Reader
[Prompt: Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode]
A/N: Hey guys! So this is my piece for the lovely @embracetheapocalypsewithme writing challenge! The prompt just so happens to be one of my favorite songs haha I usually turn to music for inspiration so this was so much fun to write! I hope you guys like it! **It is mainly angsty, lol the premise is that one of Negan’s wives accidentally tells him she loves him xx
Those words registered clearly in his mind, sinking deep into his chest causing the low thump of his heartbeat to stop completely. He knitted his brows together, looking up at you to see the anxiety written all over your face.
Negan always questioned how he felt about you, and he thought hearing you say those words would mean the world to him but instead everything came crashing down the moment they escaped your lips. No matter how many times he tried to push you away, nothing ever seemed to work. A magnetic pull drew him in, and he simply couldn’t break free from this spell that you seemed to have cast. The feelings you both shared were intense, and had a way of making him think that you were all he wanted, all he needed…
I’ve also posted this to my tumblr if you don’t mind, this is after Lance’s fall
WARNING THIS FIC CONTAINS GRAPHIC SCENES OF TORTURE
(it’s nothing too descriptive though)
Lance groaned in agony at the pain that coursed through him. His head throbbed and opening his eyes made things worse as his vision tilted and swam every which way. He attempted to move his body and found he couldn’t,
Not even a twitch.
Lance’s eyes flew open and he resisted the urge to vomit at the action. Panic overtook him as he attempted to move again and found he couldn’t he couldn’t. He found that eh could move his arms slightly but doing so with his right arm sent a jolt of agony up it and made his vision grow white briefly.
‘I can’t move, why can’t I move?!′
Lance then remembered that he had been fighting Keith and the stinging pain from the cut across his face became more apparent.
‘we were fighting and then-’
Keith had let him fall, and as Lance had finally hit the bottom, he remembers the cracking sound before passing out.
‘Oh god- my, my spine. Please don’t let it be my sine’
If it was his spine he was screwed,he would never move again. At least not his legs.
Footsteps clicked across the floor and Lance did his best to turn his head towards the source. He couldn’t look up at the whomever approached him but the boots were Galra armor.
“Oh my sweet little Blue what happened”
Lance winced as the Galra rushed over to him and at the sickening cooing tone of their voice.
Even as Lance was likely dying Lotor was still taking every opportunity to “woo” him.
Lance could vaguely feel the upper part of his body being lifted, but upon looking down saw that his entire body had been lifted off the floor.
So it really was his spine.
He couldn’t feel anything below his waist. His upper body didn’t fair much better, while he could still feel it and could move his arms, it was only a slight feeling. A twitch was the most he could manage. He wouldn’t be able to walk ever again. And he likely wouldn’t be able to use his arms again either, at least not to their full extent, if at all.
“Your former teammates have fled, they did quite the amount of damage. In more ways than one”
Lance tried not to shudder. He didn’t have to look at Lotor to feel that hungry gaze raking over his body. Lotor walked down the hallways taking several turns before stopping at a place Lance had come to know to avoid.
Haggar’s personal little workshop.
Most aliens that went in here did not come back in one piece.
If they came back at all.
Lance was walked in an placed on Haggar’s table. He was internally panicking and tried his best not to show it. He was in a bad position. He was severely injured and unable to move and was about to be at the mercy of the demented witch.
Speak of the devil Haggar was now in the room.
It always bothered Lance how she could move so silently, it meant that if she wanted to kill you,
you’d likely never hear her coming.
Haggar grinned at him and he visibly winced at the smile, which only made it grow wider.
“Do what you have to”
Haggar laughed at Lotor’s command and Lance winced once again as she turned to him, the smile on her face more sadistic than before.
“As you wish my prince”
Lance has been in pain before.
He’s experienced it a lot actually.
He’s been badly burned, had his front teeth knocked out by a baseball, gotten into rough and tumble situations with his sibling resulting in bruises and bloody noses.
He’s suffered broken bones more than once, even had to have one reset. And when you reset bones they can’t put you under. You have to be awake so they know they set it right. He was given medicine to forget though, so I guess he could be grateful for that. Lance has even had stitches.
But none of that could prepare for what came next in Haggar’s “care.”
The next months are tormenting and anguish unlike anything he’s ever known.
None of the injuries he’s ever had could ever compare to this. What was left of his right arm had been removed, and not with any sort of care. Not like Lance was expecting bed side manner from Haggar mind you.
But the spine was the worst. Lance was strapped to the table to ensure he wouldn’t move with his back facing up. Haggar then began to cut into his skin down his spine. Lance bit his cheek to keep himself from crying out as she then separated his skin and spread i out, sticking something like needles into his back to keep the skin open. She continued this process with the muscle and everything else until she finally reached the bone.
Lance wished he couldn’t feel this. He thought he shouldn’t be able to, but then again he wasn’t really sure how anatomy worked. For all he knew Haggar was using her magic so he would feel all of this.
She didn’t trust him, he knew that.
It was one of the reasons he avoided her, The other’s being he found her disturbing.
Honestly Lance was slightly afraid of her.
A sharp stab of pain drew him out of his thoughts and he let a wheeze of pain.
He heard a clack as something dropped into the bowl like object next to him. As he looked over another pain and another object dropped into it again.
It was bone.
Haggar was removing his spine. granted it was useless as it was but the very thought of it be taken out of his body like this instilled terror in him. He jerked and thrashed only to feel the familiar burning of quintessence magic from his spars with the druids wash over his body.
“Be still! Endure it. When I am finished with you, you will regain your ability to walk, and so much more.”
Lane whimpered at the statement as Haggar continued to dig around in his back and removing his spine. He could feel the tolls she was using scrape around and cut the spine from the flesh holding it there. He could feel her claws digging around in his back.
She was enjoying this, causing him pain like this.
Haggar much like Lotor was sadistic. But her sadism stemmed from whatever her goals were. Lotor’s was mindless and random, a form of entertainment whenever he grew bored or a result of his explosive and short temper.
Haggar seemed to have finished removing his spine as she began to move around ridding herself of tools and having a druid rid of his spine in the bowl.
Another druid came into the corner of his vision and handed something to Haggar, he couldn’t make it out from this angle. When Haggar once again approached him he could make out what was in her hands. IT was a metal spine, a prosthetic. She was going to stick that in his back. With the magic holding him down all Lance could do was bite back the scared whine.
Haggar moved towards his back and out his vision again and Lance jolted slightly as she began to force the spine into his back, He felt her move it around as she began to attach the spine to the bone of his neck and his tail bone.
Lance couldn’t hold back the scream of pain at what happened next. He could feel the prosthetic as though it were his actual spine and could feel it burning as if it was on fire from Haggar’s quintessence running though it.
“This will allow the prosthetic to take the place of your spine. This will allow it to actually function.”
Haggar’s words ran dully though his head as his vision contorted and darkened and finally he passed out.
When Lance awoke again he was no longer held down by quintessence. He was also now facing upwards. Lance was first aware of the devastating pain his back was in. The next thing he was aware of is the remainder of his right arm being stretched away from his body by a pair of hands, before being strapped down.
The pain then started fully awaking Lance from his stupor. It was Haggar again and she was attaching something to where his right arm once was. He felt it latch in place finally as another piece of it was slipped under his back and winced as it dug into his shoulder blade finally clicking into place.
“Awake I see, well not for long.” Haggar’s hand sparked with her quintessence as placed it on his head. “Rest now, there is much for us to do when you awake again”
Lance felt the magic pulse into his head and a fog settled in his mind his thoughts growing heavier as was forced into sleep.
When Lance awoke again the pain had subsided to a dull throb, and it was a while before his mind cleared enough for him to think coherently. He examined his surroundings and found himself in his room.
Or well what Lotor had given to him, it really wasn’t his room, this was only temporary after all.
As Lance set up a sharp stab went up his spine and right arm, and Lance doubled over as his i went white. He was aware he was retching from the sounds he could hear, but luckily he had nothing on his stomach from the “surgery” being done however long ago it was.
Quite some time actually given the empty feeling in Lance’s stomach. When color came back to him and everything became clear again Lance forced himself to his feet, ignoring the smaller pricks of pain that he felt when he did so. Lance stumbled over to the mirror and collapsed against the dresser.
He breathed slowly trying to steady himself as the room had begun to spin again. When the incessant throbbing in his head had finally died down he looked up into the mirror.
Lance’s breath hitched in his throat. He knew his right arm would be gone, He just didn’t think it would be all of it. The prosthetic went all the way up to his shoulder, and when he shifted it he could feel that it covered his shoulder blade as well. Lance touched the cold Galra prosthetic and winced at the thought of how much damage must have been done that the whole thing had to be cut off.
Lance swallowed the lump in his throat as he slowly turned around to get a look at his spine. He trembled at the sight of his back, covered in criss cross sections of scars all around his spine. Almost all of the skin that had been over the spine was gone, only a small amount remaining around the edges of it. Metal coldly glinted back at him as if grinning a sadistic smile. The shiny grey substance ran all the way up to his neck and stopped at his hairline.
Lance couldn’t keep himself up anymore as his legs gave out beneath him. He dug his hand s into the ground, the prosthetic ripping up some of the carpet as his arms shook.
Finally Lance let out the scream of anguish, anger, pain and utter betrayal he had felt from the moment this hell started.
Summary: Bucky meets someone he had grown close to while he was in Romania. Meeting her isn’t the only surprise he encounters. There is another small surprise.
A/N: Just something I wrote one day when I felt like nothing else motivated me. I decided to save this until I had posted all the requests I ha left. Now, no more requests (except I’m going to continue Buddies), which means REQUESTS ARE NOW OPEN! So, if you have any, send them my way. If I get too many requests, I might have to close them again soon. Now I need to make sure I’ll close it soon enough and not just keep receiving lots of requests. It didn’t work out too well before. Anyways, hope you like this imagine. If you guys want it, I could continue this one. That’s a possibility.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warning: this one is a little angsty. Just a little. Mentions of sex but not smut.
"So you have a photo of me with a prostitute. So what". For whatever pairing you want
I DID NOT FORGET THIS. I got stuck real bad and it took a while to get back to writing; sorry to keep you waiting. So, here; Schnee family drama with Monochrome mention.
Weiss watched the way her father paced in front of the fireplace,
never once allowing her posture to falter. The study’s walls once felt
stifling and oppressive, the eyes in the paintings all looking down upon
her, the busts judging her as well- mental tricks she’d outgrown, but
ones he still wished to play, hoping that setting the field in his favor
would improve the outcome. She’d only seen him this incensed once
before, and that was back when he still worried about being caught
raising a hand to his children; she doubted this fiasco would turn out
any better. A stab of phantom pain attempted to close her left eye but
she muscled through it, tilting her chin up when his furious gaze fell
on her, the folder in his hand held up between them.
this song and dance far too many times. Ever since he assumed the office
of Governor after her grandfather’s term ended, the man had done
everything in his power to portray the family exactly as he
wanted them to appear to the press. Every movement was measured, every
faltering step remarked upon endlessly, and she’d grown up fully
expecting that she had no other choice but to walk the path he’d mapped
out for her, to one day assume the office herself and continue the
Schnees’ impressive hold over the state. That meant she could be nothing
short of perfect, entirely scandal free, and beyond reproach on every
front. The whole routine exhausted her but she kept up appearances well
enough, though his irrational barking occurred more frequently now. He
had to know she was faking it by this point and he was purposely pushing
her, seeing if she’d break and allow him to remold her into the image
he desired for her.
Well, since your response was so overwhelming, here’s part 2! Many many thanks to @diversemediums for helping me think things through! She and I are both excited to see what happens next. I can’t remember the last time when I had absolutely no idea what was coming on next in a story. Thanks for enjoying part one so much!
Claire didn’t go home with Geillis that night, unsure about what had happened with that strange psychic man.
“Claire please! You have to tell me everything!”
“There’s nothing to tell! He read my tea leaves, read a little from my palms and told me to come back.”
“Then why won’t you come home? Afraid I’ll pester you until you crack?”
Smiling, Claire rolled her eyes.
“Well you’re likely to do that anyway. But no. I’ve got a date with Frank tonight.”
“Oh,” Geillis said flatly. “You’ll be spending the night with him, then?”
“Yes. Unlike you, I prefer my love making to be private.”
Geillis gave her a coy smile.
“I can’t help it if I’m a passionate lover.”
“My only wish is that your ‘passion’ would be a little more quiet. I’m just going to change and then meet up with him for lunch between his classes.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll get the details out of you later.”
As they headed back toward their apartment, Claire realized she hadn’t gotten the number for the place or made an official appointment to return. No matter. She’d just come back when she had time.
Her lunch with Frank was normal, same as always. He talked about his classes, his problem students, how many he thought would pass his exams. She told him about the film she and Geillis had watched the night before. For some odd reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her strange experience with the mysterious Jamie Fraser.
She made dinner for them both in his apartment, ready and on the table when he arrived. They ate and made plans to go see a new museum exhibit the next week. A life with him would be comfortable, uneventful, and she would want for nothing. He would provide a good home and be a good father.
The palm of her hand tingled where Jamie had touched her and she thought about his words.
As if you’ve a big choice to make. Neither will lead to destruction, but one is clearly the better of the other.
Looking up from her own hand, she saw Frank waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Are you ready for bed?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I completely zoned out for a moment.”
She followed him back to his bedroom where they made love the same way they always did. It wasn’t bad, but neither was it as amazing as Geillis always made it sound.
When she finally drifted asleep, she had the strangest dreams. The air around her smelled different, everything seemed younger, fresher.
She was walking, barefoot, through the wet grass. It was raining, but that wasn’t surprising for her. She was searching for something. No, for someone. He promised he’d meet her here, that he wouldn’t make her wait a moment longer.
“Christ, ye look like a wee Faerie, running about through the grass like that. Come here to me, Sassenach.”
“You’re late,” she said, turning to the familiar voice.
Turning around, she searched for his eyes, but her gaze couldn’t move from his lips.
“I was here on time, as I promised. But I didna want to interrupt ye.”
“Please, it’s been long enough!”
Large hands moved over her body in a way that only a lover would do. She felt him untie the laces at the back of her gown.
“It’s been two whole days, a nighean. Surely ye canna be that desperate.”
Her fingers found the sturdy folds of his kilt and began to tug them up. Finally, her gown loostened and she wriggled out of it, standing before him in only her thin shift.
“Closer to three, and yes I can. You’ve rather a voracious appetite, my lad, and I’ve gotten used to it.”
“It’s that good then, is it?”
“You know it is, you Scottish bastard.”
He had several days of stubble on his chin as he bent and kissed her. But oh! How she’d missed this mouth! Rough hands ran over her back and down to her buttocks, where he squeezed and let out a sigh.
“Roundest arse I’ve ever had the pleasure to see. And fondle.”
“I’m really not concerned with the fondling of my arse at the moment, good sir.”
“Fair point, my lady.”
While he worked on the ties of his shirt, she pulled his belt free and shook his kilt out on the ground. While this wouldn’t be the first time they’d made love out of doors, she wasn’t fond of the debris that got stuck on her everywhere.
God the smell of him, the feel of his toned body beneath her hands, the taste of his tongue probing inside her mouth. It was all too much. She shrugged out of her shift and lay down on his kilt, watching as he admired her naked body.
“Have I told ye lately, mo chridhe,” he whispered, speckling her skin with kisses as he made his way up to her lips. “How much I love ye?”
“Not in the last hour, no.”
“I love you,” he kissed beneath her left breast. “I love you.” A kiss beneath her right. “I love you.” A kiss right between them.
Taking fistfuls of his bright red hair in both her hands, she pulled his mouth up to her own.
“Come show me how much, my beloved husband.”
Then two blue eyes locked with her own. Eyes she’d seen before. The color seemed to be shifting through every shade of blue in existence.
“MINE,” growled his voice, thick with lust. “You are mine alone! Mine forever! I’ll no’ give ye up to another! No’ now, no’ ever!”
“Yes!” she screamed back at him, digging her fingers into whatever flesh she could find.
Her body was trembling beneath him, though not from cold. Both of her legs struggled to lock around him, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. God she didn’t want this to ever end.
“Look at me, Claire!”
Forcing her eyes open, she met his gaze.
“Promise me. Promise me that we’ll always find each other. In this life and the next.”
“I swear it. I’m yours, forever and always Jamie. I love you.”
Claire shot up in bed, panting and sweating. Her body shook in a way it had never done before. Her breasts ached and there was a heavy dampness between her legs that hadn’t been there before.
Trying not to wake Frank, she got up and went to splash water on her face. Staring at herself in the mirror, she ran hands through her hair.
“What the hell was that, Beauchamp?”
Jamie tossed and turned, restless. In all his reading through his journals, he’d gleaned no further information on Miss Beauchamp.
Then all at once, he knew he’d fallen asleep. This wasn’t a normal dream, but the first vision he’d had in years.
He watched her wander through the field, stalking her as a wolf did a rabbit. But he would have her in his arms soon enough.
And then he had her, in his arms, smelling like the wet earth and that heady scent of her arousal. He couldn’t undress her fast enough, couldn’t feel her bare skin soon enough. Nearly three days, sleeping alone. Far, far too long.
Then he was above her, staring down into those inhumanly golden eyes, her breasts rubbing slightly against his chest as she panted.
“I love you,” he whispered against the skin of her chest.
“Come show me how much, beloved husband.”
Husband. They’d been married a month ago in secret. No one knew they had. He’d given her a silver ring and the key to his estate, along with his heart and virginity. But she kept them hidden.
He’d felt the ring sewen into one of her pockets, always with her. He had no idea what she’d done with the key. It didn’t matter. They belonged to each other and no one else. Soon enough, he’d get her with child and no one could separate them.
White hot pain pricked over his body where she clawed and drew blood.
“MINE,” he growled into her ear, resisting the urge to bite ite. “You are mine alone! Mine forever! I’ll no’ give ye up to another! No’ now, no’ ever!”
Hearing her say that, while her hips lifted to meet his, gave him a primal pleasure he didn’t understand. Her body jerked as he felt himself prepare for release. His howl started low and guttural, growing in volume until-
Throwing the sheets off, he swung his legs over one side of his bed and put his hands on his knees. It took him several minutes to catch his breath and keep his hands from shaking. Christ he’d forgotten how intensely real these visions could be.
Visions of things he’d never experienced were the worst. Having never lain with a woman, he could only assume it would feel like that.
“Holy God,” he muttered to himself, running a hand over his head. “What just happened, Fraser? Get yourself together, man.”
Missing his longer hair, he took another breath and reached for the empty dream journal he kept beside his bed. For now he would jot down the notes and quick sketches quickly. Later, after he’d had time to study the vision, he’d write it down properly in the big book, sketch things out and take his time about it.
Wondering when he would see Miss Beauchamp again, he decided to take a shower and not dwell on his vision; or how he could still taste her in his mouth, or feel her breasts beneath his hands. Christ he could still feel her nipples between his teeth, feel her trembling, smell the intensity of her want for him. Perhaps it would be a cold shower.
Man these stories just keep popping out of me. Who knew @doodledrawsthings Hell’s Studio AU would be such a burst of inspiration for me? Anyways, this one deals with the passage of time, and a few events that happened in the U.S. during that shift, namely the 60s-70s sexual revolution and how our 40s era friends might react to it. Still takes place about 30 years after their creation so time period is somewhere in the 70s, probably late 70s. Hope you guys enjoy!
You see the world in black and white until you touch your soulmate.
And whatever you write on your skin will appear on your soul mate as well.
But don’t worry a little red string will appear around your pinky finger when they are near. Red will be the first color you ever see. And this little red string will lead you to the one thing your heart desires most
Word count: 641
Ever since i was small i heard the fairy tale stories of how people find their soulmates. The first color you would ever see would be red, because it was said to represent love. My mom would tell me how she met her soulmate-my dad- and how it was one of the happiest moments in her life.
I dreamed of seeing color, i yearned for it. I dreamed of seeing the color red but never actually being able to fully get it. The human brain can’t think of a new color and for the past 19 years of my life i’ll I’ve know was black and white.
I never wrote to my soul mate either, I was too scared. And they never wrote to me either, but I had a habit of drawing along my hand and arm. They Seemed to enjoy it, the only contact I had with them was when they drew a little smiley face and a note that said “I love the drawings” with a little heart after.
I was on summer break, meaning when school starts again I will be a college sophomore. I was an Art major and a drama minor. Two passions I’ve had since I was little.
Today I was going to attend the opening of a new art gallery downtown. So i had to get ready, and make sure i had my painting with me. They had a select few college students make painting for their student gallery. And apparently they thought i was good enough.
I dressed simply, a sort black sundress…. at least I think it was black, and sandals, god only knows what color they were. I did minimal makeup, i was always told i looked better with little to none on, a natural beauty they would say. I let my hair down, and curled it for a few waves.
As far as I could tell my hair was dark. I wonder what color my eyes are, what color the makeup is that I’m wearing
I grabbed my painting and purse and headed out. I was assuming the painting was colorful. It’s just that i couldn’t see it. God I wish I could I could see the colors. I headed down 45th street toward the center of town.
I want to paint the city when I finally get to meet my soulmate. If that ever happens. I wanted to know what blue and green looked like, purple, pink, yellow. They were all just words to me. I wanted so badly to see the world in color, to get out of this monochrome dream.
When I moved to the city I told the painters that could see colors to give each room the most vibrant colors possible. I only knew that vibrant meant bright, but the only bright thing I knew was white.
Not only did I want to see color I wanted to meet my soulmate, so badly. Someone I could talk to and laugh and cuddle with. Someone who loves me, who has the same interests. I wanted to meet him, so dearly.
I turned the corner to 36th street, I was only a few blocks away. That is until I felt a scribbling on my arm. I stopped dead. And looked down and my fore arm. What was Written there made my heart stop.
“Look at your pinky finger”
And so I did, and I saw the one thing I had been dying to see there for years. A small read string, leading me back the way I had just came. I was entranced. Red. I could see the color red. And it was beautiful. I felt my eyes water, the happiness I had been waiting to feel was finally happening.
I pulled a pen out of my bag and wrote “finally” and headed in the direction I had just came.
The escape pod doesn’t go as fast as Blue could, which is a surprise because if anyone is reduced to using one, they’re probably in situation where they need to get away from their attackers really freaking quick. It does however take you to the coordinates on some sort of autopilots, so I can sit back and make sure I’m not flying through any meteor fields, pretend I’m on a long car ride. It gives me some time to think, so I think, and think and think. Prince Lotor’s gentle words keep playing on a loop in my brain because hey, they’re the only messiah in this sadness I’ve been swimming in. Maybe I’m as dependent on him as Blue claimed, but I feel to the need to remind that I was that dependent on everyone in the castle.
Dependent on their praise for my own happiness, dependent on their recognition to chase my mood swings away, but it would never work because that’s… I don’t know, that’s just not how it’s supposed to work. Maybe I was going to end up miserable whether the team stepped all over me or not just because I’m away from my family, or just because everything’s changing so quickly. Of course, there’ll always be things in my environment that ensure I don’t stay in a constant state of happiness. It could be as large as failing a mission or as small as breaking my pencil. I should know, I cried when I almost lost my Garrison scholarship for throwing a chocolate smoothie at Reed Graymouthe and I cried when I stepped on my favorite pen.
This trip is reminding me how quiet space is. Most of it’s just black matter, with so much left to discover. We could come across the hundred planets and there would still be space to come across more. It’s reminding me why I wanted to become a pilot in the first place. To think I could ever be apart of a discovery, finding something new to grasp in the huge, endless abyss of space could make me melt on the spot. Or cry, depends on how many pencils I’d broken that day. Then, there was Keith. Everything was always about Keith, even when he got the boot for behavioral issues. It… it is so heart breaking to have your dreams ripped away from you so suddenly, to be constantly told you will never be as good as someone you had admired and aspired to surpass to deeply. The teachers, the students, they always thought I must know I’d never be good enough.
They even recommended I drop out of the pilot program, move onto engineering or physics, because there was a reason I’d been able to test into the Garrison. I knew the basics for most of the subjects the Garrison centered around, but I’d chosen to go with piloting despite being mediocre at it. No matter how much I practiced, I never seemed to improve.
Eventually, I can’t hold open my eyelids anymore and my brain is getting swampy, vision blurry from the filter of my eyelashes, then I just close them completely. There’s a red film, red like Keith’s lion, red like any humans insides, red like blood that trickles from flesh, red like… the feeling of conflict he instills in me. God, I’m trying to be sure of myself, but I’m still conflicted, even past the point of no return. No matter how awful they’ve ever treated me, even if unintentionally or just as default because they don’t know how much it hurts, I still cling to them. Shiro bears favoritism, but he’s still such a good leader and I was always flattered to ever be on his team. Keith and I’s purely sexual relationship wasn’t even toxic until just recently, when my mind became too much, and he’s a phenomenal pilot. Pidge, they were like a little sibling to me and Hunk was my best friend, essentially my saving grace when we fell apart so conveniently at the same time all those years ago at the Garrison, at just the beginning of our long journey. Even if he’s all but abandoned me now. I guess the score is settled, now.
Allura and I got along pretty well and she rejected by semi serious advances long ago. The flirting was just a farce for comedic purposes, as I’m just a joke to everyone, so I should keep up the act to not upset the balance. After all, if the team is able to unload their frustrations onto me and that is the only purpose I’ve come to serve, it’s better than nothing and I’d oblige less than happily, but no one else would know that. Not anymore. Now, I’m finally doing something for myself. Now, I’m not letting people shove me into walls, fuck me over, use me. This isn’t the academy, I should’ve never been used as an outlet in the first place because no matter how you view it, it’s wrong. Even if it was unintentional. No one should be used like that, if they’re used at all.
But, oh Allura. She told me that my flirting, although inconvenient at times, made her feel pretty. I would do anything to help the others, especially when they all bare such heavy burdens, even if it’s as small as playful, kiddish advances. We became close through our mutual understanding. I think… she always sort of knew I was unhappy. The same way my Mama knew I wasn’t ever clumsy enough to trip and scrape myself up every single day. But, following the similarity, they both probably didn’t know how to approach me. God, I just want someone to approach me about it at all, to know someone cares, not just suspect it. I don’t care if it’s inadequate or messy because that’s just how life is and I’d appreciate the slightest bit of concern in any form.
Coran, on the other hand, outwardly knew about my faltering mood. He explains to me that as a royal advisor, he’s well skilled in the art of reading others, observing and noting their behavior and what even the slightest of abnormalities mean. He pats my back and says that although he doesn’t completely understand what I’m going through, he’ll always lend an ear. That was probably the most comfort I’d ever received from an adult. We became very close. I’d say our bond was almost… familial. However, Matt drew everyone’s attention away. I laugh humorlessly as I begin to lull into a cold rest. I’m so bitter, I wish Matt and Shiro would’ve stayed captive just so I could live in my comfortable illusion of stability. With the thought that even if I was needed for awful reasons, I was needed at all by those I… loved.
Another dream grips me, oddly enough.
However, it’s just a continuation of the last dream. I’m prepared to die, I just sucked in the water and I feel like my face is about to pop. It’s one of the most painful feelings I’ve ever felt. I feel so swollen that my eyelids are just pinching themselves close and my limbs are jerking without my permission, sending a flurry of bubbles around me, the distorted blue of the sea getting darker and darker around the edges as the last of the light fades. The murky images of my friends, up on the surface, blinks out of focus and the pressure of being submerged this deep will make my chest explode eventually, it’s just an agonizing matter of time.
Then, there’s something slender slipping around my waist, tanking me down. I try to scream, but I just pull in more water and my body is desperate to keep it out, so desperate to stay alive, even when I grant it an escape. If I’m lucky, my chest will explode before my eyeballs pop out of my head. Locks of white hair swim up in front of me, tickling my face, as whatever is gripping me drags me deeper at an alarming rate. I see my life flash before my eyes, with lips against the shell of my ear, maybe this will be my end and -
“Mine at last, Blue Prince.”
I jerk awake in a fashion similar to when the first dream struck and find myself staring into familiar golden eyes, framed with familiar white lashes, lodged in a familiar, angular purple face. So many emotions rush into my skull that my facial expression probably mirrors a fuzzy TV screen because everyone tried to change the channel at once. A full minute passes of me just staring blankly into his face before I finally settle for a lazy grin because I’d scream, but I just woke up and I’m laying on a bed fit for a prince. A Blue Prince?
“You look better in person, Princey.”
He giggles and his eyes become wide and childish, like a kid observing a tree framed with huge, neatly wrapped presents on Christmas. “To you as well, my darling Blue Prince!” Lotor strokes a finger down my cheek with gentle ease. “Skin so soft, so stunning, structure so gorgeous, a refreshing warm brown color… I love every part of it, my Blue Prince.” He leans down, presses a kiss to the flesh just below my eye. I’m… in heaven, I believe, is the only way I could begin to describe this serenity.
“I’ll have all the time in the universe to worship every part of you.” The prince stands from where he knelt at my side and holy fucking guacamole an actual prince kneeled for me, looking eager. “Shall I introduce you to your new lifestyle as my beloved Blue Prince and honorable Consort?”
I breathe. I’ve never felt less like I’m drowning in my life. This… this is where I am needed. I have a purpose, here. To be by his side, forever.
Here’s the fic I wrote for the @aftgexchangefor @dysfunctional-college-roommates! One of the summer options was Foxes go to a waterpark and well…I guess I sort of set them in the waterpark I go to with my friends every summer and…I kind of wrote more than I expected to? Anyway it’s 7k now (sorry!) and I had a lot of fun but it’s unbetaed. How did this happen, I ask myself, when I couldn’t think of a title. I’ll probably clean it up and post it to Ao3 one day or something but for now I hope you like it!
Neil felt hot just looking at Andrew. It was eighty-five
degrees outside. Pushing higher as the afternoon approached, and they’d just
gotten off a bus full of athletes. Also, Andrew allowed Neil to share
headphones with him while their arms pressed together the entire trip, so there
was a less uncomfortable warmth growing inside of Neil’s chest.
Even so Andrew persisted in his
usual dark attire despite the heat. Though Neil was quick to notice that the
all-black outfits were one-by-one being replaced with navy blues and lower hues
of the color spectrum. He gained more contentment out of that than this
waterpark trip they’d somehow all been talked into ever could.
Summary: In a bid for the power born of true love, King Arthur binds Emma to the broken blade Excalibur. Unbeknownst to him, Killian Jones is bound to the other half, having given himself over to the darkness in order to exact his revenge on Rumpelstiltskin. He frees Emma from King Arthur’s control, sparking the beginnings of war between Camelot and Misthaven, and a quest to rid her of the darkness. (No Curse AU)
Spencer had gasped gale-force when you broke the news to him. Eyes wide, hands grasped in his hair, spinning once in a frantic circle before running over to crush you in a hug.
A girl! There was gonna be a little Miss Reid!
You prepared Max well for the new addition to your family, reading all the right books and talking it out as you took the second pregnancy in stride with a little more ease than the first. You and Spencer scoured and debated names back and forth as vigorously as with little unborn Maximilian and it was you who finally breathed the perfect name into your quiet bedroom.
Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Some mention of race and insecurities
Word Count: 3,468
A/N: Hey guys, I have been working on this for a while and it’s really long, like 6-7 pages long. I hope you guys enjoy this and that none of my friends read this either. Enjoy adorable Steve Rogers!!!!
I was scrolling through Tumblr and what not when I heard a loud knocking at my door. Which was weird, because I wasn’t expecting anyone, I have no friends that would come over, and I don’t have a boyfriend to come over and surprise me. So it is either a very polite serial killer, or it’s someone who is lost and needs help of some kind. When I opened the door, I was met with an insanely tall and muscular chest.