rolling up the gates

His || Jungkook || 0.16

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

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One of many reasons why I appreciate this entire Rick/Gabriel friendship is that it highlights a quality that many of these characters possess but that often goes ignored in Rick, and that is his capacity for forgiveness. 

What’s even better than him forgiving Gabriel for throwing them under the bus, is that it wasn’t an empty gesture. Not only did he forgive him, but he trusts him and believes in him now. He trusts him to care for Judith. He trusts him to protect Alexandria. And he believes Gabriel would never betray them.

He forgave Tara - instantly - for rolling up to their gates with The Governor. And would later go on to be furious with her for putting her life in danger for Spencer and what a fuckin waste that was in hindsight but moving right along.

He forgave Morgan for keeping a wolf, who could have killed somebody, inside their walls. He told Morgan, “You’re coming back” and gave him his gun for protection.

And I don’t even have time to talk about Shane.

Honestly, unless you tried to serve him up as BBQ he is very much willing to look past peoples’ mistakes and give them second chances, and I just wanted to talk about that. 

jadethunderhoof  asked:

Yo this isn't angst but... 2D getting jealous because is flirting with other people despite 2D and the reader not dating? Like 2D getting jealous and being like "why don't you flirt with me" yet he's never said anything to let the reader know that 2D likes them.

A/N: *grace jones voice* thAT;S WHAT I WANTT


Jealous!2D/Reader (Oneshot)

Word count: 2,360


The gust of air condition is by no means unpleasant but it takes you by surprise as you step past the automatic doors at the roller rink, the loud bass over the speakers sending vibrations throughout your chest. Noodle walks ahead of the group, almost running towards the skate counters, leaving the rest of her band mates and you behind. You pull your hands out of your jacket pocket, and look around as you follow her, everyone dressed up in 70′s fashion as it was the theme of tonight. 

You hear a muffled voice to your left and turn your head, “Huh?”

“It’s crowded,” 2D repeats himself over the music, walking up a bit so he’s closer to you.

“Yeah,” you say looking around, “It’s pretty dark in here so you don’t have to really worry about being recognized,” you say turning to the others. 

The four of you meet up with Noodle at the counter as she eagerly taps her nails against the counter, “Skates are half off because it’s Tuesday,” she explains before her skates are handed to her. She takes them quickly before shouting, “Meet you guys in the rink,” and runs off.

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The Kitchens

Sirius and Remus: A king and a commoner from two different worlds who will break all the rules for love.

Part i

(This has been mostly re-written from previous posts and this is how I will be continuing the story from here on out!)


Sirius set out for the West parlor, wondering if maybe he could sleep a while on one of the couches. His bare feet were cool against the July-warmed stone, even at night. He wished he could enjoy this more, like he usually did, with the absence of prying eyes. But his head ached, spinning with thoughts of the ever-looming events that summer’s end promised. There were fall’s many festivals, hunting trips. And among these things, the promise of a bride. He’d be eighteen in November. He’d known what eighteen meant for as long as he could remember. It was inevitable, a pressing weight on his chest. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head: Alliances are needed, Sirius. You’ll be a king one day and you’ll need a powerful Queen at your side. And besides, fall weddings are lucky.

Sirius rubbed at his eyes, huffing as he turned blindly into the room he knew to well, only to find it bathed in a soft warm glow, not dark and quiet like he’d expected. He let his hand drop to his side, taken off guard by the light-soaked walls, and he froze. Because there was a boy there. His heels were coming out of his shoes as he crouched over the softly roasting coals of the beginning of one of the Black castle’s many fires. Sirius realized too late that he’d been standing there too long to make any sort of proper introduction.

Of all the words in his grand vocabulary, his mind decided to settle on, “Oh.”

The boy jumped. He went to stand up too fast and ended up thumping his head painfully against the brick under edge of the fireplace. Sirius cursed at the same time the boy did.

“Christ James, I told you to do the East Wing-“

The boy spoke at the same time that he turned. He cut off just as he saw Sirius.

“Oh.” He inhaled sharply, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, “My Lord. I didn’t realize…”

And Sirius watched it happen, just as it always did. He watched the boy’s back straighten, he watched the front go up.

Sirius huffed, annoyed. He made his way around the sofa slowly, fingers trailing against the plush fabric as he did, “Didn’t realize I’d be in my own castle?”

The boy frowned. He looked like he wanted to narrow his eyes but thought better of it, “Not at these hours. My Lord.” He added the last part hastily, half-heartedly, and a bit heatedly.

“I’d ask you the same question.” Sirius did narrow his eyes. He was allowed to.

The boy looked like he was biting his tongue before he spoke, “I was to light the fires this morning, my Lord.”

Sirius froze, expression flickering, “Morning?”

The boy glanced out the window briefly, “Morning, my Lord.”

Sirius followed his eyes, only to see that it was morning. He blinked at the dawning sky, the world still pink, and cleared his throat, “Oh.”

“Have-“ The boy hesitated until Sirius looked back at him. His expression slightly softer but guarded still, “have you been out all night? Around the castle? My Lord.”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed, rubbing his face, “You don’t have to add that after every sentence.” He pressed his thumbs into his eyes, as if trying to rub the fatigue out, before looking back at the boy. He had flour on his cheek, a bit of ash on his temple.

“Yes.” He looked back out the window, “I guess so.”

He didn’t think he’d been walking all night and yet there was the sun, peaking over the mountains.

The boy crouched down, scraping the iron fire poker back up and prodding at the coals with it, “Sometime on your mind, my Lord?”

Sirius felt annoyance flare up again, “I said-“

But he stopped, words catching in his throat. He shouldn’t admit it—really he couldn’t admit it—not out loud anyways—but, now that he was looking, really looking, the boy was a bit of a beautiful sight. Maybe it was just the firelight, or lack of sleep, but the thought sprang to the front of Sirius’ mind so quickly he just… thought it.

He shifted, clearing his throat, “No.” He meant to turn away, maybe leave, but instead he sat down, “No. I simply lost track of time.”

The fire light made the boy’s eyes look like a a pot of melting amber when he turned towards Sirius, expression forwardly quizzical, “Yes, my Lord.”

Sirius frowned, “Do you not know my name?”

The boy raised an eye brow, “My Lord?”

“Do you not. Know my name.” Sirius repeated, “Is that why you refuse to use it, even upon my request?”

It was still quite dark, but Sirius could have sworn the boy flushed. He turned back to poking the fire.

“You know, you aren’t doing that right.” Sirius continued when he still didn’t answer.

The boy kept poking, not looking away, “I’m not usually in charge of the fires.” He mumbled.

Sirius leaned forward, “No, you see, they aren’t going to stay alight like that. Didn’t you- no, stop, stop.” Sirius swiftly moved to crouch next to the boy, putting his hand over his on the poker, “Watch. You need it to be…” He guided their hands to push the embers towards the center, “Like such. That way the smoke goes up and the heat goes out. See now?”

“I… Yes. How did you…”

Sirius shrugged, “It’s from hunting trips, really. Probably the only useful survival skill I know. Proves I’m not completely helpless.”

“That’s not what James says.”

Sirius did his best to look aghast but it ended as more of a smile, surprising himself, “That’s how you address your superiors?”

The boy looked like he was trying not to smile too, “A moment ago you were begging me to call you Sirius.”

Sirius turned sharply away from the coals, taken off guard. He tightened his grip on the iron. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard his name from a servant’s mouth before. James, his valet, called him Sirius. He had just never heard his name quite like that. Soft, gentile. The way this boy said it… it almost made him sound like a good person.

Sirius continued with the fire, “So the truth is out. You do know my name.”

The boy wrapped his arms around his knees, watching the coals. His sandy hair flopped nicely into his eyes, “Everyone in the world probably knows your name.”

Sirius laughed softly, and he found that it lightened the heavy feeling in his chest considerably, “Well. I think you’re sorely misjudging the size of the world.”

The boy looked at him, features extraordinarily soft in the firelight. Sirius’ heart caught.

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” He said quietly, “It isn’t like I’ve seen any of it.”

“S’not that great, really.” Sirius said softly. It was, but Sirius wasn’t about to say that. He cleared his throat instead, “Well, there’s the fire for you-“

He cut himself off again, this time with a curse. He tumbled back on his heels, the poker clattering to the floor, his left hand burning.

“Fuck-“ He unclenched his fist, seeing an angry red mark already forming across his knuckles.

The boy cursed, “Shit, the coals. I forgot to put the gate up- one rolled out- I- your highness-“

“I’m fine,” Sirius grit his teeth, “It’s just a little hot, I-“

“Oh come off it, that’s more than a little hot-” The second the words were out of the boy’s mouth his eyes were wide, “Oh god. I-“

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the your highness, at the horror on the boy’s face when he’d slipped and spoken to Sirius like a normal person.

The boy pressed his lips together, the hollows of his cheeks pink. He directed his gaze to Sirius’ injured hand, “We should really get something for that.”

Sirius nodded, “You can rouse Pomfrey for me.”

The boy stood, “I think I can help you, actually… if you like.” He offered Sirius a hesitant hand.

Sirius took it. He didn’t even think about it, he just let this boy pull him up, cradling his injured one to his chest, “I don’t even know your name.”

The boy arched an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can help either way.”

Sirius stretched his knuckles hesitantly, then flinched, “What’s your name?” He asked again.

The boy’s face fell a fraction, and Sirius suddenly realized he had been trying to be friendly, maybe funny even, and Sirius had taken it for disrespect.

“Remus.” He said shortly, “It’s Remus.” He turned, leading the way out of the room.

“Like the myth?” Sirius followed him.

“What myth?”

“The Roman one. With the wolf. The founding of Rome, surely you know it.”

Remus glanced behind him, “Sorry, no.”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “Didn’t you learn it in school?”

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius fell into stride with him, “You’re assuming I went to school.”

Sirius’ steps faltered, “I- oh.”

“Not all of us grow up in castles, not to mention princes.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’ profile as they walked down the servant’s staircase. It was hard to read. He’d been the one trying to lighten the mood that time and, once again, they’d misunderstood each other.

“I didn’t mean any offense.” Sirius offered.

Remus sent him a small smile, “And yet…”

Sirius suddenly felt very aware of his words, his accent, even his attire, all in comparison to Remus. He felt overdressed in his maroon robe, the gold embroidery feeling flashy and unnecessary next to Remus’ plain white shirt, littered with stains from work.

Remus shook his head gently at him as they entered the kitchen, “I’m joking. It’s alright, you didn’t know.” he nodded towards the countertop, “sit there.”

Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck, “I suppose I should have known…” His eyes widened, “I mean-“

Remus rolled his eyes, “Sit.”

“-not that I would assume you didn’t have an education-“

Sit, Sirius.”

Sirius pushed himself up onto the counter, silently kicking himself. Silently relishing the way Remus said his name. He watched wordlessly as Remus set ingredients out on the counter next to him. Honey, and a lemon.

“Well… this is odd.”

Remus looked at Sirius, “You’ve never seen this before?”

Sirius shook his head.

Remus smirked, slicing the lemon in half effortlessly, barely even glancing down, “Well, you’re obviously not learning everything with that education of yours, are you?”

Sirius straightened a little, almost prepared to snap a retort, but he caught onto the joke this time—just barely. Sirius looked away but smiled.

Remus held his palm out, “Give your hand here.”

Sirius glanced nervously at the lemon, “Won’t that hurt?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and held out his hand more insistently, “What do you think the honey’s for? It will only sting for a moment…”

For the second time that night, Sirius relinquished his hand.

Sirius watched Remus’ brow furrow as he gently pressed the the cross section of the lemon across Sirius’ slightly blistered knuckles. Sirius hissed, then tried to turn it into a cough. He pointedly ignored Remus’ smirk.

Remus’ fingers were cool against the irritated skin around the burn, and Sirius drew his lip between his teeth as Remus carefully smeared a bit of honey over the aching cut. The thick paste relieved the throbbing to a duller pain.

“Christ.”

Remus wiped his hands on a kitchen rag, “More useful than a Roman myth, huh?”

Sirius scoffed, “I apologized.”

“Is that how world affairs are settled then? Apologies?” Remus smiled, producing a bandage from the same cupboard the honey had come from. His long fingers worked nimbly as he wraps Sirius’ hand.

“This is hardly a worldly affair..” Sirius said under his breath. Remus glanced at Sirius, looking at him flatly, then sighed, finishing the wrap.

“There. If it starts to hurt again, I- or I mean Madame Pomfrey can-“

“I’ll find you if it hurts.” Sirius’s mouth said it before he could think on it, and he slid from the counter.

Remus nodded slowly, “Oh. Right.”

Sirius drummed his fingers on the countertop, looking down at Remus, “Right.”

Remus glanced around Sirius nervously, “People will probably be waking soon.”

Sirius nodded, although he hadn’t really heard what Remus had said. They were standing quite close, “Right.”

Remus seemed a bit breathless when he spoke again, “We have to prepare your breakfast…”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, “Do you prepare the breakfast?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, “I prepare your breakfast.”

Sirius blinked, “Really?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder, “When you take it in your room at least. Which is-“

“-most days.” Sirius finished. He cocked his head slightly, “But how do you know?”

Remus shook his head, confused, “Know?”

“That I’m having it upstairs.”

Remus paused for a moment, as if waiting for Sirius to continue, or to laugh. Then his eyebrows raised very high to his hairline and he let out a burst of laughter, “Honestly?”

Sirius stepped back a step, cheeks heating, “What?”

Remus quickly stopped laughing, noticing Sirius’ offended gaze, “No- No, I’m sorry,” His eyes filled with something that looked like dissapointment. Sirius felt that same emotion stirring in his chest, although he didn’t quite know why, “It’s just… you really don’t know how we work down here, do you?”

Sirius shuffled uncomfortably, trying not to jostle his hand too much, “Well…” He tried to think of some excuse, shrugging, “When I come down here everyone stops working to ask what I want.”

“They’re suppose to do that.” Remus points out.

“Yes, but that explains why I don’t know how it works.” Sirius spluttered.

Remus smiled, “Fine, fine… Lord, I’m sitting here arguing with a Prince… James tells me.”

Sirius, fully prepared for a defense again, deflated some, “Oh.” He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I guess I should have thought of that.”

Remus shrugged, eyes teasing, “I guess.”

Sirius found he much preferred this boy to look at him like that than how he had just been, “Education… Education’s not everything, I suppose.”

When Remus smiled shyly at his own words being reflected back at him, Sirius felt something, some wall, crack a little. He smiled.

There was a creak from the floorboards above causing both boys to look up, then back down at each other. They were nearly nose to nose, and Sirius quite enjoyed that he had to look down a bit to meet Remus’ eyes.

“I- you may want to go.”

Sirius nodded. The thought of being surrounded by bustling activity, having to answer why he was down here in the first place, was suddenly very unappealing, “Yes. I should. I-“

The stared at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Well. Thank you… for the honey. Not for the burn.” He nodded shortly, not moving away just yet.

“Oh. Yes.” Remus was breathless again, eyes fixed on Sirius, “Thank you for… the myth. Not for the condescension.”

When he was safe in his room again, the sun peaking through the seam in his dark, heavy curtains, Sirius couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face; at the eyes that filled his thoughts, at the boy in the kitchen, at the eggs he woke up to a few hours later.

~

“Sirius, you have dinner in a half hour. And it isn’t you your mum kills if you’re late, its me, so, please, if we could just-“

Sirius looked up from the hot water surrounding him to where James was leaning against the doorway, making frantic hurry up motions.

“James, I am naked and thoroughly enjoying my bath so if you could stop staring at me. Also, I don’t know if that statement is entirely correct… I recall being murdered quite a few times. Pass me that cloth, would you?”

James rolled his eyes, reminding Sirius with a pang of his late night run in from just a few hours ago, and more threw it at him.

Sirius glared, “I can have you fired. Turned out of the castle.”

James glared, lying down on the plush bench along the bath, feet by Sirius’ head.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “For that too.”

James laughed at the ceiling, hands behind his head, eyes closed, “Yes, but you won’t.”

Sirius grinned, then hissed as his burned hand touched the hot water. James raised an eyebrow.

“What happened there, anyway?”

Sirius started, making a show of soaking the towel and squeezing the excess water out, “Oh. Just a burn. Some clumsy-one of your lot didn’t know how to handle the tea.”

James scoffed, “Well, that wasn’t rude at all.”

Sirius blinked, then sank further into the water, sighing, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

James sighed, closing his eyes again, “I know, don’t worry.”

“You seem to be the only one that does…” He grumbled under his breath, images of disappointed and disapproving amber eyes crossing his mind.

James peaked one eye open, “Huh?”

Sirius let the cloth go and watched it slowly sink to the bottom of the large tub, “Nothing.”

James looked at him for a moment longer, but knew better than to push. Instead, he stood, snagging a large towel and laying it in his place on the bench, “I’m getting your dinner clothes ready. You’ve had long enough, get out.”

“Yes, mum.”

“Don’t insult me.” James called over his shoulder.

~

Sirius, despite the torment, sat perfectly still through dinner. He felt like a caged animal that had been trained to do so—especially with guests around which, given the fact that they were the royal family, there was always the nobles and some duke and duchess from god knows where around to dine with. He listened his mother talk politics, he watched his father talk politics—if not in a slightly more slurred fashion and into his whiskey glass. He watched his brother, Regulus, sit there silently, glaring at his food as if it had personally offended. He was only glad his cousins weren’t in town. Well, maybe Andromeda. She never was the worst of the lot at least.

He wished for probably the thousandth time in his life that James could sit at the dinner table with him, or that maybe he could sit at James’ dinner table. He almost didn’t care that it was with the rest of the servants—no. No, he didn’t care. He glared at his mother, shoving a piece of duck into his mouth. He knew he had her to thank for those elitist slip-ups.

As if this wasn’t torment enough, his hand positively ached. Remus’ remedy had long washed off in the bath, and with the dry cotton wrap rubbing against it every time he cut his food, it felt like there was a coal being pressed against his skin all over again. Highly distracting. He told himself he would go to Pomfrey after dinner, perhaps skip dessert for it all together.

That’s what he told himself he would do.

When the time came for puddings and cakes he stood, scraping his chair back and pointedly ignoring his mother’s look.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Some idiot servant burned me with tea this morning,” The slur rolled as effortlessly off his tongue as the lie did, “I’m going to seek Pomfrey.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, only for a man to open the dining room doors for him. He swept through the halls, hand cradled to his chest, with the full intention of making his way to the castle infirmary. His found his feet straying, however. He took a turn, trotting down the staircase he had taken the previous night, not realizing where he was or what he was doing until he was already hovering in the doorway.

~

Remus all but collapsed onto the stool by the large island, letting the heat still radiating from the kitchen fireplace warm the aching muscles of his back.

“Well, that sorts it then,” Mrs. Potter, the cook, rubbed her hands together, dusting flour residue from then, “Another dinner done right, Remus, hm?”

Remus gave her a tired, half smile, “Right.”

“Splendidly done, of course!” James entered the kitchen, carefully avoiding the various things dusting the table—he was still in his valet tails—as he took the stool next to Remus, leaning over to press a kiss to his mum’s cheek, “Please tell me you saved some-“

Remus pushed a plate of three Walnut cookies towards him. James all but growled.

“You’re a saint.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Not quite.”

“I believe he was talking to me.” Mrs. Potter chuckled kindly, “I’m off for some tea and then bed. Remus, make sure that fire is out properly before you go up, yeah?”

Remus nodded, accepting a half of cookie James broke off for him. He watched her kiss her son and then exit, chewing in silence.

Remus felt the question rise back to the tip of his tongue, the one he’d almost asked at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Only it was ten times stronger now that he and James were alone.

He cleared his throat, “Um. James?”

“Hm?” James took another cookie, offering half to Remus again who shook his head this time.

“Is… Is the prince…”

James arched an eyebrow when Remus trailed off.

Remus huffed, “What’s he like exactly?”

James snorted a little, smiling and popping another bit into his mouth, “What do you think he’s like?”

“Rather rude.” Remus said before he could stop himself, “I- I just mean. He doesn’t understand much, does he?”

“About us? God, no.” He shook his head, “Barely realizes the things he says sometimes… I suppose that’s where the rudeness would come in.”

Remus nodded, silently begging James to go on. He didn’t know why he was so curious but he’d practically had to will himself to sleep last night, and even then it was restless. Even then a certain rude, condescending prince invaded his thoughts. He’d ended up coming down to make the bread an entire hour and a half early.

“But, that being said and all… he’s not all bad. He’s just…” James shrugged, “he’s sheltered, I suppose. Doesn’t have a clue what the real world’s like. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought everyone got their breakfast served on a silver tray in bed each day.” Remus snorted with him, “But, y’know, he treats me well. If he does say something and I correct him, it takes him a minute but he apologizes-“

“You correct him?”

James waves a hand, “We’ve been together since we were kids, I’m more than allowed.”

Remus nods. James had grown up here. He tried to imagine a younger version of the boy he’d met last night playing with a servant boy. He frowned.

“Why so curious all of a sudden?”

Remus blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, “What?”

“You’ve never asked about Sirius before.”

“Oh.” Remus shifted in his chair, “I. I just- I…” For the life of him, he couldn’t think of something to say. With James still looking at him so curiously, his shoulders deflated and he sighed, “I met him. Last night.”

James’ eyebrows raised to his hairline, “Really? How?”

“I was doing the fires in the West Parlor and he walked in—I think he’d been walking all night… And- and then I burned his hand.” Remus finished miserably.

You burned his hand? With tea?”

Remus blinked, “What? No. He took it upon himself to show me how to do my job,” fresh annoyance bloomed in Remus’ chest, “and I forgot to shut the gate. Then I took him down hear and wrapped it for him-“

“Jesus, he didn’t mention any of this.” James laughed.

Remus stuttered for a moment, willing the disappointment that closed in, snuffing out the annoyance to dissipate. Why would he mention it? Sirius’ words echoed in his ears.

This is hardly a world affair

“Well. I-“ Remus huffed, “I just wondered what you thought. He started spewing all this shit about Roman myths and what the world was like and he practically assumed I didn’t have an education…” Not quite true, but Remus was suddenly a little furious at the prince. For depriving him of sleep, for the way he spoke, for the way he dressed, for everything he was. Everything he stood for. Everything Remus wasn’t.

James laughed again, shoving the last bit of cookie towards Remus, “Think you need this more than I do.”

“Shut up.” Remus fought the soft smile that played on his face.

James held his hands up in surrender and pushed back from the table, “Alright, alright. I’m going up. You need anything?”

Remus shook his head, “No, got most of everything done already. Just the fire. Might stay down here a while longer. Clean the counter… or something.”

James nodded, rapped his knuckles on the table twice, and set off for the stairs. Remus listened to his footsteps fade, and then leaned his elbows onto the table, head in his hands. He really should go to bed too. He’d had an even longer day than usual, but he was restless, mind working overdrive—annoyingly so.

Another set of footsteps approached from the main stairs leading to the house. He assumed it was a waiter, Peter maybe, and didn’t bother looking up, even when they stopped and hovered in the doorway.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Remus started so hard he banged his knee painfully into one of the pans hanging on a hook under the island. He spun, standing up and swaying slightly on his feet. He tried to ignore how hard his heart was racing at the sight he was met with, the person he had been thinking about since five this morning.

Sirius chewed on his lower lip before offering a small smile, “I keep doing that to you, I apologize.”

Remus finds himself unable to answer for a moment, eyes locked on stormy gray ones.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, glancing downwards, and it is then that Remus realizes he’s holding his injured hand gingerly against his chest, the wrap he’d given him yesterday clumsily falling apart to reveal his knuckles, looking rubbed raw and worse off than before.

“I’m here fore further treatment.” He says matter of factly, spine straightening, “I’m afraid the pain has returned. Although I’m not sure it ever really left.”

Remus wanted to narrow his eyes at the tone. Sirius didn’t seem to be giving him an option in the matter. Instead, he sighed.

“Yes. Right. Um. Sit there.” He pushed the stool forward with his leg and busied himself with the honey and lemon like before, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel Sirius eyes on him. He took James’ seat, scooting it until he was close enough to rest Sirius’ hand on his knee, his knee that he realized too late was slotted rather snuggly between Sirius’ thighs. He cleared his throat, ignoring the heat that rose on his neck.

“You probably should have come sooner. The skin’s irritated now.”

“You’re the expert, you could’ve come to me.” Sirius pointed out.

“Right, okay, would that be before or after I was making your meals?”

He couldn’t help it. He slipped, the anger coming through. He didn’t look up to see it register in Sirius’ face. When Sirius didn’t retort, guilt started to set in. He rolled his neck a little, trying to stretch out his sore muscles, “Sorry.”

Sirius was silent for a moment longer, “It’s alright… You’re tired.”

Remus couldn’t help the slightly bitter laugh that escaped, “You’ve got that right. Didn’t sleep much last night.” No thanks to you.

“Oh.” Remus thinks he hears a small note of interest in his voice, surprise maybe, “Well. Hot water is relaxing. Might help. Maybe with some oils. Chamomile is-“

“That probably would help.” Remus interjected, only a little heatedly. He shouldn’t say it, he knows Sirius is just trying to help, maybe even make up for his snide comments if what James says about him is true, but he’s tired and confused and restless, “If we had hot water.”

He regrets the words the instant they’re out of his mouth. This time he does glance up at Sirius who, to his surprise, closed his eyes, a pained expression coming across his face. He breathed harshly out through his nose. Remus’ hands stills where they’re holding Sirius’ injured one.

“I don’t mean to do that, you know…”

And Remus’ heart speeds up a little. Because it sounds genuine enough. It’s sent racing when Sirius’ eyes blink back open slowly. He looks sorry, he really does.

“Yeah…I’m catching onto that I think.” Remus says softly.

Sirius’ teeth worry his bottom lip, “Yeah?”

Remus nodded, “Yeah.”

They stare at each other for a second longer, and Remus realizes with a start that his eyes have moved to his lips at the same time as Sirius clears his throat, glancing at the plate that was previously filled with walnut cookies. There’s still a bit of one, the bite Remus had never taken.

“I don’t suppose you’d have any more of those?” He asks timidly.

Remus looks down at Sirius’ hand, which is only half bandaged and tries to finish the job as quickly as he can, “Did you not just eat?”

“I skipped dessert. Hand hurt to bad. It’s really the least you could do since you were the cause of this…”

Remus jerks his head up, fully prepared to fucking bite Sirius’ head off, when he sees the smirk.

He rolls his eyes, not even bothering to feel off about it, and smirks back, “Yes, your highness.”

He’s surprised when Sirius’ face falls, and he looks down to his hand, retrieving it from Remus’ grasp quickly and cradling it back to his chest.

“Sirius.” Remus corrects himself quickly, and relief fills his chest when Sirius glances up once more, smile just beneath the surface, “And yeah, I think we have a few.”

I’m The King

Relationship: Negan X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lot’s of Cussing, Negan being Negan, you almost being Negan, lots of Badassary

A/N: IM HONESTLY IN LOVE WITH THE WAY THIS TURNED OUT SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY FIRST WALKING DEAD IMAGINE!!!!

Summary: You’re basically a female Negan and this is how things turn out.

~~~

“What do you mean Ray?” You growled at the man who served as your right-hand. The brown haired man shifted nervously until until you gave him a sharp glare and he stopped.

“A group attacked us on our way back from one of the pick-ups.” Ray stated. “Took everything, we killed a couple and they said a man named Negan would deal with us later.”  


You stood up fingers gripping the wooden bat and letting one of the many nails that had been stuck into it scrape along the floor. One of your gloved hands drummed against your desk as you walked into the large circle of men and women that gathered in your office. Everyone was silent and didn’t dare make a noise. “Why does this keep happening Ray?” You hummed  looking the man in the eye. “That’s the third time this month, and frankly I’m pissed. Get a truck ready.”

“But you have no one to collect from until next week-” One of your advisors said.

“Does it look like I fucking care?” You asked raising an eyebrow and cocking your head. “I said get a truck ready, we’re going to The Winterbush colony, they were a little light last time anyways.” You handed your beloved bat to Ray before pulling on your gloves and tugging on the worn leather jacket. “I wanna have a word with this Negan because this shit just won’t do.”

———

Less than twenty minutes later- your men knew you hated to wait- you were going to the back of one of your trucks. “M’am are you sure you wanna go back there? Your truck is up in front and ready to go.” You clicked your tongue and turned around on your heel slowly.

“Son, if I wasn’t sure do you really think I’d be going to the back of this fine vehicle?” You told him and he apologized before walking away in slight embarrassment. You hopped into the back of the truck gathering everyone’s attention.

“Listen up!” You shouted, all eyes were on you now. “I wanna meet the man they call Negan, give’em a piece of my mind, so that being said, do not stop unless we’re meeting the man himself!”  

You gave a wicked grin before pulling the back of the vehicle down and being enveloped in darkness. You started humming a tune, nothing special, just something to pass the time. After a short while the truck stopped and you scowled stomping over to the large door and pulling a chain that would allow you to open it.

“What in God’s dead earth is the meaning of this?!” You yelled hopping out of the back and walking to the front of your men where a line of soldiers that weren’t yours stood lined up with a bunch of guns. “Who are you?”

“Negan.” A puny little fellow spoke up towards the end of the line.

“That’s real funny.” You whispered in the man’s face. “I’m going to ask again, who are you?”

“Negan.” A woman said and you turned your head, placing your bat on your shoulder before standing in front of the line of soldiers letting out a hearty laugh.


“Well this is real fucking funny.” You said before grabbing a smaller man and shoving him to the ground. “Now somebody is going to tell me who you are or I’m going to bash ‘lil Timmy’s skull in.”

“Don’t get prissy doll, they’re just doing their job.” A large man wearing a black leather jacket and a red scarf stepped out from behind the line of soldiers. A bat wrapped in barbed wire was sat upon his shoulder next to his salt and pepper colored hair. “I’m Negan, and this is Lucille.” He said picking up his barbed-wire bat.”

“Being a pain in my ass is their job? They need a better career choice bub.” The man had a smirk on his face while your scowl remained permanent. You surveyed the Negan, he seemed to think he was king around here, oh how he was wrong. “Y/N, I’m a very busy woman so I’d like it if you uh, ya know, cut to the chase?”

His smirk left his face and was replaced with a scowl that matched yours. If looks could kill you’d both be dead 10 times over. “You killed my men.”

“You stole my stuff.” You snapped.

“That you stole from others.” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes at the man.


“Survival of the fittest, Megan.” You told him raising an eyebrow.

“It’s Negan doll.” The man said looking down upon you, but you ignored him.

“I don’t bash anymore of their towns brains in and they give me whatever the fuck I want them too.” You said lightly lifting your bat to show Negan what you meant. He let out a hearty chuckle.

“Holy Shit guys!” The man laughed putting his arms out to the side and gesturing to you. “It’s me with tits!”

You scowled before pointing a long finger at his chest. “I want my stuff back.”

Negan laughed again. “No can do doll, unless-” He paused for dramatic effect. “You came back to the sanctuary and we made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” You asked your scowl still permanent on your face, some of your soldiers weren’t sure if it would ever leave your face again.

“We’ll discuss it at the sanctuary.” Negan gave a cocky smirk and you turned to your men. Some were shaking their heads at you but their opinions didn’t matter. You looked towards Ray who gave you a nod of approval before you turned back to face Negan.

“Let’s go boys!” You shouted with a wicked grin. “We’re taking a field trip!”

Negan attempted to put an arm around your shoulder only for you to dodge it and glare at him. You got in the passenger seat of his truck and waited for the man to get in and start driving.

“Nice try. Found this on one of your men.” Negan said getting into the vehicle and tossing one of the walkies you saw Ray pick up and stick in his pocket into the middle of the seat. Even if you didn’t take the deal you sure as hell wanted tabs on the leader of the saviours.

“Well what can I say?” You smirked with your arm hanging out the window as he started driving.

“Sorry?” Negan gave a grin and you rolled your eyes

“This is the apocalypse, not pre-school.” You told him and for the rest of the ride the two of you sat in comfortable silence, your hand never left your bat, you never got that comfortable in the presence of a potential enemy. When the truck rolled up to the gates of the sanctuary you got out looking around as if you were planning renovations to the place.

“Pretty fucking amazing isn’t it?” Negan gave a grin and put his arms straight out to the side showing off his home. “I’d love to see your home, considering I’ve shown you mine.”

“The deal Negan.” You scowled looking at the man clad in leather. He gave a small smirk before leading you inside on of the buildings. He entered a room with a bed and other furniture before closing the door behind you and taking a seat on the couch. You copied his action and waited for him to talk.

“I like you Y/N, I really do.” He began. “You’ve got spunk.”

“I like to think of it as class.” You told the man with a straight face.

“So here’s my bargain, you and I combine forces.” Negan cut right to the chase. “We combine our homes and the places we control.”

“What do I get out of this deal.” You asked leaning forward resting your elbows on your knees and getting closer to the man in black.

“Well, for starters, you could practically rule around here, be a queen, more supplies for your people, I’ll even give you the rest of your supplies my men took.” Negan claimed and you took everything into consideration. “Not to mention you get to work alongside a handsome devil like myself.”

“That’s funny, because back at my home, I’m treated like a King. But I like your deal, so I’ll take it on one condition,” You say.

“Which is?” Negan asks quirking an eyebrow.

“I go on every supply run. I like to be hands on and make sure people know who I am, put the fear into them in case they’ve forgotten who I am.” You declare before sticking out your hand for him to shake. “We gotta deal?”

He shakes your hand and the two of you stand up walking to the doors. “I’ll be back next week, I expect I’ll have a nice comfortable housing space?” You say looking over your shoulder.

“You shall.” Negan says smirking as you walk away. You round up your men and tell them to get in the truck. You turn around and send Negan a wink before getting in a truck of your own. “Gent’s, I think I’m in Love.”

My Sister Can’t See This!

It wasn’t until Joe stepped out of the shower and glanced at himself in the mirror that he realized how bad it was.

“Y/N!” He called out, stepping closer to the foggy mirror, wiping it off. “Shit…” He mumbled more softly.

“What’s wrong?” His girlfriend appeared in the doorway, worry etched across her face.

“This!” Joe gestured to himself, and her worry changed to confusion.

“Uhm, can I repeat my question?”

“We’re heading to my sisters in, I don’t know, soon, and look at me!”

“Will you please just say what’s wrong in simple terms?” Y/N rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, leaning against the door frame. She honestly had no idea what the big deal was.

“I’m covered in bloody hickey’s!” He hissed, turning back to face the mirror, his eyes falling on the prominent marks scattered across his collarbone and on his neck.

“I really don’t see the issue yet…”

“My sister can’t see this!”

“Your sister knows you’re a twenty five year old man with a girlfriend.” Pushing herself off of the doorframe, she headed back to getting ready for their trip to Brighton. “She also knows you have sex!”

“No she doesn’t!” Joe called after her, frowning at his reflection. Some of them just weren’t going to be able to be hidden.

He followed her into the bedroom, reaching for a shirt on the bed to tug it on.

“Do you actually think Zoe doesn’t know we have sex?” Y/N cocked her head as she stared over at him, “Or do you pretend she doesn’t know like how you pretend her and Alfie don’t have sex?”

“Oh my gods,” He groaned, “Can we not have this discussion?!”

“You’re freaking out about nothing though!”

“I’m freaking out about my girlfriend leaving marks all over me!”

“You do the same thing,” She pointed over at him, “And worse. So sorry that I got caught up in the moment and was enjoying sex with my boyfriend, but your sister and Alfie are not going to care about a couple hickeys.”

“This is more than a couple,” Joe mumbled, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “Think it’d be weird if I wore a scarf?”

“Yes. Because since when do you wear scarfs?”

“In the winter.”

“It’s spring. Now, will you please finish packing? Our train leaves soon.”

“Maybe we could cancel…”

“Joseph. Pack.”


The closer they got to the Zalfie household, the more worried Joe got.

He kept fiddling with the collar of his jacket, glancing at his reflection in the window, or any surface that showed it, a frown tugging down on his lips still.

“Stop it,” Y/N smacked his hands away from his collar. “And relax! It’s just Zoe.”

“It’s my sister.”

“Exactly. Your sister,” She replied, climbing out of the car, “Your sister who knows you have sex.”

“Stop saying that!”

Rolling her eyes, she headed up to the gate, pressing the button to get buzzed in.

Zoe was standing at the front door when they made their way there, beaming at the couple.

“Welcome!”

“Hi, Zoe.” Y/N smiled at her, hugging the older Sugg when they were close enough. Joe hung back a bit, trying to hide his minor freak out occurring in his mind.

“Hello, Alfie.” He watched his girlfriend slip from Zoe’s arms and into Alfie’s, hugging the tall man as Zoe turned her focus onto Joe.

“Are you not going to say hi, Joseph?”

“He doesn’t want to get too close.” Y/N teased, grinning over her shoulder at him before following Alfie into the house.


“Are you sick?” Zoe looked over her brother quickly, but then her eyes fell on one of the marks on his neck, and a smirk appeared on her lips, “Or are you hiding something?”

“Nothing.” Joe squeaked out, his hand slapping over his neck quickly.

Laughing, she walked over, tugging his hand away, quickly noticing the other marks, “Hmm, Y/N’s done quite the damage on you.”

“Oh my gods,” Joe groaned, closing his eyes, “We are not having this discussion.”

“Its like you think I don’t know you have sex,” Zoe scoffed, tugging him along behind her into the house, “And really, it’s just funny! You’re the one always teasing Alfie and I!”

“I am not having this discussion!” Joe repeated, his cheeks burning, his sister’s laughter mixing with his girlfriends.

I’ve been joking to people about how I’m going to buy an electric folding scooter because I often have to park three or four blocks away from my building.

I might actually do it though. It’s one of the last no inspection/no registration modes of transportation here (you even have to register your bicycle), and I can just throw it in my car/apartment instead of dealing with outside storage. Also I don’t have to keep moving my car if I’m just heading downtown.

I’ll look like a huge dork. But when has that ever stopped me?

Sassy Stark Pt. 3

Pairing: Dad!Tony x Daughter!Reader, Pepper Potts

Warnings: Angst, swearing (I wrote this people)

Word count: 976

A/N: This is Part 3 of this series - hope you enjoy it! @fandommaniacx has betad this - she is the most wonderful friend and if you don’t follow her already you are seriously missing out! xx

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Malibu, California.

The black limousine rolled up the hills to the mansion, coming to a halt before its gates. You thanked the driver, before slipping out of the sleek-looking car and walking to the entrance, where Pepper, your father’s assistant was waiting for you.

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The One Next Door: Part 6

A/N: I FINALLY UPDATED THIS ONE!!! I can’t believe it tbh but it was really fun! Yeah this one shall continue!!! :D Hope you guys like it!

Originally posted by younas

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

As you stared at her, she marched over to you, having to pull her purse back onto her shoulder as she walked. Stepping back a bit, you grew worried being alone outside with her. There were still people walking by but no one was going to notice anything.

“You!” she exclaimed, obviously angry with you. “I need you to tell me the truth here,” she sniffled. Her eyes were red and puffy and you already knew why.

“What? I barely know you,” you mumbled, feeling intimidated by her.

“Just let me talk,” she sighed. “I’ve seen you around the apartment. Have you been sleeping around with Yoongi?” she asked you as if she wanted you to say yes and admit things that weren’t true.

“No! I’m your neighbor,” you scoffed, taken aback by her question.

“Don’t lie! There’s no way I’m the guilty one here,” she let out a sob as her eyes welled up with tears.

“What? What happened to you two?” you asked with actual concern behind your voice.

“Like you don’t know,” she rolled her eyes. “He speaks to you more than he ever spoke to me,” she sniffled.

“We spoke but we aren’t that close,” you tried to explain yourself. “I promise you that nothing happened. There shouldn’t be a problem,” you insisted.

“Well, there is. The fact that he seems so innocent is the problem,” she spoke more to herself then to you. Letting a frustrated groan out, she ran her fingers through her hair. Grabbing at her left hand, she snatched your wrist, putting something small in your hand. “Give this to him. I’m not giving up on him but he wanted it.”

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anonymous asked:

Um Hello today is my birthday and I promised myself I'd finally get up the courage to ask you if you could please write something with little Shiro and his parents? Please and thank you I really love your work.

[Sorry this is so late, but happy belated birthday!!! :)]

(Want to change the name? Use this!)

Asugi sighed, following the trail to finding the prince. Shiro had gone missing once again; in this case,  there was an actual reason for it. Seeing as Saizo was Ryoma’s retainer, Asugi took it upon himself to be the young prince’s.

The ten-year-old didn’t realize just how hard it would be to keep track of the brat, though. His eyes narrowed, following Shiro’s trail down to the storeroom just outside the gardens.

It wasn’t too hard for him to spot the bright flash of hair that matched his mother’s, sticking out behind the crates of supplies.

“You’re going to get in trouble if you hide out, like this.” He said blandly, tapping the boy’s head. Shiro yelped, swiveling around to see his caretaker. “Besides, you don’t want to worry your parents, do you?”

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middlegame | ivar ragnarsson

sequel to ‘see the whole board

middlegame | the part of the game which follows the opening. plans are formed and put into action.

You goats, there is so.much.pining here. So much.

Ivar sat on the dock, staring out at the glut of boats before him. His fingers turned over, over, over the piece held between them. The ink was smudged and worn from his work over months. It had bled into the carving below it, melding the symbols into one.

He brought his eyes down to study it again. The thousandth time since it had found its place with him. It had been tucked in his shirt, stuffed in his boot, broken free to skid over almost into the waves that rocked the boat that carried it. He’d almost pitched himself into the water to save it. It lay under his pillow, turned in his hand, sat lodged in a beam in his chariot.

His finger came up to swipe over the broken edge at one side of the crown, snapped into his flesh as he’d grasped it at the news of his mother’s death. He would most likely have to kill her father. Would she hate him after that? Would she forgive him?

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anonymous asked:

I'm just craving so sweet tooth-rotting Steter fluff . So like I'd appreciate if you could try to find some. :-) btw I live for your blog tbh

We live for your asks! - Anastasia

Originally posted by mieczyslawstilesstilinski

Apex Predator by Mysenia

(1/1 I 558 I General)

Stiles cannot help teasing Peter.

Between Milk and Roses by WindyRein

(1/1 I 572 I General)

The predator watching his prey stops breathing because if he’s discovered now… It would ruin everything.

dashing through the snow (with a werewolf on my heels) by nezstorm

(1/1 I 617 I General)

Stiles sneaked from tree to tree, trying to make as little noise as possible in the tall snow. He could hide his scent with an easy little spell, sound was a bit harder though.

Front Row Seats to the Show by Mysenia

(1/1 I 725 I General)

The one where Cora schemes and yet still remains the greatest best friend ever.

Impossible to Put Down by x_Lazart_x

(1/1 I 1,915 I General)

Stiles gets the idea that a book club would be just the thing to bring the pack together. What could possibly go wrong?

Peter Hale’s Lost Cat Rescue Service by bitchinachinashop

(1/1 I 823 I General)

Stiles comes to pick up his friend Mar for their birthday party, only to find them in tears! Their kitten is missing, and Stiles knows just the werewolf to ask for help.

Heart Vacancy by Rlewis93

(2/? I 2,927 I Teen)

“ I love you” He smiled at the younger man.

“ I love you too” Stiles Smiled back

And in the moment of bliss no one noticed the two softly glowing figures leaning into each other on the counter watching as their son enjoyed what will be one of the best moments of his life…

Professing His Intention by x_Lazart_x

(1/1 I 3,545 I Teen)

When their new DADA professor turns out to be a werewolf, Stiles is intrigued. Then he meets Peter Hale and falls head over heels and is determined to have him. Now if only Peter would co-operate with his plan.

Your Heart on Your Sleeve by cywscross

(1/1 I 9,176 I Teen)

Stiles is an empath, and it’s just his luck that he’s surrounded by broken people. Then again, it’s not like he has any room to talk either. Surprisingly enough, Peter helps, something neither of them realizes for a good long while.

Open Up the Gates of Hell and Roll Me Through by taylorpotato

(1/1 I 14,461 I Explicit)

Some people like punk music. Some people need it. Stiles clings to the comfort only Rancid and the Dead Kennedys can provide as he insists that he really is a boy. It’s everyone else that has it wrong, and they can fuck right off if they don’t want to believe him.

When a new underground venue opens in Beacon Hills, of course Stiles has to go check it out. In the mosh pit, he happens to meet the dude running the show. This Peter guy is, you know, a little older. But he’s still hot in a mild-creeper kind of way. Stiles may or may not invite him into the back of the Jeep for some ‘candid conversations’, once or twice (a week). Romance isn’t part of the plan. Then again, planning isn’t very punk.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

(23/23 I 65,669 I Not Rated)

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter’s just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

They found her in the woods. Part 3.

Thanks for all the love for this fic it seriously makes a huge difference. I really appreciate it. 

Previous parts

Tagging: @negans-network @i-am-negan-trash  @grab-my-boner @leahhpine @lovepizza-cake11 @negans-lil-bitch @you-just-got-jacknifed @thefelinemedia78 @maniclittlethings @illysamorgan @groovinontheinside @negansoutpost @trashcansideblog @justcallmemrsbarnes Just lemme know if you want to be added or removed.


By the time the busted up old pickup rolled down the road towards the sanctuary gates Simon was ready.

He had swapped out the guards on duty for Negan’s best shooters - most loyal ones too in case any of the other guards were in on whatever might be at play, the prisoners were back in their cells in case they took the chance to riot, Carson was prepped and ready behind closed doors for whatever might be thrown at him, he had doubled the guards on the wives and had a scout team keeping tabs on the truck so they could attack from behind if it all turned to shit. He hoped that he didn’t need any of it.

He knew Travis. They had gone on runs together in the past and while he wasn’t the most resourceful man Simon had ever met, he generally knew the score. Simon knew better than to underestimate people enough to take the risk, but he would be surprised if it really was foul play. 

Just that morning in fact, he had spoken to the younger man about picking up the slack. He seemed pretty determined that he and his boys would work harder. Happening to find Negan’s daughter the same day was a mighty coincidence to the point of suspicion, but picking up strays wasn’t exactly rare. If anyone was going to stumble across the boss’s daughter,  he was glad it was him. 

“Showtime people. Look alive.” Simon called to the saviours around him as the truck started passing by the wall of rotters. On his signal, the internal gates were pulled open and the truck came to a halt a few feet in front of him.

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Wham-Bam

Prompt: is it okay if I send a oneshot request to you? It would be Negan/Olivia, so if you don’t do that sort of thing, please tell me. – Requested by @ofdragonsanddreams16

Pairing: Negan x Olivia, Comic!Negan x Comic!Olivia

Word Count: 3,554

Type: One shot

Warnings: Smut, Negan being negan

Rating: NSFW

Notes: This is loosely based on the comic, so it’ll possibly contain spoilers if the show follows the comic. Also has some random quotes from the comic here and there, nothing in real canon form though.  

PS. I’m like fairly gay, so excuse my hetero smut. It isn’t my strong point, I’m more a f x f smut gal, but I tried. I hope you enjoy me awkwardly describing Negan’s dong. (PPS. i also didn’t really edit this, yolo. Sorry …)

Olivia tucked the key to Negan’s cell in her back pocket as she picked up the tray of food from the kitchen bench. Looking at the clock it was 7.15am, Negan’s usual breakfast time. She waltzed down the steps to his cell, being sure not to drop the bowl of instant oatmeal off the tray. Quickly she pushed the door open, seeing Negan sitting on the floor his back leant against the brick wall and feet resting on top of his small stool. He looked fresh, from the recent shave and haircut she had given him yesterday. His eyes met hers and a smile landed on his face, his pearly whites coming into view.

“Livvy! What’ve we got for breakfast this fine fuckin’ morning?” He chirped, overly happy for someone who has been locked in a small cell for over a year.

“I told you not to call me Livvy.” She said, a small smirk resting on her lips. “Oatmeal” She added.

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Daryl on a leadership arc?

I was working on another theory related to this one and it prompted me to consider some things that led to this theories creation. Basically I explored the idea of Daryl having a leadership arc and all the pieces that I think contribute to that and Beth is a huge part of that. This theory sort of got away from me and as a warning it’s quite long because it covers a lot of stuff over the course of multiple seasons. 

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The Kitchens - Ancient

So this is the first chapter of the ancient version of The Kitchens… not sure exactly what time period but some time in that kind of medieval high point of kings and queens. ENJOY!


Sirius set out for the West parlor, wondering if maybe he could sleep a while on one of the couches. His bare feet were cool against the July-warmed stone, even at night. He wished he could enjoy this more like he usually did, with the absence of prying eyes. But his head ached, spinning with thoughts of the ever-looming events that summer’s end promised. There were fall’s many festivals, hunting trips. And among these things, a bride. He’d be eighteen in November. He’d known what eighteen meant for as long as he could remember. It was inevitable, like a pressing weight on his chest. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head: Alliances are needed, Sirius. You’ll be a King one day and you’ll need a powerful Queen at your side. And besides, fall weddings are lucky.

Sirius rubbed at his eyes, huffing as he turned blindly into the room he knew to well, only to find it bathed in a soft warm glow. He let his hand drop to his side, taken off guard by the light-soaked walls, and he froze. Because there was a boy there. His heels were coming out of his shoes as he crouched over the softly roasting coals of the beginning of one of the Black castle’s many fires. Sirius realized he’d been standing there too long to make any sort of proper introduction too late.

Of all the words in his grand vocabulary, his mind decided to settle on, “Oh.”

The boy jumped. He went to stand up too fast and ended up thumping his head painfully against the brick under edge of the fireplace. Sirius cursed at the same time the boy did.

“Christ James, I told you to do the East Wing-“

The boy spoke at the same time that he turned. He cut off just as he saw Sirius.

“Oh.” He inhaled sharply, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, “My Lord. I didn’t realize…”

And Sirius watched it happen, just as it always did. He watched the boy’s back straighten, he watched the front go up.

Sirius huffed, annoyed. He made his way around the sofa slowly, fingers trailing against the plush fabric as he did, “Didn’t realize I’d be in my own castle?”

The boy frowned. He looked like he wanted to narrow his eyes but thought better of it, “Not at these hours. My Lord.” He added the last part hastily, half-heartedly, and a bit heatedly.

“I’d ask you the same question.” Sirius did narrow his eyes. He was allowed to.

The boy looked like he was biting his tongue before he spoke, “I was to light the fires this morning, my Lord.”

Sirius froze, expression flickering, “Morning?”

The boy glanced out the window briefly, “Morning, my Lord.”

Sirius followed his eyes, only to see that it was morning. He blinked at the dawning sky, the world still pink, and cleared his throat, “Oh.”

“Have-“ The boy hesitated until Sirius looked back at him. His expression slightly softer but guarded still, “have you been out all night? Around the castle? My Lord.”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed, rubbing his face, “You don’t have to add that after every sentence.” He pressed his thumbs into his eyes, as if trying to rub the fatigue out, before looking back at the boy. He had flour on his cheek, a bit of ash on his temple.

“Yes.” He looked back out the window, “I guess so.”

He didn’t think he’d been walking all night and yet there was the sun, peaking over the mountains.

The boy crouched down, scraping the iron fire poker back up and prodding at the coals with it, “Sometime on your mind, my Lord?”

Sirius jerked his head downward, “I said-“

But he stopped, words catching in his throat. He shouldn’t admit it, really he couldn’t admit it- not out loud anyways- but, now that he was looking, the boy was a bit of a beautiful sight. Maybe it was just the firelight, or lack of sleep, but the thought sprang to the front of Sirius’ mind so quickly he just… thought it.

He shifted, clearing his throat, “No.” He meant to turn away, maybe leave, but instead he sat down, “No. I simply lost track of time.”

The fire light made the boy’s eyes look like a a pot of melting amber when he turned towards Sirius, expression forwardly quizzical, “Yes, my Lord.”

Sirius frowned, “Do you not know my name?”

The boy raised an eye brow, “My Lord?”

“Do you not know my name.” Sirius repeated, “Is that why you refuse to use it, even upon my request?”

It was still quite dark, but Sirius could have sworn the boy flushed. He turned back to poking the fire.

“You know, you aren’t doing that right.”

The boy kept poking, not looking away, “I’m not usually in charge of the fires.” He mumbled.

Sirius leaned forward, “No, you see, they aren’t going to stay alight like that. Didn’t you- no, stop, stop.” Sirius swiftly moved to crouch next to the boy, putting his hand over his on the poker, “Watch. You need it to be…” He guided their hands to push the embers towards the center, “Like such. That way the smoke goes up and the heat goes out. See now?”

“I… Yes. How did you…”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “I’m royal, not helpless.”

“That’s not what Sam says.”

Sirius did his best to look aghast but it ended as more of a smile, “That’s how you address your superiors?”

The boy grinned, “A moment ago you were begging me to call you Sirius.”

Sirius turned sharply away from the coals, taken off guard. He tightened his grip on the iron. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard his name from a servant’s mouth before. Sam, his valet, called him Sirius. He had just never heard his name quite like that. Soft, gentile. The way this boy said it… it almost made him sound like a good person. The boy seemed to roll his eyes a little, surprising a smile.

“So the truth is out. You do know my name.”

He wrapped his arms around his knees, watching the coals. His sandy hair flopped nicely into his eyes, “Everyone in the world probably knows your name.”

Sirius laughed softly, “I think you’re sorely misjudging the size of the world.”

The boy looked at him, features extraordinarily soft in the firelight. Sirius’ heart caught.

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” He said quietly, “It isn’t like I’ve seen any of it.”

“S’not that great, really.” Sirius said softly. It was, but Sirius wasn’t about to say that. He cleared his throat instead, “Well, I should-“

He cut himself off again, this time with a curse. He tumbled back on his heels, the poker clattering to the floor, his left hand burning.

“Fuck-“ He unclenched his fist, seeing an angry red mark already forming across his knuckles.

The boy cursed, “Shit, the coals. I forgot to put the gate up- one rolled out- I- your highness-“

“I’m fine,” Sirius grit his teeth, trying his best to smile, “It’s just a little hot, I-“

“Oh come off it, that’s more than a little hot-” The second the words were out of the boy’s mouth his eyes were wide, “Oh god. I-“

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the your highness, at the horror on the boy’s face when he’d slipped and spoken to Sirius like a normal person.

The boy pressed his lips together, the hollows of his cheeks pink. He directed his gaze to Sirius’ injured hand, “We should really get something for that.”

Sirius nodded, “You can rouse Pomfrey for me?”

The boy stood, “I think I can help you, actually… if you like.” He offered Sirius a hesitant hand.

Sirius took it. He didn’t even think about it, he just let this boy pull him up, cradling his injured one to his chest, “I don’t even know your name.”

The boy arched an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can help either way.”

Sirius suppressed a smile, “You know mine.”

“Everyone knows yours.”

Sirius stood up ridiculously straight, holding his nose in the air accentuating his posh accent, “Sir, your prince is asking your name-”

The boy snorted, “Merlin, it’s Remus, it’s Remus.” He turned, leading the way out of the room, “Now stop that…”

“Like the myth?” Sirius followed him.

“What myth?”

“The Roman one. With the wolf.”

Remus glanced behind him, “What?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “Didn’t you learn it in school?”

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius fell into stride with him, “You’re assuming I went to school.”

Sirius’ steps faltered, “I- oh.”

“Not all of us grow up in castles, not to mention princes.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’ profile as they walked down the servant’s staircase. It was hard to read, “I didn’t mean any offense.” Sirius offered.

Remus sent him a small smile, “And yet…”

Sirius suddenly felt very aware of his words, his accent, even his attire, all in comparison to Remus. He felt overdressed in his maroon robe, the gold embroidery feeling flashy and unnecessary next to Remus’ plain white shirt, littered with stains from work.

Remus shook his head gently at him as they entered the kitchen, “I’m joking. It’s alright, you didn’t know,” he nodded towards the countertop, “sit there.”

Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck, “I suppose I should have known…” His eyes widened, “I mean-“

Remus rolled his eyes, “Sit.”

“-not that I would assume you didn’t have an education-“

Sit, Sirius.”

Sirius pushed himself up onto the counter, silently kicking himself. He watched wordlessly as Remus set ingredients out on the counter next to him. Honey, and a lemon.

“Well… this is odd.”

Remus looked at Sirius, “You’ve never seen this before?”

Sirius shook his head.

Remus smirked, slicing the lemon in half, “Well, you’re obviously not learning everything with that education of yours, are you?”

Sirius grinned back, relieved.

Remus held his palm out, “Give your hand here.”

Sirius glanced nervously at the lemon, “Won’t that hurt?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, reaching and grabbing Sirius’ injury for himself, “What do you think the honey’s for? It will only sting for a moment…”

He trailed off as he gently pressed the the cross section of the lemon across Sirius’ slightly blistered knuckles. Sirius hissed, then tried to turn it into a cough. He pointedly ignored Remus’ smirk.

Remus’ fingers were cool against the irritated skin around the burn, and Sirius drew his lip between his teeth as Remus carefully smeared a bit of honey over the aching cut. The thick paste relieved the throbbing to a duller pain.

“Merlin.”

Remus wiped his hands on a kitchen rag, “More useful than a Roman myth, huh?”

Sirius groaned, “I apologized.”

“Is that how world affairs are settled then? Apologies?” Remus smiled, producing a bandage from the same cupboard the honey had come from. His long fingers worked nimbly as he wraps Sirius’ hand.

“There. If it starts to hurt again, I- or I mean Madame Pomfrey can-“

“I’ll find you if it hurts.” Sirius said, sliding from the counter.

Remus nodded slowly, “Right.”

Sirius drummed his fingers on the countertop, looking down at Remus, “Right.”

Remus glanced around Sirius nervously, “People will probably be waking soon.”

Sirius nodded, although he hadn’t really heard what Remus had said. They were standing quite close, “Right…”

Remus seemed a bit breathless when he spoke again, “We have to prepare your breakfast…”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, “Do you prepare the breakfast?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, “I prepare your breakfast.”

Sirius smiled slowly, “Really?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder, “When you take it in your room at least. Which is-“

“-most days.” Sirius finished, laughing, “But how do you know?”

Remus shook his head, confused, “Know?”

“That I’m having it upstairs.”

Remus paused for a moment, as if waiting for Sirius to continue, or to laugh. Then his eyebrows raised very high to his hairline and he let out a burst of laughter, “Honestly?”

Sirius stepped back a step, “What?”

Remus shook his head again, reaching out and catching Sirius’ wrist either to keep himself steady in his laughter, or to keep Sirius from moving away, “No- No, I’m sorry,” he gasped, “It’s just… you really don’t know how we work down here, do you?”

Sirius shuffled uncomfortably, trying not to jostle his hand too much. He didn’t want Remus to let go, “Well…” He tried to think of some excuse, shrugging, “When I come down here everyone stops working to ask what I want!”

“They’re suppose to do that.” Remus points out.

“Yes, but that explains why I don’t know how it works!” Sirius spluttered.

Remus smiled, “Fine, fine… Lord, I’m sitting here arguing with a Prince… Sam tells me.”

Sirius, fully prepared for a defense again, deflated some, “Oh.” He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I guess I should have thought of that.”

Remus shrugged, eyes still teasing, “I guess.”

There was a creak from the floorboards above causing both boys to look up, then back down at each other. They were nearly nose to nose, and Sirius quite enjoyed that he had to look down a bit to meet Remus’ eyes.

“You need to go.”

“Kicking a royal out?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “You need to go your highness.”

He guided Sirius somewhat forcefully to the door as footsteps quickly approached the staircase.

“Hey.”

Remus froze in his act of shutting the door, only Sirius’ face visible from the other side.

“What?” He said impatiently.

“The eggs are always perfect.”

Sirius grinned at the eye roll he received before the door was shut in his face.

Drive Me Crazy

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Pairing: Klance (Keith/Lance)
Rating: General Audiences. Warning for cussing and pick-up lines.
Summary: Keith stared blankly at the tollbooth operator for a moment before trying to stifle a groan. Somehow, he always managed to get the booth with the flirtatious attendant, a lanky brown-haired man with clear blue eyes and a confident grin. It didn’t matter that he changed what lane he went through—at least three times a week on his way home from work, Keith was forced to suffer through the horrendous flirts that this man tossed his way.

Author’s Notes: ((Yes, I realize that the summary is like the first full paragraph, but it sums everything up quite nicely.))

This fic, just like my first Klance Finish What You Started, has a really strange story as inspiration. The full details are in the AO3 post, but let’s just say that there was a cute guy in a tollbooth and I had a brainchild.

Also on AO3.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

Keith stared blankly at the tollbooth operator for a moment before trying to stifle a groan. Somehow, he always managed to get the booth with the flirtatious attendant, a lanky brown-haired man with clear blue eyes and a confident grin. It didn’t matter that he changed what lane he went through—at least three times a week on his way home from work, Keith was forced to suffer through the horrendous flirts that this man tossed his way.

Instead of deigning to reply, Keith handed over his ticket, resolutely pressing his lips together. He had learned that this man, this LANCE, as his nametag proclaimed, would use any excuse to try to converse with him. He’d held up the line more times than Keith cared to count, and finally he decided to bear with it in silence. It made things move more quickly.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be coy,” Lance grinned, though he ran the ticket through so that Keith’s dues—$4.50—displayed on the little screen below the window. The same price as usual, which would explain why he was already offering exact change. Anything to get away from this window more quickly.

Still, he pressed his lips together. And finally, the blue-eyed tollbooth attendant sighed a little and opened the gate. Keith started to roll his window up, but he couldn’t block out the last line that Lance threw his way.

“You must be one hell of a thief, because you stole my heart through this window!”

Keep reading

3

Hello Sweetheart.

Summary - you are Carl’s girlfriend, you weren’t in the line up so didn’t know Negan and when he brings Carl back to Alexandria and finds you, let’s just say he gets more than a little interested in you.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of sex, angst, overprotective Carl.

Carl knew that his mission was suicide, he knew he didn’t think it through properly but when he realised it was far too late to turn back. All that was on his mind was you, when he pulled the trigger and gunned down two of Negan’s men he prayed you’d understand, no doubt Negan would torment your group about it later.

Rick had sent you on a long run before any of it happened, so you didn’t know that Glenn and Abraham were gone, you didn’t know that Negan had taken over, you didn’t know a thing. It was a month since you last saw Carl, and part of him was thankful for that, but the other part prayed you’d found something better so that you didn’t have to face the truth. Again,all that lingered in his mind as Negan drove the truck back to Alexandria was you, the grief that faced you once you walked through those gates. It was stupid if he said he wasn’t scared of the endless about of possibilities which came with you.

The trucks rolled up to the gates, the person behind them opening them immediately in hope to spare themselves from the bite of Lucille. Carl’s eyes land on a black pick up truck and his heart stops, it was yours, you had come back when he went away.

The people of Alexandria darted back into their homes as Carl and Negan stepped out of the truck, “Come on, kid,” he rests Lucille on his shoulder and heads towards Rick’s house, Negan looks around and comments on a few things before the sound of a door slamming catches his attention.

Not so far away, Carl sees you and he can tell that you’ve been crying but your face shows relief as your eyes connect. You skip down the steps of Carl’s home and sprint down the street, only stopping when you crash into his open arms, he holds you tightly before you pull away and connect your lips with such urgency it hurt, but Carl didn’t miss the dumbstruck look Negan gave the pair of you, “I couldn’t find you, I thought you’d died, where were you?” Carl looks at you in awe, your H/C hair had grown a lot since he’d seen you last, your eyes seemed to shine more in the light, and you were much more toned.

“He was with me,” Negan spoke, you turn your head before your body follows to see Negan staring down at you with lust lingering in behind his orbs.

A scoff leaves your lips as you examine him, and that bat, “Right, you must be Negan,” you state flatly, and Carl can see you eyes well up slightly as you remember what Olivia must have told you as soon as you’d returned to find no one around.

Negan gives you a smirk, “Hello sweetheart, and who the fuck are you?” He pauses and looks up and down, mentally undressing you, “I’d definitely remember a body like that,” he comments, you shoot Carl a look before turning to him again.

“Y/N,” you tell him calmly, your arms folded over your chest.

Negan steps forward, feeling the heated gaze of your boyfriend as he does, he removes Lucille from his shoulder and closes the space between you, “Well, Y/N, how the fuck would you like me to fuck your brains out?” Instantly, your hand raises and strikes his cheek, snapping his head to the side, you knew what he was capable of but you weren’t scared of him, “Wow, I’m about 50% more interested in you now,” he tells you huskily once he looks back at you.

Before you can register what’s happening, Carl has pulled you behind him protectively, covering your body with his own, “You don’t speak to her like that, ever,” he tells Negan sternly, your eyes grow wide as Negan stands up properly, towering over you.

“And who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” Negan swings his bat, stopping it just before your face, you didn’t flinch, “She’s got balls! You’ve done good kid, got a girl who can kick ass and look smokin’ at the same time,” Carl moves in front of you again, pushing Lucille away with his shoulder, “You do know she will give into me, don’t you? They always do, just you wait.”


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