spiral wrap

Fly | Park Ji Min | One-Shot

jimin (bts) + you (reader)
word count: 12,842
warnings: there’s no violence in here but if survival scenarios make you uncomfortable there is a mild dose of that of course there is some smut but it’s nothing too rough it’s vanilla plus there is quite a bit of cussing hey he’s a pirate it is to be expected
a/n: the long awaited pirate!jimin fic is finally here good grief i feel like i have been working on this for years but it’s only been a couple months lol anyway hope you all enjoy i really like how it turned out but i will go ahead and add there will be no sequel or extra installments

Keep reading

Newest dabber!!!
Made with Aqua Aura quartz and a metal bronze spiral charm.
It has a scoop end and a pokey pointy end as well.
Contact me if you’re interested in this baby!
-ALSO I will be doing another giveaway tonight, so stay tuned for that & maybe you’ll have a chance to win one similar to this ☝️
*Much luv, goon.

4

The Promise

A Captain Swan AU 

Killian and Emma, two souls destined to be one. Come along on their journey of True Love, filled with romance, passion, and challenges as they fight for their Happy Beginning in The Promise 

Special thanks to @duathadun  @hellomommanerd  @linda8084  @juliakaze

Can be found on FF and AO3  and Tumblr Chapters (2)  (3)

Chapter 1

Words ~ 5400     Story Rating ~ T++

August 2014

Killian Jones had been born on the right side of the tracks on a night when the stars were in perfect alignment. He lived a life having parents who were overjoyed by his birth because they had given up hope of having a second child, a brother who allowed him to tag along wherever he went, and friends he loved and whom he could depend on whenever needed. He also had a solid head on his shoulders and grew up with such a thirst for all types of knowledge that he kept his mother busy taking him to and from the local library, where he would check out books on everything from ‘How to Grow the Best Orchids’ to ‘Making the Most of a Design’.   Killian wasn’t a one-dimensional child either, for he had inherited his mother’s appreciation for beauty and could describe a painting as easily as he could recite poetry.  From a very young age, he loved visiting all types of museums and asking questions of his parents and, eventually, of his teachers and their answers satisfied him for a time.  But as he grew, while he continued to strive to learn and understand the world around him, he always felt that there was more out there.  A part of him that was always searching for that elusive something that he knew was out there; but what or whom it was, the search continued.

As a young boy, his parents had been inseparable, and their love and affection for each other and for their children was apparent to anyone they were around.  There was a sense of the Jones family against the world and, in a way, it had always been that way, as Katherine’s parents never warmed up to the boy from the wrong side of London, whisking their daughter away from the society where they thought she belonged.  Even after Brennan had made his way as a successful banker throughout Europe, a distance still existed, and for that reason their small family remained isolated, spending their summers together picnicking, boating and playing football, and skiing, skating and visiting museums in the winter.  

Since learning had always come easily to Killian, he had high marks and found his way into the Imperial College London to study engineering at the young age of eighteen.  Moving away from home and into dormitory life, where he met his best mate Robin Locksley, gave him a freedom that he had never known, and much to his mother and father’s consternation, he had ended up on academic probation after the first year.   A stern lecture by his father and the threat of being forced to join his brother in the Royal Navy seemed to be just the motivation he required for not only his status within the program but also his behavior in general.  During his second and third year, his standing improved, earning him top awards.  But then tragedy struck, taking both parents in one fell swoop and he had spiraled down, no longer caring about himself or anyone else, and wishing the person responsible for his parents’ death hadn’t died with them so he could extract his own revenge.  Only well-placed guilt from Liam had pushed him to complete his final year and graduate. 

Keep reading

Hair Dye and Tired Eyes

Originally posted by x-mensangel

Originally posted by snowhiteraven

Warren Worthington III x Reader (unspecified gender) 

Part [2] (fem!reader) Part [2] (male!reader)  

Author: Lewis 

Prompt: ‘your soulmate’s hair colour is the colour of your eyes. the colour of your eyes also changes to match the colour of their hair if they dye it’ with Warren please!

Note: Ahhhhh yes! I love all these soulmate ideas and angel is rad! Please send in more requests. 

Warnings: lil bit of language but that’s it. 

Red. That was the only word swirling through Warrens mind as he stared intensely into the mirror that hung on his wall. Over night his eyes had went from a subtle hazel to red. Not a bright red but a dark crimson red. Warren let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hand through his shaggy blond hair. ‘Out of every colour they chose red.’ Warren though shaking his head.

He sluggishly moved away from the mirror and made his way to the door. Giving the door a gentle tug before entering into the hallway, groups of children flocking towards their class. Warren kept his head down in an attempt to draw focus away from his eyes.

So far he had managed to make it all the way to the danger room for training with the rest of the x-men without anyone noticing. So close. He opened the door, eyes immediately falling on the group of teens quietly conversing in a circle. He walked over slowly, eyes glued to the floor.

“Jesus we were beginning to think you weren’t gonna show bird-boy.” Peter smirked nudging him slightly. 

“Yeah I guess I just lost track of time.” Warren shrugged.

That wasn’t a complete lie, he just chose to leave out the part about spending an hour in front of the mirror contemplating his soulmate’s decision of hair colour. 

“Well know that you’re here we can…” Scott paused cocking an eyebrow at Warren before anger consumed his features. “Oh very funny Warren!” he laughed humourlessly. 

“Wha-,” Warren glanced at the others but they all looked just as confused.

Keep reading

My new momma - Pack Mom

REQUEST: can you write a one-shot where Y/N shows Liam motherly affection for the first time and he gets all embarrassed and flustered bc he’s a sweet little baby ❤

Y/N busied herself around the Hale loft making sure there were enough cushions on the couch before the pack arrived for a very last minute pack meeting. Y/N was Derek Hale’s mate and the unofficial pack mother to the pack members but she’d attached herself to the newest member of the pack. Scott’s new beta, Liam. Regardless of his anger issues, he was an absolute sweetheart who needed nothing more than the love and attention of an older female motherly figure.

The afternoon turned cold when the sky darkened and the thunder clapped and heavy rain poured down. Y/N put the fireplace on hoping the living room where the meeting would be held so it would warm up slightly. She headed back to the kitchen to set out some snacks placing them on the coffee table. Derek was upstairs taking a shower after a quick gym session earlier that afternoon. Y/N stood by the large windows and watched the rain drops race down the window hoping the pack would make it to the loft ok.  “It’s really coming down out there isn’t it, babe?” Derek asked startling her slightly as he descended down the spiral staircase and wrapped an arm around his mate’s waist holding her close. Instead of his usual attire, he had opted to wear a white tank top and grey sweats relaxing knowing he wouldn’t have to leave the loft for the rest of the evening.

The pack arrived shortly and hurried into the loft embracing it’s warmth.  “Oooh it’s so toasty in here.” Lydia commented heading straight to the mirror to fix her hair.  “Snacks!” Stiles yelled and headed straight for the coffee table. Scott and Malia followed after him settling down by the fire. Y/N looked around the room noticing one member was missing.

“Where’s Liam? Where’s my pup?” She asked looking at Scott.  “Coach held him back. He’ll be joining us later”, the true alpha replied. Y/N sighed and nodded. She sat down on the end of the couch near the fireplace resting her chin in her palm as she listened to Scott and Derek as they started the meeting. Every so often she’d glance at the clock checking the time and out the window to see it still heavily raining.

Thirty minutes into the meeting, the loft door slid open and in trudged a very wet and tired little Liam still in his Lacrosse uniform.  “Oh my gosh, Liam!” Y/N gasped as she got up to see him.  “I’m here…’m here.” The young beta huffed tiredly dropping his school bag and lacrosse stick.  “Oh sweetie, look at you? You’re so cold and soaking wet. Come on, let’s get you dried off and into some fresh warm clothes and we can join the others.” She told him yanking a large freshly washed bath towel off the radiator and wrapped it around Liam as she picked up his duffle bag and held him close guiding him upstairs carefully.  “Really…I’m o..ok.” He began to shiver. “No don’t be silly, sweetie. I don’t want you catching a cold. I’ll take good care of you, honey.” She reassured him.

In the large bedroom Y/N shared with Derek, she sat him down on the bed. She quickly went into the bathroom and turned on the hot shower for him letting it run for a few minutes. She took out a soft navy blue print t shirt, a fresh pair of boxers and his grey sweats laying them down on the bed ready for him.  “Ok honey, go take a quick hot shower so you don’t get a cold and change into the clothes I’ve laid out for you.” She instructed him. Liam was still shivering from the cold but he nodded and hurried into the bathroom.  “I’m here if you need anything, honey. Just shout, sweetie.” She added calling after him.

Y/N headed to the hall closet giving him some time to freshen up as she took out a small fluffy blanket and set it on the bannister so she’d remember to take it downstairs with her. After 15 minutes of doing odd jobs upstairs, she headed to her room hearing shuffling from inside knowing Liam was out of the shower. She knocked on the door three times waiting for him to let her in.  “Come in.” He called shyly.  “Hi honey, are you feeling better?”, she asked him. Liam nodded. Y/N smiled and instructed him to sit on the bed as she took the towel and briefly dried his hair.  “There we go, all done sweetie.” She told him cheerfully. Liam blushed and nodded.  “Thanks.” He mumbled shyly looking up at her.  “You’re always welcome, sweetheart.” She smiled at him.  “Let’s go back downstairs, honey. They’re all waiting for us.” She added.

Y/N held her hand out for Liam to take and the sweet little beta blushed but took it as she led him to the living room holding the blanket on her other arm. Y/N sat back in her seat and looked up at Liam who was stood awkwardly beside her.  “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked him.  “All the seats are taken.” Liam replied shyly shuffling on his feet. Y/N smiled and pat her knee.  “You can sit with me, honey”, she cooed as she pulled him onto her lap and wrapping her arms around him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and Liam blushed red furiously hiding his face against her shoulder.  Y/N smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “You don’t have to be embarrassed, sweetie. It’s just momma”, she told him loving. “Momma?” Liam repeated. He thought for a minute as it still rang in his ears. Y/N had done nothing but be a loving and caring motherly figure to him. Something he had been craving for a while but here he was in the toasty living room of the Hale loft sitting on Y/N’s lap as she held him close occasionally rocking him in her arms as he rest against her and every so often she’d press a kiss to his forehead. It was the most love Liam had ever felt. He smiled and snuggled into her chest wrapping his arms around her.

“Momma…?” He asked again.  “Yes baby?” Y/N answered lovingly as she wrapped the small blanket around him and pressed another kiss to his forehead rocking him in her arms.  “Thanks for everything.” He replied resting his head against her as he sat contently.  “Anything for my sweet little pup.” She cooed pressing another kiss to his forehead as the pack meeting continued.

Hours afterwards, Y/N heard snores coming from her lap and looked down to see that Liam had fallen asleep against her. He rest his head against the warmth of her chest. She smiled down at him and lovingly cupped his face gently stroking his cheek with the pad of her thumb and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “My sweet sweet boy.” She cooed holding him protectively rocking him in her arms as he slept peacefully in her arms.

Originally posted by couplenotes

Okitober Fest - Regret and Lost

Castle in the Corn

Rating: T
Length: 2,200 words
Description: Modern AU set ~10 years after An Unearned Gift. Okita and Chizuru are taking their daughters on an excursion to a corn maze, but their plans go awry when one of the girls decides to run off.

Author’s Note: Yay! OkiChi Week/Okitober Fest is finally here. I honestly can’t thank @kurokiorya enough for drawing the fabulous illustration! Be sure to check out her blog to see all of her amazing art. 

This is also on FF and AO3


“But Mom, I want to find the castle!”

Souji couldn’t help a small chuckle at the way their six year-old daughter managed to mirror Chizuru’s own stubborn posture. Everyone insisted that their youngest, Natsumi, had gotten his stubborn personality along with his green eyes, but he’d faced off against his wife’s own particular brand of stubbornness often enough to know that wasn’t entirely true.

The family of four stood in the middle of a giant, kid-friendly, halloween themed corn maze. Currently their older daughter was attempting to lead them to the giant pumpkin and was doing a fairly good job of it. Despite getting much of Chizuru’s calmer personality - an immense benefit with a younger sister like Natsumi - Sachiko thankfully hadn’t inherited her mother’s distinct lack of direction. The cards were still up in the air for Natsumi, but she was young… Or at least that’s what Souji hoped. Keeping track of Chizuru in busy places was hard enough, but at least she didn’t have a habit of running off when she didn’t get her way like Natsumi did.  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

DO CIELOIS FOR THE SHIP THING O.O

{Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?}

-Alois! And he’d mock Ciel in a playful manner!

{Who enunciates hand holding?}

-Ciel! He’s embarrassed about it but does it anyways!

{Who likes having their hair washed by who?}

-Alois! But only because when Alois washes Ciel hair Ciel always gets bubbles in his eyes and then they’re both screaming

{Who likes to slow dance?}

-Ciel! He loves it and Alois would be so bored by it if he wasn’t focused on Ciel

{Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?}

-Alois! Ciel is always busy and he gets tired waiting for his attention sometimes

{Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?}

-Ciel! Because they’re in privacy! And no one can tease him!

{Who hogs all the blankets at night?}

-Ciel! He hates being cold and says Alois doesn’t need them bc he’s already so warm

{Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?}

-Alois! And Ciel always complies bc he loves him

{How do they share a dessert?}

-it’s like a fight for survival tbh

{Two forks or one?}

-Two! And Ciel will try to eat the whole thing himself!

{Who gets jealous more easily?}

-Ciel! He sees you

{Who gets angered more easily?}

-Ciel again! He has a short temper

{How do they to sleep at night?}

-They sleep all cuddled up at first and then somehow sleepily fighting over custody over the blanket

{Who gets the most shoulder rubs?}

-Ciel! Because he’s such a ‘hard-worker’

{What are their arguments/fights like?}

-They’d probably try to be civil and Ciel would raise his voice so Alois would raise his to tell Ciel not to be loud and surprisingly enough Ciel would quiet down

{Muse that says 'I told you so’ after they were home from the beach and the other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining about how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burned?}

-Ciel says it!!! Alois was too excited and didn’t listen

{Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?}

-Alois! He loves them so much and he knows Ciel has work

{Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the other crying about something?}

-Ciel would be upset but not surprised. Alois is sensitive sometimes and still has bad memories

-Alois is definitely surprised bc Ciel usually represses his feelings but he’s also a bit honored that Ciel is letting it go in front of him

{And how do they make each other feel better?}

-Ciel would sit down and try to rationalize whatever Alois is crying about bc Alois tends not to listen to reason and goes into a downward spiral

-Alois would wrap Ciel up and tell him about happy things and all the things he loves about him so Ciel feels better before they start talking about it

{What would they be like as parents?}

-Honestly Ciel would be the parent to bend the rules for his kid and totally spoils them while Alois is the Rich Mom With Sunglasses And Fur Coat™️ that’ll stab you if you touch his child the wrong way or hurt their feelings

{What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?}

-Alois would’ve had hearts on every paper with Ciel’s name in them and would constantly be spilling the latest relationship news meanwhile Ciel would do things like sit with him at lunch with an arm slung over his shoulder and give him things like bouquets

{Who enunciates taking a bath together?}

-Alois! He loves bathing with Ciel!

{Who likes playing with their hair?}

-Ciel! It calms him down to play with Alois’s hair

{The place they most likely accidentally fall asleep together?}

-At Ciel’s desk! Alois gets tired and then Ciel gets tired bc of Alois’s slow and calm breathing and then they end up both passing out in the weirdest position lol

~Thank you! ❤~

anonymous asked:

Oh! Do you headcannon that Tobirama has more red tattoos than the ones on his face, too? Because I can TOTALLY see that! It's a concept I've been wanting to play with for a while now and I'm so happy to see it with someone else! :D Also, Madara, get dat booty lol

My dear, you don’t know what Pandora’s box you have just opened. Because after @redhothollyberries had seen the drawing she went “you have ad headcanon for those? “ … not really?” “then WHY NOT …?” and here we are, those tattoo have an headcanon and is a long one, so get ready! (And say thanks to her because she wrote all of ours … ideas? Angsty brainstorming? In English, my “fancy” use of the language is going to stop here!)


Tobirama wasn’t always that OP. He was damn smart, but he wasn’t strong the way Hashirama was. He was quick, but weak when compared to his brother. Also, his albinism made him too sensitive to midday light and he was often sick.

When Hashirama discovered his mokuton, Tobirama felt left behind. He couldn’t help his brother, couldn’t protect him, if he couldn’t even keep up with him. So he started researching for way to make himself better. The stories said that the Uzumaki used fuinjutsu to change their bodies - why couldn’t he? He asked to be allowed to study with the Uzumaki, both he was denied - so he started studying on his own, making it up as it went.

The first thing he corrected were his eyes (the diagonal lines under each eyes), that neutralized his sunlight handicap. He was 13.

Next, he went about augmenting his speed and agility - the bands on his ankles and wrists. That fuinjutsu helped him channel his chakra in a more minute way than it naturally would. The bands around his ring fingers helped him control better his jutsu.

But he soon discovered they weren’t really effective: they were too chakra consuming. Those seals directed the chakra better, true, but they needed a lot and Tobirama didn’t have his brother’s reserves. So he came up with the spirals wrapping around his legs and arms (ankles, thighs, wrists and biceps): pieces of fuinjutsu that act like a battery, sapping at the chakra his body produce and storing it (the longer the spiral, the more chakra stored). With enough days of charge, he can have as much if not more chakra than his brother. This both supports his speed-enhancing seals and his suiton affinity.

Then, when he’s 15, he goes further. He’ s sick of being ill so often, so he creates a seal that fortifies his immune system, so that he won’t catch any more bugs (the seals on his chest and lower abdomen). Thing is, he doesn’t realize these new seals tap in the same chakra pathways the battery seals do. That means that when he’s off duty is immune system does work better - but when he releases the battery seals and floods his body with chakra, he overcharges the anti-illness seals and his immune system starts attacking his own body.

It takes months of usage before he realizes he’s ill - something he can’t cure because nobody realizes what’s happening. He suspects his seals to be the culprit, but he doesn’t know why or how. So he hides it - until he can’t hide it anymore and collapses. Touka and Hashirama are out of their minds with worry. They had never liked those seals.

Hashirama kidnaps Tobirama and runs to the Uzumaki. (@redhothollyberries is going to reblog this with a drabble, look out for it!)

There, he begs for them to save his brother. The Uzumaki are jealous of their medicine and fuinjutsu secrets, and would let Tobirama die - if it wasn’t for the daughter of the Clanhead, Mito, who isn’t about to let a boy die if she can help it. She’s cunning and smart, and persuades her father that it would be in their favour to have the Senju in their debt.

Hashirama agrees to whatever they might ask him, just please, save his brother. So the Senju ask for the Mokuton - they are a Clan of hotheads who want to make themselves better so of course they would be interested in it. They want to experiment on the Mokuton. Hashirama agrees on both giving them tissue samples and to taking an Uzumaki wife - with the catch that any mokuton child would be given to the Uzumaki.

Mito and the best of the clan save Tobirama, correcting the seals and adding the design going over the shoulders. In the meantime, Mito and Hashirama fall in love - later, Mito will persuade her father to marry her to Hashirama, and to make the treaty into a real alliance between the two clans.

When Mito eventually moves in with the Senju, she and Tobirama become best of friends. She teaches him what she knows of fuinjutsu, and helps him complete the set of seals: one on his back and around his neck to widen his chakra sensing range, and one on his chin to neutralize any poison.

And that, people, is how Tobirama becomes OP.


And some character reference! 

Ps: I asked for porn! But she was more interested on the “Fuuinjustu!” stuff *pout*

How to Sell a Haunted House

Emmett stood outside of the freshly painted house, keys in hand, waiting for his clients. His smile was sharklike. Not like a great white, but rather, a shark less menacing, but just as, if not moreso aggressive.

You had to be, when it came to selling houses to precious newlyweds, with their precious goldendoodles and their aspirations for raising tiny goblins in a good school district in a safe neighborhood.

Well, Emmett didn’t specialize in neighborhood houses.

A crow cawed down at him, and he glared up at, perched in the large tree in front yard. Soon after, he heard the foretelling thrums of tires rolling over the dirt driveway, kicking up rocks and snapping twigs.

He smiled even wider. It was a picturesque scene of a beautiful, secluded house in the middle of a forest not too far away from town.

“I didn’t realize we were in the boonies!” Mr. Benson called to him as he and his wife got out of their car.

Emmett shook his head. “It’s only twenty minutes to town!”

A lie, but most people speeded along these winding roads anyway.

Mrs. Benson looked up at the house. A fixer upper with potential. Every couple with HGTV fancied themselves a house flippers, nowadays. It made Emmet’s job easier.

“This house,” he announced as they crossed over the threshold, “was originally built in 1838. It was one of the two plantation houses in this county.”

Mr. Benson turned to him while his wife ran her hand over freshly applied wallpaper. “Slaveowners?”

“Not exactly. Quakers,” Emmett glanced around. “They had a community here, and this house is the last of them.”

“I didn’t know there were Quakers in South Carolina, Emmett,” Mrs. Bensen commented. “But, six bedrooms, four baths, right.”

“Everything that you wanted, Mrs. Bensen. The kitchen and bathrooms were updated last fall, ma’am,” Emmett told her. “Let’s go to the kitchen. You know, Betsy Clarence was telling me all about your award winning cobbler.”

She grinned at that, and they stepped into the kitchen. He showed her the stove, the fancy new appliances, everything, when Mr. Bensen went to the iron grate, slightly rusted and firmly set into the wall.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, it’s just part of the air conditioning, sir. There’s a finished basement, so a few grates had to be added around the house.” Emmett told him, standing beside it. “I think it’d be charming to put a little picture frame around it, or maybe paint it to match the walls.”

“It’s cute!” Mrs. Bensen decided. “It’ll be a great conversation piece.”

“The basement is just through that door under the stairs,” he told them. “I’ll be in right after you.”

They quickly flocked to the door, taking delight in the old locks and knobs.

From the grate, Emmet heard excited, hungry whispers. He shushed them, and followed the couple downstairs.

Mr. and Mrs. Bensen were quite disappointed.

“You said it was finished.”

He glanced to the exposed brick, and the dirtied cement floor. “Well,” he told them. “Finished in the sense that you could easily add drywall, or carpeted flooring. Even so, the storage possibilities are amazing. Especially with a growing family.”

“Where are all the grates?” Mrs. Bensen turned, inspecting the dark room, “All I see are high windows.”

“Dusty windows.”

Emmett made a good show of looking around for the grates. “I’m not sure. I do see some vents, up here.”

Normal house vents. Not ancient grates set firmly into walls with no way of closing them.

“There’s most likely a crawl space for the air ducts, between the first floor and the basement,” He told them, “Do you want to see the bedrooms, or we could check out the backyard?”  

The three of them made their way through the backyard, and Mrs. Bensen was falling in love with the old, faded white gazebo. Everything seemed to sparkle after it rained, and she found it all very romantic and dewy.

“So tell us about the previous owner.”

“A recluse novelist,” Emmett replied. “Passed away a year ago with no family to speak of, and the county has possession of the house.”

“That explains the price.”

“Luckily for you two,” he added. “And they’re not going to touch the forest around the property, which is all yours. Ten acres, which you could later sell off, if you’re inclined to.”

Mrs. Bensen grinned at her husband, ambitious as she was. “Let’s see the rest of it, George.”

They went inside, through the back screen door. Emmett felt the vines climbing over the gazebo grab hold of the hem of his slacks.

“Not now,” He whispered, before following the newlyweds inside. “We talked about this.”

“Look at this!” Mrs. Bensen pointed to the little door in one of the bedrooms. She bent down and opened it. “Oh, George! It leads to the other bedroom on the other side!”

“Why would a house have that?” He asked Emmett, looking faintly amused at his wife.

“Oh, chamber pots,” he improvised. “The children would share, so I’m told. The local historical society had a newsletter. Apparently houses all around the county had them.”

“It’s charming, our kids can have secrets and bond.” Mrs. Bensen looked at her husband, blinking her beautiful blue eyes at him.

“And the master bedroom?”

“Oh, the master is the pinnacle. There are two, after all.” Emmett told them with a casual smile. “One is at the top of the turret, and the other is on the opposite end.”

They climbed a nice set of spiral steps, which wrapped up around a ‘sitting area’ for the children. A little circular carpet with two nicely staged.

“I always wanted a bedroom with bay windows.” She told her husband, looking out of them as though she were a queen in a tower. “It’s everything.”

“How will our children get up these stairs, Alice? It’s dangerous.”

“Well, we could just take the master on the other side, and wait for them to get old enough that we could trust them up here.”

“It could be a reading nook until then,” Emmett suggested, looking at the empty wall. “Could you imagine bookshelves installed against the walls?” He held out his hands. “And a nice chandelier at the top? Or maybe a poker table in the center of the room and a bar against this wall?”

Mr. Bennett grinned. Every straight man desired a ‘man cave’. He was not unlike any other married man that Emmett showed a house too.

The floorboards creaked under them as they walked to the other side of the house. “This master is in the oldest part of the house. There were multiple constructions, when it comes to houses like these.”

They entered into the master bedroom, with faded cream-colored walls and hardwood. Mr. Bensen made a face at the antique carpet, a dark red and brown affair.

“What are all these symbols?”

Emmett looked down at the satanic runes, and glared at them, just so they’d stop shifting around the weave. “I think those are just designs, Mr. Bensen. The historical society told me this carpet is one-hundred and fifty years old.”

“It smells like dust,” Mrs. Bensen replied. “We’ll have to get rid of it.”

Still, she looked around the spacious room, at the exposed crossbeams above her, and then looked out the window. “What’s that, Emmett?”

“What’s what?” He went over to her, and looked out the window at the tree line, where a small group of crows were gathering in the yard.

“I believe those are birds.” He commented, trying to mask his annoyed tone. It could never be easy with these kinds of houses.

“Crows,” She corrected him. “You don’t think they’ll be a problem with little dogs, will you?”

“I doubt it,” he said. “They’re highly intelligent birds, and will remember you if you’re mean to them. They’ll leave you alone if you leave them alone, I’m sure.”

It was then that one immediately flew into the window, directly at Mrs. Bensen’s powdered face, and slammed into the glass. She startled backwards into an unperturbed Emmett, who caught her politely. They laughed it away, which was a good sign.

“It’s too good to be true.” Mr. Bensen finally told the real estate agent at the end of the tour. “What’s the catch?”

Emmett pursed his lips. “Well, it’s a low price. The garden is significantly overgrown, the driveway is narrow, and it’s a drive into town. But, the truth is, it has everything on your list and it’s a great investment in your future. The property value is only set to appreciate as the county’s economy grows.”

“So you’re saying we should buy this house.”

“I’m saying,” he clarified, “That in twenty years, people will be begging you to buy this land off for development at double or triple the value.”

That was enough for the Bensens.

“I can get the paperwork to you by Friday,” he told them eagerly, shaking both of their hands. “I’m going to go back inside and settle it with the county office.”

And so, the newlyweds left, driving away in their rickety sedan. Emmett let out a small breath and went back inside, locking the door behind him. He made his way to the kitchen where the one phone in the house was installed, and called the property manager.

He felt cold hands curl around his waist as he spoke on the phone, relaying the good news. Finally, someone who was eager to buy this house. It really was a steal, after all. It should have sold sooner. Sharp teeth nibbled at his ears.

Hanging up, he turned to the man, who was smiling at him widely, his teeth appearing sharp for just a moment. His eyes were too wolflike, but he blinked, and they were the same eyes that Emmett gave his soul away to. Handsome and mischievous.

They said that only devils worked in real estate. That was false. The devil only dated men who worked in real estate.

“I take it I did alright?”

“You,” He pressed hot lips into Emmett’s forehead, “were perfect. Hell, I think you could even sell me a house like this.”

Emmett smiled at his boyfriend, but shook his head. “I don’t think I could sell this house to someone with half a brain. You don’t make it easy.”

“That’s what so fun about it,” He wrapped his arm around Emmett. “Let’s pick up the paperwork and get dinner.”

And then, he allowed his partner to lead him out of the house, though the house seemed rather disappointed to see Emmett go. After all, he was their real estate agent.

My First Kiss at the Public Execution - 6

PART 1 - PART 2PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5 - PART 7 - PART 8 - PART 9 - PART 10 - PART 11

a/n: posting this earlier than like midnight cus im gon to see princess mononoke in the theaters tonight and im so fucking hyped i know if i dont do this now i’ll prolly forget for two days so enjoy!! tell me what you think!

@beautifulramblingbrains @frecklefaceb @feminamortem  @anditcametopass @dauntlessmetalmom @pathybo @mimigemrose @ag-delights @abfoster1s @sparklemichele @murmelinchen @jojuarez26 @purple-puddin @audreyfulquard [if you wanna be on the list hmu]

Warning: just a couple of frisky makout scenes, it’s setting up for next chapter with will be very fun to write

Eric X OFC // Divergent Trilogy

word count: 3,541

i wake alone
in a woman’s room i hardly know
i wake alone
and pretend that i am finally home

“Really?” Mae asked eyeing the two relatively small boxes that sat on the bare mattress, “That’s all?”

“Yeah I guess, it’s mostly clothes and gear,” I replied as I slung the black duffel bag over my shoulders then grabbing one case.

“You don’t even have a TV?” she questioned, lifting the last box and heading out the door.

“I never really wanted one,” I shrugged as I took one final look back at the small room I had resided in for the past few years since I’d left Amity for good. I didn’t feel much of anything as I let the door shut behind me. Most of the time I spent there was sleeping or getting dressed, my strongest memory was when I first saw it.

Once I passed initiation and was an official member of Dauntless, I was assigned to this space. We had to spend at least a year here before applying for an apartment, but I never bothered to move out. Until now, that is. Passively accepting what is given to you is very much an Amity trait. It’s more Dauntless to demand better, to take what you deserve.

Keep reading

erunanethiel25  asked:

Hi! Can you continue the flower shop AU with Warren but go into more detail Alex Summers' character? Like continue it with Alex x reader? I don't know I just really loved the AU! Thanks! 😊

Yes, absolutely! Alex Summers is my absolute favourite, so here you go!

A/N: ‘Lydia’ is just what I have named the reader character from the original Florist AU for the purposes of this oneshot to make it easier to read/understand. 

(this was not supposed to be this long when i started j e s u s)

“Yeah, I’m moving down next week. I have the lease on my new place all set up, so I’m actually going to be there pretty soon.” You put your phone on speaker and set it on the kitchen counter in front of you while you pull your leftovers out of the microwave.

“I didn’t realise you’d be down so soon! Doesn’t your job start in like, two months’ time, though?” Lydia asks, her voice a little distorted as it comes through the phone’s tiny speakers.

“Yeah, but I’m finished here and I sort of figured I could get settled or whatever before-” You don’t get to finish the sentence before Lydia cuts you off.

“Oh my god, please work at my shop. Please. You’re in the area and I desperately need time off. It’s just me running the shop like ninety percent of the time and I feel like I haven’t left my fucking flower shop in years and I love it there, but I need a break. Please. I’ll pay you and everything and it’ll only be for a little while but Warren and I just want to take a vacation.”

“Christ, Lyds. Okay I’ll work at your flower shop,” You say, laughing. “Fair warning, though. I know like, fuck all about flowers, so you’ll need to show me what to do.” Her sigh of relief sounds like a rush of static.

“I’ll show you everything. It isn’t that hard, business is way slower in winter. You’ll be fine. I love you. You’re my hero.”

***

At the end of your first day, you already have dirt under your nails from the potted plants and scratches on your hands from rose thorns, but Lydia wasn’t lying. It really wasn’t all that hard. You wait for her to finish locking up, and then she grabs your arm and all but drags you next door into the tattoo parlour where Warren works. When you walk into the building, you are faced with three large, tattooed males, all of whom were in the process of locking up their own shop for the night.

“Guys, this is (Y/N). She’s the reason I am actually able to take a vacation and you should all treat her with the appropriate gratitude,” Lydia addresses the introduction to the two unfamiliar faces, having introduced you to Warren when you first arrived. “(Y/N),” she continues, “This is Alex Summers and his brother Scott,” She gestures to the two of them as she names them. They both dutifully step forwards to shake your hand, and as you take in Alex’s leather jacket and dog tags, you decide that he’s someone you’d like to know better. “Okay, we’re all going out for drinks. No exceptions. Scott, before you start sulking, Jean is meeting us at the bar.” Lydia commands, spinning on her heel and heading for the door, towing you after her.

“God, you haven’t changed a bit since uni,” You quip, sliding into her car, and she sticks her tongue out at you as she pulls away from the curb.

***

The bar is a little noisy, but it’s nice. As you walk in, Lydia pulls you over to the booth Jean is sat at. Scott approaches moments later, slipping in beside Jean and kissing her quickly. Warren and Alex appear soon after, the former holding a tray laden with drinks, all of which are gratefully accepted. They both slip into the remaining spaces in the booth, and if you feel something warm and thrilling stirring in your chest as Alex wedges himself in beside you, then you ignore it.

The six of you quickly fall into a comfortable rhythm, exchange easy conversation and trading old stories about the others, most of which reveal some sort of embarrassing information about a member of the group and are met with groans from the subject of the story and laughter from the remainder. After a while, Jean and Scott duck out, citing fatigue as they leave. As you’re idly watching them walk out, Scott winds an arm around Jean’s waist, pulling her close to him, and Warren smirks across the table at Alex.

“I’m pretty sure your little brother gets laid more often than you do.”

“And how much did he pay you to say that. Go buy me a drink, dickhead. That’s your punishment.” Alex glares back at his friend in mock irritation and you and Lydia collapse into laughter as Warren flips Alex off, slipping out of the booth to get to the bar.

***

It’s an unseasonably warm afternoon for November when you watch Lydia and Warren drive off to the airport. She had insisted on coming in for the morning, making sure you had working keys, instructions for weird plants and alarm codes, but you managed to get her in the car, and now you were stood at the curb, watching her and Warren pull away.

“Make sure you actually see Prague, sweetheart,” you shout teasingly after her. She flips you off out the car window, and you blow a kiss back at her.

“Twenty bucks says they don’t get further than a mile from the hotel” Alex quips, having appeared just behind you. You turn and grin up at him.

‘I’ll take that bet. Prague is on her bucket list, so I reckon they’ll get at least two miles,” You remark, extending a hand to shake on the agreement. Alex laughs and shakes your hand before slinging an arm over your shoulders, and maybe your throat tightens a little, maybe it doesn’t.

“You clearly don’t know how determined Warren is. It will be an absolute pleasure to take your money,” He jokes, and you roll your eyes.

“We’ll see who’s paying up in two weeks’ time, Summers.”

***

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is blaring from the speakers in the flower shop as you haul a potted lemon tree from a shady corner into more direct sunlight. You had closed up at lunch time to re rationalise the yard, and had taken the opportunity to crank the volume on your music. You straighten up, pushing stray hairs out of your eyes as you survey your work, when you suddenly become conscious of someone watching you. Turning around, you see Alex leaning out the window of the tattoo parlour. His sleeves have ridden up, giving you a spectacular view of an intricate spiral tattoo wrapping around one of his biceps, and you find your mouth inexplicably dry.

“What’s up?” You lean against a display bench of herbs in front of you.

“You wanna get a drink with Scott and me after work?” He suggests. “The bar’s kind of a dive, but it’ll be fun.” You arch an eyebrow at him.

“Is there a pool table? It isn’t an official dive bar without a pool table.”

“I can confirm that there is, actually, a pool table.” He smirks at you, clearly amused. “I assume you play?” he asks and all you can do is chuckle at him, because you play pool really fucking well.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

***

You were right. You do kick his ass, and you make a point of rubbing it in, but all he does is laugh good naturedly and offer you his leather jacket as you walk back to where you’d both parked because it’s a cold night and ‘Hey, I’d better show proper deference after such an appropriately termed ass-kicking’. You invite him round for Chinese takeout a few nights later and you start watching Vikings on Netflix, and over a stupidly short amount of time, the two of you fall into a routine that’s almost domestic, which feels ridiculous sometimes because, much to your disappointment, you’re not actually dating.

You catch yourself staring at him, or finding excuses to lean on him and when he smiles at you, you feel something in your chest tighten and you know you’re attracted to him, but you’re friends, and it’s great, so you just leave it be. And if you feel like he might be staring too, then you do your best to ignore it because if legal adulthood meant dealing with your feelings like an adult, then no one had told you about that particular rule.

***

Lydia and Warren got back from Prague that afternoon. You had grilled them about their trip, looked at the appropriate photos and then promptly sent them to sleep off the long plane flight. Lydia had put up a weak protest when you firmly informed her that you could handle the shop the next day because she clearly needed to recover from her jetlag, but protest aside, keeping her home had not taken a lot of convincing.

Just as you’re locking up for the night, Alex appears, leaning against the doorway.

“Wanna finish up ‘Vikings’ tonight? We can get Chinese from just up the road.” He suggests, and as he smiles languidly at you, you find yourself wondering if he’s aware of just how attractive he is or if his effortless confidence is just a well-engineered facade. You return his smile without a second thought

“Yes to both.”

As the credits roll on the last episode of the season, you look at your phone and pull a face.

“Ugh, I should go. I open before you do, so I should get some sleep.” And you head to the door, grabbing your wallet and car keys off the table and toeing your shoes back on. Your hand is on the doorhandle when he grabs your arm, stopping you from going.

“Wait, here.” He pulls a crumpled $20 out of his pocket and holds it out to you. You frown slightly in confusion.

“No, Alex, I said dinner was on me-”

“The bet. You won, remember? Lyds and Warren made it all the way to Salzburg, so I owe you $20.” He reminds you. Your gaze darts between the twenty in his hand and his eyes and you make a split second decision, because you’ve always been good at not overthinking things.

“How about I change the terms slightly.” You suggest, and he arches an eyebrow.

“What did you have in mind?” He asks, and you’re still not thinking about it because if you do, you’ll stop now, and you really, really don’t want to stop.

“Something like this.” And you grab a fistful of his shirt, yanking him towards you and pulling his lips down hard to yours. He responds immediately, his arms going around your waist and hauling your body against his. His lips are soft and perfect against yours, but your pulse is beating wildly in your ears and all you’re really aware of is that you’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back and all you can think is fucking finally. His teeth graze against your lower lip and your knees go weak and you’re pretty sure that he’s most of the reason you’re still upright but you can’t find it in you to care.

He drags his lips from yours, mouthing hotly at your jaw and down to your neck and the moan he draws out of you as he nips at the skin on your collarbone makes him pull back and smirk arrogantly down at you.

“You don’t need that much sleep, do you?”

Each Flight has certain physical differences that make it easy for a dragon to look at another and go “yep, that’s ____ Flight”. Obviously eye colour is one, but more specialized traits gradually developed too.

For example, Wind Flight dragons are more lightweight and have larger wingspans, Arcane Flight dragons sometimes hatch with extra vestigal limbs or other physical oddities, Shadow Flight dragons are lankier and have a specific gait that muffles their footsteps, Lightning Flight dragons often have a more pronounced variant of the Spines gene, etc.

There are also specific differences for each breed based off Flight. A Wind Tundra might have a shorter coat and look more “streamlined”, while a Wind Snapper would look more like a fat, scaly jetplane. Lightning Tundras, on the other hand, would have a thick year-long winter coat to trap static electricity (and look a bit like a very angry pomeranian).

There are even differences influenced by Clan and lineage! While two Wind Flight Clans might have the same general “Wind Flight” feel to them, the way it’d express itself would vary depending on which Clan the dragon(s) belong to. One Clan might have the “streamlined” Tundra variant, but another Clan’s Tundras might actually be fluffier to protect themselves from the chill of high altitudes.

Flight/Clan traits are passed down genetically, although due to Deity influence the primary traits are the ones associated with said Deity. With that said, it’s still common for a mixed-Flight Shadow nest to be hatched with the hatchlings receiving the ability to shoot blood from their eyes like a horny toad from their Plague parent, or for an Earth nest’s Spirals to grow vines wrapping around them as they age.

In short, between breeds, genes, colours, Flights, and Clan differences, no two dragons look the same.