the second picture is what i went by the make the foolish this

They were a being with galaxies in their hair and constellations on their cheeks. Their five eyes shone, and not with happiness; they glowed, blazing too bright to look at until they closed their second eyelids.  They smiled often, but never with their teeth, and when they spoke with their mouth (a rare occasion) you could swear the inside was less mouth and more void. People called them Tzse; you did too, but in the private recesses of your mind you called them magnificent. You studied them, and they would have studied you if they weren’t so far above it all. You look at them and they look through you.

            You were lovestruck.

            Being in love with one of the Fair Folk almost always ended terribly, you knew; horror stories are whispered on moonless nights about the girl who had offered her beloved a kiss, and when she pulled back her mouth was gone. A boy who fell in love with a changeling and, upon realizing that that was what they were, went to great and terrible lengths to make sure they would stay. You don’t know how truthful these stories are, but you do know that on nights lit by a full moon, you can still hear the calls of spirits long gone, calling to loves long lost.

            This… this would be different. You were positive.

            Positive is a dangerous thing to be at Elsewhere. In a place where reality isn’t quite real, you can’t be positive about anything. But you were, and maybe that was your first mistake.

            You need to approach them. You need to find a way to do that so you would not be merely acknowledged by them, but get them to be as interested in you as you are with them. You need to ask them for a favor. Not just any favor would do, though. You need something unique, something that would draw attention.

            You know what to ask.

            Your heart is beating out the rhythm of your anxiety and you hands are fluttering as you approach them. Nobody is hanging around them, as per usual. Usually the only people that approach them are foolish people that study the Forbidden Major, desperate for a little more insight, a little more of an edge in their classes. Most of them disappeared within the day. The unlucky few that didn’t were never the same, with empty eyes and emptier thoughts.

            This would be different, you think again.

            Tzse looks at you as you approached them, a sudden twist of their head. Their second eyelids are closed, thankfully, but they are still a bit too bright to look directly at. You try to anyway, eyes watering, teeth clenched. This was the first time they’ve looked at you. You need to make a good first impression, or else all of your future interactions would be sour with embarrassment. There will be future interactions.

            A beat of silence. You realize they are waiting for you to speak, their bright gaze telling you to take your time, not because they are gracious or kind, but because time means nothing to a being like them. You swallow thickly before speaking up.

            “I have come to request a boon,” you say, voice shaking only slightly.

            Tzse’s head tilts ever so slightly to the left, their fifth eye’s pupil contracting into a thin line. After another beat of silence, you take that as cue to speak more.

            “I have- I have the essence of a creature long dead, trapped inside a tomb made of stone” You take the object out; a fist sized rock, relatively flat and ovular. Inside was the skull of a mouse; it was a fossil. You may not major in archeology, but fossils had always intrigued you. This one in particular was something of a good luck charm for you. “It holds sentimental value and 14 years of memories, and was my protection for the longest time.”

            That piques their interest. Their eyes flash a bit brighter for only a moment, and the stardust in their hair flurries a bit. From weeks and weeks of watching them make deals with other students, unmake the existence of some of them, you know their tells, their warning signs, their signals. You are prepared.

            Words suddenly appear in your mind, explosive and ancient. It’s not violent, or unwelcome. They had always been there, you think, even though you know they hadn’t. And for what are you asking in return, human-of-flesh-and-bone?

            You take a shaky breath.

            “I ask for the power to hold the stars.”

            Negotiating was tricky. Negotiating is always tricky, but that trickiness is amplified when you are talking to one you have fallen for. You explain terms and conditions, and they respond with pictures and colors and requests. You reach an agreement.

            Your stone-of-memories and your tome-of-life. Your fossil and biology textbook. You make sure to clarify that before sealing the deal; tricky wording can and will lead to an unfortunate end when it comes to the Fair Folk. Their expression doesn’t change and they don’t say a word, but you feel a vague sense of affirmation, so you take that as a yes.

            You hesitate for a moment; different Gentry have different ways of ending negotiations, and you aren’t entirely sure what this ones way of doing so was. You didn’t have to wait long; they float closer to you and hold out a gloved hand. A color unknown to human sight appears in your mind; give it to them. You hand over the fossil and book with shaking hands, and they hold them gingerly before placing them in an ancient looking leather rucksack. You stand there, waiting patiently (as if you could be doing anything else), for your side of the deal to be completed.

            You don’t have to wait long.

            They set their bag down softly. You can hear the rattling of skulls and rocks and shuffling of paper inside, and distantly you wonder what they have in there. Your thoughts don’t stay distant for long, however; as they float back to you, you can hear the blood in your veins and the music of your bones. They are right in front of you, and you realize that their body is the history of a galaxy, stars dying and being born, nebulae and black holes and endless impossibilities.

            A starry hand is on your shoulder, cold and hot and somehow solid. Your attention is drawn to the eye in the middle of the other four, round and bright and blazing. Their other hand is on the other shoulder, and they’re so tall, a solid foot above you, probably, how did you not notice before-

            Their nebulaeic lips are on your forehead, and whispers are planted in your mind. Your nervous system, your blood, your bones and organs and skin; they’re changing. Fire is planted in your lungs and ice in your liver. Your heart stops beating for a moment, and when it starts again the whispers tell you that your veins run silver with mercury and magic. The pain is excruciating, you wonder how this being, how any being could have this power at their disposal. You’re being torn apart, mere humans shouldn’t be exposed to this kind of magic, nobody should be exposed to this kind of magic-

And suddenly, it’s over. They’re gone, like they were never here at all. Maybe they weren’t. Reality is a fickle thing in Elsewhere, after all.

            The position of the sun (so, so dim, compared to the stars in Tzse’s eyes) tells you it’s almost time to go inside. Don’t stay out after dark, your roommate advised your first night at Elsewhere. His eyes were hollow and his voice was too, sending a chill down to your soul. You’ve heeded his advice, especially after the first time someone you knew disappeared.

            You grab your backpack with your new hands, and head to your dorms with your new legs. Your new mind is keeping you up with your new thoughts as you lay down in your old bed, and your new heart is beating too, too slow. You stay up for hours, sleep not coming as easy as you wished. You wonder if you will ever sleep easily again.

            Outside your window, five glowing eyes watch you. Outside your window, five glowing eyes study you. Outside your window, Tzse is floating, and a star on their left shoulder dies.


i was considering waiting until i was Totally Finished to submit this but my plan for this goes on for… a while… so i jst submitted th first part now and hopefully ill get Motivated to quickly continue!! if anything i write goes against canon pleasE tell me because i don’t want to mess up in future parts of this!!


I'm just saying, you could do better

gt;She took a deep breathe, downing the fiery light brown shot and shaking her head. Betty scrunched her nose as the warm liquid made its way down her throat.

Veronica squeezed her best friends shoulder and raised a brow as she shot back her own little glass. She had Betty’s back, she wasn’t going to let her get too drunk and make stupid mistakes all because she was upset. And man was she upset.

The beautiful blonde had stormed into her bedroom, red rimmed eyes and quivering lips as she declared they were going to Reggies party tonight and they were going to drink endless amounts of alcohol. Veronica just stared , fairly certain her eyes were deceiving her, the only indication that this was her best friend was the very Betty like please she had tacked onto the end of her rant.

Okay, if her girl needed to escape something she was gonna be there for her. She had a fairly good idea what was bothering the green eyed beauty anyway. It was the thing that was usually bothering her.

Her boyfriend of six months, Jughead Jones.

Speaking of Jughead, Betty pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, immediately pressing end when the silly picture of her typically moody boyfriend appeared on her screen. She couldn’t do this. Not now, not when the effects of the cinnamon fireball were hardly coming in to play.

It had all started this afternoon. Betty had been on her way out of cheerleading practice, when she saw him, or rather them.

Jughead was leaning against the locker room doors smirking at Ethel as she held onto his arm, showing him something on her phone. Obviously that wasn’t what had made her so upset, it was the lingering kiss Ethel had planted on his cheek that made her want to cry and also rip the shiny orange curls out of her once friends head all at once. To make matters worse Jughead didn’t look freaked out at all, he just slid his hand down Ethel’s arm and rolled his eyes, he finally spotted Betty and made his way over to her.

So she did what any mature, 17 year old girl would do.

She ran.

She ran so fast, her cheerleading skirt flipping behind her, his voice yelling out her name, as tears ran down her face. No. not again. She wasn’t second place. not.again.

She cried all the way to Veronica’s house, she had decided half way there she needed a drink. Or ten.

That brought her back to present day, grabbing a coors light from the six pack in front of her she followed Veronica over to the couch. The alcohol was finally settling in and she felt brave… and pissed.

Tipsy herself, Veronica shook a finger in her face

“I’m just saying B, he can’t do better than you. You oughta give him a call. Tell him how you really feel!”

Kevin was the most drunk of the three and he nodded

“Yes girl. Tell him exactly how you feel, tell him how you’re gonna find someone better tell him you’re gonna find someone cooooolll” he slurred

As foolish as this whole situation was, everything seemed to make sense to Betty and she set her shoulders back

“Ya know what? I think I will. I think I will call him.”

Pulling her cellphone out, she clicked on her first contact, God was he in for a storm.

He answered on the first ring, obviously shaken and relieved

“Betty? Thank god! Where are you? I’m at Archie’s, he said you didn’t even come home from school today! you haven’t answered any of my calls! And why the hell did you run away from me like that at school today?! why..”

Betty cut him off abruptly

“ I’m fine Jughead” she slurred slightly, accentuating every syllable in his name.

His end went quiet and he finally answered

“Are you drunk Elizabeth?” He whispered

She laughed cynically into her phone

“What’s it to you? I’m not drunk, I’m having fun! We can have fun can’t we? Ethel must be so fun right?”

“Ethel? What does she..” Jughead started

“It doesn’t matter, screw her!” She giggled loudly, slapping a hand over her mouth as Kevin and Veronica cracked up, nodding and encouraging her to go on. “Screw that new girl, she’s not crazy like me, I bet you like that. You can have her! I’m gonna go dance!”

“Betty, where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

She shook her head and laughed.

“No you’re not, you don’t care.” She pouted “Maybe you can do better than me Jughead, I’m just saying you can do better. I gotta go Reggie just brought out the keg.” She disconnected
The line. God that fireball worked quickly, she felt light on her feet as Kevin and Veronica dragged her to the middle of the room, joining the sweaty teens dancing.

She had been dancing for what felt like hours, when suddenly a very familiar pair of hands were on her waist, tugging her backwards and into a solid body. She couldn’t think clearly but she wasn’t drunk enough to let someone take advantage of her. She was getting ready to whip around when the smooth, velvety voice of her boyfriend dropped into her ear.

“Hey Juliet.”

She turned to see him smirking down at her, his hips moving with the music still clutching her waist. She was still angry but, god if this wasn’t the sexiest thing she had ever seen. Taking full advantage of the situation she began grinding into him, raising her arms to slip above his head and around his neck. He groaned audibly and she could feel how much he was enjoying this, the proof digging into her lower back.

Suddenly the music switched and the smooth voice of Drake filled the house, she turned her body around and slid her hands down his chest, her tiny fingers lingering and brushing on his zipper.

His eyes widened and his pupils were almost hiding the ocean blue, he let out a low growl and grabbed her hand, tugging her through the crown of people, and into what appeared to be Reggies parents room. As soon as the door slammed shut, he had her pushed up against the door, his hands all over her body as she hiked up a leg giving him better access to her sweet spot, she ran her fingers into his hair, tugging his mouth back up to hers almost painfully. He pulled back surprised, she was never this rough, she was always soft and gentle but this Betty? She didn’t need slow kisses and roaming hands, she needed it hard and rough and she needed it fast.

“Bed.” She growled through clenched teeth, her fingers moving to pull his shirt off, Jughead stopped her, holding her hands in his.

“Betty, you’re drunk. We don’t have to do this.” He placed a hand to her cheek but she quickly swatted it away

“I’m not drunk enough to not want this, I’m perfectly sobered up and I’m saying yes.” With that she shoved him on the bed and straddled him with a familiar ease. She vaguely remembered their first time, the awkward way he couldn’t find the hook to her bra, her trying awkwardly to help him out of his belt. They knew each other’s bodies back and forth now. Smiling slightly, she pulled off the tiny yellow tank top staring down at him as he watched her hungrily.

She dropped her mouth to his and he ran his hands over her smooth naked back, quickly unclipping the back of her bra, ripping off the unwanted barrier.

Things went fairly quick after that, they needed no warming up, as soon as he got her out of her skirt it was over. It was quick for both of them, passionate and hard. It was exactly what Betty wanted and what Jughead hadn’t known he needed.

Laying together after the fact, Jughead dropped a kiss to her head.

“Wanna tell me why you’re at reggie mantles house getting smashed?”

She sighed, stiffening again
“I saw you with Ethel, I saw her kiss you, you looked like you liked it. If you want her, I’m not gonna stand in the way. Maybe she’s what you need.”

He sat up at that, dragging her with him, she clutched the blanket to her chest as he grabbed at her face, “what on earth does that mean?”

She took a shaky breath averting his eyes
“I’m just saying, you could do better.”

She heard him chuckle, causing her to look up into his eyes hurt

“Betty Cooper you are absolutely crazy.”

Her jaw dropped and she tried to tug away

“Oh wow, thank you so..”
He dropped his lips to hers pulling her in for a kiss

“You’re my everything, I don’t want anyone else. Ever. I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, and if you think I would ever give you up, you’re absolutely nuts. Ethel is my friend and maybe she has a crush on me but I don’t care, she knows how much I love you, I don’t think you understand how much you mean to Me. There is no one better than you, I don’t want better when I already have the best.” He smiled that absolutely breathtaking smile and she sighed dropping her forehead to his

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just insecure. I love you too, so much, I don’t want to lose you. Ever.” She took a deep breathe before pulling away “hey how did you get here so fast, I just called you?”

His eyes widened
“Oh shit, Archie drove me in his dads truck, I told him I was just gonna grab you and head out. He’s probably out there waiting right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, gathering her clothes and handing them to her.

Betty laughed out loud

“Don’t worry, I’ll bet Ronnie found him, I highly doubt they’re missing us.”

Home Alone Tonight, Part 1

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Story Summary: Told from the POV of the reader, what happens when the reader and her ex are at the same bar and Finn Balor comes to the rescue.
Pairing: Finn Balor X OFC
Chapter Summary:  The night at the bar, laughter, selfies and drama later.
Note: Cursing. Mentions of cheating ex’s. 

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Hold Me Tight | one

Originally posted by kyungsuhos

genre: fluff/angst

word count: 10.5k


It was a normal day.

I was doing my job as his stylist, making sure that his clothes were the perfect fit for when he set foot on the red carpet. My job also included doing his makeup. Kyungsoo didn’t like having a lot of people around him so when they found me they were very pleased to find out about my makeup classes.

I was a recent University graduate student when they hired me. It was my first real job and I was so happy to have it. Can someone imagine how it would feel like to be doing your most desired job for one of the most famous actors in the country? It felt like a dream. I would be able to pay for my student loans and maybe have it a little bit easier.

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+masterlist +shine masterpost

parts; (onetwo)

summary: in which you fall in love with a prince that has already fallen for someone else.

word count: 1,538

warnings: very very very light swearing

author’s note: track the tag crowns ft calum for updates!!

“What do you think I should do when I get my girlfriend mad, princess?” Calum asked right after you sat across him, not even bothering to look away from his phone or greet you properly. You had to admit to yourself that you were offended that he didn’t ask about your day or how you were doing (and that sounded really petty), but at least Calum was talking to you.

“I don’t know,” You raised your eyebrow in amusement, examining the stressed boy before you. “What’s she mad about?”

“Apparently, people took pictures of us while we were on the balcony at your party,” He sighed, leaning back into the booth chair as he practically tossed his phone onto the table in blatant frustration. “She saw them, she threw a fit and I got the silent treatment,” Calum chuckled at the events that occurred a few hours ago, just moments after he woke up from his slumber.

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Like She’s Mine (part seven) - Stiles Stilinski

this is like.. part 6b lmao
warnings - swearing + mentions of sex + sorta shortish

“So tell me something y/n” Stiles mused.  I think that we’d successfully sat on the floor silently for twenty minutes.

“Okay” I said, picking up the baby monitor next to me and playing with it.  “Like what?”

“I don’t know I just want to talk” 

“Alright then um… tell me more about GWU I feel like I don’t know enough.  Got a special girl waiting around back there?” I asked with a short laugh.  He almost laughed, but I heard it die in his chest.

“No, no I don’t really have anyone there.  I pretty much just float around classes”

“No friends?” I asked, turning my head so my chin set on the edge of his shoulder.  He didn’t say anything, I just watched him as he looked down to the fingers he played with in his lap.

“Nah I prefer to just um… I just like the way I have things going now” 

“Yeah? And how’s that?” He turned to me, causing me to lift my chin off of him so his nose didn’t bump into mine.

“Get up, I have my own dorm you know, I usually check for notifications but if there aren’t any I get ready for the day and head to school.  I have morning classes but my mid afternoons are usually free.  Maybe another class around threeish..” He shrugged his shoulders.  “Then later I’d call or text with you before bed” I smiled at that, and he looked back at his fingers.

“How do you not talk to anyone throughout the day? You went there for a whole year-”

“No not anyone, I text you did I not just say that?” I linked my fingers around the monitor, shrugging weakly.

“I guess I mean I figured you’d talk to somebody” 


“Well… in a selfish way that’s good” I said.

“Oh?” Stiles raised a brow at me, and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Yeah I mean… now maybe you won’t find better attachments there and leave the rest of us behind” He turned to me again, staring intently at me.

“y/n- that- that’s ridiculous” His brows furrowed and I looked away again to avoid eye contact.  “Nothing’s… I’m not gonna- Nothing would ever make me want to leave you behind” I smiled for a moment, but then quickly changed my expression back to a neutral one.  “What?”


“That look, what’s that look for?” 

“I don’t know what you mean” I said shrugging it off and staring at the monitor some more.  I saw him lick his lips out of the corner of my eyes.


He was cut off by the baby monitor going haywire, screams and cries I heard through the radio and from just down the hall.  I sprung up, yanking away from Stiles and rushing towards Madison’s room.

“Do you need-”

“Thank you but no, I need to do this on my own she’s very- just stay there” I said, putting my hand up to Stiles as he’d begun to stand.  I entered Madi’s room, finding the girl crying on her back.  “No, no shh” I cooed as I walked over to her, lifting her in my arms.  “Come on, come on let’s look at the stars” I said in the happiest voice i could muster.  I carried her towards the window, showing her the view.  But her cries continued.  I winced as fat tears rolled down her red cheeks.  “Sh sh sh” I pointed out the window, and she turned to it.

The loudness of her crying, which I was grateful for.  But here and there she’d whimper of take shaky breaths.

“I’ll drop and speak a charm, take the weather from your heart” 

Now, I don’t know when I’d realized singing calmed her down, and god knows how I was good enough to make her relax but it it.  So it was something I stuck with when she’d throw her fits.

And the weight from your toes..” 

The melody was soft, and I sang it in a mere whisper as I bounced her just barely. 

Burn the bed and the dreams I’ve never met…”

Her eyes began to close and I smiled softly.  Slowly, I began making my way to her crib.

Those wishes were never for granted”

I laid her back down, breathing a soft sigh in relief as she stayed sound asleep, body calm again.  She did look like a little angel.  After assuring she was comfortable, I kissed her forehead one last time.

When I went back out to the living room, Stiles had his back to me, laying out a blanket on the sofa.  I just stood there, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Sorry we used to have another bed” I told him, and he turned to see me.  “If you want you could always just sleep in mine and I’ll stay out h-”

“No no, it’s fine” Stiles said, shaking it off.  “I don’t mind the couch.  You know it’s my prime napping place” I chuckled and nodded.  I was going to tell him an old story about how I’d always walk in on his naps.  But my eye caught something glittery on the table.

“Hey, we never opened your present” I said, walking over and reaching for it.

“That’s okay we can do it some other-”

“Oh no biggie” I didn’t even look at him as I pulled out the tissue paper.  I grinned as I pulled out a pink elephant, slightly bigger than Madi even is.

“Aww!” I held it and pet it, liking the softness of the stuffed animal.

“Yeah that just.. I don’t even know” He chuckled and I set it on the table, reaching in again.  I pulled out a couple of fuzzy blankets, which was greatly appreciated around here, you could never have enough really.  There was another box at the bottom that was wrapped up.  There was a neat pink ribbon tied in a bow.  I gave him a look as I pulled it out, and his features shifted to something I haven’t seen before.  “Th-that’s not- that’s not for Madi that’s actually for you” He said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “It’s actually your Christmas present… since we were apart this year so..”

“Oh Stiles you shouldn’t have gotten me anything, I didn’t-”

“I know, and I don’t want anything so don’t worry about it” I furrowed my brows but he waved his hand for me to open it.  I untied the ribbon and then pulled off the lid.  My eyes watered at the small collection of items inside.

A red blue and black strings of yarn, tied together to make a friendship bracelet I made him in the fourth grade.

A little plastic case holding a CD that had sharpie all over it.  It said STILES’ FIRE COLLEGE MIXTAPE and there was doodles and funny little drawings.  It made me chuckle.

A photo strip from an ice rink we went to a long time ago.  I teared up a little as I thought back to that day.  Hanging out with Scott and Allison and all of us taking the pictures together.  The first were just us smiling, the second was funny faces, the third we had our warms wrapped around each other, and the last one I’d surprised him and kissed his cheek.  His mouth was wide open in a surprised grin, and his eyes were big round caramel eyes staring at the camera while mine were fluttered shut as my lips were planted on his cheek.  This was sophomore year.  I didn’t know I loved him then, but now I know I did.

“y/n?” I looked up, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.  Then looked back into the last thing in the box.  A small gold bracelet.  There were links into a more rectangular looking piece, with cursive engraved in it.  y/n m/n l/n with an arrow it.  My fingers traced over it delicately as my eyes widened.

“Stiles…” I set it carefully on the table top as he smiled slightly.  It was just a lip twitch but it made me tear up all over again.  “It’s beautiful” I whispered, and he walked over to me.

“Well I’m glad you think so” He said softly.  I hugged him before he could see me cry.  His arms wrapped around my back.  “I have another gift too but uh.. I don’t want you to be mad” I cocked my head to the side, stepping back just slightly.

“Why would I be-”

“I’ve transferred to Beacon Hills community college for the next year” 

I froze.

“Don’t be mad, really I’m doing it for you- for Madi- I want to help-”

“Stiles..” I didn’t even know what the hell to say.

“It’s already done and in place.  I did it this afternoon” 

My chest heaved.

“y/n this year… it just… it sucked without you- without any of you” He caught himself.

My sharp breaths became audible.  But Stiles stepped forward and put his hands on my arms.

“But GWU it was your dream school..”

Was.  It was my dream school”

“So now basic community college is your dream school? Stiles stop just- you’re being ridiculous” I put my hands on my forehead, looking down and trying to collect my thoughts.

“If that means I can stay with you- guys- then yes” He stumbled again.

“Stiles do you hear yourself?” I hissed slightly, not wanting to raise my voice and wake up Madi again.  “You’ve been back for barely a day and suddenly-”

“Things have changed, y/n… but the things that have stayed the same I don’t want them to go away”

“Our friendship? Did our friendship go away when you were gone for the year?”

“No but now we can be closer again, don’t you want that?”

“Stiles…” My arms fell from my head and I grasped his hands in mine for a moment.  “Of course I do but, this just seems… it seems foolish”

“But y/n it’s more than that-”

“Then what is it?” I asked.  His mouth hung open for a moment, before he looked down and closed it.  After a long moment of silence, I realized I wasn’t getting the answer I was hoping for and I sighed softly.  “I just don’t want you throwing your life away the way I did, okay?” He didn’t say anything, so I released his hands and raised my palm to rest on his cheek, making him look at me.

“You didn’t, and I’m not” He said, voice weak and tired.  I gave him half a smile but I’m sure my eyes looked sad, seeing that my vision was still misty.

“Well… the decision was already made” I whispered and my hand moved slightly to fall, but his went over top of mine, keeping it set on his jaw.

“I’m not going to apologize to you y/n… this was solely my choice” I gave him a sad smile.

“I know” I said softly.  “I hope it won’t be a bad one”

“It won’t be” He responded, his lips upturned softly.  “Come here” He pulled me close again and hugged me.

“This is great, but if you hug me one more time today I might fall asleep on you” Stiles chuckled, and the vibrations in his chest reverberated against mine, giving me a nice sense of safety.

“That would be okay” He responded, and I patted his back slightly before stepping away for the last time.  I collected the gifts back into the bag as he made his way back to the couch.

“Goodnight Stiles” I practically whispered out, holding back on leaving the room completely.

“Goodnight y/n” He responded just as hushed.  I smiled slightly before I turned around and walked to my room.

I was up for another three hours trying to get to sleep.  I was scrolling through my social media, reading  a boring article on the gas prices when I realized I wasn’t paying attention to my phone screen whatsoever.

No, my mind was too plagued with thoughts of Stiles.

ha i actually posted part 7 like i said i would but oops but here it is ok im too tired to write an authors note sooooo give me feedback? or not, maybe you’d rather eat nutella straight out of the jar and cry bc you can never marry stiles stilinski like i am rn.  whatever makes your goat float in a boat while he boasts about his friend ghost.

yikes im exhausted…

tagged: @morganschiebel @bunnyboo10154 @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday and @johnsonxstilinski and @celestial-writing even tho shes being mean to me rn but i still love her ;)

todays lesson for u kidz is: don’t drop out of college! (even tho stiles didn’t really ‘drop out’ but still a good message)

xoxo~ jordie

I have no idea what possessed me to write this, I apologize.

“Stop giggling,” Liam huffed out, trying to stifle his own laugh.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Zayn countered, still laughing, his tongue pressed behind his teeth, cheeks rising, laugh lines across his face.

“Come on Zed, let me take your photo,” he tried to convince his boyfriend for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last few minutes.

“You have enough pictures of me,” Zayn said, swatting Liam’s hands away as he started to make a grabbing gesture. “There’s enough pictures of me on the internet and this house.”

“Your Versace pictures deserve better,” Liam replied, dropping his hands and getting serious. “We’re supposed to believe someone who loved you took those photos. Please, my nan could’ve done better. Let me do it. You still have the clothes and I have wicked skills on my iPhone. Add a seductive filter or something.”

Zayn sighed and leaned his head against the back of the couch he was currently sitting on. The Versace photos were a tad abysmal, he looked great which was always a plus. But, the photos didn’t show off him or the clothes properly. His people and Versace didn’t seem to care, as long as they got a cut of the profits. It had bothered him for some time now, this was supposed to be a huge fashion campaign and it was being treated like a child showcasing their hobby. Newsflash, the child needed to find a new hobby. For the last ten minutes Liam was now trying to convince him to have their own fashion shoot, mostly to just cheer Zayn up.

“Please,” Liam begged, pushing out his bottom lip in an adorable pout that always got to Zayn.

Zayn lazily traced Liam’s bottom lip with his thumb, humming when Liam grazed the digit with his teeth. “Fi-fine.”

Liam immediately beamed with excitement, jumping off the couch. “I love you. You won’t regret this.”

Ten minutes later Zayn was standing in one of their numerous closets, pulling out the specific clothes he wore for the Versus campaign. Liam was doing something outside in the garden, only telling Zayn to hurry up before they lost the daylight. Zayn undressed in the middle of the room, pulling on a pair of black jeans and a leather coat. Liam wanted to be as authentic as possible, copying each look Zayn wore in the campaign photos. After he was properly dressed he checked out his hair quickly in the mirror, letting it out of the tie he had holding it together on the top of his head. He shook his head to let the hair fall where it pleased and walked towards their garden. Once outside he just observed Liam who was running back and forth setting things up, Watson running right behind him thinking it was a game. A boisterous laugh leaving Zayn’s mouth alerted Liam to his presence.

“Beautiful,” Liam declared after getting a good look at Zayn. “Let me get this terror back inside and we’ll begin. Stand by the tree and I’ll be right with you babe.”

Liam dragged Watson back into the home by his collar as he whined the entire time, disappointed that play time was already over. He made sure the door was closed securely to make sure none of their other dogs decided to crash the party. He walked to where Zayn stood by the tree and adjusted the jacket he was wearing, not saying a word. He kneeled down to adjust the jeans and smiled up at Zayn, wiggling his eyebrows as seductively as possible. Zayn just shook his head and laughed, he was dating a toddler stuck in a grown mans body, but he loved him anyway. Liam stood back up and slowly walked backwards, taking his iPhone out of his back pocket. He pressed a few button on his phone, just nodding his head the entire time.

“Okay, just act natural,” Liam instructed.

“Cause this is natural,” Zayn scoffed. “An impromptu photo shoot in me garden.”

“Quiet on set!” Liam barked out his direction. “We’re gonna lose the sun if you don’t pipe down.”

With another shake of his head Zayn got silent and just let Liam shoot away, only moving when instructed. He knew never to interrupt when Liam got into his creative zone. He trusted him, trusted that he wasn’t going to make him look foolish. Zayn knew that the photos were going to showcase him in a way he’d want. After twenty minutes in front of the tree he was told to put on a shirt and go into the bedroom for their next location. Once he was changed again he walked into their room as Liam was fixing the blinds, making the room as dark as possible. He had no idea what Liam’s plans were but he just went with it. Liam instructed him to lay on the bed, leaning up on just one elbow. Like before, Zayn just went with whatever Liam told him to do because he trusted him and his odd vision. After a few shots were takien as he leaned on his elbow he was told to move up towards the headboard to capture a more relaxed feeling. Whatever.

“Are these even coming out okay?” Zayn finally asked once they wrapped their second set of shots.

“Babe, you’re doing amazing,” Liam told him honestly, cradling his cheek in his palm. “They should’ve used me for the shoot. Now go put on the white outfit and meet me in the bathroom.”

Zayn sighed and shook his head once more. “You’re relentless.”

“Love you too,” he replied. “Now hurry.”

The last shoot lasted another fifteen minutes with Liam having Zayn sit in the tub as he took the photos. It was all a tad bizarre but hopefully Liam knew what he was doing and what his vision for this whole nonsense shoot was. After the shoot was completed Liam wouldn’t let Zayn see the photos until he was changed and back in their bedroom. Liam grabbed his laptop and his USB port and sat on the bed, working his magic and waiting for Zayn to change. Once Zayn got back in the room Liam was still silent, clicking away on his computer.

“Done?” Zayn asked, crawling into the bed.

“Shh,” Liam silenced him, never looking up from the screen in front of him. “Almost.”

“So secretive,” Zayn joked, trying to look over Liam’s shoulder at the laptop, but he just kept moving it away from prying eyes.

“Patience love.”

Zayn sighed indignantly as he waited, even though he really had no idea what he was really waiting for, but Liam told him to wait. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and played a game or two of solitaire, losing each time, to take his mind off the wait. Liam kept tapping away at his keyboard, clicking the mouse a few times to probably seem busier than he actually was. It was slowly driving Zayn crazy. He wanted to know what Liam was doing, especially with some of the more seductive photos he took on the bed and in the tub. Those pictures were not allowed to leave this home and no one else but the two of them were allowed to see them. He could just imagine the joke Louis would make at his expense if he saw them. Like Louis hadn’t done something similar with Harry after he cut his hair recently.

“Done,” Liam declared proudly, shifting his laptop over from his lap to the empty spot between them.

“Li-Liam,” Zayn gasped in awe. He looked between the laptop and Liam a few times, making sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. The photos looks incredible, especially after Liam used his impressive photoshop skills. They looked way more professional that his supposed professional ones. He didn’t look foolish, he looked like a proper high fashion model. “Wow.”

“You like them?” Liam asked timidly, his top teeth chewing at his bottom lip. “I-I tried to make them look as professional as an iPhone can make them.”

“These are amazing,” he spoke in a hushed voice, his fingers ghosting over the screen. Touching to make sure it was really real, that he wasn’t imaging what was right in front of him. “They look, they look beautiful.”

“The photographer loves you,” Liam argued, smiling his wide smile. “Thinking about sending them anonymously to Versace, show them how good you truly are in front of the camera.”

“Don’t you dare,” he snorted, playfully hitting Liam’s arm.

“Fine,” Liam gave him. “Maybe I’ll make these our Christmas cards, send them out to our friends and family. Our mum’s would get a kick outta them.”

“Sure Liam,” he pacified him, knowing never to rile Liam up when he went on one of his many tangents, not matter where the tangent took him. “And the more provocative shots? Where are those going?”

“I’m blowing them up and putting them around the house,” he teased, laughing as Zayn’s eyes grew wider in shock and horror.


“I’m not kidding,” he replied, clicking the mouse to show Zayn the photos. “Babe, can you imagine them around the house? Over the bed? Maybe the tub?”

“I’m not going to win this fight,” he gave in with a sharp exhale. “You’re lucky I love you Liam James Payne.”

“I know,” he laughed gladly accepting a kiss from the love of his life and his lifelong muse in all things creative.

Until Hell Freezes Over (M)

» prince!yixing, 10.6k, can i request smut w/ the reader and either junmyeon or yixing?

warning: smut (pretty vanilla), mentions of death, violence, torture, medieval concepts, witchcraft, pagan ideas and a bunch of other things but 

part of the royal!exo au series

Zhang Yixing is a commander. He has worked his way up to the top by sheer force of will; hard work, perseverance and dedication. To his country, to his job and to his people, Zhang Yixing gives everything – apart from one thing. There is one person that will only have him, and that person will have him forever.

Originally posted by katherine8595

Keep reading

War series installment-NewtxReader

A/N: Here we are, my loves. I loved writing this, seriously. I live for war romances. ❤️

For those wanting to catch up go: Here

~War series~

Weeks had gone by since Newt arrived at the medic center, and everyday that flew by just brought you both closer together. He had slowly opened up, speaking of his family, his school days, and his interest in creatures. Though, when you pressed him for more details about them he seemed to leave out quite a bit. You couldn’t understand why, of all things to hide, animal knowledge seemed quite tame. But, you stopped bugging him about it, and instead enjoyed the conversations you both had during your breaks.

“Dear god, I’ve gone and trapped myself again, haven’t I?”

The soldier chuckled at your words, looking over the board at you as he debated his next move. You both knew he was going to win, as he always did, but you’d like to think you’ve gotten better at it. Playing chess with him was something that made the times easier, and it was a good distraction for the both of you.


Newt reached over, grabbing his piece and slowly drawing it forward, his fingers slipping over your own as he stopped on your side of the board. At his soft touch you looked up, meeting his beautiful green eyes as he stared at you. It felt like forever, just the two of you glancing at each other, as if the conversation was still going on in your head’s. But, as time ticked by he finally smiled, letting his fingers purposely slide against yours in a slow manner before he knocked your chess piece down.


You laughed joyfully at his victorious smile, and you clapped your hands together as you admitted defeat.

“I do believe I’ve lost every match, Mr. Scamander.”

“There’s always next time, Y/N.”

He settled back into his seat, clearly enjoying your company. He had grown accustomed to your presence every day, and whenever you were absent he found himself completely lost on what to do. It was frightening at times for him, because out there in the trenches, there wasn’t much time to worry about anything but staying alive. And now…now he found himself aching for the company of his nurse, and when you weren’t around he laid in bed, trying not to lose his mind.

“Oh, it’s time to prepare meals. I’ll be a moment.”

You glanced up at the clock, panic setting in when you realized you were behind your schedule. Time always went by fast when in Newt’s company, but neglecting your duties to the other soldiers wasn’t acceptable.


Newt reached for your hand, grabbing it gently as he looked up at you. He wasn’t even sure why he did that, but his mind told him to stop you, to try and keep you near because it was a rare comfort for him.

He didn’t say anything else, but you could tell by the look in his eyes what he wanted. You smiled, giving his hand a soft squeeze before letting it go and apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back shortly. I promise.”

The soldier just released you, watching you go down the hall, his heart already beginning to ache from the loneliness.

“Merlin’s beard…”

He rubbed his face, trying to regain whatever dignity he felt he lost just then. Yet, he couldn’t deny what he felt, seeing you leave was something that set many alarms off in his head, and he wanted to jump out of his chair and go after you. But, he resigned himself to writing instead, hoping somehow this would quell the ache inside.


“Alright, soldier, I have your lun-”

You stopped just at his bed, frowning when you saw him hunched over his desk, quill moving quickly across the parchment. He took one glance at you, then hid the letter under a book, smiling to try and defuse the situation.

“You’re back.”

With a disappointed look, you set his tray down on the edge of the bed, taking a seat next to it as you stirred his soup.

“Mr. Scamander, we’ve know one another for a long time now, you don’t need to hide such things from me.”

The corner of his lips turned up into a grin, and he played with the end of his quill as he spoke truthfully to you.

“It’s not what you think.”

“And what do I think?”

You knew though, what he meant. That somehow he started writing to that girl, Leta, again. It had been a good while since you saw him pen that name, and you had just assumed perhaps that woman had left him. That she grew tired of waiting back home for a man who wouldn’t likely come back anytime soon. And yet, the same conclusion always came back. How could anyone be foolish enough to leave a man like Newt? He was entirely too perfect for words sometimes, and he held a kindness in his eyes you hadn’t seen in any man for quite some time.

Newt leaned forward in his chair, placing a hand over your thigh as he traced the patterns on your dress.

“This isn’t a nurses outfit.”

“My other one was covered in-….well, this was the only thing I could find.”

Newt trailed his eyes along your clothing, taking in all the details. He wanted to etch a perfect picture in his mind of you, something to keep him sane during the lonely nights he was likely to experience once again.

“Mr. Scamander-”


You smiled weakly at him, letting go of the spoon and cupping his cheek instead. “Don’t change the subject.”

He chuckled, sinking back into his chair as he ran a hand through his clean cut hair.

“As I said, it’s not what you think.”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

Before he could respond, the hospital director came rushing down the hall, waving you over in a panic.

“Y/N! New injured, come on!”

She ran back down the other way, her hair a mess, and clothing completely drenched in sweat and blood. Your heart began to race, and you rose without a second thought, leaving Newt once again.


“Yes, Sir.”

“Then you have your orders, Scamander. I suggest you ready yourself immediately. You’re being thrown into the eastern front.”

Newt saluted to his superior, standing at attention until the man sauntered back down the hall. He felt that familiar dread fill him, and as he looked down at the uniform set neatly on his bed he thought of you and only of you.


You turned the corner of the medical unit, sweat dripping down your brow as exhaustion began to overtake you. But, you weren’t quite done yet, there was still a few hours left in the day, and at least one of them could be spent with Newt.

As you walked down the hallway, smoothing out your smock, you glanced up stopping dead in your tracks when you came face to face with the very soldier you meant to see. Newt stood at his desk, placing his hat on his head, his eyes now meeting your own tear filled ones.

He offered you a sincere smile, and it was that moment that you understood how badly you wanted him to stay here, to never leave and be safe right next to you. You couldn’t help him out there, if he got injured, there was absolutely nothing you could possibly do to make it better, and that thought frightened you.

He grabbed the letter from his desk, and with a brisk pace he moved towards you, his boots scuffing across the ground.


“You’re leaving…”

You choked back your sobs, a painful tightening feeling developing in your chest as you did. But, crying wasn’t going to solve anything, and if this would be the last time you see him…well, you needed to be braver for him.

Newt nodded down at you, trying to remain positive as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Eastern front.”

You looked up at him, lifting a hand towards his face but at the last minute you lost all your resolve and you simply laid it against his jacket. You traced the metal of his many pins, trying to distract yourself from the idea of losing him.

“Mr. Scamander…”


He brought his hand up, holding it over your own that was clutching tightly to him, and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, trying to offer some comfort. But, there wasn’t much else he could do now. He would be leaving tonight, that much was certain, no matter how desperately he wanted to stay with you.


His name escaped your lips in a broken cry, and you walked forward, laying your forehead against his strong chest. His warmth enveloped you, creating a sensation that managed to bring you ease for once. It took all your strength not to break down and cry, to hold him and beg him to stay, but when he slowly wrapped an arm around you, that was it.


Newt sighed deeply, resting his chin atop your head as he took you into his arms. This contact was foreign to him, at least as far as he could remember. He hadn’t been this close to anyone in years, and just the feeling of your body clinging to him was enough to make him grit his teeth and fight back the tears that threatened to fall.

“I’m so sorry.”

He pulled back from you, smiling as best he could under the circumstances. He fished through his jacket, pulling out the letter and placing it into your hands.

“Please make sure that reaches her. It’s important.”

Despite your emotions, you simply nodded, wanting to give him some hope even if it was sending out a letter to another woman that seemed to have his full affections.

Newt let out a soft chuckle, wiping a few of your tears away before leaning down and kissing your cheek. His lips lingered there for a moment, but whatever he was thinking he decided against it.

“Don’t read it.”

Even through all your blushing, you looked up at his handsome face, wondering why he’d say such a thing. It’s not like you ever peered into his other letters, you always took them to the post, and that was it. But, when you noticed the grin on his features, something told you he wanted you to do the exact opposite.


He walked passed you, turning one last time with a small smile before heading towards the many other soldiers ready to be shipped out once again. Your eyes never left his back, and you stood silent there in the hall until he was just a memory again. Hopelessness filled your mind, and you sank back into his bed, feeling like your whole world was swept from under you. You traced the wax seal on his letter, and when you turned it over your eyes widened.

There, in his handwriting, was your name. Not Theseus, not Leta, yours. With the quickest of movements, you broke the seal, and hastily opened the parchment.

“Ms. Y/N,

I do believe I’ve grown quite fond of you over these weeks, perhaps even more than I care to admit…words cannot express my gratitude for your most gracious care. So, allow me to just say, thank you.

If I had not bore witness to your pretty face every morning, with a tray of awful food in hand, I might’ve very well lost my mind.

Even now, you think this letter to be for another, my apologies for hiding it. I assure you, this woman you believe to be my sweetheart couldn’t be any less so…I really can’t say much of her now days. People change…I’ve changed.

I owe that to you. To you, who has given me the strength to continue, and to have something…someone, to return to once this war is over. If you’ll have me…

May we meet again, under far better circumstances.

Newt Scamander

P.S. Do practice your chess, you’re quite awful at it.”


Please do give feedback if you can!!!! ❤️

Originally posted by inspirationoutlet

Originally posted by theavengers

anonymous asked:

That ask about Ryou going searching for Shiro made me think of something: Imagine Shiro and the other paladins seeing a broadcast about a special arena match featuring the return of the Champion and Shiro's heart just stopping when he see's a terrified looking Ryou on the screen.

welp.  You’ve done it now, nonnie.

“Shiro, could you come to the bridge please?”

The princess’ voice over the com and Shiro looked up from where he was working on training the rest of the team on hand-to-hand.  Lance took a pot shot at him with an elbow and Shiro, smiling a little, caught it in his palm without turning his head to look, peripheral vision easily catching the telegraphed move.

“Good job, Lance.  Always take the opening when you see it.”  He straightened and the rest of the team, looking relieved, and, in Hunk’s case, a little less scared, straightened as well.  “Be right there, princess.  All right team, take five. Then try out your new move on each other.  Gently.”

“That was her ‘uh oh’ tone,” Pidge observed, moving over to get her glasses.  Shiro didn’t comment on it because - well, Pidge was right.  Allura’s voice somehow got stiffer and even more enunciated and ‘proper’ when she was concerned about something.

“Uh oh voice?” Lance was suddenly interested - and giving Shiro the woolly eyeball.  Starting to grin.  “You’re in trouble,” he singsonged.  Shiro ran a towel over the back of his neck and debated getting back into his uniform.  He didn’t feel right coming into a situation, especially on the bridge and with Allura no less, out of uniform but he’d just get it dirty in his current state if he did and he didn’t think that tone of voice offered time for a shower and making himself presentable.   He accepted the water packet Hunk passed him with a smile and shook his head.

“Just keep up with your training.  I’ll be back to check on you once I get the chance.”

Lance gave him a salute - which he assumed meant the team was going to rest for at least ten minutes instead of five once he was out the door but he wasn’t going to call them on it.  They had been working hard.  Keith however fell into step next to him.  Shiro arched an eyebrow at him but Keith just scowled and kept pace with him for the door.  Keith had always stuck close but since the run in with Haggar and the crash landing on the planet with the space lizards, there was a definite shift in the way he - it wasn’t hovering but it certainly had a more protective feel to it.  Shiro appreciated it - and knew he was going to have to get it to stop.  Keith had other things he needed to concentrate on.  Just - not yet.  Whatever Allura wanted, Shiro didn’t have a problem with Keith hearing it too.  If anything happened to him, he wanted Keith to lead and that started with being part of making planes.

“What?  How come Keith gets to go?  Allura didn’t use her ‘uh oh’ voice on him.”

Which, Shiro suspected meant Lance was looking for a way out of more training but he shrugged.  It wasn’t as if they were keeping secrets about anything.

“Well, come on.”

Pidge and Hunk took one look at each other and scrambled to their feet as well, falling into quick step behind a trotting Lance.

Looked like Allura was getting the whole crew after all.

Not that she seemed particularly bothered by it, beyond a raised set of thin eyebrows when they all walked onto the bridge shortly after her call.  The main vid screen was up, trailing alien lettering across it like a marque sign.  A vicious looking face, something that looked like a bad mug shot, flared to life and somewhere in the back of Shiro’s mind, something went very cold.  His stomach rolled, nauseated without reason, and the next picture that flashed by was of the same alien, armed with dual knives the size of bastard swords in the middle of a fight, a frozen second of time in a death struggle that Shiro recognized the way a sick fever that had settled into the bones was recognizable each time it surfaced.  He averted his eyes from the screen and forced all his concentration on the princess.  Who was watching him with the tight lines of worry about her eyes.

“What’s going on?”  His voice at least stayed steady but he saw the way the other paladin’s craned their necks to see what was still flashing across the screen and he knew they were putting the math together and realizing what that was - and what it meant to him.  He refused to look at them.

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” still clipped but softer and he both appreciated that and registered that anything that started off with an apology was probably going to be uncomfortable, at the least, for him.  He unconsciously squared his already set shoulders and met her eyes.  He could do this.  He was the Black Paladin.  And he was the squad leader.  Everything else came second place to that.  Whatever Allura say she took it as her sign to continue.

“As you know, we had a constant monitor running on all the news sources we can access.  Both for any hints that will help us with assigning new targets and to keep an ear out for any news involving Voltron.  We programed in quite a few words that will immediately flag if they come up.”  She gave him another look, part apologetic, part ‘don’t ask me to apologize it was necessary’.  “One of those words is Champion.”

The sick feeling intensified, curling rotten in his gut, coiling up the back of his spine and wrapping around the base of it.  The fever dream feeling moved through the back of his brain, always there, just a little less dormant now.  He kept his jaw looked and his eyes straight ahead on her and he didn’t miss the way Keith stepped to his side and just a little behind him or the way the rest of the team went silent.  Coran interrupted.

“As you know, we run hundreds of words through the system every tic, sorting through the news and trying to find useful tips.  Most of its rubbish of course.  That and a few catchy song lyrics really.”  The brief distraction lost to his usual enthusiasm.  “But every now and then we get a useful hit!  Loose lips ground star ships and all that.”

“Right,” Allura took over again.  “We got a pip just a few moments ago.  It appears one of the more affluent planets is hosting a Gladiator event.”  Her tone made her opinion obvious as only Allura could.  Her eyes met his and her voice went gentler.  Almost apologetic again.  “Shiro, I thought you should see this.”

His common sense was screaming at him not to look.  That he already knew what the fighter scrolls looked like, that it would cause a flashback, that his team didn’t need to see him fall apart again - but if the princess thought it was important than he trusted her judgement.  Eyes narrowing a little, bracing himself, he turned to look at the screen. 

“They’re hailing it as quite the event.”  She paused, just for a second.  “And the core game is for the return of the Champion to the fight ring.”

The picture flashed up on the screen.  Dark close cut hair except for the longer fringe in the front, stormy grey eyes, a lean square face.  Shiro went completely still.  The universe stopped, in that split second, just before it crashed like broken glass into sand and something, small and foolish, thought - if he would just not move, maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t either and this wouldn’t be real.  Lance made a surprised noise.  And, surprisingly, it was Hunk that spoke, voice cracking a little, in surprise and hurt.

“Instructor Ryou?”

The ‘mug shot’ was a little out of focus and the man in it looked a bit worse for the wear, bruised and hollow cheeked, lip split.  But it was the eyes that tore the heart right out of Shiro.  The wide, scared, lost looking, unprepared eyes.

“Who?” Lance wanted to know as Pidge made a small squeaking noise and said:

“I didn’t realize they were identical.”

The next still was of the same man, the man that looked so much like a younger Shiro from only a year ago, teeth bared, pure fury and anger across his face, features splashed with something dark and teeth bared in a snarl as he lunged at something much bigger than him bare handed.

“It’s his brother.  Shiro’s twin brother.”  Keith was explaining but it was all buzzing in Shiro’s ears, somewhere distant and hollow.  He could taste metal in his mouth, tinny and foreign.

“He’s supposed to be on Earth though,” Keith’s voice was still going.  “He shouldn’t be out here.”

Safe on Earth.

Anywhere but here.

“Suit up, team.”  Shiro’s voice was flat and deathly calm.  He was already heading for his compartment, stride intent and irrevocable.  “We’ve got a fight to stop.”

part 2

anonymous asked:

For the send me a ship and I'll tell you thing. Can you do Lafferson? 'Lafayette X Jefferson'

Sorry this took so long, I have a few more. Also great ship, I for one can ship just about anything (within moral reason) so this was a lot of fun ^^ I didn’t expect to get this one so thanks!

  • Who said “I love you” first (Laf)

“Your French is truly amazing.” Lafayette smiled, watching his dearest ‘friend’ write in perfect grammar. “I am grateful you are willing to do the translations for me.” He motioned to his snapped wrist. Lafayette might have been the sweeter of the set of rambunctious boys but he was still part of the team. He was just as scrappy as the lot of Hamilton’s little crew. Something Thomas wasn’t terribly fond of. Thomas had made friends with Laf on an educational level, on a work level. He saw the professional Lafayette was. Which applied to Thomas’s more delicate lifestyle.

“Honestly you should reconsider your friendships.” Thomas spoke, his teeth clenched tightly as he finished the rest of Lafayette’s work. Not only copying his handwriting but being fluent in French, why was he doing this man a favor? He could have been home doing…nothing. Which was probably why he was doing this. No other reason. “Hamilton and his bumbling band of idiots are going to get you hurt. And I don’t say this to anyone, but you have a lot more potential than the lot of them.”

The jealousy rolled off Thomas like steam from a hot shower. Lafayette wasn’t blind, he knew Thomas would rather the Frenchman spend his days with him instead. Laf enjoyed his friends but…that was not to say he wasn’t growing fond of the tall, softer man’s presence. With his good wrist he ran his fingers through Thomas’s fro, his fingers toying with a particularly full curl. “Oh Thomas, if you want to spend more time with me just say so.” He purred watching Jefferson’s eyes go wide with embarrassment.

“Why I never said that–” he began to ramble fast, nervously over reasons why he wouldn’t want to spend time with Lafayette. All of which were terrible lies and excuses. Laf could feel the heat of his blush on his frantically nerve wrecked face. Slowly Laf brought a finger to Thomas’s lips and gave him a soft smile.

“Thomas please, no need to hide it. I’d love to spend more time with you, I’m afraid I’m rather…well..” Lafayette paused for a second and nodded, “I think I may love you, mon amie”

  • Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background (Both but Laf is a little less extra about it)

“Say Tom, can I borrow your laptop?” Madison called out from the living room.
“Sure whatever.” Thomas was in the kitchen, probably heating up some left over mac and cheese. Madison opened the laptop, needing to check his email for a second when he paused. Thomas joined his best friend in his living room when he realized Madison was just staring at his laptop.

“What?” He looked and smirked, there was a slideshow of pictures playing as the background of his laptop. All of which were Lafayette. Images of him standing there, smiling, some selfies. The slide show was moving at a pace of 5 second intervals. “My boyfriend is hot, so I have his picture as my background, sue me.”

Madison wouldn’t comment it was a bit much. He closed the laptop and decided against using Thomas’s computer. He didn’t want to know what else he had of Lafayette on his device.

“Oh Jemmy can you pass me my phone?” Thomas pointed to his cell phone closer to Madison’s side of the couch. Like a good friend, James took the phone and went to hand it over. His grip must have set off the phone, for it flashed and the lock screen picture nearly blinded him. James dully tossed the phone at Thomas. “What?” He looked down and blushed, “it’s a good photo.” He purred, looking down at the image of Lafayette sprawled over his couch, naked with only a blanket covering his loins. Thomas did enjoy his French lover.

  • Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror (Laf)

“Holy, shit, Laf are you done?” Thomas groaned, “we’re going to be late for our date.” Thomas grumbled. Sooner than not, the door opened and Lafayette walked out, his hair similarly curled like Thomas’s was wild. Thomas looked up at him and blushed a bit. “Finally.” He pushed passed his post showered boyfriend and walked into the sauna that was their bathroom now. Honestly Thomas could not understand what kept Lafayette in here for so long. Only time Thomas took the longest was when he needed to wash his hair. Both men took a lot of pride in their curls, more Thomas than Laf since he enjoyed to wear it out. His eyes went to the large vanity mirror which had lovely script writting all over it. Thomas blushed reading the message Lafayette had left him.

‘Mon ange, mon amour, mon adorable oiseau— mon Thomas’

Thomas didn’t have the heart to call him out for being sappy. He grabbed his phone and took a picture of the fogged message. He would make sure to return the sugar later tonight.

  • Who buys the other cheesy gifts (Laf)

“Tomas! Tomas! Look what I bought for you.” Lafayette bounded over holding bags upon bags of gifts. Thomas was wealthy and didn’t mind to shop, on the other hand Lafayette burned through money like he was made of it which these days he was not. “You’ll love it.”

“Laf, you don’t have to buy me gifts, we’re dating now.” He chuckled, the gifts Lafayette showered him in always made him feel like he was being bought. It wasn’t a terrible feeling but remotely unneeded since Thomas was not with Laf for his ability to spoil him. He was with Lafayette for his ability to make Thomas’s heart sputter. Still he humored his boyfriend as he pulled out a pair of cat ear headbands. “Did you steal that from a youtube makeup guru?”

“It is adorable, yes?” Lafayette beamed, he cutely placed his matching pair on his head and made a pawing motion to Thomas. “Cute, cute, you wear yours.”

Thomas hesitated for a second, Lafayette continued to paw at the air in front of Thomas until he gave in. He slid the other pair on his head and looked over at Laf. “Are you happy now.” He rolled his eyes feeling absolutely foolish. Before Thomas could rip the accessory off his head, Laf wrapped his arm around Thomas. He buried his face into his curls and very sweetly whispered.

“Now that’s a kitty I’d gladly stroke~”

  • Who initiated the first kiss (Laf)

“Again?” Thomas was ushered into the police station, Laf was the last one left in the holding cell. Hamilton and his friends, had yet again reeked havoc. Laurens managed to make bail after his more than annoyed father let him out. Hamilton was let out by the good graces of George. Alex swore he’d find a way to get Laf out, perhaps convince George to pay up for him too. But that was hours ago. Lafayette called the only other person he knew would come. “Jesus fuckin’…”

“Mon amie…” He whimpered holding his arms as he sat in the cell, the police officer began running Thomas’s card through the system as he paid Lafayette’s bail.

“DO. NOT. Mon amie, me!” Thomas yelled at him, half the mind to take his card back but it was too late. The payment was being processed. “Why is it, you only need me when they fuck you over huh?”

“Alexandre tried he does not have the means to pay for me –”

“Oh but he has the means to get you into his mess? Lafayette, when are you going to stop being reckless and start realizing not all of Alexander and John’s schemes are healthy hm? What are you going to do when I am not here to pick you up or bail you out? You better learn to lick your own goddamn wounds” Thomas lashed out angrily at Laf, he watched as the taller, bloodied and bruised man shrank in his seat. “Is that all I am? Your back up, when shit hits the fan?” Thomas cared deeply for Laf but he was not here to be Laf’s escape route when he exhausted everything else.

The police officer walked over to the holding cell and opened it up but Lafayette did not move. “Lets go, Laf.”

“No.” He groaned. “You hate me.”

“…I don’t…please, can we go?” Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed at the entire situation. “Gilbert.” Lafayette cringed at the sound of his name, only used when Thomas was through with his shit. “I don’t hate you, I’m …tired of caring more about you than you do for me. If you can’t stay out of trouble…for me, then…”

Lafayette rose to his feet and practically lept out of the holding cell. He threw his arms around Thomas and kissed him deeply, letting the slightly shorter man melt into his arms. He kissed him as if the officer wasn’t standing only a few feet away, watching as the Frenchman deepened the kiss right there and then. His hands moving down Thomas’s back, stopping at the small of his spine. “Trust me…I do not care less…” He whispered softly against Thomas’s lips.

  • Who kisses the other awake in the morning (Thomas)

“Laf I’m leaving to work.” Thomas was already in his suit and tie, ready for the work day. While his French tutor boyfriend laid lazily in bed. He didn’t have to be up for a few more hours, so Laf took all the liberties to sleep in. His large, muscular arms hugged the pillow that Thomas had used and inhaled deeply. “…Mm” Thomas purred finding Lafayette’s clinginess to be too adorable to ignore. It was mornings like this, when Laf was naked under Thomas’s silk sheets, smothering his pillow, hair wild and undone that made Thomas want to stay. Stay and enjoy the beauty that was his boyfriend and his needy like love. Thomas leaned his body over Laf’s and kissed him softly. One kiss turned to two, two turned to several and slowly Lafayette was wide awake.

“Mm” He moaned between kisses which were now melting into deeper, wetter french kisses. “Don’t …I’m awake, I’m awake, don’t stop.” He felt Thomas’s tongue retract. “Tch, lache” he hissed angrily.  

“Ah yes, I’m the coward, the coward keeping our very expensive lifestyle afloat so you can waste away on my silk sheets.” He chuckled, “be kind to me Laf, you’ll never find another like me.”

  • Who starts tickle fights (Laf)

“Tooooomas” Laf was laying on the long, leather couch watching his boyfriend from the study. He was on the phone, yelling at Hamilton of course. He had been for the last hour, they were working together. A terrible idea really, and now Thomas had been yelling. Their lavish home filled with the hoarse and bitter sounds of Thomas’s temper. Lafayette felt like a helpless dame watching his man turn into a nasty ball of fuzzy fury. “Tomas..” Lafayette got up and crossed the long arching hallway to the study. He leaned against the frame just in time to meet Thomas’s apologetic stare. He held up at hand at Laf then continued to speak, this time quieter but still seething with anger.

Laf hated to see the love of his days like this. He walked into the study and gently wrapped his arms around Thomas as he complained, his Southern accent coming up the angrier he got. “Mon cherie…” he whispered, swaying and rocking the slightly shorter man. Thomas gently made a swatting motion with his hand, he wanted Laf to leave. He didn’t want to be seen like this.

Lafayette was not having it. Slowly his long, slender fingers peeled up Thomas’s finely ironed suit shirt. He exposed his soft sides and started ghosting his fingertips over his skin.
“He..heh..” Thomas started to involuntarily smile, he bit down on his lower lip, going silent as Hamilton’s voice blared a mile a minute through the phone. Laf smirked getting the reaction he wanted he playfully danced his delicate, feathery like finger tips over Thomas’s skin.

“Ah-haha!!” Thomas choked out some laughter. Laughter that Hamilton interpreted as an insult. He was being mocked. “I-I have to call you bac-hahaha, Ha-ha-hamilton!” Thomas slammed the phone down and laughed even larger. Lafayette giggled, watching the anger melt away from his Thomas’s voice.

  • Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower BATH (Laf)

It was a long day, Thomas had a long day. He got to his large home and was welcomed by Lafayette’s arms. Like some sort of housewife, Laf rid him of his suit and suitcase, not because he felt like he had to. Thomas did truly work hard and had a stressful line of work. “I ran you a bath, dear.” He kissed the top of Thomas’s frizzed head.

“Thank you.” Thomas yawned, he walked like a zombie towards the bathroom. He lazily kicked off all his clothing, barely paying mind to the fact it was a bubble bath. Lafayette had used the expensive bath salts and soap, filling the air with relaxing lavender scents. What did Thomas do in this life to deserve such a good man? The bath, still warm, and smelling amazing was also lit with small candles. That…was a strange touch but Thomas wouldn’t complain. Any bath was better than no bath. He sank down into the water letting out a loud and throaty groan. His body slumped and throbbed with pain but soon the warm water ebbed away at his aches. He had just closed his eyes when he heard the pop of champagne.

“Mind if I join?” Laf smiled holding the bottle while he stood there nude by the door.

Thomas’s mouth opened a bit, “not at all..” he watched his lover walk over, a sway to his hips that made his stomach turn. “Not…at all.”

  • Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch (Thomas)

“Working through lunch again?” Hercules looked over Laf who was the master of odd jobs. Strange how a man who came from riches of France was now in over his head in debt and more importantly seemed to change jobs more than he changed clothes.

Laf shrugged a bit, “I must.” He waved Herc off before he could be told once again he was allowed to be treated to lunch. First, he did not want to give anyone the wrong idea, and secondly he needed the money. Living with a wealthy lover gave Laf an unease…he didn’t want to be another burden or debt to someone. He worked with Hercules today, who needed someone to watch the dry cleaning place for him. Laf moved to the back and started steam ironing expensive suits, the sweat beading up along his brow as the door opened and the bell dinged. “I will be right with you.” He turned his head for a second only to accidentally steam his thumb. “Ah merde!” He hissed dropping the metal industrial steamer. “Sorry!” He rushed to the front only to find Thomas was standing there with a concerned look on his face. “Tomas, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to…surprise you with lunch, aren’t you on your break?” He looked around wondering why Laf was still working. “Am I too late?”

“Oh no…I was just going…” He blushed a bit, “you shouldn’t have come, I’m fine.” Laf’s stomach growled otherwise.

“Mhm” Thomas shook his head and offered his arm. “I know a little place we can grab a bite to eat and some wine.” Laf stared at Jefferson’s arm. He didn’t have the heart or the stomach to deny such a face. And nothing made Lafeytte giddier than a glass of fine wine.

  • Who was nervous and shy on the first date (Thomas)

“You’re shaking, mon amie.” Laf snickered as Thomas mounted the carriage with him. “Don’t tell me you don’t like horse drawn carriages…” Lafayette felt his smile weaken a bit. Was Thomas not happy?

“I’m fine.” Thomas snapped, he was shaking because he was nervous. No one took him on a date before. He was always the planner, the one who sorted out where they were going and when. Especially first dates, no Laf was the one. Lafayette asked Thomas out, and now it was his date. What if it was something Thomas wasn’t good at, or what if he had nothing to say. Thomas wasn’t prepared and the anxiety of it all was building in him. More precisely building over his left temple. He rubbed his fingers against his temple, mulling over all the things they could go wrong. Even more terrifying, he wanted this to work out. He wanted this to be perfect so bad…

Thomas was in the brink of tears when he felt Laf wrap a secure arm around his shoulders. He leaned into Thomas and sighed. “I’m so happy you’re with me, Tomas.” He mused, closing his eyes. “I was frightened you would have rejected me so…”

“Why?” Thomas chuckled, Lafayette was gorgeous, intelligent, and absolutely too sweet to be with Thomas. “Because you’re Hamilton’s friend?”

“Oui” Laf chuckled, it was a hard position to be in, when his best friend disliked his current lover so much.

Thomas felt the ease of the conversation push his aches back but his heart was still pounding hard and fast. At least that he could ignore more or less. The horse began to draw the carriage along, Thomas settled close into Laf working through the remaining bits of nerves he had left. “I think the fact I’m dating one of Hamilton’s best friends and it drives him inside to be one of the best things about you.” He smirked.

  • Who kills/takes out the spiders (Laf)

“Tomas, my love, I’m home.” Laf walked into the house only to be met with silence. “Thomas?” He walked in a bit more. The large and overly decorated home was eerily quiet. Lafayette instantly felt a pang of worry…until he heard something.


“Thomas?” Laf whipped his head back and forth trying to locate the origin of the sound.

“PST, LAFAYETTE” Thomas whispered from across the living room. He was holding up a long broom like a shield over his chest, his eyes scanning the ground. “Don’t move. In this very area there is the most disgusting creature I’ve ever seen in my life.” Thomas gulped, his face growing a bit paler with worry.

Lafayette looked around and saw nothing, he crossed his arms a bit. “Thomas I thought you told me you were raised in the Southern countryside, what creature could you possibly be afraid of?”

The southern man shot his French lover a dirty look of embarrassment. The glare could have cut through steel, “that doesn’t mean I liked it! Don’t come any closer” He noticed Lafayette was trying to cross the room to come towards him. “LAF NO WA–” Their eyes both went towards the ground. A long legged spider crossed the room and paused in front of Laf. Thomas’s mouth opened as if he was going to shriek.

With a loud THUD, Laf brought his foot soundly down on the bug and continued to walk across the room. “Let’s find this creature that has unnerved my sweet, bird.” He kissed Thomas’s head and ushered the man away from the sight.

  • Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk (Thomas because Laf proclaims his love sober or drunk, don’t matter)

The dinner party was going fine, Hamilton was there speaking between all of the ladies he wanted. John was loathsomely glaring at Alexander as he stole all the ladies, or perhaps because the ladies stole Alex’s attention? Either way there he was, Hercules was having a nice conversation with a few of the bosses which left…

“Jemmyyyy” Thomas purred, his face warm from all the booze he had been ingesting. He wrapped his arm around the shorter, stockier man and pulled him into an unprecedented hug. “I want you to meet someone…” He started to drag Madison through the crowd of well dressed men and women.

“Thomas…please” James cringed, drunk Thomas was near intolerable. He was a babbling, sloppy mess, even walking to where he was trying to talk James he knocked over a server who was carrying crabcakes on a platter. Thomas motioned to Lafayette, who was dressed in all white, shirt tucked, looking like a handsome angel. “Lafayette” Madison awkwardly smiled at the man.

The smile was met with a smooth and calm one from Lafayette. “It’s good to see you again, Madison. How is Dolley?”

“Fine, she’s…” He was cut off by Thomas who flung his arms around Laf’s neck.

“James, I want you to meet the man I’m going to marry one day, Maarie…Marie…” He pursed his lips trying to figure out the lengthy name that belonged to his dearest. “ Marrrii?” Thomas struggled as Laf soothing rubbed his buzzed boyfriend’s back.

“Thomas I’ve already…” He sighed, James figured Thomas wasn’t listening so he turned his attention to the ever patient Laf. “Good luck with him.” He slowly walked away leaving Thomas in the sober care of his boyfriend.

“Maria…” Thomas stammered only to be met by a soft kiss. “Laf…how can I marry you if I can’t say your name?”

“Simple, I’ll take your name, mon cher.” He chuckled indulging in Thomas’s drunk fantasies. Though the idea of Thomas wanting him for the rest of his life was enough to end him into a love drunk stupor.

Thomas paused for a long second and turned to the crowd, yelling at the top of his lungs until all heads were on him. “MET MYYY FUTURE HUBBY YA’LL, LAFAYETTE DE JEFFERSON”

imaginethat57  asked:

OH YAY PROMPTS. How about, will you write a follow up to that SQ prompt I sent you before where Emma takes care of Regina after surgery? Cause I'm dying to know how that sponge bath went.

Part One

Naked and vulnerable–and feeling a bit foolish, Regina sat on a folding chair in the middle of her luxuriously large tub and prayed for this to all be over quickly. If she were honest with herself, she did want Emma to eventually see her naked–but this was not how she had pictured that particular interaction in the slightest. She’d imagined some wine, low music, and perhaps a few candles. Not having her clothing peeled unceremoniously off with Emma’s eyes averted. Part of her was grateful that Emma respected her privacy, but a more salacious part wanted Emma to turn bright red and not be able to look away.

The sponge eased up and down her back in gentle, repetitive motions, and the silence was broken only by the splitter splatter of Emma dunking the sponge in the bucket of water beside the tub and squeezing out extra moisture. There were moments when she thought Emma was going to say something, but those seconds inevitably ended with a sigh.

When she could take the forlorn huffs of air no more, she snapped, “Either say what you’re thinking or making those noises.”

“Sorry.” Emma’s rhythm stuttered but didn’t stop. “I was just thinking.”

“Will I have to ask for every other word?”

“No, sorry.”

“And stop apologizing.”

“My bad.” Emma picked up the pace of her sponge work. “Why didn’t you ask for help in the first place?”

Regina found herself stymied by the softly spoken question. She wanted to say that she didn’t need help, but that was belied by Emma’s presence in her bathroom. Opting for the truth, she said, “Because I was afraid of being seen as fallible.”

“But you’re human, right?”

“Yes.” Regina closed her eyes as the area around her primary incision began to ache. “But to some of the people of this town, I am still a monster.”

“And any sign of weakness means you can be taken down.”


“Well, I’m not going to tell anyone what I’m doing here.”

“What excuse will you invent?”

Tittering nervously, Emma replied, “Probably that we’re dating.”

Unofficial Ownership

|Part 1 of 2|

WARNINGS: Smut, Language, Violence, Drug & Alcohol Usage, Mentions of Prostitution, Angst, Character Death

(IF ANY OF THE THINGS MENTIONED IN THE WARNINGS SECTION ARE TRIGGERING FOR YOU DO. NOT. READ. THIS. Seriously, don’t. If you decide to regardless of the warnings, you’re on your own.)


*Though this was a daddy!au request, I don’t think it turned out that way. I did try, but it turned into whatever this mess is. And it’s lengthy.*

“I don’t hear you.” He growled in your ear as he thrust into you harder, causing your makeup to streak against the grungy restroom mirror. You grunted in response as he pressed himself impossibly close, his grip on your arms tightening almost painfully. The edge of the dingy sink was digging into your pelvis and you could pinpoint, down to the exact second, when the strain in the backs of your thighs became unbearable. You couldn’t give him what he wanted, not with the way every thrust was like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. Your chest burned from the lack of air and tears rolled down your cheeks freely. “I. Don’t. Hear. You.” Each word punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, launching you forward. You squeaked, eyes burning as your mascara began to run. Your mouth was open, but no words would come to you. A scream stuck to the back of your throat like a spoonful of peanut butter. Thick and heavy, pushing you dangerously close to choking. Tiny, breathy squeaks replaced the scream, accompanying the grunts of the man slamming into your body from behind. 

There was a sudden stop, and your body, in its state of shock, broke down. Knees buckling, you slumped forward, heart racing as you caught your breath. It was quiet, almost too quiet. You were afraid to look at him, knowing he was pissed off at you. The mood was ruined because of your inability to follow his order. You were in trouble and there was no telling what kind of mess you’d find once you got home. Keeping your eyes closed, you supported as much of your weight on the the sink as you could to relieve the pressure in the backs of your thighs. The silence was broken as the bathroom filled with the sound of him finishing himself, hand working furiously against his erection. You kept your legs open in fear of upsetting him further. Granted, the shift in mood was technically his fault, but it wasn’t like it would matter. What he said, went. No matter if it was correct or not, because you belonged to him. If what he said did not go the way he wanted it to, there were consequences, none of them good. You shook as you pictured the possibilities. He grunted as he came, and then  you listened to him fixing his clothes. Nudging you aside, he washed his hands and shook the excess water from them. “I expect you to be on time tonight.” He said with a warning in his voice. A shiver crawled up your back and you gripped the sink harder. “What do you say?” He demanded. You looked up; at him in the makeup streaked mirror, “Yes, sir.” He smiled, flashing his dimples at you. “See you later, love.” You couldn’t bring yourself to smile back as he kissed the side of your head, placing a solid, open-palmed slap to your rear and squeezing firmly. 

You waited until you could no longer hear the clacking of his designer dress shoes in the hallway before you relaxed. Your chest hurt and your muscles ached, but none of that mattered when you had exactly six minutes before your first and only client, Mr. Park, arrived for the night. This wouldn’t be your first rush job, but it was beginning to become a chore. It was irritating to have to see Namjoon before your appointments simply because he liked to drag out his little “visits” to the very last minute, which meant you would smell like him when you met clients, which resulted in less money. Less money meant punishment from Namjoon, and no one wanted that, ever. 

You rushed down the carpeted hallway on bare feet, carrying your strapped sandals in your hand as you ran. You sent silent prayers to the heavens, hoping Mr. Park kept to his Tuesday schedule. He rarely strayed from his schedule unless he was in a rush due to a business and needed to get his fill of you before leaving. Tuesdays meant that he would be an hour and a half late. You checked your cellphone again, the timer ticking down the time as you rounded the corner. Thirty seconds. “Shit.” You panted and picked up speed. You ran as fast as the skin tight dress you wore allowed. Nearing his room, you slowed to a walk, gasping for air. The timer signaled the end of your time as you let yourself into Mr. Park’s suite. “Mr. Park?” You called out to him. There was no response and you exhaled heavily. He was indeed following schedule. “Oh thank God!” You breathed, doubling over and catching your breath. That was more work than you were willing to put in aside from the work you did for your clients. Once you could breathe easily, you threw your sandals to the side and ventured into the familiar room, heading straight for the bathroom to wash away every bit of Namjoon that you could before Mr. Park arrived. Mr. Park was your favorite client out of the five that you regularly saw. He paid above the required amount, always giving the extra money to you to put aside for something you wanted. If time permitted, he would spend the night with you, doting on you and telling you stories of his travels. He often hinted at running away with you. Although it was a foolish thing to believe in, the sentiment was enough to make you smile anyway. You wouldn’t mind escaping the hellish life you currently lived, but how long would the happiness last before Namjoon came looking for you? Shedding your clothes, you stared at yourself in the mirror in the wall-to-wall mirror over the sink. There were bags big enough to double as flotation devices under your eyes, making it seem as if you’d had an allergic reaction to something. You could see the beginnings of several bruises on the tops of your arms and up the left side of your neck. Hopefully, Mr. Park wouldn’t mind doing things with the lights off. It was rare that you would be allowed to make a request with your clients, but he was an understanding man. 

Utilizing the the time it took to wait for Mr. Park, you did a complete scrub down of your body, putting the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash he so nicely left behind to use.

“You’re late.” Namjoon’s voice rang out to you, echoing off of the walls. The mansion itself was almost pitch black. The only light coming in was the tiny bit of moonshine that illuminated in front of the massive front doors. You froze, hand still on the door knob. He emerged from the shadows with his hands in his pants pockets, coming from the direction of his office. You swallowed hard, body tensing as you braced yourself for the backlash. He was right, you were a half hour past “curfew”. He was stone-faced, very visibly angry with you for coming in past the time he’d ordered you to be in by. A lump formed in your throat, but you refused to show any sort of weakness. Not anymore. You’d been with him too long, and you’d come to know all of his little mind games well enough to be able to put up a front regardless of how scared you might be. He jerked his head towards his office, his very much sound proof office, which could only mean that whatever was about to go down, he didn’t want the other ladies of the house to hear. You followed after him quietly, your fight or flight instincts kicking in. You were ready to run if need be, but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t put up a fight.

It wouldn’t be the first time that a conversation between the two of you had come to blows, so you were prepared for it. You took full advantage of the fact that you were the face of Namjoon’s operation, his cash cow. He let you get away with far more than the other girls, simply because he knew that if anything happened to you, the money would stop coming in. You slammed the door, throwing your shoes, coat, and purse into the nearest chair, “What do you want?” You demanded with more attitude than you had intended. He sat on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, muscles straining against the tight material of his stark white t-shirt. “Come here.” He said in a low, menacing tone. You stood where you were.

Partly out of fear, and partly because you were in the mood to be defiant. “Come. Here!” He bellowed. You moved forward until you were standing directly in front of him, close enough to smell his toothpaste. He gripped your chin, hard, forcing you to look right at him. He was seething and it would have been hot any other time, but this time seemed to have real danger laying there. “Suck a dick.” You spat, nostrils flaring in anger. How dare he touch your face?! He laughed out loud, a condescending undertone to it, “Now, now, doll. That’s what I pay you for.” He pushed your face away, a look of disgust painted on his otherwise perfect features. You hated that about him. He was an asshole. An asshole of epic proportions, but he was beautiful. Damn him. You narrowed your eyes at him, staring him down, “What do you want?” You repeated angrily.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “It’s your birthday, lovey. I called you in here to give you a gift.” You figured he was lying because he was still pissed at you about earlier, and let’s not forget the fact that you missed curfew, again. You held out your hand expectantly, wishing he would get this meeting over with. You were exhausted, and all you wanted, was to shower and throw yourself into bed. “Come sit.” He instructed, moving off of his desk and giving the sturdy oak a solid slap. You were very familiar with what came after he told you to sit on his desk. Very familiar. You sat anyway, knowing full well what was about to transpire. Hiking your dress up above your thighs, you sat, opening your legs to him without being told to. While Namjoon busied himself with removing his belt, you rolled your eyes up to the ceiling. Him having sex with you twice in one day was apparently his idea of a gift for the day of your birth. You waited for the sound of his pants dropping to his ankles, but you were met with silence. You slowly lowered your head to find him looking at you. Leaning in, he placed his hands on either side of your body, pressing forward until he was mere inches away from your face, “Did you really think I was going to reward you for disobeying me?” You felt a sudden chill crawl up your back at the tone of his voice. So you’d guessed right. He was still angry. When you didn’t respond, his hand flashed up and gripped your neck, yanking you forward. You began to panic, “I’m sorry! I-I wasn’t late on purpose I swear!” You cried, trying to pull his hand away from your throat. His hold on you only tightened, causing you to panic further, “If I tell you to be home at a certain time, what do you think that means, ___________?” You couldn’t think with the lack of air to your brain. It was becoming increasingly hard to breath around the iron grip on your wind pipe. You had to do something or you’d black out. 

Without another moment’s hesitation, You locked your legs around his waist, making sure to dig your knees into his sides. “Let me go, asshole!” You choked out, squeezing as hard as you could. He yelped, letting go of your neck to tend to his hurt sides. Pushing him away, you kicked out at him, connecting with his midsection. “Don’t ever…touch me again. Bastard.” You spat, grabbing your things from the chair and leaving him in his office. You heard him gasp out a threatening, “I’ll deal with you in the morning” as you made your way down the hallway to the main part of the house. You practically to the room you shared with three other girls, hoping he wasn’t following you. You knew that tomorrow would be hell for not just you, but the other women. And that was something you blamed yourself for. You should have known better than to anger the man that demanded you call him daddy. 

Little did Namjoon know, you were done taking his shit. You were done bending over whenever he told you to, contract be damned. Things were about to change, and you were the sole reason for it all.

[To Be Continued…]

One | Two

Wonwoo: Red

anonymous asked: Can u do soulmate!au with wonwoo? Thank u ♥

Summary: Soulmate!AU in which he’s an artist, you’re a writer, and you like to leave bits of inspiration on each other’s arms.

- Admin Syrup (omg sorry this took so long!! school is terrible ;__; also i’m bad with titles please bear with me lol)

The first thing that had appeared on your wrist, sent to you by your soulmate, was a single brush stroke in vermillion. An artist, you thought, before shuffling through your drawers for your favorite pen to write back to him. With the tip hovering over the wrist opposite of where the red mark had appeared, you wracked your brain for an eloquent phrase to write to your soulmate. Funny how you were an aspiring writer, but you couldn’t find any words.

So you settled for a simple phrase that got your point across: ‘Hello.’ Hopefully your soulmate wouldn’t think you were boring and stop contacting you. Luckily, your soulmate responded a minute later, this time in strokes of orange; you could feel the brush, as if he were painting directly on your skin.

‘My name is Jeon Wonwoo.’

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Originally posted by sassmastersarahkv

Stuck Inside My Head

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Chapter Two: Falling

“Hey!” Negan called after his son as he ran ahead of him, “Jude, don’t run!”

Jude stopped in his tracks, his shaggy brown hair shined as he whipped around to look back at his daddy; “Hurry! ’M hung'y!”

Smiling and shaking his head, Negan jogged up behind him, pocketing his keys, “You’re too fast,” he teased. “Gimme your hand.”

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anonymous asked:

how was falling in love the second time?

bear in mind that it didn’t end well. bear in mind that i just cut loose that powerful cord and it’s only been a few days of roaming free. bear in mind that i don’t still love the boy i loved second. 

but, sometimes even now, when i am curling into a ball minutes before i fall asleep, i think back to his large, careful hands. his wide-spreading smile against my neck. when i drink tea that could use some sugar, i remember what his mouth tasted like. we spent entire evenings trying not to sit too close. sometimes our knees would bump and i would feel it in some deep, special part of me. but i’m getting ahead of myself. 

the boy i loved second was at one point only someone in a picture. and then a friendly face, and then, almost finally, a friend. i remember how we once talked, almost too seriously, and someone interrupted the conversation and i was a bit relieved. the boy i loved second, he came as close as he could. 

it was a long way. i once slipped down a hill, a laugh-like scream ripped from my throat, and he caught my hand. i remember staring at our fingers. huh, i thought. when it was happening, i said i was curious. i had to see how far i could push this beautiful thing before it ran away from me. i spent weeks eating pieces of chocolate and barely sleeping. we tip-toed down hallways, pressed our laughing faces against each other, kissed until it was barely morning. the boy i loved second was strong and gentle. he touched me like i was a dream. if he loved me at all, he forgot i was real.

the boy i loved second was my friend. i loved him like i have never loved anyone else. i gave him every piece of truth i could. ‘the boy i loved second’ sounds like it is a consolation prize. but it was never like that. i wanted the boy i loved second. i used to think his name as often as i thought about god. i never felt as safe as i did with him. alone in a bedroom or on a city street. 

make no mistake, the boy i loved second was foolish. sometimes when i think about everything that went wrong, i forget what i am really mad about. this stupid, stupid boy. this stupid, stupid story. 

i don’t regret any of it. i would do it again. i would love him again. 

Clues From Above

Anonymous said: Hi, I was wondering if you could do a reader x Adam soul mate on shot, where the reader is a hunter who’s grown up around Sam and Dean

A/N: Thank you, bibliophilegirl15 for giving me some extra ideas for this!

Word count: 1,950

Pairing: Adam x Reader

Warnings: none.


You were holding your stomach, arms crossed over the fabric of your t-shirt as you laughed out loud at Adam’s joke about Dean’s age. Adam was snickering at the glares that Dean sent him from the rearview mirror of the Impala, halfheartedly nudging you to be quiet while he tried to stop laughing himself. Even Sam was chuckling from his place in the front, making him be the next receiver of Dean’s glares.

“Shut up, idiots, it wasn’t even funny,” the oldest Winchester grumbled, frown creasing his forehead as he looked back to the road. But you continued laughing, leaning against Adam as tears prickled in your eyes. “Sam, c’mon man, you’re just four years younger!”

“He’s still younger than you, old man,” you said between breaths, your roars settling down to giggles. Adam wrapped his arm around your shoulders, not noticing how almost immediately you stopped laughing, your body tensing up and your cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, Dean, exactly how old are you again?” Adam asked, his voice much closer to you now that your head was resting against his chest.

Dean glanced back at the both of you again, ready to argue with him about that, when he noticed the way you were sitting, as wells as your reddening face. You regretted laughing at him as soon as he sent a knowing smirk in your way.

Not now, Dean, please, you thought, mentally begging him to not say anything about your very obvious crush on Adam. However, you knew that that would not happen in a million years.

You had known Sam and Dean for as long as you could remember.

You met them at Bobby Singer’s place when you were four; your parents would drop you off while they were at hunts, and even though there was a huge age gap between you and the brothers, you had an instant bond with both of them. After graduating high school, you started hunting on your own, but then you had to rest with Bobby for a few months thanks to a hunt gone wrong and he made you promise that you would stick with the Winchesters from that point on.

There was no doubt that they were like your brothers, but, unfortunately for you, that meant that they could see right through your crush on their half-brother—and they never passed the opportunity to tease you about it, specially when Adam was with you.

The inside of the car was silent for a moment, only filled with the purr of the Impala’s engine and the slight blow of the wind entering across the small opened crack of your window. You knew it was foolish to think that the merciful peace would last.

“You look comfortable there, (Y/N),” Dean said calmly, the corner of his lips turning up in a smug smile. Sam’s head turned towards you and Adam, his eyes widening the slightest bit as he looked at your position.

“So, why are we going to Muncie, Indiana of all places when we have a case back in Colorado?” you asked quickly, leaning back on your seat and avoiding Adam’s disappointed eyes.

“Cas said that a cupid might know how to kill Hathor,” Sam answered, his fingers flipping the sleek pages of the Egyptian mythology on his lap.

“His buddy couldn’t pop over there because apparently the ‘love business’ is too important to leave, so we’re coming to him,” Dean grumbled, making you and Adam sigh.

Forgetting about the previous awkward moment for a second, you send him a smile only to see that he was already grinning at you. You bit your lip, looking away to hide your blush just as Adam did the same.

Concentrate on the case, you reminded yourself, your heart racing in your chest.

An Egyptian love goddess, Hathor, was angered at the fact that people were only praying to her for their own benefits instead of actually worshiping her, so she had decided to take it out on couples in a small town of Colorado. Needless to say, you were ready to take her out, but none of you had found a way to kill her yet.

The car slowly fell into quietness again, a calm sense of tranquility settling down within its occupants. You leaned your head against the window, the cool glass soothing the heat that still resided in your cheeks. Soon enough, your eyes grew heavy with exhaustion and your world grew dark.

Just a few hours later, Dean and Sam took pictures of you and Adam, both of you asleep and snuggling with each other before you were woken up to rest at a motel.


You struggled to hear your thoughts as the music of the bar played loudly, making you shout just so that Adam, who was right next to you, could even hear you. One of his arms was around the middle of your back, thankfully keeping the attention of some extremely drunk men away from you. And also making sure that the blazing fire on your cheeks would be kept alive.

“When exactly is this cupid angel showing up?” you yelled, watching with amusement as two people started to make out with each other. One of them being Dean.

“No idea,” Adam chuckled, following your sight and taking bringing his drink to his lips.

You smiled, your heart racing as you noticed his lips becoming wet with the alcohol. You had been trying to get over him for some months, but something just seemed to pull you closer every time you distanced yourself even just a little bit. You realized with embarrassment that you had been looking at him for longer than normal as Adam turned towards you, his lips turning up in a smirk that might as well scream, “I know you were looking at my lips.”

Before either of you could say anything else, you felt someone tugging on the sleeves of your jacket. You turned around, ready to shoo away a sleazy drunk and instead finding Sam’s chest.

“Cupid’s here guys,” he said, but his words were drowned by the high-pitched squeal of a woman.

She looked young; probably in her early twenties, curly raven hair and beautiful inky-black skin, but you didn’t have anymore time to take a better look, as she had thrown her arms around you.

“Oh my Father, it’s really you guys! Castiel talks about you four all the time!” she exclaimed happily while you patted her back, chuckling awkwardly.

Adam just stood to the side, trying to hide his jealousy. It seemed a bit ridiculous to him how protective he could be of you when you weren’t even in a relationship, but the vigilant, and sometimes possessive, feeling that he got whenever he was near you was impossible to ignore. While you thought of a way to separate from the excited girl without hurting her feelings, he went to get Dean.

“Um, so, you’re the cupid, right?” you smiled, carefully grabbing her arms and pushing her away a little. The angel giggled, clapping her hands together and nodding. Adam was by your side again, a grumbling Dean with him. “Right, uh, I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

“Do you know how to kill Hathor? You know, Egyptian goddess,” Dean interrupted, annoyance clear in his voice.

He must have been with a really good kisser, you thought. The cupid’s smile faltered for a second, but fortunately it was up again in a flash. You had heard that cupids could be easily saddened, which was the last thing you wanted.

“Of course! It’s actually very simple,” the girl said gleefully, white teeth sparkling brightly as the corner of her lips turned up. “You just need to dip the tip of a silver knife in the blood of two people—soul mates, to be precise—and you’re good to go! Although killing somebody can be quite bad, you know,” she added, sighing.

“Okay, but how are we going to find two soul mates?” Sam asked, expressing your exact thoughts. It wasn’t like he or Dean were in any sort of committed relationship, and you would be dreaming if Adam even happened to like you.

“How? Why, you’ve got this two, little love birds right here!” she offered, eyes darting to you and then Adam.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, your jaw hanging open and your eyes becoming wide as plates. You could feel your heart in your throat, the heat of the sun radiating in your cheeks and ears with a prickling sensation.

Adam’s body went limp, completely frozen by the angel’s words. It was impossible that you were his soulmate, it had to be impossible…but it felt so right at the same time. It would explain why you two always got along with ease, why when you had to share a bed you ended up snuggling no matter what, and most of all, why he had been in love with you since the moment he met you.

“I-I think I need to step outside for a moment,” you said shakily, not meeting Adam’s eyes as you walked past him and out of the bar. He watched you leave, his mouth hanging open as he tried to stop you from leaving.

“So that explains all the sexual tension,” Dean joked, but Adam barely listened to him.

“Go after her, man,” Sam grinned, his smile showing that he knew of Adam’s feelings for you. Adam nodded, his pulse ringing in his ears as he pushed by his brothers and the drunk people at the bar.

The air outside was chilly enough to create goosebumps, the short hairs on the back of Adam’s neck standing up. You were sitting down on the floor, your back against the wall and your shoulders slumped down. Your eyes were closed and your breath created the smallest clouds of mist as you pulled your jacket closer to you.

“It’s a bit careless to just be out like this,” Adam said, sinking right next you. Your eyes snapped open, a shadow of alert flying in them before it was replaced with shyness as you looked away. “So…we’re soul mates, huh?”

“Adam, you don’t need to pretend to care, okay?” you sighed, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. “Look, I, um, I kind of like you. A lot. But just because some angel planted an arrow through us, it doesn’t mean that I expect you to act like you like me too, and I’m fine with that, but just…please don’t do it.”

Your hand was suddenly enclosed by something warm and soft, confusion running through you as you looked at the intertwined hand with yours and then Adam. He gave you a small smile, his blue eyes shinning with amusement.

“You know, you look pretty cute when you think I don’t love you,” Adam chuckled, giving your hand a small squeeze. You bit your lip, cheeks plumping with your small smile. “But I think I would rather let you know that I do love you. Not because of what that angel said, but because you’re amazing, (Y/N). You are so kind, funny, and seeing you decapitate a vampire is honestly the hottest thing ever.”

"Shut up,” you laughed, unable to keep the relief off your words. There was a small, comfortable silence as Adam wrapped his arm around you, inching closer so that you could lean against him. “I love you too.”

Adam pressed his lips against the top of your head, inhaling the sweet smell of your shampoo and wondering why he had waited for a cherubim to say something so simple and true. You were truly soul mates.

✦ I Will be there, i promise

Originally posted by jooneh

Title: I Will be there, i promise (sequel to: i Will be there)

Pairing: Yunhyeong x Reader

Genre: Slight Angst, Romance

Length: ~3000

A/N: This is the sequel to Yun’s apology scenario. If you haven’t read that yet, stop right here and click on this link! A lot of people asked me to write a second part since i’m evil and love to make you suffer with sad endings loljk /i suffered too/ but here is the second part. This story takes place 2 years after the ending of the first part. I also thought about writing a Prologue because i’m not sure if you understand everything but yeah it depends if you like this or not. anyway i hope you enjoy reading!

Goodbye love, you flew right by love

Another night passed as you stood at your window and gazed at the little sparkly dots that patterned the constellation of a perfectly beautiful night sky. Again, you wondered if he looked at the same stars right now. Was he perhaps thinking of you, still? Was he– you shook your head at these foolish thoughts.

Not again. It was time to move one, wasn’t it already too late? but… just one more time, only one more night you would allow your heart to miss him. In your mind, he was the moon. It made you forget that he didn’t want you anymore, it made you believe that he still watched over you.

It had been 2 years.

Like every morning, you woke up like an empty shell of shattered fragments that were somehow glued together. A defensive mechanism your body had created over this time but you were scared because it felt like they would break apart soon. You missed him.

With the thought of Yunhyeong lingering in your head, although you had promised you would stop thinking about him (like every night you lied to yourself), you put on some simple clothes that lied around in the room and took a step outside into the breezy morning air. It left you with a smile, was he perhaps outside by now?

You went into the local super market and somehow you already felt strange when you had entered it. Looking around, you heard voices but– It sounded like– no, it couldn’t be. A laugh. Right beside you and you knew, you just knew it was him. You turned to the side and saw Yunhyeong, standing not even a meter away.

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