the august one is sitting on the other side of my bed

twitter

pairing: lin x reader

prompt: twitter war/their love story (told through twitter tho)

warnings: mentions of sex, swearing?

words: 1,528

a/n: bc i fell in love with hamilbye’s chicken nugget fic (no like seriously it’s the cutest thing i’ve read in my entire life this isn’t even half as good but i hope you like it anyways :)



February 22, 2016 - 7:40 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I don’t understand how people can be so narrow-minded. The world is your oyster. Be open to different interpretations and explanations.

@Y/N:

Got berated by some dude with a ponytail today because I asked why Alexander Hamilton was on the $10

@Y/N:

But thank u for the history lesson. I thought he was our fourth president

@Y/N:

I’m not sure how I passed APUSH


March 30, 2016 - 11:09 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I just saw a video of @Y/N singing a Regina Spector song at a concert and I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love in my life

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N pls be on the mixtape

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel: i don’t know enough about “the first secretary of treasury who happens to be a badass” and 20 more minutes of things that disqualifies me from this but thx!!

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N *finger guns*


You snickered to yourself at this. It’s not like you were actually pissed or anything. And you couldn’t deny that his play was amazing. He just was a little extra sometimes.


April 19, 2016 - 4:03 a.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I’m tired someone help me

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel go to bed

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N wow1!!1!! Didn’t think of that one!!

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel you asked for help :)

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N how can I repay you for this great suggestion

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel an apology

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N what’d I do this time

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel for keeping me up

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N post notifs for bae?! <3 luv u

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel you wish. i’m writing new music about the “narrow-mindedness of some people”

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N what’s it called? “I got a 2 on the APUSH exam”?

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel I’m leaning more towards “I rhymed sun with son


April 22, 2016 - 5:55 p.m.

@Y/N:

I’m ordering chinese food and I need an honest opinion on the chicken: sweet or sour?

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N definitely sweet

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel wrong

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N IT’S AN OPINION


April 30, 2016 - 6:59 a.m.

@Lin_Miranda:

Thought I rode next to @Y/N on the subway this morning. It turned out to be a loud man

@Y/N:

Thought I saw @Lin_Miranda at the subway station yesterday. Turned out to be just a rat

@livelovelin:

@Y/N @Lin_Miranda this has progressed from silly flirting to relentless savagery and i’m concerned


May 1, 2016 - 12:09 p.m.

@hamiltonorsomething:

@Lin_Miranda what happened with u and @Y/N ?

@Lin_Miranda:

@hamiltonorsomething ask her!

@Y/N:

@hamiltonorsomething nothing he’s just annoying

@Lin_Miranda:

@Y/N @hamiltonorsomething I think you meant amazing, energetic, handsome, compassionate… shall I continue?

@Y/N:

@Lin_Miranda not unless you’re describing a dog

@hamiltonorsomething:

@Lin_Miranda @Y/N woOf


May 5, 2016 - 11:21 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

Found out @Y/N was at the show tonight. Care to explain?

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel my best friend treated me with tickets for my birthday. It was her gag gift.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N did you thank her

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel yeah

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N is ur friend cute

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel yeah

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N am I cute

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel well…

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N :///////

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N did u like the show

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel yeah

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N did u get the flowers I sent to you office for your birthday

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel yeah :)

@hamforham:

@Lin_Miranda you bought @Y/N flowers??!!

@Lin_Miranda:

@hamforham @Y/N ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


May 23, 2016 - 7:03 a.m.

@Y/N:

I was doing a crossword puzzle and the clue was “snakelike fish” @Lin_Manuel any ideas? Three letters with an L…

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N sure! Are you positive it doesn’t happen to have the same about of letters as your name?

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel, no. that was 4 down: long reigning queen.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N I thought that was 8 across: savage

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel how do u go from asshole to friend in .00293 seconds

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N (it’s probably eel)


July 4, 2016 - 7:08 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

Bit of a crazy fourth.
My aunt: That’s your 3rd plate
My sister: That’s your 3rd husband 

@Y/N

@Lin_Manuel: I SCREAMED

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N sounds like you in bed!

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel like you’d know that

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N um you have cooties…


August 8, 2016 - 5:09 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I’m debating whether to wear the gold or the silver bow tie tonight. Gold is the color of winners, but silver is dashing.

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel go with the silver and come second for a change

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N trust me, you’ll always come first in my heart

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N and literally

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel I’m avoiding you all night.


August 8, 2016 - 7:12 p.m.

@baldlin:

should i be concerned that there are no photos of @Lin_Manuel and @Y/N at the show yet

@Lin_Manuel:

@baldlin probably not. Seeing as she’s sitting next to me right now. (She looks really pretty. But don’t tell her I said that.)

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel I’m next to you, dork


August 11, 2016 - 8:05 p.m.

@Y/N:

I’m not sure whether to watch the Lion King or the Little Mermaid

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N you’re joking, right? The Little Mermaid is obvi the way to go

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel just bc you said that I’m gonna watch the Lion King

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N :(

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel I’ll watch the little mermaid with you a different day

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N how’s this weekend sound?

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel did u just ask me on a date…
over twitter…
in front of all ur fans…

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N I mean we’ll have to sit on other sides of the room so I don’t catch your cooties but yeah

@Y/N: 

@Lin_Manuel text me the deets, dork


August 13, 2016 - 8:20 a.m.

@linterallyscreaming:

@Y/N how was the date with @Lin_Manuel ?

@Y/N:

@linternallyscreaming if I’m being honest… :) he’s the reason we have safety warnings on everything.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N @linternallyscreaming says the girl who literally broke my bed last night

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel THAT IS OUT OF CONTEXT


August 30, 2016 - 9:30 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N are you from France bc madamn

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel are you from Africa bc Kenya not


September 13, 2016 - 7:06 a.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

Good morning! 
Okay so @Y/N went home and then brought me back coffee this morning and she put salt in it instead of sugar. I’m still not sure if it was on purpose or not

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel next time it will be on purpose.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N next time just make it at my place.


September 15, 2016 - 2:02 a.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

People who make your heart smile are so important in the world


October 8, 2016 - 1:07 a.m.

@Y/N:

Okay so you know that feeling when you almost drop something but like rlly quick catch it and everyone is like OHHHH
You’re gonna find someone who makes you feel like that all the time


October 26, 2016 - 3:09 p.m. 

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N looks fire in her latest shoot

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel you have to say that we’re dating


October 30, 2016 - 6:47 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N wrote a song about you today

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel what’s it called

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N “she didn’t know APUSH but she knew me”


November 22, 2016 - 10:08 a.m.

@Y/N:

Just left @Lin_Manuel at the airport. His flight was at 8, I just didn’t want to leave him yet.


November 22, 2016 - 3:25 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N landed. Please don’t make me cry.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N too late

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N the security guard just asked if I was okay and I explained to him out lives for the past 40 minutes.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N it hasn’t even been 24 hours and life sucks without you.

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel life sucks without u :’(

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N I love you

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel you’re okay

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel jk I love you too


November 29, 2016 - 9:06 p.m.

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel wrote a song about you today

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N what’s it called

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel “I miss you please come home”

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N just started crying in the cab. I’ll be home soon.


December 3, 2016 - 8:56 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I hope you all got your Hamilton Mixtape! It’s got some really talented people and so really cool stuff!

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel remember when you asked me to be on the mixtape

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N remember when you asked why Hamilton was on the ten dolla


December 7, 2016 - 4:51 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N picked me up at the airport with a dog in the backseat. I don’t know who I was more excited to see.

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel I think we both know who you were more excited to see

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N the dog?


December 19, 2016 - 1:19 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I’ve almost spoiled @Y/N ‘s Christmas gift four times. I need self control.

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel tell me

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N DONT DO THIS TO ME


December 24, 2016 - 2:05 p.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

I don’t know if I’m more excited to have a girlfriend for Christmas because of the chance to kiss under the mistletoe

@Lin_Manuel:

(There is LOTS of mistletoe in our house)

@Lin_Manuel:

Or if because it means I get to eat extra cookie dough she’s baking rn


January 15, 2017 - 9:00 a.m.

@Lin_Manuel:

You’re so pretty I can’t look directly at you.
You’re an eclipse.
Good morning.

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel i’m right next to you, dork

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N how’d I get so lucky

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel it was honestly the rant about Hamilton last year

@Lin_Manuel:

@Y/N love me anyways?

@Y/N:

@Lin_Manuel love you always.

anonymous asked:

soooo happy that FMM claire has a bun in the oven!!! would love to see a classic pregnancybrain moment that she gets to share with jamie. mine hit me worst at 5 or 6 weeks in!

Flood my Mornings: Eggs

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  The First Step (Misunderstanding over Claire’s application+ baby news)

“God—DAMMNIT!”

Jamie came awake and jumped out of bed in one single second, stumbling toward the sound of her voice in the kitchen. Stumbling; not running.  He knew from her tone that there was no danger to hand: a ‘goddamnit’ of frustration only. Nonetheless, it was the middle of the night, and Claire—unpredictable and mad as she was, on the whole—didn’t usually take to screaming at random

She was standing over the stove, her hands in fists at her sides and her robe slipping off her shaking shoulders.

“Claire, love?” He put a hand on the small of her back. “Have ye burned yourself?” 

“NO, the—blasted stove is broken—" She was agitated and angry and looked as though she were going to lay a kick to the offending appliance. “I just wanted to scramble eggs but they’re not—not—cooking!

“No? What’s wrong, d'ye think?” he asked, glancing at the pan, which sure enough, held only wet, raw eggs.

“The damned—stove is broken—” she repeated, teeth gritted in frustration as she gestured wildly at the item in question. “I just don’t understand, it was working fine at dinner—but — ”

She gulped air. Then, she burst into tears. 

“Och, hey, shhhh it’s no matter, lass,” he said, half-laughing as he pulled her to him and hugged her tight. “Hey, now, it’s alright—we’ll get a repairman out, if we must—”

She sobbed into his shoulder. “I’ve been trying for ten minutes and I don’t—I don’t—I just wanted EGGS —

“Dinna fash, mo nighean donn,” He choked back a laugh and only rubbed her back, swaying her as though they were dancing cheek-to-cheek, like the song said. “Here, let me make ye something that doesna require heati ” He went mute, gobbled for a moment, then pursed his lips hard together, his wame now convulsing madly from the effort not to burst out laughing . 

“What?” she said sharply at his sudden silence. She pulled back enough to glare at him. “WHAT?” 

Without a word, but with his lips quivering, he released one hand from her waist, reached over….and turned on the Stovetop.

You willna laugh, James Fraser. 

BY HEAVEN, YE *WILL NOT* LAUGH ALOUD AT YOUR PREGNANT WIFE!

But thank GOD his pregnant wife cackled first. 

She dropped her forehead against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his neck, and positively SHOOK with laughter, bringing him right along with her . They slumped against each other, hooting like the wee fools they were.

“Oh Jesus H. CHRIST, what is WRONG with me??” she moaned as she stepped away from him a few minutes later, wiping away tears and still giggling.

“Dinna fash yourself,” he said, turning the Stove off again. “It’s common early in a woman’s carrying, no? To feel a bit daft from time to time?”

“Well, yes, so they say, but—”

“Jen told me once that when she was newly wi’ child (I think it was wi’ Wee Jamie, come to think ) she lost her favorite book of French folktales and was near-distraught. Then the next planting season, she was turning the soil of the kailyard and up came Contes des Fées along with the rotted cabbage roots.”

“Oh, Jenny,” Claire hooted, leaning back against the counter. “Well, that does make me feel a bit less insane. It’s just so strange—I don’t remember anything of the sort with Faith or Brianna.” 

“No, indeed?”

“I should have thought that by my third pregnancy, I would have seen it all! Apparently not!”

He stepped into her arms and kissed her deeply. He didn’t want to voice the sad thoughts running through his mind. The still-raw grief from the loss of Faith. That at this phase of her last pregnancy, Claire had been close to starvation from months of war on the slow march toward Culloden. Much might have been missed, amid that bleak time; much had been missed, since. 

But those sorrows were of another life, and had no place in the foolish glee of this night. He said only, “No child of ours would make things easy for us, would they?”

“No indeed.” She rubbed her abdomen and made a stern face at it. “Just don’t make Mummy jump off a cliff or anything permanent, alright, little one?”  

Jamie grinned and added his hand, spanning them both. “Aye, young Fraser, be nice to your Mama, or you’ll have ME to answer to.”  They both sighed then, with twin, happy, humming sounds. 

Jamie did some quick calculation. “It’ll be August, aye?”

She smiled and nodded. “I think so—can’t say for sure precisely when we conceived, but yes, August approximately.” She suddenly groaned. “Oh, LORD, that means I’ll be carrying a 7-, 8-, and 9-month baby in SUMMER.” 

“Well, never you fear, Sassenach: I’ll be here with all the lemonade and cool cloths ye might desire.” 

“Well, that sounds much better than last time. God, this time next year, we’ll have him or her with us. Can you imagine?” She beamed. 

As did he, imagining. A new bairn. A wee brother or sister for Brianna. Getting to see Claire carry a child in peace and under the care of doctors. Getting to hold his child from the moment they would be born…. 

He kissed her temple. “Go sit yourself down, mo ghraidh, while I make ye some eggs.”

“Oh, no, I can do it!” She turned toward the Stovetop, catching up the Spatula. “Now that I know it’s just a matter of turning ON the bloody —”

He turned her firmly away and settled her into the chair. “I insist.” 

“You really don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, Jamie—I’m perfectly capable, and for all my teasing, I don’t expect royal treatment.” 

“Aye, I ken that. But it’s my joy to take care of ye, Sassenach. Always, but—particularly now that you’re carrying our child.” He took the Spatula from her hand in a manner that brokered no argument.

She sighed and then grinned up at him. “Well in that case, I’d feel much better cared for if you’d put cheese on the top.”

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.” He opened the Frigidaire, peering. “Sorry, I dinna think we have any.” 

“No, no, I know we do,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows and glancing confidently around the kitchen. “Just had it in my hand a few min—ohforfuck’ssake—

She walked with dignity to the counter, and oh-so-casually picked up the block of cheese.  

From the soap dish. 


Keep reading

Broken Memories (Poly!Hamilsquad x Reader)

Words: 3200+

Warnings: car accident

Request: (i lost it in my blog but something about the reader being sick/hurt and the boys take care of them)

A/N: im sorry i took so long, as always. please forgive me, and enjoy!


You were walking home, your bag was thrown over your shoulder. You forgot your umbrella, and you were soaked, the wool hoodie doing nothing to stop the raindrops from seeping through. You didn’t check the weather today, so this was a big surprise for you. Lafayette wanted to drive you home, but you insisted on walking, not wanting him to leave work early. Hamilton and Laurens were working at the office too, and Mulligan had to go to his shop to finish the orders that people brought in.

Your phone rang, and you answered, barely glancing at the contact picture. “Hello?”

“Y/N! I told you that I would take you home!” Mulligan’s rough voice said. You rolled your eyes, sitting on a seat next to a bus stop. Thankfully, it was only slightly wet, not enough to make you stand.

Keep reading

The shape of you, here and now

Birthday fic for you @ladypigswagon. I know, I know. I’m really late, sorry T.T.

Stiles sees things he shouldn’t, dreams things that are impossible, that will never happen, things that he thinks could happen but don’t.

He sees his mother proud at his graduation from UCLA (NYU, Harvard, Yale, many others), disappointed when he chooses to not go to college at all and just travel around, interned and hateful, gone. Sees his dad healthy, sick, proud, disappointed, angry, happy, gone. He sees them still married, divorced, with other people, mourning. Sometimes he doesn’t see them at all.

Every time he dreams, he finds himself immersed in a world that is his but at the same time not. Sometimes he has siblings, sometimes he hasn’t; Sometimes he’s popular, sometimes he’s not; Sometimes he’s young, sometimes he’s old; Sometimes he’s innocent and naive, sometimes he’s jaded and amoral.

He’s human, a vampire, a fae, a merman, a fallen angel, a mage, a werewolf and other creatures he doesn’t have a name for. He’s a student, a thief, a lawyer, a policeman, an assassin, a secret agent, a doctor, a hacker and many, many other things and sometimes he’s nothing at all. He’s gay, bi, het, trans, ace, aro, non binary; he’s divorced, married, single, dating or none of those.

But whatever Stiles is, there’s always one thing that never fails to be there with him in one capacity or another, and that invariably makes his life better in some way: Him.

Sometimes Stiles meets Him as a kid, sometimes as an adult. Sometimes Stiles is the adult and He is the child. Sometimes they’re both adults, sometimes they’re both children. Sometimes Stiles needs help, sometimes it’s the other way round. Sometimes neither of them needs help, sometimes both of them need it. Sometimes they’re dating, sometimes they’re married, sometimes they’re friends. Sometimes He takes Stiles in, sometimes Stiles raises Him.

But whatever -wherever, however, whoever- Stiles is and whatever -wherever, however, whoever- He is, they always love each other in one way or another.

Which is why when one morning Stiles -ten year old school boy, unpopular, still unsure about his sexuality but very sure of being a he, dead mother, alive-alcoholic-workaholic-mourning father, he reminds himself because sometimes he can’t remember who exactly he is when he has just been a could have been- wakes up to a newspaper with a front page about a fire with His face on it as the only survivor of those inside the house, he doesn’t even think twice about getting to the hospital and sneaking inside.

Peter. His name is Peter Hale.

The moment he manages to catch sight of Him, the dreams stop and Stiles doesn’t see things that he shouldn’t anymore.

(He doesn’t know how to feel about that.)

Stiles wonders if his Peter is something else. He’s seen him as a trickster, a vampire, a demon, a merman, a fallen angel and many things more, but more often than not, he was either human or a werewolf. It’s not that he particularly cares (Peter is his whichever the form or shape he comes in), but it would be really convenient if he was some type of being that had accelerated healing.

Stiles looks at Peter’s scarred face thoughtfully. It’s not that he cares about his appearance (for all he minds, he could be completely disfigured or mangled, he has been before… Stiles has been too), it’s that he he knows that it will be difficult for him and a constant reminder of what happened when he wakes up and plastic surgery only does so much.

And wake up he will no matter what the doctors say. Whether it is because of his dreams or because he has some kind of precognitive ability, he can’t tell, but Stiles just knows.

Something chimes at the end of the hallway and unconsciously he looks at the clock. He sighs sadly at what he sees. He hid inside a toilet until night came to be able to stay after visit hours because his dad has a night shift today and won’t notice him gone. However, if he wants to make it home before Stilinski senior does, he has to go now.

“See you later, Peter,” he murmurs before letting go of the man’s lax hand and slipping out.

Stiles wonders if all those other Stileses were real, if they too dreamt about him before finding their Peter.

(He misses it. Did they miss it too afterwards?)

Every day, at one point or another, Stiles makes his way to the hospital. Sometimes before school, sometimes right after, sometimes at night, but every single day without fail because he lives in fear of Peter waking up and finding himself alone.

Sometimes Stiles reads to him. He tries things that he thinks Peter would find interesting, things that other Peters liked, things that have words he struggles to pronounce and whose meaning he has to look up later to understand.

Sometimes he sings to him. He hums popular songs that he likes, lullabies that used to calm him as a little kid before everything changed, tunes that he comes up with on the spot.

Sometimes he talks to him about anything and everything. His dreams, his dad, his mother, his classes, what he likes, what he doesn’t, what he wishes that could be.

Sometimes he just sits there and holds Peter’s hand.

Peter finally wakes up at nearly 3am on the 24th of August. The man eyes him blank-faced and Stiles isn’t sure if he’s actually seeing him. He holds his breath, hoping that he recognizes him, that he has been seeing, dreaming things like Stiles. The moment is broken, though, when Stiles has to hide under the bed when a nurse appears and then has to beat a hasty retreat before the doctor on call comes too and finds the sheriff’s son where he shouldn’t be with a person he shouldn’t even know to begin with.

Back at home, he can’t sleep. He tosses and turns again and again until it’s a normal enough hour to justify being up on his summer vacation. Then he makes an excuse about seeing some friends that he doesn’t have and rushes to the hospital again.

He enters the room tentatively and finds Peter sitting in a wheelchair just by the open window. He veritably shakes with nerves, his heart jackrabitting in his chest so loud that he bets that even if his Peter is fully human, he can hear it.

Peter’s eyes are closed like many times before when Stiles stops by his side and his heart thunders even more, feeling a wet and cold sensation taking over him. No. Nononono.

“Peter?” he whimpers and gets no response. “Peter?” he tries again, desperate, and nothing.

Stiles cries.

Big fat tears slide down his cheeks as he shakes violently, trying to keep himself from sobbing out loud and attracting unwanted attention. It’s ok, he tells himself as he wipes his face, it’s ok. This changes nothing. He bites his lip and then takes deep shuddering breaths, hugging himself until he feels he can contain himself. Then, he takes off his packpack to take out Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks, which is the book he has been reading to Peter this week. As he does so, he reaches to squeeze his hand before starting to read.

I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw-

“While I appreciate the effort, I hate that book,” a very raspy voice says and Stiles lets out a startled eep, said book flying forward and going out the window before he can stop it.

Stiles turns around in his seat very slowly, too scared to be hopeful. He’s greeted by the sight of a Peter that is fighting to keep awake, his eyes nearly half-lidded. Stiles swallows thickly, trying to remind himself that just because he is Peter’s, it doesn’t mean that Peter is Stiles’ yet, that he can’t just throw himself at the man and never let go.

“Well, it’s good that the possibility of continuing that just flew out the window then,” he pipes and Peter’s lips tug upwards minutely. “Hi, Peter.”

“Hello, Stiles.”

Forever and Always

Pairing: lams (laurens x hamilton)

Premise: In the present day, a young historian named Jalisa finds all the missing letters between John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton.

Word Count: 4359 (yIKES sorry)

Warnings: allusions to suicide, angst

*IMPORTANT* a/n: okay, so this was a number prompt that I wanted to flesh out, so here you go anon!! and just a note, in this universe, the ONLY letter found between Hamilton and Laurens was the “cold in my professions” one. also - pay attention to the dates of the letters and the signatures at the end, they’re important…. that’s all!  enjoy <3


Jalisa felt a twinge of excitement as soon as she’d crossed the threshold of the Grange. She stared around at the beautiful old house, trying to take in as many details as she could.

“You have an hour, okay, Jalisa? And make sure to wear gloves when touching anything. Don’t break anything, and don’t mess up any of the displays,” her professor spoke in warning tones, clearly rethinking his promise to her that she could have free reign in the historic house.

Keep reading

After the Beep.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: All of the in-between moments of a relationship, captured in the one-sided monologue that is voicemail. 

A/N: 

This has been sitting in my drafts for over a week whoops.

This isn’t the Untitled Garbage Fic that I’ve been rambling about but hopefully it will hold you over until that one is post-able.

Basically, I wanted to start getting words flowing again for the first time since we finished WYCH and that manifested in me choosing the absolute worst format for telling a narrative story. Honestly, this may or may not be the dumbest thing I’ve ever posted like @ becca why would you think this is a good structure for a fic? 

I hope you get a kick out of me fumbling my way out of writer’s block lmao.

Also ps shout out to @fragmentofmymind​ for being great at all times and for reading through this monstrosity for me (and providing that gif), she’s super awesome and super talented and if you aren’t following her already then honestly where have you been??

Word Count: does it even matter? the format on this is weird I’m so sorry.


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Rm 6725

Emma Swan is having a horrible day, and just when she thinks things might look up, she gets stuck with a very cranky patient, but God is he gorgeous.

Nurse Emma Swan

Generally speaking, Emma loved being a floating nurse at Boston Mass Gen Hospital.  She moved all around the hospital to different departments letting her do a bit of everything, which she found exciting. Ruby, her best friend who was also a nurse, was always complaining about how boring her floor was.

Ruby worked in the post-operative ward, where patients were sent to recover after their operations if they were considered stable. Most of the patients were just waiting until they were well enough to be discharged so they could go home, while others were older and waiting, well, for anything. Some were hoping their children would come and take care of them, while others were waiting for a spot to open up in a nursing home. Ruby had coined it the ‘limbo floor’.

Emma couldn’t count the number of times that Ruby had complained because she was forced to give someone a bed bath or had to empty out their ostomy bags. Emma had laughed at the time, having yet to work on Ruby’s floor herself. She had only lived in Boston for about seven months, and she had only worked at the hospital for just a month less. Most of Emma’s floating was done in the emergency room, labor and delivery, or on the pediatric floor, but soon that would change.

Emma woke up early enough that she could go for a run before her shift. It had rained the night before though, and the pavement that morning was unforgiving. She slipped on the pavement in front of a crowd of high school kids waiting outside for the first bell to ring. If that hadn’t been mortifying enough, when Emma got home, she discovered that she had stepped on what appeared to be a used condom somewhere along the way, and it had tagged along home with her on the bottom of her shoe. The day was already off to a horrible start, and then it got worse.

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Lost and Found (M)

Originally posted by vminv

Summary: The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.
Pairing: problematic idol!Jimin x reader
Word Count: 20.088
A/N: not what I should have been working on but what demanded to be written. Jimin’s hair goes from orange to black to blond to silver, and you’ll see why. The story begins in mid-August, and conversations in italics are spoken in English. I hope you like it!

Read on AO3 if mobile’s having issues

The first thing Park Jimin hears is, “Rise and shine, superstar,” and then cold water is poured on his face.

“What the fuck!” Jimin snaps, jerking up in bed. He’d been warm and content, wrapped around a pretty brunette he couldn’t recall the features of, couldn’t remember the name of to ask her to please shut the fuck up, your screaming is really annoying this early in the morning, the fuck. She’d been splashed with some of the water, and maybe if it wasn’t so early- the sun wasn’t even in the sky yet, the fuck- then Jimin would feel a little bit of sympathy. “Don’t you know who I am?”

Jimin pushes his wet bangs from his eyes, narrowed and pointed in anger when he comes face to face with his manager, grinning victoriously over an empty bottle. Jimin’s starkly naked, but his manager has seen him in worse conditions before. On his hangover scale this morning barely registers as a five, so other than the ice cold wake up call, Jimin’s doing pretty hot.

“Unfortunately, I do. Now get up, Park. Your flight leaves in three hours.”

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The Joker x Reader *Happy Birthday”

Mister J never wants to tell you how old he is but you don’t give up. Nobody is supposed to know nothing personal about the Joker. But damn it, you are not a nobody!!

You’ve been trying to get it out of him since like…forever.

You always try to guess and he would just mislead you:

“Puddin, are you… 37?”

”Close enough, doll,” he grins at you, satisfied to see you so worked up about it.

“40?!”

“Almost got it, Pumpkin.”

“38?!”

“It’s possible.”

“42?!” At this point your voice is high pitch and it amuses him to death. Why does he have to be such a jerk?

“Ahhhh, Kitten, you’re so close,” and he just leaves the bedroom, snickering. Your mouth is open, attempting to breathe in some air; you are so annoyed right now. No matter what number you tell him, J would never admit to it. You feel childish, but you really want to know, what’s the big deal?!

So you came up with a different strategy.

Every day you give him a birthday card, a cute cupcake with a lit up candle (that he refuses to blow) and no matter what he does, you just start singing Happy Birthday.

*Aha, there he is watching TV.*

“Happy Birthday to you…”

He cuts you off (like he usually does):

“NO!!!” he doesn’t look happy but you don’t care.

“If you want this to stop, Puddin, you just have to tell me how old you are,” you fake smile in a way that he would notice.

“Go away, Pumpkin!” he growls at you and you just lift your shoulders, plant the card on his knees, turn around, blow the candle and head towards the kitchen to eat the sweet present.

*Aha, he’s going over paperwork in his office.*

“Happy Birthday to you…”

“Seriously, Y/N ?!!! Shut up and put it to rest. I have 3 boxes full of birthday cards! You need to stop this nonsense,” the Joker points his finger at you, threatening.

You sigh and put the card on his desk but you don’t leave.

“I guess I’m going to eat this cupcake too and get fat,” you complain, taking a bite. You go sit on his lap. You expect him to push you away but he doesn’t.  You turn J’s chin towards you and then use your index finger to trace his cheekbone, staring at his face. His blue eyes avoid looking at yours.

“Hmmm, hardly any wrinkles, you can’t be that old. But you’re not in your 20’s, I know that… Are you pushing 50?” you giggle and immediately get up and run, knowing he’s going to try and slap your butt or something.

“Princess, go away!” You barely avoid the groping and the slapping.

*Aha, he’s taking a bath.*

“Happy birthday to…”

“Shut it down!!”

“OK,” you agree to comply, but you just get in the bathtub with your clothes on, the cupcake with the candle in one hand and the birthday card in the other. ”For you, Mister J,” you sweetly smile, letting go of the card right in front of him. “Here, blow this candle at least!”

“NO!! Stop pestering me, what’s wrong with you?!”

“BLOW…the…flipping…CANDLE!” you scream, splashing him.

“You asked for it!” the Joker is heading towards your side of the bathtub. Oh, shit, time to run.

*Aha, he’s on his laptop.*

“Happy birthday to you…”

“You must be kidding me; I’m seriously getting pissed! I mean it!”

“Well, me too, what the hell?! Tell me how old you are, you know I would die before telling someone else.”

“You don’t get to treat me like this, doll!” Mister J gets off the couch, scoffing. You wish you would have known he’s in a foul mood.

You think he’s joking but the insane look in his eyes lets you know that you probably pushed it too much. You’re instinctively starting to back out, suddenly worried while you watch him stump towards you.

There is so much rage in him when he grabs your wrists that you drop your card and the cupcake and you already know you’ll have bruises.

“What is wrong with you, hmm? Are you really trying to see how much you can push me? You want me to kill you ?”

“Let go, you’re hurting me…” you whimper in pain, feeling your bones will snap soon.

His eyes have darkened.

“Don’t play games with me, OK?” he hisses at you. ”I’m not the playful type, I told you to stop this so many times!”

You start crying, scared and defeated.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop, just let me go, I can’t feel my hands anymore…please…”

Your sobbing makes him soften his hold and he finally lets you go.

***************

It’s been a week since you’ve been avoiding him at all costs. You get out of the penthouse early and come back late. Sometimes he’s not even there.

***************

It sounds crazy (and he knows crazy), but he misses you bugging him every day with your stupid birthday song, the card and the cupcake.

***************

You’ve been sleeping in the spare bedroom with your door locked, afraid he might hurt you again.

He can’t fall sleep in the big bed all by himself, tossing and turning on pins and needles every single night. You looked so frightened and hurt when he almost broke your wrists. Shit, he can be such a dick sometimes, but he can’t help it. J finally gets up and decides to go to your door, trying to open it. It’s locked, but he has the spare key. You forgot you guys keep it in the office.

He opens the door slowly and snicks in. It’s not too dark in the room because you always have a night light on. The Joker sees you curled up in a ball, eyes closed, holding to your pillow really tight and ohhhh… his chest aches, strangely enough when he sees your wrists all bruised up, marked by his rage.

He takes a deep breath,using his hands to get his green hair out of his face and cuddles in bed by you, watching you sleep until he decides to pull you in his arms. You feel the movement and wake up with your head resting on his tattoos. You’re not sure what to do, is he in one of his moods again?

You lift your eyes to meet his and it surprises you there’s no anger in them. You gulp and hesitantly reach your left hand to caress his face, not knowing what to expect. J starts purring, shoving himself into you even more.

“39,” he mutters, kissing your forehead.

Your face lights up with the brightest smile he saw in a while.

“Happy birthday to you…”

“I wouldn’t push it, Princess,” he grins, but this time there is no animosity in his voice.

“So…January?” you ask as innocently as possible, hoping you’re on steady ground.

“Almost got it,” J softly laughs, kind of surprised you still have the balls.

“June?”

“So close, Kitten.”

“August?”

“It’s possible, Pumpkin.”

Also read - MASTERLIST :

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

staycute1234  asked:

Imagine that Taegi were dating and they had a bad break up. They're sad and still in love but don't want to be together. Then two years later Yoongi gets a call from Taehyung's little Sister that Taehyung is in the hospital and is asking for him. Yoongi drops everything and goes but he pace in front of the hospital for 20 minutes before going in. Taehyung was in some kind of accident that made him forget the two years and he is back to the mindset him and Yoongi are a couple. Yoongi sees this-

((Look i’m actually crying and laughing at the same time because i had so much written for this but then i went to minimize the page and instead i accidentally closed the entire thing and it didn’t save T_T anyways though! Look at you Satan! I thought i was angst queen but it looks like you’re coming for my place lol!) (Also you totes are the more popular one out of both of us baby! That’s why you have more request)

======================================

So many people liked to compare Taehyung and Yoongi to the sun and moon as if they were fucking Shakespeare or some shit, as if their relationship was some fairy tale out of story books read to children at night. It was romantic sure, in a way, the thought of these two beings fitting so well together. Everyone wanted a relationship like that. Everyone wanted to fit so well with their partner that nothing was ever wrong. No one really bothered to stop and think about the fact that the sun and moon were basically the same fucking thing. They were both stupid shapes in the solar system that lit up the earth at different times of the day and eventually it would get tiring. 

Taehyung and Yoongi were exactly that. 

Taehyung and Yoongi were two beings on the same planet, in the same city, living in the same apartment that fit so well together it pissed Yoongi off. 

It sounds dumb now that the elder thought about it. How could anyone be pissed off that their relationship was so perfect? How could anyone get so angry about how well they fit with their boyfriend that they felt the need to cause a fight just to get some excitement? At the time it’d sounded like a wonderful idea to Yoongi. The elder can remember the way he actually fucking laughed when Taehyung began yelling at him. He can remember the way he was actually happy they were doing something other than their routine date nights even if it was yelling at each other.

It was so fucking stupid but Yoongi was happy that they were FINALLY disagreeing on things. 

WE HAVE LITERALLY BECOME THAT COUPLE AND IT’S FUCKING GROSS!”  Yoongi pants angrily as he watches the way Taehyung’s perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow in confused irritation. 

“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?? WHAT COUPLE ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??”

The fact that Taehyung doesn’t even realize what Yoongi means angers him more. 

THAT COUPLE! WE’VE BECOME THAT FUCKING PERFECT COUPLE THAT LIKES ALL THE SAME FUCKING THINGS AND HAS THE FUCKING PERFECT APARTMENT WITH THEIR PERFECT FUCKING DOGS AND SPEND THEIR NIGHTS WATCHING THE SAME FUCKING DRAMAS!” It’s then that it really hits Yoongi. What he’s really angry about. “WE’VE BECOME BORING.” 

The entire apartment shifts into a silence Yoongi hasn’t heard in a while and it frightens him a bit. Of course his pride won’t let him say anything else. He was just so angry with how easy and boring had become, how routine their relationship had become. There where times when they first started dating that Yoongi can remember when he and Taehyung would run around like reckless kids breaking into empty pools to have sex under the stars. Hell there were times when they would just get in their car and drive for miles with no where to go just because they wanted an adventure. Now the most they did was eat at a different restaurant once  a week, it was maddening. 

“Well then.” Taehyung pauses and Yoongi’s not sure if it’s so the younger can calm down or hold back a sob. “I hope your next relationship is as fucked up as you want it to be.


Flash forward two years later and Yoongi is once again panting for breath.  The giant white building looms in front of him looking almost as if it’s mocking him, almost as if it’s daring him, teasing him to enter. He’s not sure if he wants to honestly. Yoongi’s not sure if he can face the darkness that waits for him inside such a bright building. 

“Yoongi, It’s Taehyung. He’s hurt.” 

The sound of Taehyung’s sister sobbing still played in his head as he fought back the urge to gag. He can still remember that night, although just barely, he can still think back hard enough and remember the way he’d been drunkenly fucking into some faceless man when his phone had begun to ring with a number he hadn’t seen in year flashing across the screen. 

“Let it ring baby.”  The faceless man had moaned out but Yoongi had barely noticed it with the way his body shook. He’s almost did though, he almost let it go to voicemail until something in his gut had told him better. He almost let the past stay in the past until something, someone, had screamed at him to raise the small device to his ear.

It’d taken Yoongi two years to let something he wanted so much get ruined, two minutes to answer the phone and two days to race to the boy that held his entire being in his hands. 


“Before you see him you need to understand…. Taehyung… he still thinks you two are together.” Taehyung’s sister sighs. “During the accident he hit his head against the window on the drivers side door hard, the doctors say the blow caused short term memory loss. Taehyung thinks it’s still August of 2014.” 

Yoongi stiffens. August of two years ago, that would have been two months before the fight that broke them up and two months before their anniversary. 

The door to Taehyung’s hospital room opens and Yoongi nearly falls to his knees in tears. 


“Yoonie! Baby, you came!” 

Yoongi will never understand how Taehyung still shines even while in a hospital bed with bandages covering his head and cheek. Thought, it could be because Taehyung has always been the light that shined in Yoongi’s life. Either way the elder does his best to smile as he hands over baby pink roses to the younger boy in bed. 

“Sorry it took me so long to get here, Doll. I had to pick these up for you.” 

“Oh that’s okay!” Taehyung giggles and Yoongi can see the way the younger’s sister clenches her fist. 

It’s understandable, he can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel to watch your brother smile at the boy who broke his heart and have to act like everything was alright. Taehyung and his sister had always been more than just siblings, they were best friends and each other’s guardians. Hell Yoongi was surprised the girl hadn’t punched him in the throat the moment he’d suggested acting like he was still dating the younger to save him from anymore pain. 

“But Yoonie, where were you??” Taehyung’s still perfectly groomed eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You weren’t in the car with me during the accident right?”

For a moment Yoongi thinks Taehyung remembers everything and the younger is just trying to punish him by asking something like that, but Yoongi knows better.  Yoongi knows Taehyung would never do anything to purposely hurt Yoongi because that was Yoongi’s role. Yoongi was always the one to hurt Taehyung. Yoongi was the one to cause fights when he was bored. 

“No, Doll.” The elder fights back a sob. “I wasn’t in the car with you.” 


“You know, now that i think about it, we’re probably really behind on Goblin huh?

Not for the first time in the week that he’s been by Taehyung’s side, Yoongi stiffens. 

“You are starting to remember things?!”  A small smile blooms on Yoongi’s lips as he thinks back to all the nights he would spend curled up with Taehyung running his fingers through his hair as they watched the tragic story of Ji Eun Tak and Kim Shin. Something Yoongi once thought was so fucking boring. The smile he wears shifts into something a bit sadder and the elder sighs. 

“Yeah we are a bit behind but we can catch up when you get out of the hospital.”


It’s two nights later and Yoongi is awoken to screams. 

The elder shoots straight out of his seat and is by Taehyung’s side instantly he tries to clam the shrieking sobbing boy. Fear races through his body every time he catches the sounds of Taehyung’s heart monitor beeping uncontrollably with every shout and kick the younger lets out and it’s only when Taehyung sits up covered in sweat and shaking that Yoongi realizes the younger had been having a nightmare. 

Yoongi himself feels like he’s trapped in his own personal night terror when Taehyung sobs out the words the elder never wanted to hear. 

“Please don’t leave me.” 


“Hey Doll,” Yoongi gently rubs his thumb against the back of Taehyung’s hand as he holds the younger. “Do you want to talk about the nightmare? From two nights ago?”

It’s Taehyung’s turn to stiffen at Yoongi’s words. After the elder had been able to get Taehyung calm and back to sleep the younger had wanted to completely ignore whatever it was that had him screaming but Yoongi….. Yoongi needed to know what it was. Yoongi needed to know what had left Taehyung to shaken that he’d barely let Yoongi go to the restroom without his heart monitor spiking.

The younger sighs quietly and turns so he can rest his face against the fair skin of Yoongi’s neck. 

“We were fighting.” Taehyung’s breath shakes, Yoongi takes that as his cue to rub the younger’s lower back slowly. “In my dream we had been happy and having a date and then suddenly we were fighting and screaming at each other.  You had said you didn’t love me and then i stormed out and left.” 

Yoongi knows Taehyung’s dream must have been a mixture of the younger’s fears and his memories of the night they’d split up. It hurts him to have to think so but he knows it’s time to tell the younger the truth. It was time to end the little happiness he had if it meant helping Taehyung get better. 

“That wasn’t a dream.” 

Taehyung looks up and Yoongi swears he sees his entire past and future in those brown wide orbs he’s fallen in love with all over again. The elder is about to start talking again but before he can Taehyung’s quit voice is interrupting him.

“Yes it was….. because in real life…… during our fight…. you never said you didn’t love me.” Taehyung frowns. “You called us boring.” 

Just like that Yoongi’s entire world stops spinning. 


“When did you remember everything?”

They two boys now lay in the hospital bed facing each other with only their hands locked together between them. Just the way they would lay once upon a time in the bed they shared in a perfect apartment in Daegu. Yoongi gently squeezes Taehyung’s fingers when the younger smiles at him and for these moments they’re happy. 

“Two nights ago, after the nightmare.” Taehyung scoots a bit closer until Yoongi can feel his breath against his own lips and it’s not really a kiss but almost. “It all came back to me in a rush during the time that i was crying after you woke me up. I was just afraid if i stopped pretending i’d forgotten everything you would leave.”

For the first time in the two years, two minutes, two days that everything had happened, Yoongi lets his lips press against Taehyung.

“I love you, i’m never leaving.” Yoongi grins. “No matter how boring we get.”

——————————————————–

(i probably butchered this idea :c but anyways you should totally write the smut part!) (i suck at porn) 

Yes

An excerpt from July, July in honor of @dadharbour. Congrats Leah!!

I. June 1994

After graduation, Mike moves to Chicago, living with Lucas and doing grad work at the University of Chicago. Will moves out to New York and Dustin stays in California. Eleven remains in Hawkins, working at the library, reading everything in sight, starting to feel a bit constrained in the small town. She goes up to Chicago sometimes; she likes it there - the bustle of the city but less claustrophobic than New York, the lake providing space and air and light.

On this June day, Mike is visiting home, and El spends every spare minute with him. Ted and Karen have left to take Holly to summer camp, and the two take refuge from the oppressive heat in his basement. They’re feeling lazy and silly and after El makes a comment about the old blanket fort, they decide to make a new one. It’s a little bigger than the original, but not by much. They lie there side by side, Popsicles in their mouths, relaying stories of the library and the university and things they’ve heard from their friends. After a while they quiet down, almost dozing, content to hear each other’s breathing.

El stares at the blanket above her, thinking of the first time she slept under it. Scared and cold and confused, but this boy gave her clothes and a name and spoke so kindly that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep. She’s never forgotten that night, that week, every feeling she had as her world took on color and music and life. Sometimes she’s amazed that it wasn’t a dream, that it still isn’t, that she won’t wake up in that little bed with the lion in her arms and Papa just outside the door.

She’s thought about it a lot lately, over the past few months, and there’s a question dancing on her tongue but she hasn’t been able to ask it yet. Until now. Now seems perfect.

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Favorite Things-chapter 6

Favorite Things Masterlist

Summary- Max can’t handle his emotions and feelings after his successful date with Avonlea. So he deals the only way he can…by creeping on her.

Warnings- Voyeurism, Non-Con, Masturbation

Word Count-1.6k not very long sorry.

Author’s Note- Yeah…not gonna apologize. Max is crossing some lines. Also, I am really confused as to the layout of the apartment. I thought I knew what it looked like. I have poor spatial skills, and the more I watch the movie the more confused I get. Lol. So…I’m going to be really vague about the layout of the apartment. Sorry? But I am pretty sure y’all aren’t here for the architecture. I’m also giving her a water closet so that she can go to the bathroom without him seeing because the thought of him watching in while she does her business is horrifying to me. Still not beta’d and there’s probably a lot of typos because I was super excited to post because I know y’all have been waiting for forever.

Tag List- @ali-pennell @stone-met @warriorqueen1991 @sherrybaby14 @daintyunicorn @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ladylorelitany @melodicdolls @ninjacuddlepile  @neganscatleesi @thatwriterizzy @sassyfiedscribbles @ashzombie13 @wadeyourbarelyalive @starshinesupergirl @adayinmymeadow @astrangegirlsmind @vendekk @negan–is–god @toxic-ink @theatricalbride @myheart4ever47 @xdaddy-neganx @jeffreydeanmorganrarechar @autumnjade22 @badsongwinchester

Originally posted by heartfulloffandoms

Sitting in his room, Max ran his fingertips across his lips. They still tingled from her kisses. He felt his lips stretch into one of the most genuine smiles he’d felt in a long time. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. Happy.

God, he wanted her. He could have had her, but it was too soon. He didn’t want her to regret anything they did. He knew the waiting and anticipation would draw her to him. But he couldn’t wait. He had to know how she felt about him. He had to see her again.

He made his way through the dark passages easily and quietly. Would she call her mom? Did she have a good time? Did his kiss mean as much as hers? Did she wish it had never ended? Was she thinking of him? Was she imagining what could have happened?

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We had our chance (Part 4)

This isn’t what I had originally planned. There will be a part 5 soon as a continuation of this part. Hopefully tomorrow! 
Thank you SO much for your support! Your likes and reblogs seriously bring me life. I love all of you so much <3

Part 1 Part 3 Part 5 Masterlist Requests Askbox

Tags: @hopeandlovelastlonger 
(If you want me to tag you, tell me and I’ll do it!)

Pairing: Lin x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Yes, angst.

Wordcount: 3,080


-Present day-

The conversation about Lin’s new musical had brought you from the café to his apartment. Your attentive listening had allowed him to completely nerd out to the point where he had invited you to his apartment to actually show you some of the songs he was working on.

The apartment pretty much looked the same as the last time you were there in 2013, except for it being a lot messier. The piano was surrounded by piles of unused (and in some cases used) sheet paper, and here and there you could actually spot a tape lying around. Probably an old demo of some sorts.

You wanted to ask him if his fancée was living with him and, in that case, where she was now. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. As long as she wasn’t brought up, you could just pretend that she didn’t exist. It was not a very healthy thing to do, but your weakness for him won over your rational thinking.

“Okay, so this the latest. I’m still working on it so please don’t judge me to hard!” he said as he approached you from his bedroom. He stopped right behind you, holding the sheet paper in front of you. On the top of it, it had the word “Helpless” scribbled down on it, accompanied by a bunch of notes. You weren’t the best at reading sheet music really, so you just nodded.

“I guess it looks good. Will you play it for me?” you said as you turned your head to be able to look at him. As per usual, those dark eyes always made you a bit weak in the knees.

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The Edge of the Night

She wasn’t sure why it had come to a head at 1:17 AM on the last day of July, but that’s when it happened.

Tom didn’t know why he’d woken up, but even in the dark he knew right away that Taylor wasn’t in the bed alongside him.  He pulled on a t-shirt and left the bedroom, walking down and finding her in the den, curled up on the corner of the couch, surrounded by darkness.

“Hey,” he said softly when he entered the room.  He didn’t want to startle her. “Whats wrong?”  He sat down beside her and rested a hand on her back.

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” she said, turning away, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t go back with you. It’s too much.” She stood and walked to the other side of the room and looked out the window at the pitch black backyard. “I’m sorry.”

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In the Mud in France - Arthur Shelby

Request: Peaky Blinders: I have an idea for a Peaky Blinders imagine. During the war, you were a nurse that had a close bond with Arthur, to the point to were he would fake some sort of illness or something like that just so he could see you and during some attack or something like that you got hurt and die in his arms, prompting the reason why he did everything like fighting and drinking and such. From: anonymous.

In the Mud in France - Arthur Shelby

-21 August 1914- 

There was always a tent set up. A small white tent that consisted of one surgeon, two nurses, and as many supplies as they could move through France with them. They were in Alsace, all the frontier. Far away from the front lines of battle. The surgeon worked as quickly as he could, sewing up men that could be saved as more came through the curtains of the tent. 

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Finally Yours

Long, fluffy Jax imagine, with some heated smut :)

Originally posted by rideimagines

You and Jax had been best friends for about a year; Scratch that, you’d been in love with Jax for about a year. The two of you were inseparable. The moment you set eyes on him you were infatuated, and as you got to know him, you fell for him fast. Nothing has ever came of it though. The moment you’d think that he had finally realised your feelings, and that it was finally your turn to be with the man you loved, he’d have a new girl on his arm.

But as hard as it was watching him with other girls, you stuck around anyway, knowing that being his friend was better than being nothing at all.

It didn’t come without its risks though, and thats why you were currently sleeping on Jax’s sofa. You were walking home from work today when one of August Marks’ men showed up and tried to drag you into his car. Luckily, you managed to elbow him in the stomach and run into a local supermarket. You then hid in the toilets and called Jax, who told you to stay hidden until he came to get you.

Safe to say, it scared you a little bit. You were used to all the drama and trouble that comes with the club but nobody has ever physically harmed you before. Not wanting to make a big deal you told Jax it was fine, but he’d ignored you and told you he wasn’t leaving you with no protection, not until this all died down.

He’d offered you his bed, but you knew he needed the rest more than you did. The bags under his eyes and the long days at the clubhouse proving he was so invested and worried about the club, he wasn’t looking after himself.

Looking at your phone, the time shows it’s half one in the morning. You groan internally, knowing your mind is too active for you to sleep. You’d checked the doors and windows multiple times, the tiniest noises making you panic.

You bite your lip, contemplating whether to go into Jax’s room. Would he freak out? You didn’t want to scare him off or make him think you couldn’t deal with this life.

Suddenly you hear a dog bark in the distance, the noise making you jump. You shake your head, getting up and making your way to Jax’s room. Luckily, Gemma had Abel for the night, so you didn’t have to worry about possibly disturbing him by walking through the hall.

As you reach his bedroom door, your hand hovers over the handle for a moment. Should you really go in there? Would it be an overstepping of some sort of boundary?

Knowing you’re not going to get any sleep if you stay alone, and also knowing that Jax is so understanding and kind, you quietly open the door.

Upon entering, the room is dark, a sliver of light coming in through the parted curtain. Jax is lying on the right side of the bed, his back to you. You lightly close the door behind you, Jax turning to look at you. He obviously hadn’t been sleeping, either that or he’s just a very very light sleeper.

He sits up, combing his hair back with his fingers. His chest is bare, the duvet slipping, his Abel tattoo imprinted on his skin. “Is everything alright?” He asks calmly, fatigue laced in his words. You nod your head, smiling slightly at him.

“Yeah, sorry if I woke you. I’m just a bit jumpy. I probably sound like an idiot.” You quietly speak, still not moving from your position near the door. You knew it was a stupid idea to come in here. “I can go if you want.”

He smiles sadly at you, pulling the covers up, silently inviting you to get in. Your heart beats a little bit faster, as you walk over to the bed and get in. He’s only in his boxers, the sight of him so bare taking your breath away. You pull the covers over yourself, both of you on your sides facing one another.

“That shouldn’t have happened, today. I’m sorry it did, but nothing will happen to you from now on. I’ll look after you, darlin.” He speaks quietly, looking into your eyes, wanting you to feel and believe every word.

Your heart warms at the pet name, and the kindness of his words. You stop, reminding yourself that he’s saying these things as a friend, nothing more. No matter how he’s saying them, you know you trust and believe him, because your heart won’t let you do anything different.

“Thank you. It means a lot.” You blush at your close proximity, your faces just inches apart. “I’m guessing August Marks still isn’t very happy with you guys?” You question hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much.

Jax let’s out a long sigh. “I feel so lost,” he starts, his voice quite and timid. “I’ve got no idea what to do for the best when it comes to the club. I can’t look my son in the eye without feeling like a monster.” His eyes glaze over with tears, your heart clenching at the broken man before you. You feel so fortunate that he trusts you enough to be so open, his walls temporarily taken down just to let you in.

“You’re human, Jax. We all make mistakes, none of us know what we’re doing. Life doesn’t come with an instruction manual, a book of what’s right and wrong.” He watches you closely, taking in every word that comes out of your mouth. “Your son loves you, no matter the devils you carry on your shoulders. You need to stop beating yourself up and instead, take a moment to realise you’re doing the best that someone could do in your position.”

“You’re such a beautiful person, and the people who love you will see that, no matter what decisions you have to make.” You gently cup the side of his face, his eyes closing as he melts into your touch. He places his hand on top of yours, placing a small kiss to your palm before holding your hand within his own.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. You feel naked under his gaze, your insecurities eating away at you.

“How is it you always know what to say?” He whispers, a smile appearing on his face. You mirror his expression, butterflies in your stomach due to his compliment.

“I don’t. All I do is tell the truth. Sometimes it just takes someone else to help you see it for yourself.” You look at each other, your eyes taking the time to breathe him in. You can see each individual eyelash, each strand of blonde hair. Your gaze flickers down, his pink lips looking so kissable.

Catching yourself, you look back up to his eyes. He’s watching you intently, your body heating up under his watchful eye. His hand comes up, his fingertips softly pushing back a stray lock of hair, curling it behind your ear. Your eyes close subconsciously for a second, his touch so welcoming and awaited.

Your eyes can barely believe it when he starts leaning in. You follow his lead, both of you taking your time, as if the moment would be ruined if you didn’t.

Finally, his lips touch yours. You’re both cautious at first, softly experiencing each other for the first time. His fingers weave through your hair, pulling slightly as the kiss deepens. You lightly tug at his chain, the bullet cold between your fingers.

You lose yourself in one another, the kiss getting more heated as you each thirst for more. He moves one leg over you, resting his hands on either side of your head as he hovers over you, his tongue slipping past your lips. You push at the duvet covering him, your hands exploring his soft, broad back. You gently suckle on his lower lip, nibbling slightly, making him groan in appreciation.

You can feel him through his boxers, his boner touching your thigh. Throwing caution into the wind, you slip your hand past the barrier of fabric, taking him into your hand.

He moans quietly as you stroke him for the first time, his lips coming to suckle at your neck. You already know you’re going to have marks tomorrow, but you couldn’t care less, the thought of Jax leaving his mark making you moan. His facial hair tickles at your skin as you pump him, your thumb circling the head of his cock.

“Fuck (Y/N),” He moans, coming back meet his lips with yours. “Let me see you.“ He asks in between kisses, you nodding and taking your hand out of his underwear. Nerves bubble up in your stomach, worries that he’ll be repulsed by you when he sees you bare. You try to shake them off, knowing you’ll only ruin it for yourself if you don’t.

He starts to kiss down your body, peppering your collar bones with kisses. He grasps one of the straps of your tank top between his teeth, pulling it down leisurely. He uses his fingers to push it the rest of the way down, helping you to slip it off your arm completely. He repeats the process with the other strap, still making sure to grace your skin with his lips, every step of the way.

Once both of your arms are free, he looks at you, silently asking if it’s OK to continue. You grant him permission, your body hot and flustered from his attention.

He starts to pull down the top of your tank, exposing your breasts. He kisses the tops of them, leaving his marks all over, before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His hand comes up to knead the other, his fingers pinching and twisting at the bud. Your hands find home in his hair, lightly tugging at the locks as you close your eyes, reveling in the pleasure.

He continues his path, his hands pushing down your top, shorts and underwear as he kisses your stomach. You use your feet to remove the three items of clothing, you laying bare in front of him, him just in his black underwear.

He looks you up and down, his eyes drinking you in. “Damn, you’re so beautiful. How have I only just realised what a perfect woman I’ve had in front of me all this time?”

Your heart could burst, his words slipping through your ears and repeating themselves in your mind. Was this actually happening?

A soft kiss placed on your forehead brings you back to reality, Jax running his thumb across your lips before placing a gentle kiss there, too.

He sighs deeply, your full attention on him, waiting to see what he has to say. “I just want you to know, I don’t want this to be just sex. Just a one time thing. I want you to be my girl. You’ve stuck by me through so much shit, always looking after me and making sure I’m alright.“

“Abel loves you, my mom loves you, she’s been bugging me for months to grow some balls and ask you out. I guess I was just scared. Everyone I care about seems to leave, or get taken from me.” He swallows, a nervous expression on his face.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jackson. Sure, something could happen to me, but something could happen to any of us. Life is too short to be worrying constantly. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you at TM when you purposely broke my break light so you could to give me a ride home.“ You tease, bringing your lips up to meet his.

He laughs loudly, your soul singing at the wonderful sound. “You knew about that? I thought it was pretty clever to be honest.” He boasts, nuzzling into your neck, placing a single kiss on your sweet spot.

You run your hand down his chest, his firm abs making you hum in appreciation. The sexual tension is immediately back, his teeth pulling at your skin as you wrap you push down the last piece of clothing. Your legs wrap around his waist, your hand slipping between the two of you to bring his shaft to your entrance.

No words are spoken as he pushes into you, your tight, warm walls taking all of him. Your mouth parts in pleasure, a gasp escaping as Jax grazes his beard against your skin, both of you basking in the feeling of him inside you.

You squeeze his biceps as he draws out, thrusting back into you deeply, your your nails probably leaving crescent shaped marks. He rests his forehead against yours, his lips hovering over yours but not touching. His thrusts are perfectly timed, long and deep, your body sinking into the sheets as he fills you up completely.

“Jax…“ You pant, your legs pulling him into you, your body arching to meet his thrusts.

“I know, baby.” His hand comes down to rub your clit, his lips kissing you once more. You’re a mess, hair sprawled on the pillow, perspiration droplets on your forehead. But you’ve never felt more beautiful, more cherished.

Your nails scratch at his back as you come, stars clouding your vision. Your walls clench around his cock, the sensation causing him to moan into your mouth. You’re overcome with pleasure, your whole body on cloud nine as you ride out your high.

“(Y/N), I’m gonna come.” He whispers, your teeth sucking where his jaw meets his neck, making a mark of your own. You tug at his blonde locks, scratching lightly at his scalp. With a grunt, you feel his warm liquid spill inside of you, your legs pulling him I’m deep. He kisses you deeply, passionately, once more before pulling out of you slowly and rolling over on his back. He covers you over with the duvet, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

You both lay in silence for a moment, taking everything in. You smile to yourself, tracing random patterns on his chest.

“I think I could get used to this.” He breaks the silence, his chest vibrating as he speaks.

You look up at him, a small smile present on his lips. “Me too.”

A/N - DAMNNNN I’ve spent like 4 days writing this! Quite happy with the outcome. Sorry if I do a lot of Jax, he’s my fave and I figure who could say no to him? ;) I got such an amazing response to my Happy imagine that I thought I’d include smut in this one too. Sorry if there are any mistakes, I just want to finally get this posted! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Xx

Bad Timing-Josh Dun Imagine Part 2

Description: Josh and you are friends who haven’t seen each other in 2 months. When you finally do see each other things get complicated.

Warnings: None

“Come with you and do what?” you say to him with a smile of your face that you couldn’t make go away.

He scooted closer to you and grabbed your hands. “Just be there. For me. For Tyler.”

You rolled your eyes and sat on the couch correctly. “Why do you have to do this? Why now?”

“Why not? It’s the end of June, school is out and you don’t have to teach again until August.” You let your head drop and your smile went away. You knew what he was saying was true, but was it realistic? Could you drop your life here and just travel with your friends… You shook your head and broke the silence with a sniffle of tears. Before you could do anything Josh was in front of you on his knees, lifting your head up with his hands on your cheek and wiping away your tears. He was smiling this way he always did when he looked at you and suddenly it felt like you were seven again and Josh was rescuing you from the imaginary dragons. Josh had this way of making you feel secure, safe and, well, loved.

“My hero.” You whispered to him with a smile, tears still trying to form. “Okay.”

He stood up and brought you up with him. “Seriously?!” he said voice cracking from excitement. You just shook your head and that was all he needed to walk away and begin packing you a bag. It took a whole two minutes before your phone was buzzing with a message from Tyler.

Message received from Tyler Joseph:

Josh just told me you were coming with us. Jenna and I are super stoked!

You smiled and walked to your bedroom. You stood in the doorway watching Josh as he was throwing all your belongings into a red suitcase.

“A little eager are you?” You laughed and sat on the bed, motioning for Josh to join you.

“Was this your plan the whole time?” Josh rose an eyebrow in confusion. “Get so drunk that I have to come get you? Because if it weren’t for last night, I may not be sitting here watching you throw 8 pairs of shoes in a bag.” You looked at him and before he could respond you closed the distance between you two with a kiss, this time so deep that it caused Josh to lay you down on the bed, him on top of you. You continued like this until the sound of “Ode to Sleep” playing on your phone interrupted the two of you.

He broke the kiss just looking at you before planting a soft kiss on your nose.

“Dammit.” You whispered.

He grabbed your phone and laughed, shutting the alarm off. He kissed you once more before speaking,

“You set an alarm on your phone to remind you that I am leaving…” You cut him off,

“I do it every time. I don’t like it, but I feel like every time we are together is also the countdown to the time you leave again.” Your voice trailed off making you recall all the times that he was in front of you and about to say his goodbyes again. He snapped you out of these dark thoughts by saying, “Good thing about this time is you don’t have to say goodbye when you’re going with me.” He smiled, “And maybe it was my plan, to get so drunk you had to come save me. It worked.” He winked at me making me blush.

“It was nice being the one doing the saving. Well, I have to finishing packing. Will you call my mom and let her know what is going on? She will love to hear from you anyways.”  He shook his head and walked into the next room while you finished packing.

The plane ride wasn’t too long and you guys landed in New York for the next couple of shows. Everything happened so fast that you still were in a bit of shock. When you got to the hotel, you and josh walked up to your room. When you opened the door you saw two king size beds. You dropped your bag and jumped onto the bed closest to the window. Josh ran after you and jumped on the bed opposite to you.

“Can you believe it? You’re here. With me!” Josh turned on his side to the two of you were facing. You smiled and got up to open the window. The New York skyline was beautiful. You felt Josh’s strong arms wrap around you from behind. You laid your head back against his chest.

“I’m sorry the first stop isn’t more exciting. I know you have been here before.” Before he could say anymore you stopped him.

“It is perfect. It seems more magical this time!” You smiled and took in a deep breath admiring the view. “So, its 12:00 in the morning, did you want to do something or just sleep and wake up early tomorrow and explore?”

“I think we better get some rest.” Josh responded and the two of you got ready for bed.

You climbed into your bed and Josh into his. You said your goodnights and turned the lights out. You began replaying the events of the past two days in your head. You tossed and turned and after about an hour of this you finally called out.

“Josh, are you awake?” Before he could respond you continued, “It’s just that this is a new place, and I just can’t seem to quiet my mind and I can’t get comfortable…” Your voice trailed off and soon you could see Josh’s figure climbing into your bed.

“I’ve been waiting on you to invite me into this bed all night. “He laughed and kissed you softly.

“To be honest, I didn’t know how this would work.” You spoke.

Josh whispered back to you, “I think it’s the exact same except now we are dating.”

“Can you believe it? After all these years.” You responded.

You kissed him much more intense than the few times before. You trailed your hands up and down his shirtless torso and suddenly Josh was on top of you again. He broke the kiss, before saying, “We can take this as slow as you want to. We don’t have to rush into anything.”

The next words came out before you could even process them, “We’ve been taking it slow for 23 years. I don’t think anything would be a rush at this point.” You kissed him harder and your hands made your way to his hair. He was feeling your entire body and his lips had trailed to your neck making you let out small moans. As things began heating up, you heard a knock at your door.

Josh hung his head down and frustration. You got up to answer the door, knowing your frustration was easier to hide. When you opened the door you were greeted by Tyler and Jenna entering your room.

“Sorry guys, but we have to go. There has been some leaked information on twitter about our location and there are people everywhere. The car will be here in 5 minutes.” The two of them walked out and you walked back to a clearly upset Josh.

“Dammit.” You said again.

“To be continued?” He spoke as a question before picking up all of your things and heading out of the hotel.

Centuries {Peter Maximoff}

unedited. a mess. listen i genuinely don’t know what this is. Peter/Reader soulmate au set sort of during/mostly post-XMA. everyone’s born with a counter on their wrist counting down to when they’ll meet their soulmate. have fun. (TA is teacher’s assistant; reader is mid-20s)


72:00:20

“You’re gonna meet him soon.” You’re on a day trip to Broadway with the drama class you’re TA of when the world goes to shit, and now you’re sitting on a bus as the world is torn apart around you. However, the real problem is your asshole, precognitive, best friend and fellow TA in the seat next to you.

“Yeah right, with my luck, my soulmate’s a moleman and we meet because he’s literally ripped out of the Earth.” Beside you, another building’s metal foundations are torn out and soar off into the horizon. The bus is vibrating ominously.

“Not a moleman.” They grinned knowingly - unsurprising, that vague prick - before they tipped their head thoughtfully, eyes glazing over as they did whenever they were focusing on a vision. “But he is an asshole.” You found yourself stuck between a sarcastic ‘well great’ and ‘don’t joke like that, you know it’s not funny’ but the words stick in your throat, and all you can do is look at the little counter on your wrist.

Unlike most other people you knew, you were pretty sure your soulmate countdown was broken. Since the day you were born, it had never worked right; the clock counted down in hours until you and your soulmate would meet, and your clock had so many numbers that it wrapped around your tiny infant wrist like a tattooed bracelet; the doctors told your disheartened mother that it would be over a century until you found your soulmate. However, some time around August, when you were ten years old, the counter had begun to jump down rapidly, sometimes even months at a time, annoying you and confusing everyone around you. It had been years since the numbers had behaved with any sense of normalcy, and the counter as a whole had become a sore subject that you vehemently denied discussing. Mostly you tried to pretend it didn’t exist, because there was no way it meant anything, and if it did, it couldn’t be good.

It didn’t stop you wondering, as you watched it jump down a few minutes at a time before your very eyes… Still, your best friend’s visions had never been wrong before.

18:51:03

No. This couldn’t be happening. This stupid thing is broken, it must be; it’s been almost a full twenty-four hours since you last saw it jump. Somehow this, above everything else is what you’re concerned with, above finding a crater where your school was, above meeting a CIA agent calling herself Moira proclaiming that Charles is in the hospital and that the world has been saved. Well, those aren’t her exact words, but it’s what she means, and Professor McCoy is by her side, so Charles must be alright. You comply easily as you and your students are hoarded to a nearby lodge that was abandoned in a panic and that the government will totally pay for them to stay at if anyone realises they’re there.

This, of course, means you’re free to brood by a window for as long as you please, glaring at your wrist as it counts down normally. Of course now it makes you wait.

Of course you had pictured in your head what your soulmate like be like; when you were a child, your first thought would be that he would look like your grandfather, which scarred you for a good few years, so instead you pictured a soft-face woman, reminiscent of your grandmother, who would make you cookies and read you bedtime stories. Your understand grew as you did, and as a teenager your imagination runs wild, picturing yourself as a world traveller, adventuring, exploring, and searching for your one true love in the remote corners of the world. You were never sure of their gender, but they were always beautiful and successful, a self-indulgent fantasy that you found sad to even entertain. As an adult, you simply pictured the clock counting down to zero, and looking up into the eyes of someone whose smile felt like home. 

02:06:57

“Are you sure they’re alright to come here so soon?” Moira’s voice was low, talking to Hank in the kitchen when most of the kids were in bed. You hadn’t meant to be eavesdropping, but you’re pretty sure you can hear every second tick by and it’s making you antsy.

“Erik hasn’t left Charles’s side since he was admitted and Charles doesn’t have the strength to keep Erik invisible forever.” Hank sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, exasperated. Moira clicked her tongue. “And before you ask, even Charles knows not to exert Jean like that after what happened, also she has morals when it comes to mass-murderers.”

“I know I shouldn’t be suggesting this, but-” Moira sounds genuinely nervous as she speaks, but after a brief hesitation she goes on, “could you smuggle out all the equipment, you know, keeping him alive?” From what you know of the rest of the city, it’s a surprise there’s even a hospital standing, but if Erik is the same Erik as Magneto, anything was possible. Hank agrees, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to.

00:01:38

You had fallen asleep in the common room, waiting for Hank to return to make sure the Professor was okay- which was a total lie, you were secretly terrified that Magneto was your soulmate and were suddenly totally comfortable with the idea of sleeping through that meeting time. 

Woken by a terrifyingly fast and consistent knocking on the front door, you don’t even think to look at your counter as you stand, bleary-eyed and annoyed, to open it.

Open up! The world-savers have arrived!” The voice on the other side is unfamiliar, but annoying and in mild danger of waking up the students.

It’s three in the fucking morning; there is no need for that.” An unfamiliar, lightly accented voice snaps, irritatingly familiar until the door unlocks itself before you get to it and you realise it’s Magneto, voice unchanged from the speech he gave over a decade ago at the Washington Summit. Shit.

Standing dumbfounded in the hallway, you watch as the door swings open of its own accord and you’re suddenly overcome by a yawn, scrubbing a hand over your weary face. Stopping dead, mid-yawn, your attention looks at the counter as it clicks down the final seconds, and you hear the annoying voice from before.

“Did I wake you?” He’s not a moleman, he’s a silver-haired guy with his leg in a cast and crutches under his arms, eyes bright in a way that means he’s on some sort of pain medication and low on sleep. You shake your head, mouth still half-open in shock, and he steps over the threshold, letting Magneto, holy shit, pass by, and Hank roll in the Professor, along with a heavy-duty array of machinery that Jean is squinting at furiously, making it follow Charles telekinetically, greeting you with a half-aware hand wave. Like a bolt of lightning had hit him, Peter’s moving at the speed of light, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket.

“I think I’m meant to be meeting my soulmate soon,” he’s definitely on something, as his mouth is moving a mile a minute, and he’s squinting at the wrong wrist, “I hope its not a student,” he half laughs, “that would be weird!” He’s holding out his non-counter hand out to you, trying to pull back the sleeve of his other wrist with his teeth, “I’m Peter, by the way-” bemusedly, you shake his hand, but he’s suddenly gone very stiff.

“I’m [Y/N].” You say, slowly, shaking his hand weakly as his gaze lifts to meet yours, incredulous smile on his face. Already you can feel a blush work it’s way up your cheeks, but the look in his eyes isn’t creepy or dangerous, it’s something almost grateful, bordering on adoration and… relief. “I’m your soulmate.”

Sign of the Times

→ You can find Chapter 1 here and request a fanfiction here!

Bughead + FP x Alice parallels  

Chapter 2: Letters and Melodies

Betty had skipped class that monday morning, she was too embarrassed to face Jughead. What would she say if she encounter him? How would she solve things? He didn’t even wanted to hear her after the fight, nor could FP convince him.

Alone at home, she was still crying about that night’s events. Chuck Clayton had exposed her deepest secret and now everyone knew that part of her, the part Betty was ashamed of. Her dark side, the one she could not control it.

The palms of her hands were burning. She no longer knew what to do. She had lost herself.

It was after ten in the morning when she decided she needed to do something to distract herself before her thoughts drove her crazy. Betty put on her shoes and decided to look in the basement for something to do. As a child, she and Polly loved spending time finding their parents’ antiques, making up stories with the items they found.

Back in the basement, Betty began rummaging through the places she could not reach as a child, places where her mother kept things she did not want to find again.

There, among dusty shoe boxes and old sheets, Betty found a hardcover book, it has already yellowed pages, hidden in the bottom of the last shelf. When she took it in her hands, she noticed a padlock locking it’s pages. She frowned, was it a diary? Alice’s, maybe?

Encouraged by the possible mystery, Betty Cooper wiped the dust off the cover of the journal with her sweater and sprinted back to her room. It was there, between the pillows in her bed, that Betty discovered a story she had never dreamt to exist. A great love story, almost unbelievable.

That was Alice’s diary, and it’s pages were filled with Forsythe Pendleton Jones II.


January 13, 1997

Dear Diary,

I’m so happy I finally got the waitress job at Pop’s, it’s nighttime, so it pays well. It is very comforting to know that I am far from the place I am obliged to call home, but it also means less time with FP. He also works at night on the Twilight Drive on Thursdays and Fridays, and during the afternoon he helps Fred’s parents with the family business. So we’ll only see each other at school, but it will be worth it.

Our dreams are finally becoming true.

We’re going to get out of here. I know it.


May 22, 1997

Dear Diary,

I’m so tired! Working at Pop’s takes all my energy, and I have to work hard to get good grades aswell, without them I’ll never be able to get into the journalism course I desire so much. Hermione says I have to get lighter, but how? I need the damn money. We need.

FP got a scholarship in Notre Dame! He always been too smart for a small town like Riverdale. We’re going together, it’s our chance, but FP is being surrounded by the Serpents again, and I’m afraid he’ll do something wrong.


August 6, 1997

My mother left. She didn’t say goodbye. She left me alone like I was an old disposable furniture. I didn’t cry, I just stood there watching her leave through the night.

She was the last one to leave me, now there is only FP left.

We were both constantly abandoned, but will we one day abandon each other as well?


August 22, 1997

FP and I had a fight because of Hal Cooper.

When will Forsythe realize that I have zero interest in these boys?

FP is my past, my present and also my future.

I love him so much that it hurts in my chest. It is possible to love somebody that much?


September 9, 1997

FP is sleeping by my side, his face looks so much younger when he’s relaxed, not thinking about our problems. His handsomeness leaves me breathless.

I love him.


October 18, 1997

Our fights are constant; FP wants to accept the business with the Serpents. He wants to make a delivery on their behalf and get the money we need to leave Riverdale.

I’m afraid of losing him.


A noise in the front door made Betty Cooper hide the diary under the mattress of her bed, hurriedly, she wiped away the tears streaming down her face and rushed into the bathroom. She tried to calm herself, but her heart was pounding in her chest, the sensation was almost painful. Her mother did not love her father, she loved another man. FP Jones,  Jughead’s father, member of the Southside Serpents, the misfit from the wrong side of the tracks.

Her mother loved a Jones.

The panic attack came without Betty being able to fight it. She slipped to the floor, her body was trembling and her hands were ice cold. She could barely breathe. Her sobbing filled the empty bathroom for until there were no more sounds. She fainted.

[…]

When she woke up, Betty was back on her bed with her mom massaging her feet.

“Mom?” -  She asked.

“Honey! Have you had your pills today?“ - Alice asked, approaching Betty and holding her hands.

"Yes.” - Betty lied. “It was just a drop of pressure, I haven’t eaten today.” - She said, sitting up in bed and smiling weakly at Alice.

“Well, I’ll make you a nice lunch, then.” - Alice said, winking at Betty and walking out of the room.

Betty waited for lunch to be ready and forced herself to eat with Alice without asking her about what she had just discovered, she knew that her mother would lie, or even say that Betty was hallucinating. Then, after Alice got back to work, Betty took the diary and put it in her backpack along with her things, grabbed a jacket and went to the construction site on the Drive-In land.

She needed to talk with FP Jones.

[…]

“Mr Jones?” The melodious voice of Betty Cooper startled FP at first. He turned to face the girl, who looked paler than usual.

"Hey, Betty.” - He replied, taking off his helmet and walking alongside the girl towards the trailer.

“Can we talk?” - Betty asked, standing in front of FP.

“Is it about Jughead? Look, I… “ - He stopped talking as Betty removed the blue notebook from her backpack and showed him. FP held the material in his hands, overwhelmed.

Of course he remembered that diary. How could he forget, if he was the one that had given it to Alice, twenty years ago.

“Can we talk?”- Betty asked again, getting only a head shake back. FP was still staring at the  blue cover. Twenty years later, but it still seemed like yesterday. Her scent was still there, the glance of her smile and all the memories one day they had shared together.

[…]

“You read it?”- FP asked, back in his trailer, sitting in his armchair.

"Just a few parts, the beginning mostly…” - Betty replied, sitting uncomfortably on the couch. “I just need to know what …” before Betty could continue, FP stood up suddenly.

“You didn’t tell this to Jughead, did you?” - FP asked, taking the diary in his hands. Betty shook her head. “Shit, this cannot be happening, so long after…” - FP grunted, his face sinking into his hands, his expression in pure sorrow. Betty felt bad for him.

“I’m sorry; I just need to know the truth.” - Betty was sincere, looking up at FP. They stared at each other for a moment, until, without saying anything, he left the room and returned short after, holding what seemed to be letters.

"If you want to know the story, at least know all parts of it.” - He said, handing the papers to Betty.

“What are these letters?” - Betty asked, picking up a sheet of paper.

“They’re not letters, they’re lyrics … Songs, poems … I don’t know, I was never good with words like your mother, but I tried to say … Explain what it felt like.” - He answered, taking a bottle of whiskey and throwing himself back into the chair, drinking the liquid from the bottle.

“You can keep it. I don’t want it anymore.” - It was the last thing he said before he broke off. Betty was silent, alternating glances between the papers on her lap and her father-in-law. Then she decided it was time to leave and on the way home, unable to help herself, she read one of the sheets.

“Under the diner neon lights

she smiled at me

And for a few seconds

Before everything turned to ashes

The whole world became

A good place to live…”