spinning voices

The Wish Spell

Summary:  You use a spell to make a wish come true with unexpected results.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, OFC Sal

Word Count: 5772

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, language, fluff, wee bit of angst, mention of past abuse

A/N:  This one is close to my heart.  I hope you like it and I’d love to hear your feedback.  MAJOR shout out to the wonderful, lovely and helpful @wheresthekillswitch for being my beta on this.  There’s no way I would have achieved what I wanted without your help.  And thank you to the fantastic @arryn-nyxx for the beautiful aesthetic!​ Thank you!


 

You didn’t mean for it to happen, not really.  You’d hoped sure, but that didn’t mean you were actually expecting it to work.  You’d been out with your friends celebrating the long weekend but the pit of loneliness grew to a crater the moment you were home.  Since you’d had a few too many beers you started researching wishes.  That led you to spells and then before you knew it you were rummaging through your house for a candle and printing out a picture.  You wrote your name, birthday and wish on the picture then you folded it three times.  You lit a candle and held the paper over it till it caught fire and burned out.  You were tired of being alone, but you were also terrified to make a connection.  After the flame went out you curled up into bed and you dreamt of him, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary; you dreamt of him often.

The next morning you wake up and as you stretch your arms out you bump into something.  You shoot up and look over and there he is sitting on your bed his green eyes looking back at you.  Dean Winchester.  He’s leaning back on his hands with his long legs out in front of him.  He’s wearing a flannel shirt and jeans and he even has his boots on.  You sit staring at him unable to think or to speak.  He purses his full lips then smirks at you.

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anonymous asked:

More Vietnam AU please!!!

Vietnam AU

Claire blissfully settled back a bit on the bench, resting her head against the whitewashed siding of the barn, watching a red squirrel scamper through the clearing and chase a gray squirrel up a fir tree.

Jamie’s Fraser forebears had built a few stalls in the 1760s. Right after the main rooms of the Big House – Lallybroch, after the estate they’d lost in the Highlands following the disastrous ’45 Rising – had been completed. Governor William Tryon had given another James Fraser a spectacular land grant, which still formed the core of the family’s farm and landholdings. They had farmed this land – poured their blood and sweat into the dirt and trees and fields – for more than two centuries.

And prospered.

How she enjoyed just listening to Jamie’s rich, melodious voice spinning incredible tales of valor and love and sacrifice. Without breaking a beat, he handed her an apple from his rucksack – exchanging it for the remaining half of the roast beef sandwich Jenny had made him this morning – smiling at how she’d chewed around the tomato slices.

“Not a fan, hmm?” he teased.

Her teeth crunched around the apple. “Never liked them – too slimy.” Smiling.

“I’ll have to remember that, then.”

She didn’t think her heart could beat any faster.

“And then Simon Fraser, my grandfather, decided to expand the whisky operation – we still use the caves he carved out to age the bottles. Murtagh always talks about going more commercial, but I prefer keeping it all in the family.”

It had probably been several hours since they’d been able to stop just staring at each other, and Jamie had led Claire by the hand into the sunshine outside the barn.

Suddenly shy around each other, Claire had grasped at something – anything – to keep them talking.

“Tell me about your family?” she asked gently, gesturing toward a bench tucked against the side of the barn.

And then he’d laughed.

What she wouldn’t give to hear that every single day for the rest of her life.

“How many generations back?” he’d teased, eyes flashing. Still holding her hand.

“Your parents will do.” Her thumb caressed his injured hand. Carefully. Gently.

“Ach, no way! I’ll tell you the entire history of this place. It’s in my blood, you see?”

And it was – it clearly was. Never had she seen anyone so proud of his family – and what so many generations, united for the same purpose, had accomplished.

So they had spent the next several hours talking – and laughing – and genuinely getting to know each other for the first time. Jamie was a born storyteller – charming, witty. Flirtatious.

And as the hours passed – and they shared Jamie’s simple yet delicious lunch – they began to relax.

They did not discuss why Claire had come. What she had been doing. What Jamie had been doing, since they’d parted on the helicopter pad at Chu Lai.

That would come. But now – now they celebrated the simple fact that they were with each other again.

It was overwhelming. Claire had had weeks to mentally prepare – Jamie had had no notice.

“Don’t you have chores?” she asked after a while – now that lunch was over, Jamie’s rucksack tucked away, and their hands had found each other again. “Don’t you need to fix that saddle, or whatever you were doing when I interrupted you?”

He shrugged, eyes facing forward out into the forest. So quietly green and lush. The woods he had grown up in.

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore. You’re here.”

Claire pursed her lips – sensing an opening. She turned on the bench to face him directly.

As always – he was right there to meet her.

“What happens now, Jamie?”

He took her left hand between his, tracing his thumb around the base of her ring finger. Eyes strong on hers.

“Why have you come, Claire?” His voice was soft, vulnerable. “To tell me you’re well – or so that we could make a life together?”

“I’m not married anymore,” she breathed. “I went home to him, like you asked me to. It took me until Christmas to see him. And I told him we would move forward, as husband and wife.”

She closed her eyes – suddenly overcome with shame.

Jamie waited.

Patient.

Giving.

Tears trickled from her eyes. “He told me he had fallen in love with someone else – and that our marriage was over. He didn’t even want to try.”

A soft, soft touch on her cheek.

Jamie’s lips, kissing the tears away.

Kissing the apple of her cheek. Her nose. Her forehead.

Cherishing her.

Infusing her with strength.

She opened her eyes – and he was right there in front of her.

“We got an annulment. And I got into medical school, in Boston.”

Jamie had such a beautiful smile.

“And then I had a chance to come down to App State – to work with Dr. Beaton. I want to help people find their voices – to help them heal from tragedy and injury. To help them find themselves.”

She twined their fingers together.

“You have a knack for that, Claire,” he breathed. “You can do *anything* you set your mind to. Don’t you know that by now?”

He held her eyes. She felt invincible.

“I do,” she said after a long while. “I do.”

“Good. But Claire – you didn’t answer my question.”

She shifted a bit on the bench. “I don’t think it’s only my decision, Jamie – it’s yours as well.”

He licked his lips, dropping his gaze to his knees.

“My life is yours, Claire.”

She reeled back – stunned.

“I – Jamie, I – you can’t – ”

“Yes, I can. And I will. You saved my life, at Chu Lai. You restored me to myself. I owe you a debt. So it’s up to you to decide what we shall do – where we go next. My heart has been yours since the first time I saw you, and you’ve held and healed my soul and my body between your two hands – and kept them safe.”

None of this was real. Real people didn’t talk like this.

But Jamie was real, all right – more real than anything had ever been to her. More than Frank – more than school – more than anything else that had ever mattered in her life.

“Do you know what I was saying to you, all that time when I was locked in my mind? When my mouth couldn’t form the right words?”

He nudged his knee with hers, getting her to look up. To see the tears shining in his own eyes.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Tell me?”

He tilted his head. “I was telling you how beautiful you are. How you remind me of the fairy stories my Mam told me as a child – of the sorceress who bewitches the mighty warrior. The kelpie who comes from the sea to claim a human man as her love. The enchantress whom the brave hero is compelled to fall for.”

He took a deep breath. “And then I’d tell you of my home – of here, Lallybroch. And how I knew you’d fit right in to life here – how happy we would be here, together. Of the life we’d have, if things were different.”

Claire’s cheeks pinked at his words – at the praise she felt she did not deserve. “What do you mean, if things were different?”

“If I’d met you at a different time or place. If you weren’t married. If I could court you properly, the way you deserve.”

He straightened his back, licking his lips.

“So. I will ask you a third time, Claire. Why are you here?”

Preparing himself for anything – including rejection.

But those were words that would never fall from her lips.

The next words she had asked him so many times in her dreams. It was the most natural thing in the world.

“Will you have me?”

An extraordinary look of terror and joy and jubilation flashed across his face.

He grabbed her hands, kissing them feverishly.

“Yes,” he rasped. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

Future Hearts Pt.1 (M)

PT.1 | PT.2 | PT.3 | PT.4 | PT.5 |

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Punk!Jungkook

Word Count: 14,241 i’m so sorry

Description: It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

A/N: inspired by the anime/manga “Nana”

Originally posted by jen-kook

↠ we’ve got scars on our future hearts


The icy breeze whipped across your face as you started your approach towards the building. The speed of your heart was increasing with every step, your legs began to weigh you down like lead, and your breathing became harsh and ragged. Nerves were infecting your body, intensifying as you finally reached the automatic doors. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath before finally stepping forward. The doors opened for you, and the bustling Busan train station was revealed.

Noises echoed in every direction, you watched as people quickly rushed towards their trains, and you suddenly figured that you should do the same. You shook away your wonder as you started to go through bag check, but your eyes still manage to drift around the building that you remembered all too well.

It was quieter back then, or maybe it wasn’t. You might’ve just been so numbed by all of the pain you were feeling that you couldn’t sense anything else. Your eyes glide across the path that had been etched into your mind for the past year and a half.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I love you so much. I really fucking do.”

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@stardreamerlove sent me this amazing prompt for all injured paladins and no working pods and Lance ignoring his injuries to tend to the others until he collapses

Sorry this took so long, love!

It was becoming common knowledge amongst the paladins that they did not do as well in hand-to-hand combat as compared to fighting with their lions. However, in some cases, attacking on foot seemed like a better option than attacking with the lions. 

They had come across a small Galra base on an abandoned planet. They wanted to try and find out any plans for the main Galra ship, so they decided to attack on foot while the castle hovered nearby in case of necessary assistance.

They had plotted and planned for two days, but when the day to attack came, they had quickly realized that they severely underestimated the amount of Galra in the base.

The fight was brutal; there were Galra at every corner, but whether it was sheer force or will, the paladins somehow won– but not without injury. They, as well as the castle, took a severe beating, especially Lance.

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The Psychology of Logan

Logan is the perfect movie. If you have not seen it and have plans to, please, read no further. Stop right now. Go into the movie without any spoilers from me. Then by all means, come back and read.

If you have already seen it, or for some reason do not plan to see it and still want to read on, then you may proceed.

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Joint Custody

Summary: Reader and Bucky broke up, having to share time with their kid which ultimately brings them back together.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: just fluff (maybe a lil bit of arguing) but just fluff

A/N: I was just sitting down, doing my school work when this cute/funny idea popped in my head and I immediately wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget. Hope ya like it :) I’ll edit later my dudes.


It had been about 4 months since you and Bucky had broken up from a three year long relationship. It was a nasty argument about him not being home enough due to all the missions he’d been going on with the rest of the team. Then, the argument shifted from one problem to the next. You told him you hated when he didn’t wash a dish after using it, he told you he hated how you weren’t affectionate with him anymore to which you responded with “how am I supposed to be affectionate with you when you’re never home?”. The argument went on, touching different subjects until you called it off, Bucky agreeing and storming out.

The next day he came by and gathered his things, leaving to the Avengers Tower where he lives till this day. You two somehow agreed to joint custody with your son, Zeppelin. You would have him Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and Bucky had him Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Today was Saturday and you were headed to the Tower to hand over some paperwork to Steve and Tony. You knew you’d see Bucky there and you weren’t too thrilled at the thought.

You make it to the Tower and go straight into the conference room where you knew Tony and Steve would be. “Hey guys.” you smile.

The two men look up at the doorway and smile when seeing you.

“Hey Y/N.” Steve says, walking around the table and hugging you.

“Hi.”

“Wow, you look great.” Tony comments and you chuckle.

“It’s from sucking the souls out from my enemies.” you flip your hair over your shoulder, causing the two to laugh. “Anyways, I brought over the files you asked for. They were a little tricky to get ahold of but I got ‘em.”

“You’re a life saver.” Tony says, taking the folder from you and opening it.

“Mhm. I expect food as a token of your gratitude. Chinese is always good, or if you really wanna seal the deal, Olive Garden.” you say. “You both know where I live.”

And with that, you turn to the door, Tony and Steve saying goodbye. While making your way to the elevator, you pass the conjoined living room and kitchen, seeing Sam, Wanda, Nat and Clint. You make a U-turn and enter the room, smiling when Wanda spots you first.

“Y/N!” she shouts, rushing over to you and engulfing you in a hug.

“Hey Wanda.” you giggle.

“I haven’t seen you here in forever! Nat and I were just talking about going out for lunch today. Do you want to come?” she asked. You look over her shoulder and wave at Nat who got up and hugged you tightly.

“Uh.. Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing else to do.” you shrug. The girls cheer at your acceptance and you look over at Sam and Clint. “Hey guys.”

They greet you back and you were about to talk with them when you heard that all too familiar voice. Spinning around you see Bucky standing at the counter with Zeppelin standing next to him.

“Here you go buddy.” he murmurs, scooping some food onto a plate and placing it on the floor for Zeppelin to eat.

“What are you feeding my son, Bucky?” you spoke, walking closer to the two.

Bucky’s gaze shifts from Zeppelin to you and he pursed his lips. “Food and he’s our son, Y/N. Not just yours.”

“I sent over food with him.”

“Yeah and he didn’t like it.” the brunette argued.

“Bullshit. He eats it at home.” you respond. “Have you been feeding him human food every time he comes here?”

“He likes it.” Bucky folds his arms.

“Wait,” Clint whispers amongst Sam and the girls. “They have a son?”

“Mhm.” Sam nods.

“Zeppelin.” Nat confirms.

Clint quirks an eyebrow. “Zeppelin.. The dog?”

“Yep.” Wanda nods.

“They got a dog two years into their relationship and four months ago, when they broke up they decided on this joint custody thing.” Sam explained, all their eyes on you and Bucky.

“Y/N gets him Monday through Thursday and Bucky gets him Friday through Sunday.” Wanda adds.

Clint scoffed. “I really need to come visit more often.”

“I can’t believe you would do this.” you shake your head.

“It’s just human food Y/N, sorry that he doesn’t like the shitty dog food you buy him.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“He’s gonna get used to that and soon he’s not going to want the dog food anymore.” you sigh. “They make dog food for a reason - so that dogs can eat it.”

Bucky gasps. “Are you calling our son a dog?”

“He is a dog you gigantic idiot.”

Bucky kneels down to be leveled with Zeppelin who was done eating the food from the plate. “It’s okay, Z. Mommy’s just being a big meanie.” he says as he hugs the dog.

You sit on the floor. “And daddy’s being a dumbass because he’s feeding you junk food and you can get sick.”

Zeppelin pulls away from Bucky and turns to you, nudging your shoulder with his nose. He always did this when he wanted you to pet him. So you did.

Bucky glared at you. “I don’t always feed him junk food.”

“Oh really? Then please tell me what other foods you feed him that are healthy!” you respond.

“He likes carrots!”

“Oh! Thank god the only healthy food you give him is carrots!” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“He likes broccoli too - and raw eggs!” Bucky moves to a sitting position.

You look at him as if he’s gone mad. “Raw eggs!? Are you crazy Bucky? Zeppelin could get salmonella or E. coli!”

Bucky makes a face. “What the fuck is E. coli?”

You hug the dog. “It’s a bacterium that can cause serious infections.”

“Oh shit.” the soldier breathed. “Well good thing I’ve only given him eggs twice.”

“Today?” you snap and he glares at you even more. You look at Zeppelin a frown. “My poor baby. Maybe I should just take you home today.”

Zeppelin licks your face and barks happily.

“What? No! It’s my day to have him, you can’t just take him from me!” Bucky shouts and you roll your eyes, ignoring him.

Without you or Bucky noticing, Wanda, Nat, Sam and Clint left the kitchen, informing Steve and Tony who they bumped into, to not go in the kitchen because the two parents were arguing.

“I wouldn’t have to take him from you if we were still together.” you comment, keeping your eyes on Zeppelin as you spoke.

Bucky scoffed. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Shut up.” you hissed. There was a small moment of silence between the two of you as you sat on the floor with Zeppelin. You keep your eyes glued to the floor as you break that silence. “You didn’t even fight it. You just agreed and left.”

Bucky sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I thought that was what you wanted.”

“Obviously not. I still wanted to be with you.” you mutter, playing with Zeppelin’s fur.

Bucky exhales. “I miss you.”

“Oh really?” your eyes snap up at him. “Cause last time I checked you were using my son to pick up chicks.”

Our son.” he corrected for the second time. “And it was one time. The chick turned out to be boring as hell.”

You roll your eyes. “Because that makes the situation so much better.”

“Listen,” he sighs. “I know some of the things that I said were out of line and I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t talking about Zeppelin anymore.

“I’m sorry too.” you say. “I was being stupid. We fought over you not being home enough then it turned into more. The break up was my fault.”

“It was.” Bucky agrees, causing a sharp look from you. “But these past four months have made me realize that I really miss you. I miss you yelling at me for not washing dishes after I use them. I miss us folding clothes with each other.”

A smile finds its way to your lips. “We never got that done. We’d end up throwing the clothes at each other.”

Bucky laughs, remembering the moments. “I miss when we’d dance around the apartment in just our underwear.”

“We probably looked like idiots.” you giggle.

“Probably.” he nods. “But cute idiots.”

You smile - and there was that god damn moment of silence again. You think back to all the good times you’ve had with Bucky, remembering when you two first adopted Zeppelin and how happy the two of you were.

You knew Bucky tried his best to be home when he could. He loved coming home to you and Zeppelin. But sometimes missions didn’t go as planned and you knew that.

“And I know that Zeppelin misses us being together.” Bucky broke the silence.

“Yeah.” you say. “He still waits by the door for you to come home.”

“When he starts missing you I have to show him pictures of you.” Bucky spoke, scratching behind Zeppelin’s ear - his favorite spot.

You smirk. “You still have pictures of me?”

“Well yeah I-” he lets out a chuckle. “I don’t even have a reason to support that.”

The two of you watch as Zeppelin lays down in front of you on his side, whimpering and nudging you with his nose. You and Bucky laugh, scratching his side.

“Do you think Z wants his parents back together?” you question, looking at Zeppelin with a smile.

“I’d like to think he does.” Bucky nods.

“So we should.. You know.. Maybe get back together? For Zeppelin’s sake.” you look over at Bucky. He’s already looking at you.

“Yeah. No kid - or dog should grow up with their parents separated.” he nods.

You both stare at each other, eyes drifting down to each others lips a couple of times. You guys stop scratching Zeppelin, much to his dismay, and Bucky lunges at you. You fall back on the floor with him on top of you, lips attached to each others in a longing kiss. Your hands find their way to his hair and you thread your fingers through the silky locks.

Bucky lets out a groan. Oh how he missed kissing you. It was interrupted all too soon by Zeppelin who tried squeezing his way between the two of you, thinking that you guys were playing around. You and Bucky pull away and turn to Zeppelin who licked your face then Bucky’s before barking. Laughing, Bucky ruffled his fur before standing up, helping you as well.

“So.. Are we back together?” he breathed out.

“Yeah.. Are you going to move back in with me?”

“I think it would be best. For Zeppelin.” Bucky nodded.

“For Zeppelin.” you repeat.

Again, you two stare at each other before your lips were on his in another kiss and again Zeppelin got excited and jumped up, barking. The two of you pull away and Bucky scoffed.

“This damn dog is a cock block.” he huffed.

You laugh and look down at Zeppelin who stared up at you and Bucky.

“Did you just call our son a dog?” you gasp.

Bucky playfully rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Lets go home.”

“What about your stuff?” you question.

“We’ll get it tomorrow. I just wanna be with you tonight.” he hummed, kissing your cheek. Zeppelin barked. “And Zeppelin too.”


A/N: Why am I so bad at endings?? Anyways, tell me what ya think! :)

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Understudy - Jasmine Cephas Jones x Reader

Summary: Based on a request I received, reader is the first female to play Alexander Hamilton, but is an understudy. Lin gets sick, giving Jasmine a great opportunity to make her feelings obvious to the protagonist.  

Warnings: Few swear words, allusion to smut. 

Word Count: 2,315 (I planned this way shorter and it just EXPLODED)

Request: @lawnmowerswig - Okay so I know I just gave you a prompt a little while ago (and it was amazing btw. You’re great man!!) but like Jasmine man.. Where like a girl plays Hamilton for the night and they kiss and it leads to more and ends with like half naked cuddles???

A/N: Okay so I SUCK majorly because I haven’t posted in forever because my writer’s block has been absolutely killing me, but here is me delivering on a request that I got embarrassingly long ago, I am so sorry it took me so long. This helped me push past my lack of inspo, so I’m ready for the Hamwriters Write-A-Thon! 

askbox | masterlist


The truth is, it was hard being Alexander Hamilton. Actually, to be more specific; it was hard to be the first female playing Alexander Hamilton. The idea itself had been a rock thrown into a pool of still water; plenty of ripples were created. The enthusiastic fanbase that had grown into a cult following of the musical had mixed feelings about this. Some were ecstatic. Others were less impressed.

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Dreams Become Reality

Anonymous asked: Oh lovely Meg! Can i please request a SPN fic? TFW and Crowley get sent to an alternate universe where monsters don’t really exist(so Crowley and Cas are human). In this universe, Crowley is married to the reader, Sam &Dean’s sister, and they have kids. The whole apple pie life and Crowley realizes that’s exactly what he wants. When they return to reality, Crowley finds the reader and just plants one on her.

Here is your one-shot, lovely! I do not own Team Free Will or Crowley. They being to the creators of Supernatural. 

Warnings: Mentions of breastfeeding, if you consider that a trigger, mentions of blood. Fluff and it’s a bit long. 

Pairings: Crowley x fem!Winchester reader, Team Free Will. 

Originally posted by supernaturaldaily

“Uh guys? Where are we?” Sam asked, effectively cutting off the argument between Dean and Crowley. Castiel was already following Sam’s gaze up to the rather expansive house in front of them. “It appears as though we have been transported somewhere else,” Castiel said. He was right. A few moments before, the four of them had been in a warehouse trying to work out a deal. Now, they were standing outside the very lavish estate.

               "What does it bloody matter where we are? Between Wings and I, we should have enough power to get back.“ Castiel nodded in agreement. Crowley raised his hand to snap his fingers, but nothing happened. "Well come on, Crowley. What’s the hold up?” The King of Hell tried again, snapping his fingers to no avail.  "Castiel?“ Castiel’s brow was furrowed in confusion. "I appear to be powerless,” he said before wandering off a little ways. The Winchesters exchanged a glance.

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Three Little Words

“Meet my family” Those three small words had thrown your mind into a tizzy, their implications huge, knowing how much Tommy valued his family and their privacy. You sat nervously in the back of the car, fussing with the hem of your dress, a light chiffon day dress, perfect for the informal picnic that Ada had no doubt planned for the group. Your mind continued to race, thinking back to the moment he’d said those three words, his crystalline eyes showing a speck of vulnerability, a chink in his armour, the crack in his ever composed exterior. This was it, this was his way of saying I love you without uttering those three impossibly heavy words.

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Shape of You - Jack Maynard Imagine

Summary: Jack and Y/N have known each other forever and have liked each other for almost as long, yet refuse to admit it to each other. One night at a club forces them to confront everything.

Word Count: 3,078

Trigger Warnings: slight sexual harrassment, slight bullying/teasing

Author’s Note: so I haven’t posted any fanfic on here in almost five years, so please be kind and please please give me feedback! I love getting constructive criticism about my writing. Also send in requests if you have them!

Originally posted by hidden-in-a-dreams-gifs


For as long as you could remember, Jack Maynard had been in your life in one form or another. He always seemed to be around and as such, many of your childhood memories featured him and his older brother, alongside your favourite cousins. 

The Maynard Brothers had grown up across the road from your cousins growing up and always seemed to be there the same time that you were. With only an older brother who was more than ten years your senior, you spent most of your time with your cousins and they were more like siblings than cousins when you were growing up.

All of your important memories had him in it. When you broke your wrist when you were seven – Jack was the one who’d pushed you. All your birthdays and family barbeques – Jack was there pranking you with your cousins. You went to the same school and somehow wound up becoming friends with the same people. 

Basically, Jack was a part of your life as much as your cousins were. Your mother loved to tease you growing up that one day you’d fall in love with Jack and live happily ever after. The thought repulsed you - as if you would want to be stuck with the slimy little git for the rest of your life!It wasn’t until you got to secondary school that things started to get complicated. 

Jack and your youngest cousin were in the year above you, while his older brother, Conor, and your oldest cousin were two years above them. You all went to a large secondary school outside of Brighton, and you rarely saw the four of them during school hours. 

For the first time in your life, the older kids didn’t overshadow you and you started to become your own person.You still saw all of them every weekend, still had family celebrations and barbeques together and did the same things that you always had done. Jack and Conor were still the dumb boys across the road who hadn’t quite discovered the magic of personal hygiene quite yet. Your mother still teased you about the only reason that bothered you was because you liked one of them. You still thought she was delusional. Why on earth would any sane girl want to be with a boy who didn’t know what deodorant was? At that point in your life, you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone as much as you loved Nick Jonas.

Until one day, when you overheard one of the girls in your year boasting about having hooked up with Jack at a party. She was sprouting to a group of girls in your class about Jack’s magical tongue, and you couldn’t help but dry retch in response. Even though you were on opposite sides of the room, she seemed to have heard you, and loudly whispered to the group how some people were just so jealous of others.

You didn’t bother trying to conceal your snort this time, you shook your head slightly as you rolled your eyes. You? Jealous of her kissing Jack Maynard? Not in a million years. It wasn’t like he’d actually keep her around. Jack kissed girls all the time, you heard as much from your cousin, you could only guess that he’d already made it through all the girls in his own year who would kiss him, so he’d had to resort to the desperate girls in your year instead.

You had no way of knowing then, that he actually would keep her around. Suddenly she was there at all of your family get-togethers, and Jack was never there on the weekends. It bothered you and you hadn’t a clue as to why. Why should you care if he wasn’t there? All he did was tease you about tripping over and try and pull on your hair.

You tried to talk to your mum about it, and that went about as well as you should have expected.

“I just don’t get him! He’s known her for two minutes and now it’s like she’s part of the family! They’re always groping each other and sticking their tongues down each other’s throats, it’s so gross! Does she know that he only figured out what deodorant was like last week?” You groaned to her in the kitchen during a family barbeque, leaning against the counter while she made a cup of tea.

“Sounds like somebody is jealous …” she said in a sing-song voice, a delighted smile lighting up her entire face, “Oh honey, it’s about time you realised how much you like him!” she grinned, laughing at the horrified look of disgust on your face.

“Just look at him normally for once, okay? Come over here and look!” She waved you over to the kitchen window, sighing in annoyance when you didn’t move, “Humour me for once,” she directed you, smiling appreciatively when you dragged yourself over to her side.

The kitchen window was quite large and gave a very clear view of your backyard. You could see Conor and your younger cousins engaged in some sort of water fight, all of your parents gathered around on the patio laughing at something your dad was saying, and then there was Jack and her. They were cuddled up near a tree at the very back of the garden.

When had Jack gotten so tall? You had always been taller than him, for your entire life, yet now he was standing against that tree and was a good head taller than a branch you knew you had hit your head on only this morning. The more than you looked at him, you noticed other things. Gone was the scrawny little shit who had tormented you as a kid; he still wasn’t ridiculously big but he actually looked like a man, not a little boy. Had his teeth always been that white? And since when had simply looking at him made your stomach roll? Was it possible that your mother was right?

Your eyes darted across the yard to where Conor was, another smile spreading across your face when you noticed him sitting down next to your cousin, who had previously been sunbathing near the pool. You’d always thought they would make a lovely couple, why couldn’t they see it when everyone else could tell they were into each other? It was so frustrating!

Suddenly a pair of fingers dug into your waist, making you jump and gasp as you banged your knee on the cupboard door. Spinning around, you noticed that your mother was gone, and instead, Jack was in front of you with a smug smirk on his face, when had he gotten here?

“You’re so easy to scare!” he chortled, bracing his hands on his knees as he laughed at your expense. You scowled at him, shoving his shoulder roughly in irritation. “What are you staring so hard at anyway?” he asked as you both looked out the window again.

“Conor and [Y/C/N],” You answered him simply, “Wondering when they’re gonna buck up and admit that they like each other,” you continued, peeking at Jack out of the corner of your eye and marvelling at how sharp his jawline was, surely that wasn’t normal, right? That thing could cut glass!

Jack snorted at your answer, “It’s Conor, he’s a little pussy, he’ll never tell her unless he knows for sure that she likes him back, it’s simple self-preservation,” he stated, narrowing his eyes when you let out a snort of your own.

“Must be a Maynard thing then, being a pussy,” you smirked at the offended look on his face, “Conor’s been in the pants of half the girls in Brighton, how on earth is [Y/C/N] meant to know she won’t just be another notch in his bedpost?” you argued back.

Jack rolled his eyes as he turned to face you; crossing his arms across his chest and making you wonder where in the hell those biceps had come from. “Maynard’s aren’t pussies! If anything [Y/L/N]’s are pussies! I don’t see you or [Y/C/N] with boyfriends, now do you?” he snarled at you, reminding you of the mean streak of his that often reared it’s head whenever he got agitated. “Perfect little virgin [Y/N] on her high horse can’t even get a boyfriend,” he sneered at you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you scoffed at him, letting out a loud bark of laughter, “Why would you think that I need a boyfriend in order to not be a virgin, Jack?” you goaded him in a sickly sweet tone of voice, before spinning on your heel and retreating to the bathroom upstairs, leaving a slack-jawed Jack Maynard in your wake.

Once you were safely in your en suite bathroom, you felt a couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, splashing against the ivory rim of the sink. You wiped them away quickly, glaring at your reflection in the mirror in a silent argument to toughen up and brush it off. 

Jack was still the same boy who delighted in tormenting you, and that would never change.You weren’t about the melt into one of the girls who fawned over him; you were better than that. If he wanted to pretend you weren’t there when he saw you then fine, there were way cuter boys in your year anyway, you resolved with a smile as you flounced out of your bathroom.

If only you actually believed that was true.

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Fast forward another few years and you could scarcely believe the way in which your life had changed. 

Instead of spending your lunches daydreaming about getting out of Brighton, you were living in a flat in London with your cousin and attending the university course of your dreams. 

Jack and Conor had devoted their time and lives to youtube and it had really paid off for them. You had gained five new friends through knowing the Maynards and could scarcely imagine your life without them. 
There were some things that would never change, though; after a brutal break up two years ago, Jack had sworn off relationships and become the same player that Conor had been through school. Conor still wouldn’t admit that he was in love with [Y/C/N] and vice versa. And you were still trying to convince yourself that you didn’t have a thing for Jack Maynard.

Over the years you had tried to forget about him, tried to bury the feelings deep down in your chest. No matter what you heard from your friends or your mum, you refused to believe that the feelings might actually have been reciprocated and that there could have been a chance for you and Jack. You had come to really value Jack as a friend and him finding out that you harboured some dorky crush on him was your actual worst fear. Things were fine the way they were. 

Your cousin was always trying to set you up on blind dates so one of them had to work out eventually, right?

Tonight was one such night. Your cousin had set you up with one of her work friends and at first things had been fine; the guy, who kind of reminded you of Mikey, had been nice enough initially, complementing you on your outfit and offering to buy you a drink yet not pushing you when you refused, you weren’t particularly attracted to him but you entertained him in order to make [Y/C/N] happy and to get her off your back about telling Jack how you felt. Things had been going fine.

That was until you had run into Conor and Josh, and your ‘date’ had lashed out, telling them to fuck off and leave you both alone. You had been trying to pull away but his grip on your wrist was too tight and you could only imagine the marks that his beefy hands would be leaving around your wrist. 

He dragged you out into the middle of the dance floor, moving his hands to your waist and digging his fingers in, pulling you up against him and grinding against you. You could feel the revulsion rolling off of you in waves as he panted against your neck. You wanted to cry, or scream or beat him off you but you were trapped and you couldn’t see anyone you knew anymore. You just hoped that Conor or Josh would pass by again so you could latch onto them.

On the other side of the club, unbeknownst to you, Conor had instructed Josh to keep an eye on you whilst he stepped into the smokers area to call his little brother. As much as Conor wanted to rip that guy’s arms out of the sockets, he knew that this was something that Jack needed to do and see. He was so sick and tired of watching you and Jack dance around your feelings and he felt that this might be the very thing Jack needed to push him over the edge. Jack had opted to stay home tonight, instead of coming out with them, so he was probably watching the football in his underwear again or something.

“Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up,” Conor grumbled under his voice as he listened to the phone ringing out, if Jack had called up one of his booty calls after the very serious conversation they’d had this afternoon, he would actually deck his little brother. His shoulders visibly sagged in relief when Jack’s voice came down the line.

“Struck out already have you?” he chuckled, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he searched through the fridge for something to eat, he was kind of regretting his decision to stay home now so a call from Conor had raised his spirits significantly. 

“You’ve gotta come here mate, right now. It’s [Y/N],” Conor rushed out, realising with a start that a number of things could have happened in his absence, he just hoped that Josh would step in if things escalated too far. Jack would never forgive them if anything happened to you. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the phone call, Jack was already shoving his feet into his shoes and shrugging his jacket on while still listening to Conor.

“Where are you? What’s going on? Is she alright?” he rushed out as he grabbed his keys and wallet, shoving them into his pocket as he ran down the stairs two at a time. “Text me what club your at and just keep your eye on her okay? If anything happens to her, it’s your funeral, Conor,” he stressed to his older brother, already in the middle of ordering an Uber to pick him up. 

Conor sighed softly as he got off the phone, running a hand through his hair before turning to walk back in the bar, praying to god that Jack was here quickly.

You, on the other hand, were running out of options. You couldn’t see Conor or Josh or any of your friends and the crowd around you seemed to be multiplying by the second. You could feel the guy behind you dragging his mouth down your neck painfully and rubbing his crotch against your ass roughly. You could feel tears pricking at the edge of your eyes as it occurred to you that you might have to leave with this guy. All you could do was think of Jack, and how you wished that it was him instead of the thug behind you.

“Oi Luv, whattaya say we take off back to my place and have some real fun,” he groaned in your ear in what you were sure he thought was a sexy manner but just made him sound like he was constipated. Your heart started thumping in your chest as you tried to think of a way out of this and failed to find one.

“Mate you are punching so far above your weight it’s not funny,” you heard a voice behind you and nearly collapsed in pure joy and relief. The man behind you released you from his grip and you stumbled slightly, peeking around him to see Jack standing before you both with a confident grin on his face.

Before you could think or reconsider your actions, you were pushing past the man who’d had you in a death grip for the past hour and standing close to Jack. 

He looked at you worriedly, reaching up and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear gently as he looked you over, “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked in the gentlest voice you’d ever heard him use. You almost melted at the soft tone of his voice and the gentleness of his actions, nodding slightly and smiling at him appreciatively. 

The hand that had been behind your ear slipped down to the small of your back, almost the same place the other man’s hands were before, except this time in filled you with comfort instead of revulsion.

Pulling you in front of him, Jack led you out of the club and onto the sidewalk, you were sure you looked a mess, the result of being stuck in that man’s grip for almost two hours. 

Once you were outside, you could finally breathe, and that was when everything hit you all at once, all the emotions and what if’s hit you like a freight train, causing you to turn around and hug Jack as tight as you possibly could. 

Your entire body shook as you hugged him tightly, feeling a wave of relief and safety roll over you violently as he held you close to him just as hard.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay, [Y/N], everything’s fine, I’ve got you, baby,” he cooed in your ear as his hand ran up and down the length of your back softly, smoothing down your hair as you both stood near where the Uber was due to pick you up.

He was so glad he had got there when he did, seeing you so scared and so powerless had been like a bullet to the chest; he wasn’t used to seeing you that way and he didn’t like it. He had wanted to rip the man to shreds and probably would have, but then he saw how relieved you were, and the other man vanished. 

He knew that he didn’t want to have to ever worry about another man having his hands on you again, and he would tell you how he felt; but not tonight, tonight he just needed to be here for you and comfort you.   


Strongly considering maybe doing a part two to this? Let me know if you want one


A Way To A Man’s Heart Is...

 Prompt: In which Y/N has feelings for an oblivious Lin. Told in interconnected time-lapses.

Pairing: Lin x Reader


A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

“Hey! That’s not for you!”

Groff freezes, the cupcake halfway in his mouth. “Wha?” he mumbles, blinking owlishly at you.

You stomp into the dressing room, closing the white pastry box containing the cupcakes that you’ve spent all of last night baking.  A couple nights ago, Lin was bemoaning the fact that his favorite bakery had closed down for the week. He was boasting about their cupcakes and how it was the best thing he’s ever tasted. Being the love-struck fool you were, you decided to give your dear mother a call and ask for the red velvet cupcake recipe that she was known for. You made everything from scratch, meticulously following the recipe that your mother had given to you.

Groff rolls his eyes once he realizes what you meant. “Why don’t you just tell him?” he hums, grinning as his gaze shifted onto something over your shoulder.

“Tell who what?”

Lin’s voice fills the air, causing you to squeak and spin around to face him.

“Nothing,” you remark, causing Groff to snicker behind you.

“Y/N made cupcakes just for you,” Groff announces, brushing past you as he left the room, finishing off the cupcake he stole from the box.

You gulp as Lin peers at the cupcakes.

“Y-You made this for me, Y/N?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

“Wow, thank you,” he breathes, surprised. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s alright, I wanted to,” you reply, locking eyes with him. You silently begged him to ask you why you did it for him. Then perhaps, you’d finally have the courage to confess your feelings for the thick-skinned man that stood in front of you.

For the last six months, your attraction towards Lin had grown exponentially. He was just so full of life, laughter, and love. You didn’t even think such a person could exist! You thought it was all some type of facade, that there was no way that someone could be so genuine with all the exposure that he’s gotten from Hamilton. But time and time again, he’s proved you wrong. And each time, you felt yourself give a little piece of your heart to him, regardless of his acceptance or denial of it.

You were smitten and it was so painstakingly apparent for everyone else except for Lin himself. You were never the best with words, but you weren’t shy either. You hoped that giving extra and special attention to Lin would at least give him a hint. But no, being the pure-hearted being he was, he didn’t.

Or maybe he did know but didn’t feel the same way. He was too damn nice to turn you down. The thought made you sad, but you couldn’t control a person’s feelings. You completely understood that, remembering your failed attempt to bottle up your feelings for Lin. However, if he did verbally let you down, maybe you’d finally be able to move forward and let go.

“O-Oh… Well thank you,” he says after a pause. His eyes dart back to the box, effectively breaking eye contact with you and making the atmosphere awkward.

With a small sigh, you turn to walk out of his dressing room. “Let me know how you like them,” you call over your shoulder before you leave, the feeling of rejection wash over you.

A way to a man’s heart is to make room for his friends.

“Y/N!”

The chorus of your name brings a smile to your face. You squeezed into the booth next to Groff, who gives you a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You wipe it away dramatically, but then give him a tight hug. Tonight was your weekly date night with the ensemble, the Hors d'oeuvres and drinks scattered all over the table was a familiar sight.

You had to admit, you didn’t expect to become fast friends with anyone.  You were just an Usher for the Richard Rodgers Theatre, a part-time job that helped you pocket extra money at the end of the month. One day, Lin ordered catering for the theatre personnel as a show of thanks for allowing him to remove guests that decided to record the performance during the show. Surprisingly, he emerged from backstage and joined the staff for lunch. You nearly dropped the sandwich you were holding when he plopped down on the seat next to you, star struck that the genius behind the show was actually talking to you.

Slowly, the rest of the ensemble began to trickle in, joining everyone else for lunch. You had an instant connection with Groff, adoring his teasing yet friendly behavior. Both he and Lin introduced you to everyone else and then the rest was history…

You looked around the table, smiling at the faces you’ve come to love and consider as your second family.

Anthony, who noticed and misinterpreted the gesture, gave you a sly look. “Don’t worry, Lin’s on his way, Y/N.”

Everyone who sat at the table roared with laughter.

As if on cue, Lin appeared. You pushed Groff closer to Leslie and ignored the knowing looks that they both shot you. You notice that he wavers, eyeing the space next to Chris who sat opposite of you, before succumbing and finally sitting down next to you.

Seeing him hesitate dampened your mood. Maybe he really was too nice to reject you.

You glance at Anthony, who raised his glass, tipped it towards you, and winked.

You couldn’t help but feel better at his pained yelp when you kicked him under the table.

A way to a man’s heart is to make space for his family.

A middle-aged man stood in the gift shop of the theatre, pondering on whether not to buy the mugs on the table.

You glanced at your watch. It was almost time for the show to begin and you’d hate for him to miss the memorable introduction that King George III had. You walked up to him, offering him a kind smile when he looked at you. “Good evening. The show is about to start, so if you’d like, I can show you your seat.”

The man, who had shoulder length silvery-white hair, inspected your nametag, before nodding in agreement. You lead him to his seat, and then assume your position at the back of the theatre, allowing yourself to enjoy the show.

Three and a half hours later, you run into the man backstage. “Oh, hello!” you greet, waving at him. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, very much. I’m very proud of Lin,” he says, smiling.

You couldn’t help but tilt your head, observing his smile. You’ve seen that smile before. And his voice, it was strangely familiar. It reminded you of…

“Papa!” Lin swoops in, enveloping his father in a hug.

Then it clicks.

You inwardly gasp.

His father! It was Lin’s father.

“Oh! Mr. Miranda!” you exclaim, feeling heat spread across your cheeks for not noticing the resemblances earlier.

Lin pulls back from his father and looks at you with a quirked brow. “You’ve met?”

You sheepishly laugh. “I thought he was a normal theatre-goer, so I showed him to his seat,” you mumble.

Luis laughs, the booming sound startling you. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N.”

You and Lin sputter at the same time.

Luis ignores the both of you and instead pushes the still stammering Lin to stand next to you. He lifts his phone and snaps a quick picture.

“Papa,” Lin warns before saying something in Spanish.

Luis rolls his eyes and motions the two of you to stand closer. “Say cheese,” he sings.

Bewildered, you follow his command. Lin does the same.

After the picture, the two men have a conversation in rapid Spanish, causing your head to spin. Lin’s voice had a desperate tone to it. Meanwhile, Luis seemed amused.

“If you’d excuse us, Y/N,” Lin sighed, exasperated, before wrapping an arm around his father’s shoulders and leading him towards the stage.

Luis struggles in his son’s arms as he turns around to say something to you. “It was nice to finally meet you, Y/N!”

A way to a man’s heart is to show vulnerability.

Anthony insisted on going to a new bar he discovered for the date night with the cast and crew.

Everyone, yourself included, approved of the choice. Unlike most bars, there were no rowdy college students or suspicious patrons. Every once and a while, people recognized the cast and asked for pictures. Overall, the ambiance of the bar was cozy.

Lin was at the bar by himself, volunteering to get the second round of drinks.

Your breath hitched as you watched a woman slip a piece of paper into Lin’s pocket, before strutting back to her table where her giggling friends watched the whole exchange.

Lin falters before retrieving the piece of paper that you knew had the woman’s phone number written on it. You expected him to throw it away, but to your disbelief, he puts it back in his pocket.

There.

That was the rejection that you needed.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur.

Lin, who sat next to you, gently nudges your side when he noticed how quiet you were. “You okay?”

You give him a weak smile, heart hurting as you looked at him. “I will be.”

A way to a man’s heart is through communication.

You avoided Lin all week.

You ignored everyone’s questioning stares when you didn’t sit next to Lin during the dinner dates. You lied through your teeth when they asked you if something was wrong. You didn’t even flinch when they teased you about your feelings for Lin.

It was one of the meet-and-greet nights, where high school students had the opportunity to stay after the show and talk to the cast and crew. You, along with security, were in charge of making sure things didn’t get too rowdy. As always, Lin was animatedly talking to a group of students that were completely under his spell.

You didn’t notice Luis sneaking up beside you until he spoke.

“Y/N, my son’s been moody every day this whole week.”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes, remaining silent.

Luis toys with the headphones in his hands. “You know, the only time he’s ever like this is because of a woman.”

A woman? The woman from the bar? You bite your bottom lip. Were they having issues?

“Lin’s never been the best with women. He’s always self-conscious and second guesses himself,” he continues in spite of your silence, “Especially when it comes to a beautiful woman who he thinks is beyond his league.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“Not only that, but Lin almost bit my head off when I ate the last piece of red velvet cupcake in his apartment today,” he starts, “I’ve never seen him so angry over pastries.”

You turn towards him, having enough of the cryptic stories. “With all due respect, Mr. Miranda, but what the hell are you going on about?”

“Y/N, I see the way you look at Lin. My son tells me everything, and I assure you, he absolutely adores you too.”

You were stunned.

“What?” you say stupidly.

It seemed like that was currently the only word in your vocabulary.

“He’s been talking about you non-stop. I knew so much about you before I even met you,” Luis says, “But for the first time in six months he’s stopped. What happened?”

You squirm under his scrutinizing stare, afraid to lie to him. “I-I thought he met someone else. Some woman gave him her number and I saw him keep it. He doesn’t like me.”

Luis shakes his head. “If there’s one thing you need to know about relationships, Miss Y/N, is that communication is the key to a successful one.”

“Communication?” you repeat.

“It prevents all of this heartache,” he explains, “End the misery and tell him how you feel.”

“But he doesn’t like me,” you protest.

He snorts. “I beg to differ. The boy doesn’t even like red velvet cupcakes. He only ate them because you made them.”

You stay silent, soaking in everything that he’s said.

He made a satisfied sound at your silence and pats your shoulder before walking away.

A way to a man’s heart is…

Lin jumped in his seat when the door to his dressing room was whipped open.

Y/N, eyes glinting with determination, purposely walked to him.

He had a feeling that she was going to yell at him. He’s been picking his brain all week, trying to figure out what he did to make her so angry. He was prepared for the verbal onslaught. He’ll take anything she gave him, just as long as he was forgiven for whatever the hell he did. He was so lonely without her presence in his life. It was driving him insane.

“You. Me. Dinner after the show tomorrow night.” She grits out, hands clenched tightly as she waited for his response.

Lin felt all the oxygen leave his body. The girl that was way out of his league, liked him. The girl that has him reduced to a stuttering mess by just one look, liked him. The girl who he tried not to overthink every little thing she did for him, liked him.

“I-It’s a date,” Lin affirms.

Y/N’s determined behavior wavers, but she straightens herself up and gives him a glare.

“I’ll make sure to make those red velvet cupcakes that you love so much,” she harrumphs, stomping back out of his dressing room, leaving a laughing Lin in her wake.

He’d have to thank his meddling Father later.

[SONGS Spin-off]  Kinki x Arashi Cut

I love how calm & heartwarming the atmosphere is even though their rehearsal schedule is quite strict. But at the end, it’s all for the old time sake. (´ω`) 

Other part:
- Kinki Kids Interview: Talking about Each Other Cut
- Kinki x TOKIO Cut

calfreezy imagine: when anxiety attacks

REQUESTED:   ‘Hello! Can you please write an imagine where the reader and the SDMN and friends go to an amusement park and everyone has ridden the scariest ride and they want her to go but she’s deathly afraid of that kind of stuff but the guys kind of pressure her and she has a panic attack and calfreezy helps her through it? Hope this isn’t too specific!’

I looked down at my feet, playing with my fingers. 

“You alright?” Cal asked, placing an arm around my shoulder. I nodded, forcing a smile, although I wasn’t quite sure it had reached my eyes. He gave me a questioning look however he did not press, only sending me a smile before turning back to talk to the boys. I watched the sights around me; rollercoasters, busy crowds, loud noise. Thorpe park, to me, was my personal idea of hell. It was as if somebody had taken all of my triggers and just put them into one large place, releasing my anxiety into the open air. 

Of course I didn’t tell Cal, or the other boys, this. They love this place: it’s a second home to them, prioritised over nandos even. The one thing worse than being restricted by your anxiety is letting your anxiety restrict other people, and I refused to let Cal miss an opportunity for me. 

“Oiiii! Mad.” 

The boys all stopped to a halt, bringing me out of my thought process and back into the real world. We all looked up at the same spot. 

“That’s it; we’re going.”

Right in front of us stood Swarm, in all it’s terrifying glory. The rollercoaster stood tall, hundreds of metres above the ground, a scribble of loops and turns. I felt my stomach drop, sick rise into my throat. Half of me was absolutely terrified by this horrific particular machine; the idea of being tossed and turned in all directions, able to fall to my death at any moment, was terrifying. On the other hand, I was equally as terrified of saying no, and letting down Cal and the rest of the guys. Cal and I were at an early stage in our relationship. I had not yet completely opened myself up to him: my anxiety was a taboo that sat firmly chained up inside of my brain. However, as I felt the familiar panic wash over me, I wasn’t sure how much longer it would remain a secret. 

I realised, as I snapped out of my thoughts, that everybody was looking at me.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Are you alright?”

“Shit she looks pale.”

I felt my head spin, everybody’s voices becoming a blur. My breathing accelerated. All the children, parents, stalls around me seemed to fade as tears rushed to my eyes. I had to get away, but running would only draw ten times the attention to me and I couldn’t bare any more of that. Suddenly I felt the weight of my body shift underneath me, leaving me crashing to the ground. 

“Oh my god Y/n are you okay?!”

“Guys, guys, go.” I could make out Cal’s voice as he crouched beside me. “I’m sure. I’ve got her, you guys go on.”

He put an arm underneath me before lifting me and carrying me out of the park towards his car. I let the tears flow as I cuddled into his chest, wanting to be hidden from the public, feeling like a fish out of water. Humiliation waved over me as I realised I would have to explain to Cal what had happened, and would have to tell him all. 

Eventually we reached his car and he sat in the front seat, sitting me on top of his lap. He stroked my hair as I cried into his shoulder. While I regained control of my breathing he whispered sounds of reassurance. Eventually, when I was somewhat recovered, he looked down at me.

“Y/n what happened out there? Are you sick?” His face was laced with worry. I couldn’t control the feelings of guilt surfacing inside of me.

“Sort of,” I whispered, playing with my fingers. I felt his body tense underneath me. “Cal..I have anxiety. Generalised anxiety disorder, and panic disorder.”

“What? Y/n, why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want you to think I was mental,” I admitted, avoiding his eye. “My anxiety ruins everything for me. I didn’t want it to ruin us too.”

As my sentence came to a close my voice trailed off, becoming a mere whisper, echoing around the car. Cal took both my hands in his. He used his head to nudge mine, forcing me to look up at him. 

“Y/n please, don’t hide anything from me, ever. There is nothing that could ruin us, okay? I fucking love you, with or without anxiety, with or without panic attacks. I’d love you if you only had one arm, Y/n.” 

My heart expanded inside my chest, pushing against my ribcage. I let the smile spread across my face. 

“That’s it? You’re not like, put off?”

His face dropped, as if he was insulted by me even asking. “Y/n, nothing would put me off you. Ever. I love you.”

I placed a kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Cal.”

Mercy

You left me

shore-bound, ship-wrecked,

lost at land.


You gave me


this:


Chains.

Life.

(Him.)

Memories of you that

refuse to fade

as years pass and I

remain –  


The blue of your eyes, vivid

like the ocean at her shore.

(How I miss her.)

(The blue of his eyes, I don’t need to remember;

they are with me still.)


But you

rendered me

incomplete.


Your voice, hoarse and velvet-rich,

honey-sweet and

soft in my ear,

a whisper in the night,

spinning tales, always.

(His voice cuts through my nightmares, calling my name.)

(My name is his alone, you never claimed it.)


I miss you like I miss the sea,

mistress, breath, infinity.


You let go of me,

but –


I think of you when the sun sets.

(Sitting by the window as he writes.)

My mind seeks you out

beyond the horizon

– thereabouts –


You gave me


this


but took from me

so much more.


Three people I’ve loved,

but you, I never got to love

enough to fulfill

the promise I couldn’t make,

the promise you didn’t hear.


Mercy, such an alien

and twisted thing.

Tasting its bitterness, I wish

I could have tasted

the sea salt on your skin,

just once.

(Drinking wine from his lips, I quench my thirst.)


If I ever laid eyes

on you again

I wouldn’t know what to say

to stop it being 


this:


The loss of you, so keenly felt

after all this time,

its edges leaving me ragged.

(At the sight of him, I am round for a while.)


You wielded the sword

with ease, thinking it blunt,

not knowing the blade

cut too deep.



The Bigger man

(Warnings: Smut ((not totally graphic, but still there)) mentions of self harm.)

Being the bigger man is tough, especially when you’re shorter than the person you’re trying to out-mature. For Harry, it’s just about impossible to keep in his rage as Draco Malfoy brags about his position on the Inquisitorial squad loudly in front of his drooling cronies. Eventually Harry’s had enough, and packs up his things, getting up and off the grass, the bags under his eyes flashing purple in the twilight.

“You better watch yourself, Potter!” Draco shouts at Harry’s back as the black-haired boy walks away, hastily. Another confrontation with Malfoy is just about the last thing he needs, but it happens none the less.

It takes all of his will, but he’s able to turn away from Draco’s taunts before he ends up punching the blonde’s lights out.

“Ignoring me, eh?” Harry just keeps walking, clenching his fists. “You probably couldn’t face me anyway. My father said your dad was cowardly too-” Draco says, a sneer clear in his voice. Harry spins around, his will forgotten, all punishment forgotten, and green eyes blazing with fury.

“What did you say?” Harry says, standing directly in front of Draco, looking up slightly at the pale man’s skeptical face.

“I said, your father-” Draco jams a finger into Harry’s robe-clad chest. “Was. A. COWAR-” Draco never finishes his thought, because Harry’s fist has connected with his cheek.

Draco stumbles backwards, his hand tenderly massaging the now inflamed portion of his cheek. Harry storms back up to him.

“SAY IT AGAIN. SAY ONE MORE THING ABOUT MY FATHER!” Harry yells, capturing the attention of several students around the yard. Draco grunts and straightens up, glaring down at the smaller boy.

“Oh, I have plenty to say about your blood-traitor father.” He says, coldly. Another one of Harry’s punches lands on him, this time, in the stomach. Growling with rage, Draco swings his pale fist, hitting Harry by the temple.

People start making a ring around the two fighting 5th years, red and green flashing in their robes. Fists fly, and taunts and curses are shouted, but wands are never drawn. They end up in a heap on the ground, with Harry sitting low on Draco’s hips, punching him repeatedly in his now bleeding face.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” The now large crowd chants.

“Enough!” A powerful female voice booms. The crowd instantly silences and disperses, muttering to each other.

Still blinded by rage, the two boys continue to pummel each other, Draco now on top of Harry, holding his wrists above his head in one hand, and landing punches with another.

With a flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall forces Draco and Harry apart, each still seething with rage.

“What is the meaning of this!” The Professor barks at the teenagers.

“He insulted my father!” Harry shouts, throwing a hate filled stare at Draco, who’s chest is heaving with heavy breaths.

“He threw the first punch, I had nothing to do with it.” Draco replies, smugly, though it doesn’t really work with his forming black eye and split lip.

“Fine, fine. Now, under normal circumstances, I would bring the issue to the headmaster-” she pauses, a look of clear unhappiness on her wise and wrinkled face. “but I don’t think that’s necessary.” As she says it, both Harry and Draco know that the real reason is that the green-robed witch absolutely DESPISES Delores Umbridge.

The “Devil in Pink”, as she’s been known to be called, has completely taken over Hogwarts, under the strict guidelines of the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge.

“I will give you both TWO options.” She says sternly. Draco and Harry share a look of complete loathing and hatred, but also one of agreement. Agreement that they would take the easiest punishment, no matter how demeaning because let’s be honest; what could be worse than detention with Filch?

“Your first option would be a month of detention with Mr. Filch…” She things for a moment, before setting her face with a sly grin that is not usually worn by her. Gray and green eyes exchange nervous glances, their skirmish forgotten in the nervous suspense created by the still silent witch standing between them.

“Your second…” She grins. “Hold hands for an hour, in the Great Hall. It’s up to you two to decide what to chose.” Draco and Harry share a look of resentment, before Harry sighs.

“The hand holding.” Harry says quietly.

“Do you agree, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor McGonagall asks Draco. He silently nods. “Then it’s settled. After breakfast tomorrow, which is a…” She thinks for a moment, holding a finger to her weathered lips. “Sunday.”

“Yes, Professor.” Draco and I answer in sync.

“Good. Both of you return to your dormitories, and do NOT leave until it is time for breakfast tomorrow.” She says, turning away, back into the castle. Harry sighs and follows her retreating form into the stone halls of the castle, making his was miserably up to the Gryffindor common room.

Draco sneers halfheartedly at the ink haired boy’s back, before turning on his heal and walking the opposite way of his enemy to the dungeons.

-t.s-

“Are you ACTUALLY going through with this?” Ron asks Harry as they walk in their usual trio down to the Great Hall, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Ginny joining them at random intervals as they walk down the twisting corridors. Harry runs his hand through his disastrous black hair, mind racing.

“I don’t have any other choice.” He replies to him, shivers traveling up his spine just imaging how cold and gross the Malfoy heir’s hand must be.

“He could poison you through your hand or something!” Neville pipes up, and Harry cracks a smile, because it’s the only thing breaking through his walls of worry at the current moment.

“Ugh, don’t be thick, Neville!” Hermione says.

“I’ve seen him; he isn’t.” Seamus whispers in Harry and Ron’s ears, who both snort with laughter. Hermione shoots them a dirty look as they reach the first floor, and cross the chamber to the Great Hall.

“Honestly Harry, I think Malfoy wants to get this over with just as much as you do.” She says, placing her books on the table in front of her, and grabbing a piece of toast and slathering it with marmalade.

“Maybe you’re right…” Harry says, glancing over, discreetly, at the Slytherin table. Draco looks just the same as usual, a cocky grin on his face, perfect teeth flashing in lighting that makes his hair shimmer…

‘Woah, what got over you there, Harry?’ He asks himself, shaking his head and turning it back to his friends. Of course he looks perfect though; he’s a Malfoy.

Meanwhile, Harry himself is looking quite the opposite. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than ever after yet another sleepless night.

He rubs his eyes tiredly after eating a small plate of eggs. He hasn’t had much of an appetite of late. Hermione gives him a look, but he shrugs it off, standing up and walking over to Professor McGonagall, who is (conveniently) standing right next to the door, eyes on Harry.

The green eyed teen walks to his fate with his chin up, and it looks as if Draco has the same idea because he is also striding over to the lightly smiling Professor along with him. They meet in the middle, and don’t look at each other, assuming that it would just be easier if they ignored the other person.

“Come along.” Professor McGonagall says, ushering both boys out under stares and whispers of their classmates.

She leads them to two chairs situated in the middle of the entrance hall, gesturing for them to take a seat, which they both do.

“All you have to do it sit here, holding hands for one hour, no less. Your time starts-” she gives us a pointed look, telling us to get on with the task. Draco and Harry begrudgingly take one-another’s hands. “Now.”

Harry was prepared for frigid fingers and icy palms, but is instead greeted by warm and soft skin, with long agile fingers. It’s a welcomed feeling for the Boy who Lived, who finds it comforting, without, of course, telling this to the blonde. Harry himself now feels very self-conscious of his own hand, which is rough and calloused from fighting, and scarred from the Triwizard Tournament the previous year.

Minutes pass agonizingly slowly.

Ten.

Twenty.

Thirty.

People exiting the Great Hall look unto them with laughter, whispering to each other and making bets. He catches snippets of conversation which make the back of his neck blister with heat.

“Is this their coming out or something?”

“I hear it’s punishment for snogging each other in the third floor corridor.”

“How long do you think they’ll keep this up before one of them snaps the other’s neck?”

Harry buries his face in his elbow, taking a break from the passing faces and takes in the dark.

He becomes more aware of his other senses now that he isn’t looking around. He can hear Draco’s uncharacteristically deep breathing, and smell his subtle but still existent cologne. He can also feel the pale hand squeezing his slightly tighter than before, which Harry finds that he likes.

Fourty.

Fifty.

In a sudden act of courage, he changes the placement of their hands so that their fingers are now laced together. Draco’s breathing hitches for a moment, before squeezing Harry’s hand. Harry runs his finger up the side of Draco’s palm, gently savoring the feeling of the creamy skin that belongs to the Malfoy heir that he was so mad at just the day before.

Harry takes his face out of his arm, finding just a small group of people who proably have money bet on how long they’ll last. He brings his eyes to Draco, who’s hair has fallen in front of his red face. He turns to face the Potter.

“Fuck you Potter.” He whispers, squeezing Harry’s hand hard, and running his thumb over Harry’s wrist, feeling all the bumps, bones, and… scars?

Draco’s eyes widen in shock. Harry doesn’t notice Draco’s revelation, though, because he’s too busy looking at the cuticles of his other hand, before looking up at Draco with an oblivious smile; oblivious to how Draco’s hand skims over the EXACT same place, because his mind is focused on something else.

“Sure.” He whispers, before pressing his lips to Draco’s.

Sixty.

Gasps fly throughout the small crowd, and the click of Colin Creevey’s camera is audible to everyone except for the two boys, who are so wrapped up in each other (literally) that they don’t even notice.

Their lips mesh together perfectly, disconnecting and re-connecting like clockwork, hands burying themselves in black or blonde hair, gasping breaths heard from both of them as they stand up in the wild and passionate kiss.

“Ahem” a voice says, causing the boys to break apart, breathing heavily and still holding each other.

The crowd mutters, and the clink of coins dropping together into the palms of bet winners is heard clearly in the otherwise silent hall.

Professor McGonnagall is looking at them with a look of mild surprise on her face.

“That is… not what I expected to happen, to say the least…” She says, now smiling lightly. “but it seems you won’t be fighting anymore after today.” Draco and Harry blush brightly. “Off you go then.”

Draco and Harry rush away, still hand in hand, neither believing what just happened. They run to a spare classroom, and lock the door behind them, crazed smiles on faces with swollen lips and bruised cheeks.

“Did we just-”

“Yes.”

“I had no idea-”

“Yeah, neither did I…”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

And then they’re kissing again. It’s frantic and messy, but ever so passionate. Harry finds himself pushed up against the wall of the classroom, his neck being attacked by the Slytherin. Harry’s hands roam Draco’s sides, untucking the white dress shirt he chose to wear today.

“Fuck, Draco…” Harry breathes the words, coming undone by the kisses peppered on his neck harshly. Draco smiles against Harry’s skin as he travels to the Gryffindor’s now exposed collar bone, after unbuttoning the first few snaps of Harry’s shirt. He bites down, running his tongue along the mark as Harry moans. His first moan at the hands of another.

“You’re so hot, Harry.” Draco breathes, before getting pushed back by Harry, who jams him into a table. His bruises from yesterday scream, but he couldn’t care less at the moment because of how painfully turned on he is from Harry’s dominance.

Harry re-captures the young Malfoy’s lips, running his tongue thoughtfully against the taller boy’s bottom lip. He pushes it in, exploring the wetness and meeting with Draco’s.

His hands find their way again to Draco’s hips, playing with the top of his pants, and putting his fingers under the hem of Draco’s shirt and touching the fair skin. Draco growls with ecstasy, and pushes Harry away, and pulls him to the ground.

“Don’t fuck with me, Harry Potter.” Draco says, sitting on Harry’s hips, with the other boy’s hardness pressing into him. Harry’s half lidded eyes widen.

“What?” He asks, his voice husky. Draco takes Harry’s wrists and pins them over his head, much the same as he did the previous day. He pushes Harry’s sleeves down, revealing several shallow white scars crisscrossing his wrists and forearms. He runs his thumb over them.

“It was a lapse. I only did it once…” Harry says, leaning up and kissing Malfoy again, biting his lip seductively. Draco pulls away, and looks at his flushed face. Harry sighs.

“Okay, maybe more than once. But I’m fine.” Harry says. Draco sighs, taking one hand from the Chosen One’s wrists and runs it through his silvery blonde locks.

“We will talk about this later, but right now I have something to sort out.” He says, leaning over Harry more to press his boner into the boy’s stomach.

Soon enough shirts are discarded, and hands are roaming chests and abs made from quidditch. Draco traces Harry’s many scars seductively with his finger.

Draco moves his hips to change his position, but shudders from the feeling of Harry’s completely erect dick on his ass.

“Fuck-” Draco moans. Harry smirks deviously, and grinds his hips up into Draco.

Now the blonde can’t help it. What with the grinding and the sigh of the incredibly hot teen underneath him, his hand involuntarily moves into his pants, and he grips himself, sending a shock of pleasure though him.

“Damn, Draco. Someone likes to get right to it.” Harry says deeply, before flipping them over yet again so that HE now sits on top.

“AGH!” Draco screams in pleasure, from Harry grinding in JUST the perfect way. “Fuck Harry-” He pants. “I never would have guessed you would know how to do this.” He gasps as Harry moves his hands to Draco’s pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them-and his underwear- down in one move, causing an 8 inch to come springing free.

“I don’t, really.” Harry says, taking it in his hand and pumping it, causing Draco’s back to arch, and a sharp moan to escape him. “But Seamus does. And he likes to recount his many stories.”

“I’m fucking glad he did.”

“Me too.” Harry smirks.

-t.s-

“So, Harry…” Hermione and Ron approach him the following day, after noting that he returned back to the dorms at about one in the morning, with his hair more messed up than usual, his shirt buttons in the wrong order, and his pants unbuttoned and unzipped. “Where were you yesterday?” Ron asks, giving him a sideways look.

“Uhh-” Harry says, his face reddening. Hermione rolls her eyes.

“Oh Ronald isn’t it obvious?” She says, rolling her eyes, gesturing to Harry’s partially exposed collar bone, where a bright black and purple hickey stands out against his pale skin.

“HARRY! YOU SHAGGED DRA-” Ron starts to scream. Harry muffles to rest of the statement, but it’s too late. All eyes in the common room have turned to them.

“HARRY! HARRY!” Little Colin runs over, a picture in hand.

“What is it, Colin?” Harry asks, exasperated.

“I took a picture of you and that boy yesterday… I thought you might want to see it-” is all he gets out, because Harry’s already taken the photo and thanked him.

Sure enough, there they are. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, making out in the great hall. The moving picture makes him remember the moment even more.

Harry smiles, and touches a finger to his lips.

“Harry, I can’t believe you. His father is a DEATH EATER. He could be one too, you know!” Hermione huffs, crossing her arms.

“I couldn’t care less if he’s a Death Eater. Because he would be the only good one.” Harry says, walking to the portrait hole. “Are you guys coming to breakfast or not?” Harry asks his best friends, before climbing through the hole and walking, once again to the Great Hall on this Monday morning.

When Harry walks in, all eyes turn to him. Whispers are thrown as he sits down at his usual place beside Ron and Hermione.

“Hey Harry. Are you and Draco dating now?” Ginny Weasley asks him meekly. Harry’s face reddens.

“I… Uh… don’t really know.” Harry says, sheepishly. He takes a swig of pumpkin juice. He looks over at the Slytherin table, where it looks like Draco is having the same problem. A small crowd of people is surrounding him, all probably asking questions.

A sudden surge of bravery comes to him, and Harry stands up.

“Why don’t we find out?” He smirks, before walking over to the Slytherin table.

The other houses quiet as he makes the trek across the large room. The group of people surrounding a very harassed looking Draco part, and soon enough Harry is standing directly in front of him.

Before he loses his confidence, he just says the words, and they echo throughout the silent hall. Even the teachers are watching, since Umbridge is away at the ministry today.

“Draco, will you go out with me?” Harry asks, bracing himself for the possible laughter and taunts from his former enemy, but they don’t come.

In a flash, Draco has climbed over the table to reach Harry, and presses their lips firmly together.

“Yes.” And their lips meet again.

The Great Hall burst with applause and supportive screams.

The boys separate, still holding each other.

So yeah, being the bigger man is hard. But for Harry Potter, for the first time in his Wizarding life, he doesn’t have to be. That can be Draco’s job too.

Little DWSA Things

Ernst’s voice is one of the cutest things to watch in the show.

-After Bitch of Living when Hanschen offers to walk Ernst home, the voice starts fiddling with his jacket trying to look presentable.

-After the “Achilles and Patroclus” line, the voice stares at Hanschen as he walks away, scandalized

-THE BIKE

-When they walk away, he holds out his hand to Ernst as if to say “you’re not going anywhere near him if I can help it”

-When Hanschen shows up at the “vineyard” he starts adjusting his jacket again

-I can’t remember if it’s in every production, but during the first kiss he looks absolutely scandalized, pulling at Ernst’s leg to get him to stop kissing the boy

-THE CHAIR SPIN

In short Ernst’s voice is precious and easily scandalized

           There’s No Room For Clowns Here

Character: Zak Bagans x Reader Insert
Word Count: 1,725
Warnings: None
Request: “ How about Zak and reader where they hunt together and are together romantically and she fiends out she’s pregnant and she decides that since it’s so close to Halloween she does something different to tell him ”
Summery:  You’re part of the Ghost Adventures Crew, and things with you and Zak easily escalated shortly after you were hired. The two of you are dating, but you could never prepare for the news you’d have to tell him. Turns out, there is something much more scary on Halloween than dolls and clowns.

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