suit sway

In the Corner

Summary: based off this imagine given to me by @n-octicolor

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Word Count: 3k (whoooooop go me!!!!)

Warnings: cheesy fluff, dry humping (hUMP THAT LEG LADIES), Cas comes without u even TOUCHIN HIM (bc thats hot), language, slight dirty talk

A/N: I didnt proofread this. I’ll go back and fix any stupid errors tomorrow. :-) enjoy!

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“You got 20 minutes, princess!”

“Shit,” you muttered, getting out of your chair and practically running down the hall to your bedroom.

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BTS Reacts - Drunkenly Trying To Hook Up With Them

request via dms: “a BTS react to you being drunk at a party and maybe try to hook up with him?”


Park Jimin: Would be trying it hardest to not sweep you off your feet and carry you into his bedroom. All night, you’ve been running your hand up and down his thigh, giving him promiscuous looks that give him glimpses into a promise of an unforgettable night - at a party, no less. He wants this so badly, but he doesn’t want to move things too quickly, especially since you’re friends. The last straw is when you whisper into his ear, playfully nibbling on his earlobe when no one is watching - he is just about to explode. He wets his lips and faces you, with a heavy sigh. 

“Please stop. I don’t think I can hold myself down much longer if you keep doing this.”

Kim Taehyung: Taehyung would be returning the favour of playing with your hair and running his fingers across your skin every so often, knowing well that you wanted to spend the night with him. He tells himself he won’t let it get any farther than that, but the more distance your hands cover on his body, the more difficult it gets for him to hold back. Tae values your friendship too much to risk it on a single drunken night, but does he ever want to pounce on the opportunity to sleep with you. When you bite down on your lip coyly, he turns to look up at the ceiling, chuckling to himself.

“I can’t - god, if you’re listening, please get me through this party without me giving in and doing unspeakable things.”

Min Yoongi: Pretty much wants to bone you, but this man has too much of a conscience to do it when you’re drunk, when he’s not. The situation would be different if he’s inebriated too, but Yoongi can hold his liquor well - it doesn’t stop him from thinking about the things he would do to you, and it doesn’t help that you’re begging for it, which majorly turns him on. You tug on his jacket, pulling him away from the crowd and into a hallway, pushing yourself up against his body. He smiles at your effort to hook up with him; he might just start drinking more at the next party.

“You’d better slow it down, or you’re going to regret ever coming on to me. I’m not as nice a person in bed.”

Jeon Jungkook: Being young, Jeon Jungkook can also act as brashly as you, even when he’s not under the influence. He wants to reciprocate the act of you flirting with him, but whenever he gets close enough to try anything with you, you keep him at bay. You’re playing a game that he can’t seem to win at, and Kook, more than anything, hates it when he can’t win. He feels the sexual frustration rising in the pit of his stomach. In the midst of the clamor happening around you at the party, he glares at you; the corner of his lips twitches in response to your smugness.

“Don’t tempt me. Keep it up, and you’ll see what happens when you toy with me - don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jung Hoseok: He’s usually good at not letting his urges overcome him when he’s faced with an attractive person. However, you’re completely drunk off your ass; he sort of is too. It’s a million times harder to resist your advances. As much as he wants to treat you the way you wanted him to that night, he knows it’s wrong to act on his desires, especially in this state. Hobi tries to get away from you as you’re driving him completely nuts, so he moves to the dance floor to cool off from your little ploy - which he instantly regrets when you follow suit, swaying up against his body.

“Aish… you’re making me go crazy, you little devil. I’m not going to forget this.”

Kim Seokjin: Jin may be the nicest man on earth, but he’s still a man. He has his desires too, and you’re not exactly of any help when you propose to sleep together in the middle of a party. The lump in his throat moves subtly, wondering if it’s such an outrageous idea. He’s always looked at you with yearning eyes, so when you offer yourself on a silver platter, he has to take a second to re-evaluate the sudden thirst he feels. Jin wants this, but he has to be sure that you’re not looking for anything more than a fling - if it’s going to ruin his chances of having a proper future with you, he’ll abstain.

“You should take that back, or I won’t be able to stop myself. Let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk about it tomorrow morning.”

Kim Namjoon: Namjoon, in truth, can be shy, often stammering and looking away when he’s complimented, let alone hit on by someone. That isn’t the case when alcohol’s involved. His hidden confidence shines through when he’s tipsy; he’s a lot more daring with his charms. When you get handsy with him under the table at a party, implying that you wanted to hook up with him, he winks at you enticingly. He knows he’s going to regret saying this (he does, and when he wakes up, he buries himself in his sheets, embarrassed that he even said it), but does so anyway:

“Baby, you know I’d want nothing more than this - but I want you to see you brave enough to come on to me when you’re sober - we’ll take it from there.”


I hope you all have had a good Valentine’s Day, by yourself or otherwise! I love each and everyone of you, remember that! If you’re ever lonely or in need of someone to talk to or listen to you, don’t be afraid to drop me a message or an ask.

In the meantime, here’s BTS struggling to keep it in their pants - because you deserve it. Enjoy this react! <3

Secrets

A/N: This is for @yourtropegirl​. It’s probably not exactly what you might have been imagining, but I tried.


Expert Witness. It was a nerve wracking title but you were up for a challenge! And that is how you had come to meet ADA Rafael Barba.

To say he was obnoxious would be an understatement. But for some reason, beyond your comprehension, you felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke. Having worked with Mr. Barba on several cases, you realized that there was more to the man than just his big brass … ego. His snappy suspenders and suave suits certainly swayed your decision to make a move.

“Mr. Barba!” you called as Rafael closed his briefcase and walked out of courtroom.

He turned and smiled, “nice work today!”

Being on the receiving end of a genuine Rafael Barba smile was quite the delightful experience. You stared at Rafael, suddenly at a loss for words. What had he just said?

“Are you alright?” you heard Rafael say.

“Yes, yes, sorry Mr. Barba. I just … had a moment,” you laughed nervously.

“Don’t we all!”

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itssciencefitz  asked:

60 + Fitzsimmons?? Love your fics. 💕

Thank you so much darling!! here is a very fluffy fic! i hope you enjoy :D

60. “You are my sunshine.”

Fitz moaned when he heard the sound of baby Peggy crying. She must be hungry, he thought as he turned to look at the clock telling him it was almost two in the morning. Jemma had been coming in late the past few nights, so he usually took night shifts when it came to their new little addition.

He didn’t mind really. He just wished that Jemma didn’t have to stay up so late. She also came home and went straight to bed.  

However, just as Fitz was about to role out of the covers the crying stopped. He stood to his tired feet rubbing his eyes. Fitz slowly crept towards the baby’s room as be began to hear something. Someone was singing, but not just any someone. His wife was singing.

He peered into the door of the pink room and saw Jemma still in her work suit holding Peggy and swaying back and forth. He leaned against the frame and folded his arms as he to listen to song.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” Jemma sang smiling down at her daughter.

Fitz loved seeing them together. His daughter may have been born looking like him, but she would be like her mother. He was sure of it.

“You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Fitz walked in quietly as Jemma placed Peggy back into her crib. He slipped his arms around Jemma’s waste and held her tight. She jumped slightly at his touch, but realizing it was him she relaxed.

“You scared me,” she whispered to him as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “But I was enjoying the little concert you were giving our daughter.”

Jemma scoffed. “I’m not much for singing, but at least it gets her to sleep.”

“You must be sleepy yourself,” Fitz turning her so he could see if she had dark circles around her eyes. Sure enough there they were. Her eyes were blood shot and her skin pale.

“Come on,” said Fitz as he rested his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The two walked side by side into their bedroom. But Jemma moved away so that she could change clothes.

As Fitz plopped down on the bed he watched as Jemma gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom. His head cocked to one side. She had been doing this for a while now. Fitz wasn’t sure when or why this practice had started. When they had first become a couple they had changed clothes in front of each other all the time.

When Jemma returned from the bathroom in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of Fitz’s boxers she couldn’t help but stare at her. Jemma always looked beautiful.

She caught him looking at her. His admiring gaze used to make her laugh. Jemma would usually make some sort of jest about how he looked like a wolf looking at his prey. But this time was different. Jemma turned her head down and looked slightly nervous.

“Jemma, are you alright?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied not looking at him and smiling all the same.

“I don’t think you are.”

“Really now Fitz. Are you saying you know me better than I do?” Jemma let out an odd sort of laugh. It wasn’t a real laugh.

Fitz raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, I just think you’re keeping something from me. I wish you’d tell me what’s on your mind.”

Jemma paused as she placed her workbag in the closet. She was clearly deep in thought. Then she turned from the closet to look at Fitz. Her mouth was slightly open now and tears were beginning to well in her eyes.

“Please talk to me Jemma,” Fitz insisted. He held out his hand to her and she took it. “Why won’t change in front of me anymore?”

She looked frightened now. Jemma was clearly doing her best to hold back tears. “Carrying Peggy took its toll. I have stretch marks now. My skin is wrinkly and saggy. I- I’m not… I’m not pretty anymore Fitz. I don’t even really like seeing my naked body in the mirror, so I didn’t want you to see me.”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile as he took both of Jemma’s hands in his. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her fingers. “Oh my dear wife. That’s not at all how I see it.”

Jemma starred at him pitifully. Yet there was hope and longing in those big brown eyes.

Fitz tried to look at his wife with as much love as he could muster. “Come here,” he said sitting her in front of him. His finger took hold of the end of her t-shirt, but she grabbed his hands stopping him. “Please Jemma,” Fitz said trying to sooth her doubt. After a moment she relaxed and allowed him to continue.

She lifted her arms as Fitz pulled the shirt over her head. Then she looked away from him. She bit her lip and closed her eyes tight. “I’ve been trying to work out and diet. But nothing seems to be working very well.”

Fitz looked down at his wife’s stomach and her breasts. It was true they didn’t look like they did when they first got married. But none of that mattered to him. “Jemma this stomach, this body, your body, is this most beautiful thing in the world to me. You carried our child inside of you for nine months. You’ve given me the gift of a child.” Then he leaned down and began kissing the stretch marks on her stomach and moved all the way up until he reached her face. Fitz ran his fingers over her frame lovingly.

There were tears streaming down her beautiful freckled cheeks. Her eyes were wide and filled with admiration. Then she leaned in for a real kiss, a kiss that made them both shudder.

Fitz felt like he was on could nine. The way Jemma was looking at him was simply magical. “Jemma, you are my sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You and Peggy both do,” Fitz said taking his wife’s face between his hands.

“Fitz you are too much,” Jemma laughed through her tears.

“I mean it,” Fitz stated. “No matter what, you’ll always be beautiful to me. Even when we’re old and are both as wrinkly as raisins, you will still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jemma then threw her arms around Fitz neck and kissed him again. They didn’t kiss much longer. Soon the two fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms. That was their favorite way to sleep.

send me a prompt! :)

anonymous asked:

Could I ask for a Sakura (anyone), in the AU of an 80's movie setting?

not sure how 80s this is but I love it!

also, modern-ish au of my fic [hands like houses]


Sakura groaned quietly under her breath, waving a jaunty goodbye to the other counselors. She couldn’t believe her campers! They hadn’t shown up for any of their activities today! After a day of teaching adolescents to kayak and also securing her place as undisputed champion of flag football, Sakura was exhausted in that sore, exhilarating kind of way. She didn’t want to have to reprimand her charges but really, their obsession was getting ridiculous.

She looked up at the shabby cabin decked out in hand painted tapestries created by Sakura and all of her campers. She always kept their gifts.

“Boys,” Sakura thundered, walking into the room.

Her three most contrary campers sat on the floor, looking up at her guiltily.

Sakura couldn’t help but falter a little at their bright eyes and mischievous smiles. She loved them. Still….

“What have you been doing in here all day?” Sakura demanded, looking at their strewn papers, figures, and dice. “You didn’t even have your Dungeon Master here!”

Danzō was the only one who would meet her eyes. “We just…we got carried away.”

Sakura snorted at Danzō’s easy way of understating the matter at hand. “You boys are all too obsessed. I never should have introduced you to the game.”

“No!” Kagami said, throwing himself at her leg. “You can’t!”

Torifu and Danzō quickly followed suit. Sakura swayed beneath their combined weight, laughing.

“I can do as I please,” Sakura said, teasing clear in her tone.

“Don’t!” Torifu begged. “We came up with some ideas for the next campaign!”

Danzō nodded, grabbing a sheaf of papers rife with drawings of their characters.

Sakura softened completely as she looked over their bright pictures of Dwarves and Dragonborns and Halflings. They may be completely fanatical but they were passionate.

“I won’t put the board up on one condition,” Sakura said.

“Anything!” they chorused.

“Keep up with all your other activities,” Sakura said. “You guys do not play without me. You’re here for the summer; you need to get to know the other campers and not stay cooped up in here!”

“But we don’t want to meet anyone else,” Kagami whined. “We just want to hang out with you!”

“You’re the best counselor here,” Torifu added.

Sakura snorted, ruffling their hair. “I’m not sure how accurate that is but I’ll take it.”

“Yo, Sakura!” Tobirama called, poking his head in through the doorway. He observed the chaos of the room and his smile widened. The henna tattoos that Sakura did for him at the beginning of the summer were still a bright, brilliant red. “You guys coming out for s’mores?”

Sakura nodded, breaking free of her charges’ hold to rummage through a drawer. “Hold up a sec, Tobi,” she said, ignorant of her campers’ dark gazes as they looked at ‘Tobi.’ Danzō shifted to stand a bit in front of Sakura. “Here it is!” she said triumphantly, tossing him a cassette tape. “You asked for my newest mix at archery yesterday.”

Tobirama’s smile was soft and sweet and flashing a danger sign to the young campers as he regarded Sakura. “Thanks,” he said, backing out of the doorway. “See you at the campfire!”

Sakura turned back to her campers who straightened up. “C’mon squirts,” she said. “Time to embrace the wild!”

The Robron Break-Ups : A Definitive Guide (Part 2/Infinity)

*** UPDATED BECAUSE I LEGITIMATELY ALREADY MANAGED TO MISS ONE. I AM A HUMAN DISASTER. SO. NOW IT’S ACCURATE. YAY. ***

Part One / All

In this, the second part of the Robron Rejection Compendium, we look at the next 5 break-ups, even more honourable mentions and I start to cry about feelings, just a little bit. Go get yourself a cup of tea and settle in, because this part is way longer than it has any right to be.

(Also, to throw in a quick serious moment before i start cracking manslaughter jokes again, thank you so much for your kind comments and tags and likes etc for part one. I was kind of completely overwhelmed by the fact that people even took time to read it, because I wrote it half giggling to myself at how no one would be able to make it to the end of the thing. So, yes. I mean this with every bloody ounce of sincerity I have in my entire body - thank you so much for taking the time to read it. You all kind of made my evening.)

Anyway, on to Part Two and an honourable mention to kick things off…

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anonymous asked:

this is obviously old news but pls give your input on that jikook moment where they're wearing white suit jackets & swaying together bc they think no one's watching

thats my fav moment……… it was the most intimate moment that rly Sealed the Deal for me.. i knew there was no going back after i saw that.. i mean the way jungkook held onto his waist and how jimin just fell back against him.. it was so candid and real and it felt intrusive to even watch it.. it almost seemed different from the other backhugs bc there was nothing rly that playful about it. jungkook jst. wanted to backhug jimin and sway to the music when there was no one watching. he didnt do it for the fans. thats the part that fcked me up the most. there was no one he did that for but himself

Occupied [a James March imagine]

Request: Can u please do an imagine where the reader was getting jelouse because James was blowing her off to do some business with a girl so the reader try’s to make him jelouse by wearing somethin scandalous out in the hotel & it then leads to them arguing

a/n: ah yis some jealous jjjaaaaameees I’M NOT DOIN PART 2


You’ve had it with your husband.  Every day he was out ‘doing business’ with some girl. It’s making you extremely annoyed. So, you’re going to do something about it. Right now. 

Before leaving the hotel room, you check your makeup and hair once more through the mirror, fixing the little things. Pulling your aquamarine strapless dress down, you make sure a bit of your chest shows and smile at yourself. You look and feel hot. 

Stepping out in your pumps, you strut down the hallway; a smirk practically printed on your lips. You get in the elevator, pressing the floor that your husband is at. The ding signals for you to exit, walking into the lobby. Some of the residents’ heads turn, gawking at your beauty. 

You sashay to an empty chair, crossing your legs after you take a seat. “Liz, can you please make me a drink?” You call, sighing as you peer up at her. She smiles, nodding. A minute later, her heels click on the carpet. “Oh, you are such a doll, thank you!” You beam, taking the cocktail from her.

She smiles, clasping her hands and then waving one. “Anything for you, Y/N!” She laughs before looking over her shoulder. Behind her is your husband, sitting with a skinny women, eyeing you. “I think Mr. March over there isn’t too happy…by the way, love the outfit!” She chuckles, gesturing to you. 

“Why thank you! I think everyone does except Mr. Old Man.” You joke, grinning wide. One could argue that you appeared like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, and would you look at that? Here he comes. I’ll talk to you later, Liz. Thank you again.” You drink some of the cocktail, winking at her as she goes back to the bar.

James’ suit jacket sways as he stomps across the lobby; face red and hairs sticking from the gel. You wave your fingers teasingly. “What in gods name are you wearing?!” He screams, almost poking you in the side with his cane. “It’s… It’s preposterous! Go change before people start having unholy thoughts about my wife!” He stresses, grabbing your upper arm, leaning on his cane heavily. 

You shake your head, pulling away from him. His dark eyes widen, mouth twitching. “No James.” You object, “It’s not fair! You get to flirt with everyone and I’m…I’m like your fucking pet!” You scream, stomping away from him. 

The hotel is dead silent as you fumble to the room, slamming the door behind you. James follows after you, standing outside. He knows he can just pop in, being a ghost, but he doesn’t want you to be more mad. So, he flings his cane up to knock on the tan wood, sliding it back down to support himself. “Darling, it is I. Please understand; I cannot have people thinking in that way about my wife! You are not a pet, you are my wife! I am terribly sorry if I have been preoccupied with my business; today was our final meeting… Darling…” He whispers, looking down. 

Folding your arms, you huff. When you open the door finally, his head snaps up. Angrily, you grab his gray ascot, pulling him in. Almost automatically, your lips are attacking his. “My queen…this-” he groans as the buttons on his vest pop off, some falling to the carpet. “This is exquisite, I-”

"Shut up. You’re my pet tonight.” You growl, taking his cane from his grip and throwing it. James smiles wickedly; happiest fucker in the world.

Abri: an Adult Faith Ficlet

I’m very pleased to present my first Adult Faith AU ficlet! This is a direct continuation from Part 13 of For a Lost Daughter. 

The full For a Lost Daughter story can be found both on my Master List and on A03 . I am currently accepting asks for this AU. If you’d like to make a suggestion for a future ficlet, please do so here. 

Enjoy! 

♡ Bonnie

About the photo 


Abri: an Adult Faith Ficlet 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

She started at the sound of my voice, but quickly recovered, glancing up from the fire with a wan smile. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t.

Our reunion back in the clearing by the stones had been long and slow; sweet and deep. It had been everything. Meant everything, to all of us.

But the instant we had peeled ourselves off the ground, reality had descended in the form of Faith tripping and coming face-to-face with one of the dead men. She had vomited, then staggered to her feet, shaking like a leaf and staring wildly from one corpse to the next, to the next. She must never have seen a dead body before. And here, in the course of one night, she had personally killed at least two of the seven that littered the clearing. The precise details were as yet still unclear, but it hardly seemed the time to push for them. The euphoria of our reunion aside, Faith had gone through a harrowing battle that very nearly cost her her life, and trauma does not vanish quickly from one’s memory. Jamie and I had cause to know.

Jamie had taken her into his arms, speaking loudly and firmly to reach her through her panic,“Ye did well, lass… Ye did what ye came to do….We’re all safe….You’re no’ alone…Ye dinna have anything more to fear tonight… Ye did well…

He met my eye over the top of her head. “You two should go now. Follow the creek back down to the shore. There was a sheltered cove not far from the wee dock. If ye can get a fire started for us, we shall make camp there for the night.

And you?” I said, rubbing Faith’s back as she stepped back from Jamie, drawing in deep, stertorous breaths and wiping her eyes clumsily. “What will you do?

Find Fergus, to start. We’ll join ye once we’ve… taken care of things here.” Once they’d buried the bodies, he meant. It was almost a shame. Variously hacked by sword or hatchet blow, or shriveled and blackened as if engulfed by fire, the bodies would have been a bloody good warning for other would-be assassins: don’t trifle with angry Frasers.

God, I thought, remembering the carnage and watching her, curled in on herself and staring blankly into the fire, small wonder she was still shaken. I’d encouraged her to change out of her bloody clothes even before the fire was lit, and to wash as best she could in the creek. To purge as many of the sensory vestiges of the night as possible. The bullet wound in her side had vanished before I’d even had a chance to inspect it. My curiosity had been piqued, but I had tucked it away for later, along with so many other burning questions. We had all the time in the world to learn about each other. For now, she needed rest.

As I watched her, tender concern suddenly transmuted into a deep, clenching ache of anxiety. She was no more than ten feet from me, but I couldn’t shake the sense of impending danger, the irrational fear that something would come in the night and snatch her away from me. I forced myself to lay still for a time, but my insides churned so wildly in silent anxiety that I couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Faith, can I… would you be willing to…to sleep near me?” I cringed the instant It left my lips. She’s a grown woman, for Christ’s sake; you’re treating her like a child.

But she was already halfway over to me by the time I’d started to stammer out more explanation. I felt a lump rise in my throat when she settled not near me, but against me, letting me wrap my arms around her. I blinked back the moisture that had sprung to my eyes, and sighed in relief as I reveled in the solid warmth of her in my arms, “Thank you, sweetheart…It’s silly, I know, but–”

“It isn’t,” she said, softly, but with no hesitation, nestling her head in the crook of my shoulder. “We both need it tonight…un abri.

A shelter. A place where one is safe. I gently cradled her against me, spreading my hands wide, trying to transmit to her as much peace as her touch was bringing to me. A memory flickered.

“When your father and I married, you know, we were practically strangers. I didn’t even learn his real name until a few minutes before the vows. But in those days afterward, we found that as long as we were touching in some way, all the nerves and fears and doubts went away. Even the ones of one another.”

She brought her arm up to rest across my middle and squeezed lightly. I stroked her hair, resting my lips against her forehead. Feeling the contour of one soft protuberance under the curly mane, I smiled. “Have you really always hated your ears?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “There was a little boy in the village when I was about 5 or 6 who teased me for them and called me Fae the monkey. The words rhymed in his language, and it took me years to get away from that nickname!”

“‘Faye?’” I said, craning my neck to look at her in puzzlement.

“What?” She looked puzzled, too. Then comprehension dawned, “Yes, Fae. F-a-e. That is what Raymond always called me. Short for ‘Faith’, I suppose, though I never knew it wasn’t my real name. Not until…” She suddenly jerked and sat halfway up. Even in the glow of the fire, I could see she was blushing. “I’m sorry, I–I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”

Clearly I must have reacted to the name. I looked down and saw that my hands had clenched into fists subconsciously at mention of him. But I chose to ignore my anger, taking care to keep my face and voice light, rolling the word on my tongue. “Fae. Its pretty! A nose for irony, though, Raymond, hasn’t he?’”

She laughed, sitting all the way up to adjust her blanket more snugly around her shoulders. “Yes, it was always quite a conversation-starter. Every traveler has a story about being mistaken for a fairy or the like.”

I could write a book,” I said, dryly. But a thought had just occurred to me, and I touched her shoulder anxiously, “Does it bother you for us to call you ‘Faith,’ sweetheart? I’m terribly sorry, we should never have assumed…If you’d prefer, we can —”

“Oh, no!” she said, earnestly, “It doesn’t bother me, not at all! I’ll answer to either name, but I like to hear it. Faith.” She smiled genuinely back at me, eyes sparkling. I’d always wanted blue eyes when I was younger. Now, I could see a good approximation of the completed look. And God, it was breathtaking.

But all at once, her smile went slack. She paused a moment before meeting my eye, voice small. “I am not sure what I should call you.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but then closed it. I wasn’t sure either. To Bree, I was Mama. To Marsali, Mother Claire. I certainly couldn’t conscience her calling me Milady or Madame as Fergus insisted upon. Deciding, I patted her arm reassuringly. “You should call me whatever feels natural to you, darling. Claire will do, if nothing else suits.”

She nodded, swaying precariously on her propped hand. Her eyelids were drooping so heavily, I thought she would fall asleep the next second. I coaxed her to lie down again, and she curled snugly against me. My shoulder and arm, trapped beneath her weight, quickly went to pins and needles, but I didn’t care. It was a pittance compared to the joy of having this person, this daughter, alive and here in my arms.

I just barely caught it, right before I slipped under into hazy dreams. A soft, warm whisper on the night air.

“Maman.”


Updated: Continue reading with The Weight of a Debt 

I showed my mom 5 jikook moments. The one where Jungkook checks Jimin out during a photoshoot, along with the one where Jungkook films him while saying “I want you” 3 times and jimin getting all shy. I also showed her the recent “back hug scene” in the fire behind the scenes mv. I made her watch five minutes of the recent jikook vapp. The final thing I showed her was the back hug where they were wearing white suits and swaying and leaning on each other and her only comment was “yeah, they’re definitely dating.”

This Side of Paradise Part [1/?]

When it’s all over she thinks they were stupid. Stupid, or naive. Enough to think that any event in Mystic Falls would be different from the rest. It’s Mystic freaking Falls for crying out loud. This town is known for two things; its constantly decreasing population and town events gone haywire.

Still, she lets herself hope. Hope that maybe her life would be able to attain the slightest bit of normalcy.

“Are you sure you want to come to this?” Matt asks her.

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August II

Part I

Liam remembers every time he asked you asked you a question and how it felt to ask. Every inch of his body, inside and out ached and shook like he was going to explode. Every bold move he proposed was mirrored with a worried and nervous question. Everything he asked you made him revert back to that first question he asked back in high school. He had written you a sonnet in English class and at the end of describing how beautiful you were to him, his couplet ended:

I’d be honored to attend prom, if heard,
Please say to me that ‘yes,’ will be the word.

Then he asked you to be his girlfriend and honestly there was no way you’d be able to say no. He stole your heart the moment you looked at him. But that didn’t stop him from being nervous every time he asked you a question. You smiled at him as he stammered through him asking you the second biggest question he could ask you at the moment. “Li,” you said softly when he refused to meet your eyes. “Li, I won’t answer until you look at me.”

“I can’t,” he whispered sadly looking at the floor. “If you say no, I will never be able to make eye contact with you again,” his voice shook. “This way, when you say no, I won’t see the pity or rejection in your eyes. I can still look at you…” You tilted his chin up and you smiled at him sweetly as you looked into those deep brown eyes.

“Liam James Payne, why on earth would I ever say ‘no’ to such a beautiful boy?” You whispered and kissed his lips softly. He moaned and held onto you in fear of falling over. He was so overcome with relief and happiness. You were officially his.

Liam was so cautious and nervous about everything. “Can I touch you?” He asked the first time the two of you slept together. Despite his nerves…his hands were warm, gentle, and sure. He continuously asked if you were okay, if it felt good, if you were happy, if everything was alright. “I know it’s going to hurt and I really don’t want it to…so we can stop whenever you want to,” he promised and you knew he meant it. You knew that if he was mid-thrust he’d stop if you asked. But you told him you were fine and he made you feel beautiful and loved. He kept asking a hundred times if you were okay and it was the kindest thing to this day that has ever happened to you. “I love you so much,” he whispered just before you fell asleep tangled in a mess of sweaty limbs.

He cried at your wedding. He couldn’t believe how someone so beautiful could be his, wanted to be his…he cried more that night he held you in his arms in the honeymoon suite, while you swayed around the candlelit room. “You’re really mine,” he sniffled and buried his face in your neck. You sighed softly at the sweet but broken boy as you tried to mend his fragile heart.

“Liam, I’ve always been yours,” you reminded him.

You knew that the part of Liam that wrote sonnets for you, and the part that was shy to ask you questions was still inside him. Liam was scared of your rejection. He adored you so much and he never felt good enough. “Liam, baby?” You whispered softly. The two of you were facing one another on the couch. You were going through files and Liam was reading a book for the English class he had to teach. The kids were asleep and you were watching the sweet boy who captured your heart so many years ago.

“Hmm?” He hummed as he continued reading. You crawled across the sofa and sat in his lap pushing the book aside. He couldn’t understand how after ten years you were still this adorable little thing that was like a little kitten. He adored you. His hands cupped the back of your neck and one hip. His hand played with your hair and he pulled you toward him so you were nice and close.

“May I ask you something?” You asked. He nodded shyly. “What can I do to prove to you that you’re good enough for me?” You asked softly.

He blushed and looked at you shyly. “Uh…baby, I–”

“Don’t be shy, because it’s just me,” you reminded him. “So what?” You asked. “Because I want you to know that. You are good enough. Always have been. Always will be,” you promised not moving your gaze from his.

He shook his head. “I’m not though…I’m just the guy that…stole your affection with poems and…” he sighed. “You’re a beauty queen…I don’t compare.”

You sighed and cupped his face and leaned forward to place a kiss on his birthmark. “Don’t put me on a pedestal, for a moment, please,” you said softly. “Let me put you there for a change. Do you know what I see when I look at you?” You asked.

He bit his lip shyly and swallowed. “I know you think I’m—”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Liam. I don’t think you’re good enough. I know you’re good enough. I know, because when I look at you, I see a brave individual who survived the horrors of high school, who got a wonderful degree in English. I see the sweetest soul who cares more about a broken, new girl, who was shy and uncomfortable with bullies, than she’ll ever care about herself. When I look at you, I see a strong man who will support whatever decision I make, anything our children believe in. When I look at you, I see the infectiously cute boy who was so close to losing it the day I met him and when I looked into his eyes I saw a flicker of hope. No one has ever put that kind of faith in me and I adore you for that. When I look at you, I see a never-ending wealth of knowledge, a best friend, a loyal angel, a wonderful father to two beautiful children, and a fantastic husband to the luckiest girl on the planet,” you whispered. “I love you. And I will never stop loving you. If you don’t believe you’re good enough for me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, but I promise you, Liam,” you said softly and dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re more than enough. More than I deserve,” you kissed his forehead.

He could barely breathe. God you were his angel. You pulled him close and snuggled into his chest. “I love you so, so much,” he whispered and his voice was a bit choked off with emotion. “I’m so lucky to have met you,” he mumbled into your hair. “I will do everything to make you happy,” he vowed.

“You always make me happy, Li,” you sighed softly and listened to his heart beat. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” you whispered. He loved you so much as you cuddled up to him and you sighed softly. “Do you know you’re good enough?” You asked.

“I must have done something right to get you,” he whispered. You smiled and cupped his face and pressed your lips on his. His heart fluttered rapidly in his chest. He hoped that feeling never went away.

And because your heart threatened to fly away too, you were pretty sure that it would never go away either.

Ten/Rose AU: Triboelectric {1/10}

Pairing: Ten/Rose
Genre: Alternate Universe
Rating: Teen.
Summary: “The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”
― C.G. Jung

One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight / Nine / Ten / AO3.



Chapter One: Charged Encounters

{{ May, One Year Ago }}

The problem with having had three breakups in the span of twelve months was that your friends all thought it was their duty to help you. They meant well, of course. There was no doubt about that aspect of it: they did it because they cared.

Rose was grateful, she really was.

Especially considering that the first step was always: provide alcoholic drinks. Copious amounts, to be consumed liberally over the course of the first post-breakup week. Amy was good at this.

Second step: dramatically and vehemently blacken the ex in question’s personality, character, and physical traits; all the while insisting that it had been willful deceit and emotional fuckery of the highest order that had blindsided one, and not idiocy on one’s part for having not seen it coming because jerks always excelled at hiding their asshattery. Amy was really good at this, too. The Scottish accent helped.

Third step: round up an endless line of single acquaintances and start hinting that love could be found once more.

It was a set-up, alright.

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anonymous asked:

WA prompt: Iris is kidnapped, and Barry is going out of his mind with anger and worry until he finally finds her (injured but other than that, fine). Pleeeeeeease?

Ask and ye shall receive! :) I hope this is good enough, nonnie! <3


If you asked Barry Allen what his most treasured memory with his now-girlfriend was, he’d probably tell you that it was a tie between the time he got her a replica of her mother’s wedding band for Christmas and the first night that they made love in their shared apartment.

The feel of warm skin against his fingers when he slipped the necklace around her; the pressure of her mouth against his as she straddled him. Both moments had been seared into his mind, a cacophony of feelings that stretched between them like rivers with a too-fast current.

That was why he shook now, with numbness and nausea coalescing inside him.

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Darkness

TITLE: Darkness

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One

AUTHOR tomcuddlesfic

WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki

GENRE: fluff / romance

FIC SUMMARY: Loki tries to protect the OC.

RATING: T 

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: i REALLY don’t know what the hell is happening and i wrote this on a whim and i don’t think i will continue but yeah tell me what you think cause i don’t ever write loki and yeah lost control of my life

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