the cascade room

10

BioShock  (Irrational  2007)

Rapture is a city like no other. Built on the seafloor of the North Atlantic ocean, it was a place to escape the growing threat of nuclear war, as well as government and religious interference, while at the same time championing things like personal freedom, science and industry. Construction began in 1945 and it was officially opened up to its carefully chosen guests on Nov 5, 1946. With its grand Art Deco architecture, glowing neon signs and glass tunnels connecting the towering buildings, it was a spectacle that could take your breath away, time and time again.

BioShock as a whole hits so many right notes and i feel it’s one of gaming’s crowning achievements, especially when it comes to its visuals. Something that’s quickly apparent is that you’ve never played a game that looks quite like this. Its well researched art direction is flawless and coupled with creepy atmosphere and the huge glass windows looking out into the depths, it has a way of mesmerizing you from the second you start playing.

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“1940″ Chapter Two

(banner credit: @tiostyles​)

The one where you fall in love with a soldier named Alex.

Read Chapter One here

Swing, Baby!

April 1938

London, England

There was a childlike innocence about you when Alex first led the two of you inside – it took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lights and your feet stopped just shy of the threshold. Eyes wide and lips parted just so, you took in the scene in front of you. Girls with big skirts twirled around on the dance floor, partners close in tow. The bass plucked out a steady beat you could feel thumping in your chest. Shouts and laughter were cascading throughout the room and there was a rather indescribable energy about the place.

Alex thumbed over your hand he’d so carefully held in his the entire walk here.

“Shall we?” he asked with a grin.

You eagerly nodded your head, causing Alex to chuckle beside you. The band strung out the last few notes of a song, and he led you to the edge of the dance floor, waiting for those exiting to walk off and take their spot. The dance floor was easily a few degrees warmer than the rest of the building, but with all of the energy and laughter, how could it not?

A man with a pinstripe suit walked over to the microphone on the band’s platform.

“Is everyone enjoying themselves?” he called out.

A roar of cheers and yells from the crowd of dancers answered him, and he signaled to the band to start again. The bass started up again, and with the wail of a trumpet, the people around you began to move.

“I might be a little rusty,” you spoke over the music, “It’s been quite a –,”

“I’ve got yeh, love,” Alex winked at you, “Gentlemen are supposed t’lead, remember?”

Before you could rattle off another response, he grabbed your hand and spun you, starting the momentum that would carry the pair of you through the dance. While it had been at least a year or so since you’d danced with a partner to this caliber, it very quickly came back to you.

Alex knew his steps as well, making it much easier to get into a rhythm. His hand held yours tightly as he twirled you, dipped you back, and sometimes when the music swelled just right, picked you up and spun you in the air. Laughs cried out from your mouth with no sign of stopping any time soon. The very nature of swing dancing is energetic and quick, allowing for little communication. Alex would whisper the names of the steps coming up next in your ear as you passed by, trusting he’d be there to catch you when you prepared to turn a new way.

You liked the way he felt strong around your waist, making sure you knew he was there to guide you. He was your anchor, and you were there to be shown off.

The two of you danced through many songs and were left breathless by the amount of energy you’d put out. As the night went on, the pairs dwindled down to only a few, including Alex and yourself.

It must have been nearing ten o’clock, as Alex kept glancing down at his wristwatch.

“One more dance, yeah?” he moved to your side and spoke into your ear over the chatter in the room, “Can’t have yeh home late, your pops would hang me!”

You turned to him, a fake pout on your lips, “I guess so,” you said reluctantly, being a bit dramatic in your tone. But, truth be told, you didn’t want to mind the curfew set in place. You didn’t want to leave Alex. This was the most free you’d felt in ages.

“Aw petal, don’t gimme tha’ look,” he bantered back, “Where’d my firecracker go?”

The band abruptly counted off another song, and you took your place – hands together with Alex, facing him and waiting for the right beat to start. He gave you a cheeky grin before sending you backward in a turn and quickly catching you back in his arms. Your laughs sounded like bells as the two of you twirled around each other and you knew you’d be sore in the morning, as your legs already felt wobbly.

The last note rang out and cheers erupted from the crowd and Alex looked down at his wrist once again. The fact that he was continuously checking warmed your heart just a bit – his cocky and boastful attitude was really just something of a cover. He really cared that he made a good impression on your father.

“C’mon, m’lady,” he took your hand in his and led you (begrudgingly) toward the door. The night air felt refreshing on your cheeks after being so warm.

Alex walked by your side, hand keeping a firm grip on yours. The two of you walked in silence on your way back – it wasn’t uncomfortable though. It felt right.

“I had a really lovely time tonight, Alex,” you broke the silence. His name still made your cheeks blush, and you were very glad it was too dark to notice. He was glad you couldn’t hear the way his heart was all but beating out of his chest.

“I did, too, y/n,” he took a quick glance over at you, biting back a grin as he said your name.

It was like the two of you were school children, not twenty-year-olds, with the way you were acting. Bashful, shy, and sweet.

“I’d love to go again, if you’d like to?” your tongue stumbled over the question, “Say, what time is it anyway?”

“F’course I’d love t’go again,” he laughed, “S’only just after half past nine o’clock.” His voice grew softer, sheepish almost.

“Only half past?” you stopped walking, “Alex! We could still be dancing! We still have –,”

Alex turned to face you and you looked up to meet his eyes, pout on your face authentic this time.
“Jus’ wanted to spend more time talkin’ with yeh, promise,” he said warmly, “Love dancin’ jus’ as much as the next, but yeh can’t learn about a person jus’ by the way they dance.”

“You sneaky crow,” you poked at him, “What do you want to know then, hm?”

Alex chuckled at your seemingly threatening manner, leading you towards a bench near your father’s storefront before continuing. You nervously throw a look over your shoulder to the windows of the shop, relieved when you see that the lights are off, and your family is tucked up in their flat.

“Still have a few minutes, don’t worry,” Alex said reassuringly, “M’keepin’ an eye on the time.”

He was still holding your hand as the two of you sat there, giving it a squeeze every so often to remind you that he was there.

“So, Mr. Alex Mason,” you announced, “What do you want to know?”

“Nothin’ specific, yeh could talk about the moon or a lad yeh saw walkin’ down the street the other day, and I’d be enamored.”

You laughed, “You sure you want to hear about the lads I’ve eyed walking down the road?”

“Need t’know who my competition is, don’t I?”

“Well in that case,” you let the words hang in the air, jokingly.

Alex’s face fell just slightly, “S’there…”

“Oh,” you shook your head, “No, no there’s no one! Heavens, no.”

“Jus’ checkin’, y/n,” he said with a wink, something you’d learned to be one of his everyday mannerisms, along with the way he’d rather precisely rub his nose twice mid-sentence…  

You caught yourself subconsciously staring at Alex. There was a pull between the two of you, its grip tight upon your shoulders. His lips fell silent as he studied over your face, features still prominent even in the dim light of the streetlamp a few feet away. He leaned in a bit closer and you couldn’t help but do the same. A shudder of butterflies ran through your stomach as the space between you became less and less obvious and Alex began to duck his head towards yours.

“Ah, there we are!” a voice you knew all too well called over towards the bench you were on.

Alex immediately backed away, an almost obnoxious amount of space now sat among you,

“F’course,” he whispered, shaking his head. Alex then offered his hand to you, and helped you to stand.

Walking hand in hand, you approached your father, standing expectantly in front of the store. The front light had been turned on, and he stood there with a warm smile on his face. You should have anticipated this happening – he loved hearing about your adventures more than anything, and as the eldest girl, he was a bit protective over you.

“Have a good night?” he asked excitedly, not minding the fact that he’d basically interrupted the date you’d been on.

“Very, you’ve got a lovely daughter, Mr. Hughes,” Alex boasted. You noticed he stood up a little straighter any time he was conversing with your father, and his voice spoke just a smidgen stronger.

“That I do,” your father turned to look at you, “I’ll be upstairs, make sure you lock up once you’ve bid your farewells?”

“Of course, goodnight Father,” you said with a grin, stepping over to give him a quick hug.

“Thank you for taking care of her, lad,” your father nodded toward Alex, reaching out to shake his hand, “Hope t’see you around the store sometime soon.”

That phrase was music to your ears, and you tried your best to hide the look of surprise on your face. You father said his last goodbyes of the night, and walked back inside the store.

Alex took your hands in his again, “Looks like this won’t be the last time yeh see me, hmm love?”

“Rats,” you said with a laugh, “Was hoping my dancing would be enough to drive you off!”

“Stop bein’ ridiculous,” he pursed his lips, furrowing a brow at you, “Would take a lot more than tha’ t’get me t’leave yeh.”

“Good,” you poked him square on the nose, “Like havin’ you around.”

“I quite like havin’ yeh ‘round, too, sweets.”

A quick silence fell over the two of you, and you tossed a look over your shoulder, back to the store where your family was probably waiting anxiously for you to get back to.

“I should go,” you spoke quietly, hands still intertwined with his, “I really did have a lovely time.”

You looked up to meet his vibrantly green eyes, seemingly glowing in the night light.

“I did too,” he unhooked your hands to place one of his on your cheek, caressing it softly. They felt different than when they were pressed into your back or holding you tightly dancing earlier that night – they were more gentle, tender, safe – “I’d very much like t’kiss yeh, but tha’s a bit rushed for the first date, yeh?”

“A gentleman, I see,” you teased him, sincerity glinting in your eyes, “Guess you’ll have to stick around a bit longer for that, hm?”

“Guess I will,” he couldn’t help but grin. You were such a catch.

“Goodnight, Mr. Mason.”

“And goodnight to you too, Miss Hughes.”

You took a small step back, hands falling to your sides. The grin that had been painted on your face for most of the night was still burning into your cheeks. You were confident it would be embedded in your features for days to come. It made your jaw sore, but the joy and happiness you felt was too much to contain.

Alex watched after you, that smirk hanging on his lips. The two of you didn’t exchange any words after that – he simply made sure you made it inside the shop and waiting for the light to turn off before he began his trek home.

***

Once inside the store, you took a moment to properly reflect on the night. There had been so many moments you wanted to be sure to remember forever – the song you first danced to, how it felt to hand his hand on the walk back home, the way he looked at you before you’d been interrupted by your father… You squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself to commit them to memory. A yawn fell past your lips, and you decided it was a wise choice to retreat back to your room.

Slipping up the stairs as quietly as you could in your heels, you’d hoped to make little conversation with whomever would possibly still be awake this late. Lucky for you, your father had truly gone to bed when he’d left the two of you outside, and you were free to get dressed for bed on your own terms.

Once you’d battled through your now-knotted hair, taken the lipstick from your lips, and changed into your pyjamas, you let yourself fall back into your bed. Smile still perched happily on your face and memories reflecting through your mind, you drifted off peacefully to sleep, dreaming of the next time you’d see him.

It had been, quite possibly, the best night of your life.


Chapter Three to be posted on Sunday at 9 PM EST! 

Lucky

Characters: Bucky x POC!Reader, Sam makes an appearance, lots of people are mentioned.

Warnings: fluff. lots of swearing because I can’t stop myself. Bad science jokes. Bucky’s kinda sad and doesn’t know what privacy means. 

Word count: 3,895

Originally posted by elaacreditava


Bucky hates being home alone. No, not because of the constant nagging urge to look over his shoulder, the dark creeping feeling in the hallways, or even the dark thoughts that plague him at night. It’s none of that.

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2

Sodapop gets drunk for the first time… (part two of x)

A/N: There will be a part 3, I began to write this and realized that it was way too long.)

“I don’t think I can just leave him there, Two-Bit” You whispered softly, stopping in your tracks so you could look at him steadily. 

“Hey, he’ll be fine, he is with me.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You said jokingly. You looked down as a sigh escaped your lips. “I can’t just let them take advantage of him.” 

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Notice Me

“Ah,” a sigh from behind you, “Young love- isn’t it great?”

“It is,” you agree.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Teacher!Jungkook x reader, BadBoy!Yoongi x reader

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

Rustle.

Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.

You twist your head to the side, “Jungkook,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the cotton pillow. The bed sheets covered your shoulders as you begin stretching out your legs, kicking another pair in the process. Jungkook groaned. The apartment was quiet with the morning just beginning. With your legs intertwined, the sound of the morning traffic began to course its way through your bedroom window. The early sunrise seeped through the room, cascading various stripes of light onto the linen sheets.

Rolling over to the side, with the sheets tucked underneath your chin, you chuckled. Laying beside you with closed eyes and a soft snore, Jungkook remained quiet under your stare. The bed sheets snuggled all the way to his nose. Reaching an arm out from beneath the sheets your fingers softly combed through his tangled bed head revealing his forehead. Shuffling closer, you lean in to press your lips against his forehead.

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                                Burden Of Love: Part Two

Part One

                                               Summary:

In the time of 1974, you find yourself alone and on the streets of Los Angeles. Without a home or a penny to your name you happen to stumble on the club known as “Goldie’s.” it wasnt until you meet the eyes of Clay Appuzzo, the charming and struggling comedian - that you thought you could get more in life. Full of heartbreak, passion, and loss - Falling in love with Clay Appuzzo was the greatest adventure you had been waiting for.

Notes:

Clay Appuzzo (I’m Dying Up Here) x Reader

Cursing, angst, Mention of Drugs and Alcohol, Multiple Smut Scenes.

if you’d like to be tagged, send me an ask! :)

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Morning After - Jaehyun

Requested: can u make jaehyun morning after, thank you ily and your writings

A/N: Bless, ily too bby^^

Word Count: 636


You woke up lazily, propping yourself up with your elbow and squinting through your hazy eyes. You slid out from the sheets and let out a quiet groan, your body felt like lead. You quietly trudged to the bathroom and turned on the lights. Your eyes adjusted slowly and you looked at yourself in the mirror, turning to view your other angles. Jaehyun had been rather gentle actually; you only had a few angry red scratches and a couple light bruises. Your eyes traveled up to grimace at your disheveled hair. You peered out the door to see Jaehyun’s back, the sheets draped over his hip. You decided against a shower since you didn’t want to wake him.

You had a makeup bag that was always kept at his place, for days like these. You knelt and pulled it out of the cabinet below his sink before quickly unzipping it.

‘Hairbrush? Check. Toothbrush? Check…’ in your mind you speedily took attendance of all your necessities.

After about 30 minutes in the bathroom you came back into the bedroom feeling refreshed and decently clean. You pranced to Jaehyun’s closet and rummaged for your clothes you kept at his place. After changing you opened the blinds, light cascading into the dark room. Smiling, you found your phone and knelt by the side of the bed. You tried to focus the camera on his beautiful face, the rays of light making him seem even more angelic. His skin, smooth and clear, not a blemish in sight, his eyebrows, thick and dark, but still soft. You scanned his peaceful face, he was so handsome, you sighed a little to yourself and clicked the button, the sound of the camera shutter going off in the room. Your eyes roamed his messy hair then trailed down to his chest, softly moving with every breath, his muscular arms. Carefully you climbed onto the bed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, leaning back to shake his firm shoulder.

“Wake up~” you cooed.

He let out a low noise before burying his face into his pillow and stretching his arms out to hug it. You got closer to him and viciously attacked his sides. With wide eyes he abruptly sat up, pushing your hands off. His eyes softened and he knit his eyebrows together to form a playful scowl. You quickly glanced at the entirety of his exposed chest, a sly smile forming on your lips.

“How come you’re already dressed?” he asked, falling back down limply, pulling you from your sitting position.

“I wanted to see you” he added.

“You see me now” you said lying down, pinching his cheek.

His smile broadened, “I meant see what I did to you last night.”

Your cheeks got hot as you lifted you shirt a little, showing him a mark. His warm hand reached across and caressed your hip gently, running his thumb over the mark.

“You’re so beautiful- I can never get over it” he said, pulling your shirt back down and smiling at you, his dimples showing.

“I’m going to shower” he added, turning the other way and yawning.

“I’m hungry” you whined, getting up again.

You decided to leave him to go and start breakfast on your own in the kitchen. He came out about 20 minutes later. You could tell he had showered as his hair was still damp. He wore just a pair of gray sweat pants and slippers. You were just pouring glasses of orange juice to serve with the pancakes you had made. He slipped his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You do so much for me~” he cooed, lacing his fingers together.

“Because I love you.”

“I love you too” he said before moving to capture your lips in a sweet, passionate kiss.


I hope you liked it, I wanted it to be sweet and realistic, but also not the same as every other “Morning After” scenario.

Btw I have like 5 Jaehyun smut requests in my inbox-

Maybe you guys think it is low-key gross I didn’t have you shower kek

Threnodies for Leto, Songs for Fenris - Part 1/3
  • Fandom: Dragon Age
  • Rating: Explicit
  • Pairing: Fenris x F!Hawke
  • AO3 Link: Click Here

He learns to say no. He whispers it to himself in the dead of night, up at faintly blinking stars. He practices. He takes pleasure in it – the sound of it on his tongue, the way it feels in his mouth. The ability to speak his mind. To have choice. No. At first he fears the use of it. He has been taught how to bite his tongue too well. Fenris knows what comes with hesitation, denial. It begins with the dark frown, the biting word and ends in the lash, in punishment. Hawke asks if he would like to come with them on a day he had planned for other things. “No, I – I would rather not,” he says as he braces himself. Stiffens the line of his back, the square of his shoulders, prepares for the reprimand. She only smiles, leans against the doorframe, crosses her arms.

“That’s alright. I’ll bring you back something,” she tells him. He still feels it even after she leaves. Leaning against his closed door, hands in fists against the wood. The heavy beating of a nervous heart, the faint rush of adrenalin that pumps through every vein. He smiles, laughs to himself, presses a hand against his forehead. It is that first ‘no’ which gives him the allowance of more. He tells Varric that no, he does not want to try the Hanged Man’s mystery soup. The dwarf shrugs, chews on some unidentifiable grey meat. Merrill asks him to pick mushrooms with her and he tells her no, and she goes to ask Anders. He steps back when Isabela holds out a fish for him to hold, a very flat no, and she throws it at the back of Hawke’s head.

He learns acceptance. The right of rage, permission of grief. Fenris mourns the life he never knew, bitter to the one he has left behind, learns to take joy in the one he is creating. Hawke is a welcome figure on his doorstep, and he finds he likes the sound of her voice. They speak of anything that comes to mind, Hawke an attentive listener to anything he has to say. Some nights it is no more than comfortable silence, shared space, and a few times Hawke falls asleep in the chair. They find which bakery he likes best, learns that apple pastries are his favorite. She brings him a bottle of Ferelden ale. They drink it together, and it’s Hawke who smashes this bottle against the wall.

Isabela teaches him how to skip stones. She laughs as he growls frustration at the third one that simply sinks. She cheers when the sixth finally goes, three pathetic hops, but more than good enough. Anders and Varric double over in laughter together as he wakes to find Merrill has braided daisies into his hair. He spars with Aveline, helps her bridge the opening she leaves on her right. She gives him a small bag of cookies in thanks and a “please don’t tell Isabela I bake.” Times spent at the Hanged Man with everyone else, and they shout over the table, slap down coin and card. He watches them argue and laugh, smiles to himself.

He reacquaints himself with loneliness. Kirkwall seems harsher now that Hawke has gone to the Deep Roads, a little quieter, somewhat cold. A sudden realization of what her presence means. Fenris misses her most on the nights alone with himself, mind moving in torturous circles. Speaking with the others is never quite the same, they don’t listen the way she does. Her presence in his mansion has always been welcome, while others feel intrusive, a churning in his gut. She had leaned forward and smiled, put her hand over his. “Go see the others while I’m gone,” she had said, “you can’t stay cooped up in here all the time.” He does his best to honor this promise.

Merrill has found herself managing the clinic in Darktown, fielding questions of where Anders had gone. He brings her the supplies she has in her house, buys more with his own coin when she runs out. Fenris walks the late patrols with Aveline, knowing she takes the more dangerous routes. She tells him he doesn’t have to. She thanks him anyway. She tells him how proud she is of the guards in training, gives glowing admiration of the others. One in particular. He tells himself he must find a way to meet this Donnic. He helps defend Isabela from those who call her a cheat, and from behind the safety of his sword, she proudly admits it. He pulls her arm over his shoulders, walks her to her room, and puts a bucket beside her bed.  

Fenris lies in his own bed, looking through the cracks in his roof. He likes it best when it rains, falling into the buckets he carefully places. The sound of drops against tin, the fluttering moonlight that cascades into the room. He knows that Hawke is sleeping under a different sky, one of rock and stone, in a place she’d rather not be. “I’m frightened of being underground,” she had confessed, “all of that above my head… just makes me uneasy.” He lies awake and wonders if Hawke is wondering about him. Rolling over to bury his face in his pillow, shame in wanting one of his only friends. A desire that had lain dormant, feelings he didn’t know he could have. He dreams of her laughter, of blue eyes and freckles, and brushing hair behind her ear.

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Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15

AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit.

RATING: T

I hadn’t gone too far on my walk that afternoon. The place that I did venture to was a serene little spot underneath an oak tree: a location that I had been to many times with my master.
I just needed some time to myself following the conversation that I had with Elsie, as it had made me uneasy about my imminent future once again.
The truth was that I had somehow forgotten all about Lavinia, which was because Loki had not mentioned anything about her since the May Day picnic. The solitude of the quiet hour spent beneath the mighty tree allowed my spirits to be restored, and I grew joyous at the prospect of spending the approaching evening with Loki, Agnes and her family.

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Half of You

Requested by: @katythekitty​ How about 9 and Jungkook? Part of the Valentine’s Day prompt series.

Genre: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 1895

Originally posted by rainbowboombox


When Jungkook told you he’d prepared something super romantic for the two of you, you had to be honest, you didn’t expect much. He’d swung the door open before you’d even been able to knock. Your fist was left hovering in the air, and you wondered if you looked as surprised as you felt.

“Have you been waiting there the whole time?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

He reached out and grabbed your hand to pull you inside with his foot kicking the front door shut behind you. Jungkook wasted no time to continue dragging you towards what you figured was the living room. Your legs struggling to keep up with his until he abruptly stopped causing you to run into his back.

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Communication

Rating: E, Ship: Captain Swan

Disclaimer: None of the OUAT world belongs to me.

So this is my soft re-entry into the world of fic writing.

It’s a silly, smutty one-shot that wouldn’t leave my head while I worked on longer things.  Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are my own.

TIA to anyone that reads!

Set directly after 6x17

Communication

The walk back to the house is charged, littered with touches and caresses, brief pecks foreshadowing the main event.

Henry’s wrinkled nose and refusal to meet their eyes as he volunteered to stay at Regina’s that night spoke volumes but neither Emma nor Killian could find it in themselves to be embarrassed.  Yes, her parents had been separated for longer than they had and she knows it’s selfish to be running off, barely pausing for the customary threeway hug Snow and David have been unable to give her for the last few weeks before almost throwing her brother into their arms, but right now there’s something else she needs.

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montparnassee  asked:

Okay but did Eponine and Cosette set Jehan and Montparnasse up on a blind date

2.5k and a link on AO3 later

Montparnasse was pretty sure that Eponine and Cosette finally getting together was the last seal required to spark off Armageddon. It had to be. Otherwise why else would Eponine act so weird? His roommate had been replaced by some permanently and frankly creepy smiling being who spent her time on the phone giggling like a middle schooler who’d drunk half a glass of apple cider. Montparnasse had heard her sing this morning, for fuck’s sake! Something had fallen apart in the fabric of the universe, and Montparnasse was trapped in the uncanny valley.

And honestly, he could have dealt with their syrupy lovey-dovey bullshit if they didn’t actively try to drag him into their cult. Now that they knew the bliss of young love, Cosette and Eponine had convinced each other that Montparnasse needed to be infected with the same ailment. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

Montparnasse didn’t date. It was a principle of his. So when Eponine ambushed him in a stereotypical Parisian café on a fine Saturday afternoon, Montparnasse’s first reflex was to flee towards the nearest exit.

“You haven’t even met them yet! They would be perfect for you!” Eponine protested, hooking her arm around his to stop him in his flight.

“I’m pretty sure this violate the Geneva convention,” Montparnasse grunted, fighting against her grip.

How dare she set him up like this! It was too early for him to deal with that kind of bullshit and she knew it! He should have known something was up when she texted him to meet at a café. Eponine was a bar person, not a café person. Jesus, why did every person in a relationship thought they had to “fix” single people into an item?

“Come on, what do you have to lose?”

“My time,” Montparnasse answered flatly.

Having a good enough hold on him, Eponine started dragging Montparnasse away from the exit back towards the main room. A reluctant cat on a leash would have been more cooperative. Oh, he could have escaped, if he had really put an effort into it. But what would have been the point? If he fled now, Eponine would find other sneaky ways to trick him into going on a date, sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now, once and for all. But he wouldn’t give in to her without putting up a fight first.

“Look at it this way: worst case scenario, you waste twenty little minutes. Best case scenario, you get laid. It’s honestly not that big of a deal.”

“I don’t need you to get laid,” Montparnasse groaned between his teeth.

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Imagine a long weekend with Chris. (Part D)

A/N: Part 5D filled with fluff as always. Epilogue is up next, and wow! Another chapter done and dusted, but fear not- there is still lots to come for these two cutie pies. ❤️ You can read the related mini-series and the previous parts here: (Mini-series - Masterlist; Mini-series Spin-off: ‘Unexpected Reader’ and ‘Little Ways Away’ - Masterlist; ‘She Said Yes: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5A/5B/5C’)

You stood side stage, smiling as you watched Chris, Anthony, and Sebastian interact with their fans. It was such a joy to be there observing the panel, yet another thing you’d always wanted to do but never thought you would have the chance to. Like befriending Chris, dating Chris, being engaged to Chris, and soon- marrying Chris. You were definitely a lucky one in seven billion; you were slowly checking off everything on your bucket list, both realistic and unrealistic goals. Your gaze refocused on your soon-to-be husband and your smile widened because it was because of him that you were getting everything you’d ever dreamed of.

He carried a love for you so strong, and had so much faith in you that he’d do anything for you. If your dream was to fly to the moon, he’d build a rocket ship and sit alongside you on the journey. He’d told you that a thousand times, and every time you’d believe him. His offer was always genuine, as was his love, faith, trust, and pride. You were a being unlike any other and you possessed a talent he knew would become a world wide phenomenon. It wouldn’t be long until you checked off ‘become a screenwriter’ and 'win an Oscar’, but that was Chris’ words and not yours. You were sure it was going to be ten years at least, considering you were still a student and being recognized as just Chris Evans’ fiancée. Now that wasn’t a bad thing to be recognized as, you were proud to be just Chris Evans’ fiancée; if that was all you could achieve in this lifetime, you’d be absolutely contented and at peace with yourself.

“Chris.” You tuned back into the panel when you heard Max- the host- mention Chris’ name. “I think we owe you a congratulations.” The whole crowd erupted in applause and cheers; both you and Chris immediately smiled, knowing exactly where it was going. “You’re engaged, man. That’s-” The applause and cheers increased in excitement and volume. “Yeah!” Max egged it on, clapping. You chuckled when you saw Anthony and Sebastian do the same, nudging a blushing Chris and patting him on the back. “Congratulations, dude. That is awesome news, we are so happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Chris chuckled into the microphone, dropping his gaze as he grinned to hide his obvious excitement. He may not have enjoyed talking about his relationships before, but with you- he wanted to tell the whole world about you. He was secretly glad Anthony blurted out his engagement news because he didn’t think he could, or wanted to keep it a secret until you graduated. Now as you stood watching him, and seeing how happy he was when they mentioned the engagement- you were glad the world knew too. “It’s exciting, yeah. I’m very, very excited.”

“For those who don’t know who Chris is engaged to, her name is Y/N Y/L/N. I had the pleasure of meeting her backstage,” Max said and Chris nodded, smiling as he threw a quick glance at you; you smiled and gave him a small wave. “And she is lovely, I genuinely enjoyed talking to her.” Chris’ smile widened because he had the same first impression when he met you at the airport. “She’s also very mature for her young age of twenty, I’d even say she’s more mature than you.”

“Max, buddy. You realize she’s watching this right?” Chris laughed, drawing laughter from the whole room. “Yeah, she is. She’s got a very old soul, she’s very old school type of girl. And I love it, it’s one of my favorite things about her.”

“Why’s that?” Max quizzed.

“I just feel like it allows us to have a similar mindset, of what we want in our relationship and in life in general. We don’t have a lot of big disagreements, we argue about stupid things like- who’s the better baseball team. God, I tell you- if she doesn’t ditch her Yankees cap soon,” he glanced over at you and you chuckled, tugging at said Yankees cap.

“The Yankees are the best team,” Sebastian piped up, earning a few cheers and jeers from the audience. “She’s keeping the hat, and I’m sending her a lifetime supply of Yankees merchandise as a wedding gift.” You and Chris laughed. “I’m not kidding, Chris. I will, so prepare yourself.”

“Whatever,” Chris chuckled then continued with his previous statement. “Anyway, as I was saying. It’s hard to find someone who wants the same thing, or just a long term thing in general. I feel like people, especially at her age, they just want something fun and casual. Which yeah, it’s great until you get to my age and find yourself still alone.” The crowd voiced their agreements. “We both agree that relationships these days are moving at a speed we’re not familiar with, or particularly fond of. With modern technology and the evolution that comes with each new generation, there’s a shift in the dynamics of what a relationship should be like. I- we both like to keep things- y'know, traditional. Get married, have kids- the works. It’s nice to meet someone who wants the same thing, it’s refreshing. She’s…” He looked over at you, smiling, “she’s just perfect and I love her.”

The whole crowd lost it at that, letting a wave of “awwww” cascade through the room. Chris grinned as he turned back to the supportive audience. It was nice to be able to share what he thought of you, and his love for you with other people. Yes, he was an incredibly private person who hated talking about his love life. But that was then, he was different now. Now he could’ve talked about you for hours with any fan, or at any interview. He could proudly and assertively tell the world that he was engaged to the most amazing and beautiful girl he’d ever met, as well as help them fall in-love with you as he had.

“Do you think she’ll join us on stage if we ask very nicely?” Max quizzed, and all four guys looked over at you with inviting grins; you shook your head at them with widened eyes. “If you don’t know who we’re looking at, we’re looking at Y/N who is standing side stage. What do you say, guys? Would you like to meet Captain America’s fiancé?”

You felt the butterflies in your stomach get trampled by a herd of elephants when you heard the crowd start cheering, and chanting your name. You shook your head at Chris, who was chuckling. He saw you start to turn and leave, and quickly jumped up and ran to grab you by the waist. He pulled your back into his front and whispered into you ear, “remember on the plane when you said, 'I’ll be there for you if things get too overwhelming’?” You winced, wishing you hadn’t said that; you knew when you said it it would bite you in the butt later. “Things are getting a little overwhelming out there and I’d love it if you joined me,” he told you as he spun you around and took your hand.

“Chris, I don’t want to go out there,” you steadied your stance, fighting against his pull. “Please don’t make me go out there.” You begged then chuckled softly when he did. “There are so many people out there, majority of them are fan girls who probably hate me for marrying their celebrity crush. I can’t go out there, they’re only being nice now because you’re here. I don’t want to say something or do something that will make them attack me when you’re not around.”

“Stop being so paranoid,” he laughed. “I’m always going to be here for you, Y/N. And it’s time you learn how to deal with big crowds, you’re going to have to do that when you enter the Hollywood industry.” You sighed because you knew he was right. “Come on, nothing you do or say will make them hate you. If their celebrity crush adores you then-” he smiled when he saw you smile, “you bet your cute little butt that they’re going to adore you too.”

“Don’t let go of my hand,” you ordered in a tone that told him you were going to join them on stage. Chris chuckled and nodded, entwining his fingers with yours. He walked, gently tugging you alongside him. “Oh my God,” you breathed when you walked into view; the crowd cheered. “I hate you so much.” You murmured to Chris without taking the nervous smile from your face.

“Give the love of my life a hand, everybody,” Chris instructed then kissed the side of your head as the crowd did as he asked. You chuckled softly, taking everything in before you lifted a hand to give the crowd a small wave. “Isn’t she absolutely beautiful?” Chris quizzed, then shared a love-sick smile with you.

Another wave of “awwww” cascaded around the room, which quickly turned into laughter when Anthony called out, “oh, get a room,” in a teasing tone. You and Chris turned to him, laughing softly. Both Anthony and Sebastian, as well as everyone in the room, fell in-love with the two of you. It was so obvious you were irrevocably and irretrievably in-love with the other, so much so that the hatred and the jealousy that some in the crowd possessed faded. Chris was meant to be with you, and you him; one could reject that notion, but there was simply no denying it.

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Epilogue

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 6

AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit. 

RATING: T

NOTES: Hello! Sorry for the slight delay, & I hope you enjoy this chapter. Also, I recently found an illustration that I adore, which seems to perfectly illustrate my story. Just thought I’d share it, hehe.

I woke up early the next morning feeling extraordinarily well in regards to my health. However, I had not gotten much sleep throughout the night.
I opened the curtains widely, and the initial hints of the rising sun cascaded into my room - illuminating the space with a rosy pink and orange light.

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Imagine #4- Bad Day

You came home, frustrated and tired after a long day at work. There’s was a few difficult people that you had to deal with and you just had enough of it.

“You okay babe?” Colby asked as you came in through the door.

“Just a bad day at work. It was awful. I got yelled at by my boss because of something another co-worker did and it was just a really bad day and I just need to relax.

“Awe. Well, if you need anything, i’ll be out here. Love you, get some rest.” Colby said.

“Okay. Thank you.” You said to him. He nodded with a sincere smile on his face. Colby knew that when you were tired, and needed to relax, that all you wanted to do was get some space and take a few breathers. He was respectful when times like that came up.

“Sleep!” You said as you plopped your whole body down on the mattress that you shared with Colby. You fell asleep within seconds and after a few hours you woke up. There was an orange-ish color cascading the whole room.

“What the hell is going on?” You asked yourself before sitting up and overlooking the entire room. “Colby! Babe!” You called for him. There was candles everywhere.

“In here!” He said. You walked towards his voice which led you into the bathroom. A rose petal bath was awaiting you. And there was a bonus: Colby would be in there with you.

“Babe! You didn’t!” You said as you stripped down to get into the bath water.

“Oh, but I did. And it will be worth every second.” He said. You tilted your head down a bit and then you gave him some seductive eyes. “Baby, oh, what you do to me with those eyes.” He continued.

“My eyes? Just wait until I get in.” You said as you got into the tub.

The rest of the night you were relaxed, and you fell asleep, feeling loved.

A Different Kind of Healing (Hound x reader)

Originally posted by iheartgot

“This is the final step.” Your mother wiped her hands on apron, turning to you with a somber expression. “You wanted to be a healer. So heal.”

You thrust a hand in the direction of your quarters. “My bed, mother? Where will I sleep?”

She pushed out a heavy sigh and shook her head. “Giving your bed to your first real patient injured symbolizes you putting the needs of others ahead of your own. As for where you’ll sleep,” She turned back to the medical supplies around her, “That’s for you to determine.”

Still reeling with anger you trudged from the infirmary. You’d been training into your adulthood for this. To be someone who could help others. When your mother left to join the Quiet Isle, so did you. You were well into marrying age, but the idea of nancing around in dresses without a clue to the suffering of others wasn’t you.

At the door to your room you took a deep breath and flattened your apron before going in. It was a well lit room, sun cascading every which way. Yet it stunk of rotten flesh.

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anonymous asked:

Hey! I love your writing! Are you ever going to continue the football AU thing? I loved it!!

Here it is!  Took a while, but this chapter is longer than the first, so hopefully that makes up for the wait <3


Eric bit his lip nervously, turning his phone over and over in his hand.  He looked down at the message he had typed out again.

Hey is it weird if i ask your opinion on my prom outfit?  It felt weird but he thought that could just be him.  After all, he and Philip had agreed to stay friends after Philip went away to college and they broke up.  They had even talked somewhat frequently over the semester, but about innocent things.  School, their old friends in town, what the weather out in California was like.  Neither of them had brought up moving on, but if they were actually going to be friends long term, it was going to have to happen eventually.  Eric hit Send.  It only took a couple minutes before the bubbles that indicated Philip typing showed up, followed shortly by a reply.

Eh, maybe a little but whatev.  I’m cool with it.

Thanks :)

Eric smoothed the front of the suit jacket one more time and took a deep breath before letting himself smile and snapping a picture in the dressing room mirror.  He attached it to a new message and said: Be brutal, if I wanted compliments I’d ask mama.  The next reply came after a few moments of consideration.

Tbh, that suit makes me want to take your virginity all over again.  Do the world a favor and get it.  Eric felt a pang of longing, remembering when he and Philip had gone to get their tuxes for Philip’s senior prom the year before and they’d ended up making out in the dressing room.  He still laughed though, imagining the exaggerated leer Philip would’ve given him if he was there.

Alright, I’m convinced.  You’re the best! :-*

Give Mama a hug for me! Xoxoxo

Will do! <3

Eric put his phone down on top of the pile of his clothes and stepped out from behind the curtain.  When Mama saw him, she pressed a hand to her chest.

“Oh Dicky, you look so handsome!”  He smiled and told her,

“Definitely this one.”

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Planes and Proposals

((A collaboration with @ask-aph-fruk I hope you like it! She’ll basically be illustrating this fic!))

A soft, gentle light gently cascaded into the living room with a sort of grace that only someone who was honestly cruel could hate. And even through his rather bitter and tough skin, Arthur wasn’t quite as cruel as that.

A sheet of silk was weaved tightly into a wooden embroidery circle as Arthur poked and pulled his needle with such precision as the Englishman was. The scene being stitched into the sheet of delicate fabric was a quaint, homey one that brought the thought of camping to his mind, with a large mountain bottomed by a bright blue lake with a shore of trees.

Arthur’s eyes did not faulter, even when he heard rushed footsteps racing down the stairs of his home.

“A-Angleterre,” Francis panted, and his chest heaved with the distress of trying to catch his breath. “I a-am sorry that I have to leave so soon from our visit here, but my boss has called me back to France on an emergency..”

Only now did Arthur’s eyes lift from his project. He would never really admit it, but he was slightly saddened by France’s words. However, with his pride, he shrugged off the rather silly emotion with a scoff. “Hmph. Very well then, it’s not like I expected anything more from you.”

The Frenchman straightened up his build, and looked at England. “It is not like I chose to do this, you know? I’m sorry, lapin, and I promise to make it to you somehow.”

“You can make it up to me by leaving.” Arthur rolled his eyes, and continued his work. Francis had to force down the grin that was rising in his throat, and he spoke.

“…I’m afraid you’ve forgotten that you’re my means of transportation when I’m here in London.”

Arthur paused, and let out a rather annoyed sigh as he stuck his needle twice through the tight fabric to keep it secure, and slipped the piece back into his threadbox. “Very well, then.” Arthur straightened out the few wrinkles in the pistachio-colored sweater he wore, standing up.

The car ride to the airport was rather silent, and Francis did his best to speak without smiling. Arthur simply drove, ignoring most of France’s comments, before arriving at the airport with him. “Have a nice trip.”

France’s face turned into a look of falsified sadness, and offence. “Aren’t you going to watch my plane take off, lapin?”

Arthur sighed, and let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel, before once again repeating his earlier statement; “Very well, then.”

The lobby of the airport was busy, as most airports were. Arthur sat on one of the couches after buying himself a bottle of water, and he watched France at the reception desk to recieve his tickets and be passed onto safety checks.

England sighed, now sitting in silence. He didn’t know why he was still sitting there, frankly. France wouldn’t notice if he left. But there was a feeling somewhere within his gut, that just told him to sit.

He soon found himself chatting with people. Some were annoyed, and some were emotional. He remembers one particular woman who simply sat and cried on his shoulder, despite his protest, because her son had departed to his new home in France.

After his short, yet somewhat dandy conversations with these strangely nosy strangers had ended, England was bored enough to watch the small security screen that showed the small tunnel in which people boarded the plane.

Though, something was different. Francis was walking backwards, and several people around him were carrying signs by their sides. On the outside of the tunnel, another camera followed France onto the asphalt of the landing strip, along with the sign holders.

Arthur watched curiously, as Francis stood in front of these people, as they lined up side by side behind him. The first lifted the sign. And then the second. And then the third. And finally, the last.

And the message was clear.

“Will you marry me?”

Every inch of England’s body was immediately thrown into paralysis, and he found his eyes tearing up a bit as he stared in awe at the screen. When he felt hands on his shoulders, he wiped the building tears furiously away, forcing his vision away from the screen.

He paced the lobby furiously as people congratulated him. But there was one question on Arthur’s mind; How would he give the other his answer?

The resolution came when he heard a familiar voice, and all at once, emotions flooded him one by one. He was angry, he was sad, he was shocked. But soon those emotions were bubbled over by elation, (with a sassy side of salty pride), and he simply nodded quickly in Francis’ direction.

Francis had accepted the small “Congrats!” or “Have a nice marriage!“s, from the strangers and staff in the lobby, on his way back out to Arthur’s car. And, boy, as soon as they were in the car, it was the waterworks.

Arthur leaned against Francis, sniffling and glaring up at him. "H-How dare you diminish me t-to tears in public..! You c-cheeky bastard..!”

France only laughed in response, and his fingers graced England’s hair. “You know, lapin, even if you had said no..”

Arthur looked up in curiousity, sniffling. “Mm..?”

Francis slowly grinned, looking down at him. “Your reaction was perfect~”

“Oh shut it! You’re a right pillock!” Arthur huffed, which lead to more laughter, and tickling, and kisses, and, thankfully, a happy marriage.

A happy marriage that blossomed from war and decay, into an airport induced proposal.