the things i want you to do with that handkerchief


Prompt/Summary: This is fic number 12 for @mrs-squirrel-chester​‘s album challenge.  You know the boys before they go off to war

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Some angst. 

Word Count: 931

Author’s Note:   See the end.  I love this song.  I sing it in the shower a lot.  I hope I did it justice.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Bluebird Video

Album Challenge Master List

Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

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You’re going to meet many people with domineering personalities: the loud, the obnoxious, those that noisily stake their claims in your territory and everywhere else they set foot on. This is the blueprint of a predator. Predators prey on gentleness, peace, calmness, sweetness and any positivity that they sniff out as weakness. Anything that is happy and at peace they mistake for weakness. It’s not your job to change these people, but it’s your job to show them that your peace and gentleness do not equate to weakness. I have always appeared to be fragile and delicate but the thing is, I am not fragile and I am not delicate. I am very gentle but I can show you that the gentle also possess a poison. I compare myself to silk. People mistake silk to be weak but a silk handkerchief can protect the wearer from a gunshot. There are many people who will want to befriend you if you fit the description of what they think is weak; predators want to have friends that they can dominate over because that makes them feel strong and important. The truth is that predators have no strength and no courage. It is you who are strong, and it is you who has courage. I have lost many friends over the fact that when they attempt to rip me, they can’t. They accuse me of being deceiving; I am not deceiving, I am just made of silk. It is they who are stupid and wrongly take gentleness and fairness for weakness. There are many more predators in this world, so I want you to be made of silk. You are silk.
—  C. JoyBell C.
Better This Way (Chapter Five)

The calm before the storm. The sweetness before the angst. God, the feels, THE FEELS!

Loving all the feedback from you guys, it’s all lovely and I love you


Enjoy :)

Peter’s heat started three days later, and other than a short text a few days ago from Wade saying that he took an out of town ‘job’,  he hadn’t heard from the Alpha since their conversation on the roof.

So he told himself not to be too emotional about it, gathered all his supplies and engaged the extra locks on all his doors. Windows were bolted shut and curtains closed. He pulled his favorite toy– a long dildo with a big knot at the base– from his dresser and put it on the end table next to several bottles of water and some protein bars. A waterproof liner over his mattress but under his favorite sheets, and all the blankets tossed into the corner of the room. He’d just sweat through them anyway, and no sense adding to the laundry pile.

Peter kept looking at his phone, kept thinking about calling Wade, or even texting him, because at this point just a message from the Alpha would make him feel better. But eventually he tossed the phone into his closet and threw an arm over his head. It was already almost midnight, nearly pitch black in his room and Peter wished he could just sleep, wished he could just pass out for a few hours to make this part go faster.

Pre-heat–the hours of his body temperature slowly rising, of the ache inside him growing steadily worse, of the arousal that started out as a low buzz and then became something like a scream in his head—

He wished he could just sleep through it.
Or have someone to sit with him through it.
But if Wade wanted to be here he would have been here. He wouldn’t have taken a fucking job somewhere. He would have—

Tap tap tap.

Peter frowned, but chalked the noise up to a mouse or something. This apartment was better than the last place he lived, but still kind of a shit-hole. Mice were to be expected.

Tap tap tap.

No, that was definitely his window.

Peter rolled out of bed, slipped into a pair of shorts and pulled the curtains away from the window, peering out into the dark, grateful for his perfect night vision.

“Oh.” his mouth fell open. “Oh.”

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Witches on a budget, I’m telling you, go to thrift stores. (I mean, if you want to. But I strongly recommend it.)

90% of my candle holders and candles in every conceivable color are from the local thrift store. One of them was literally a sealed package of witchcraft-specific candles with ritual instructions inside. I’ve found devotional statues, wooden boxes and shelves perfect for altars and witchy storage, all the interesting jars ever, seashells, stones, altar cloths and tarot deck cloth wraps, offering dishes, chalices, witchy books, tiny picture frames for ancestor pictures, and more. Most witchy things I see don’t even buy but leave behind because I don’t need them or they’re not relevant to my specific practices, but I’m always floored by how great they might be for others.

This post was inspired by the fact that I just bought handkerchiefs for devotional embroidery I’m going to work on, and an oracle deck in its original packaging (in a grab bag of other stuff I’m about to sort through, so maybe there’s more witchy stuff too!), for a total of $3. I’m serious. Just during a brief trip to my local Goodwill.

So, in conclusion, thrift stores? All the witchcraft supplies ever. Do some basic cleansing (usually just a quick mundane wash for things that have an interesting and safe energy to begin with) and you’re good to go.

If you want, reblog and tell me about your own thrifty witchy finds!

anonymous asked:

Can I ask for some angst? What about the boys seriously injuring their s/o's in the middle of battle because they were hit with confusion.

TEARS! When those poor babies get confused it’s so cute and upsetting. 




You managed to dodge Noctis’s next stab, as you attempted to get close enough to apply the smelling salts, as everyone else was providing cover for you, as your boyfriend had become foe. Your eyes widen as you saw him summon a fireball, the Prince’s aim was already off when he was in control, but under confusion…

“Noctis!” You screamed, as you quickly rushed him, before he could do damage to either himself or anyone else.  Managing to getting the smelling salts underneath his nose, yet not before you felt the heat of the fireball explode.

The entire battlefield went quiet as they saw the smoke from the explosion, the beast was already down, as your three companions turned to where they last saw you.

“Noct.” Ignis gasped, as he begun running back towards you “Noct! Y/N, are you okay?”

As they reached the scene, finding your body leaning against Noctis’s, the Prince unharmed, yet you were situated within his lap, you legs tucked underneath you, hands to your sides, chin resting on the man’s shoulder, while Noctis held you tightly tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh my…” Prompto quickly stopped, as they all realized the smell of burning flesh, you entire right arm was black.

“I’m so sorry.” Noctis repeated to you time and time again, he knew you were alive, as he could feel your breathing, but your gaze remained locked over his shoulder to something in the distance. Obviously in a state of shock as you tried to process what happened, and the pain running through your body at the moment.

“Noct, Noctis, we have to move Y/N.” Ignis explained, kneeling before you two.

Noctis tried to process what the man was saying, only when Ignis reached for you, did he slowly start to relax his hold on you. Only to feel tears as your left hand grasped onto the bottom of his shirt, between your thumb and forefinger, your eyes finally blinking, as tears began to fall.


“Ignis stop.” Noctis ordered, as the elder man quickly stopped. “We have to move you, Y/N.”


Noctis nodded softly, turning his vision to Ignis, Noctis nodded, as Ignis wrapped his arms back around you waist, pulling you from the Prince’s lap. Only for everyone to flinch as you shrieked, you good hand quickly reaching out to Noctis, pulling yourself back to the Prince’s lap, crying.

“Noctis.” You cried.

Noctis sighed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Before anyone knew what was happening, the Prince tossed a sword away from himself before warping after it, only for Ignis to quickly scoop in and grab you. Instead of warping back, the Prince walked over slowly, he knew what he did, and he knew there was nothing he could do to apologize enough.



You staggered around the battlefield, trying to push through the hole within your leg that Prompto had accidentally entered in you within in confused state. For whatever reason, you and Gladiolus had been the main focus of the young blonde, as he fired. You just needed to distract him long enough for the smelling salts to take affect.

“Noct!” You panicked, as you saw Prompto’s next shot line up with the Prince. Shoving the Prince out the way, as you gasped, finding yourself at the barrel of Prompto’s pistol, as he fired. Lucky the confusion was wearing off, so he had managed to pull the gun away, but unfortunately it was down, the bullet going through your left thigh.

You entire body collapsed to the ground as you grabbed a hold of you leg, only realizing that you were screaming when you realized that you couldn’t hear Prompto. You didn’t want to look down, and see the wound, but you could feel it and this hurt a lot more than the hole he accidentally placed in your calf.

“Please be okay.”

You panted, trying to get yourself to stop screaming, but the pain was too much. Feeling Prompto move your torso into his lap, cradling you tightly, as Ignis and Gladiolus moved beside you.

“Y/n, tell me if you can feel this.” Gladiolus called, as he knocked on your shin, as you let out a rather loud shriek, turning to bury your face into Prompto’s shoulder, as he held you tightly, stroking your hair, whispering softly to you.

“The bullet didn’t go all the way through, we’ll have to dig it out, before we can place a potion on it.” Ignis stated. “We’re lucky, Prompto didn’t hit anything serious.”

“You’re going to want this.” Gladiolus stated, handing you one of his wrist guard, “Try to keep her from flailing around Prompto.”

Prompto held you tightly, tears falling from his eyes as he heard your muffled screaming from the wrist guard clenched between your teeth to avoid you from biting down on your tongue. “I’m so sorry sweetie, this is all my fault. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry.”



Years, years that Gladiolus knew you, before you started dating, and before you both fell in love. The man had never seen you like this, you always took pain with a laugh, even the couple of occasions where you kept going until you fainted, or your body stopped working.

Yet here, and now you laid on your back in the middle of camp, screaming bloody murder, as the man held you tightly to avoid you aggravating the large wound that Ignis was constantly pouring potion after potion into.

The large wound that, he, himself placed on you with his own broadsword. Had you not dodge in time, you would have been cut directly in half.

“You’re doing fine Babe, you’re doing amazing.” Gladiolus whispered stroking your hair, as he held you within his lap, keeping you as still as possible, while Prompto and Noctis held your legs to avoid you from kicking any of them in the tent.

The would have moved you to the nearest town, yet as it was now night, and the scent of your blood would have drawn more deamons. Even though your bleeding had stopped, the wound was refusing to heal completely.

“One more should at least but her within a stable condition, that I can administer basic first aid.” Ignis explained, he kept giving you a step by step process, not wanting to overload you.  “Y/N will you be fine to do this?”

“Gladdy,” You cried voice hoarse from screaming looking up to your boyfriend, tears in your eyes, “It hurts.”

Gladiolus wrapped both arms around your shoulders, holding you close and down,  to avoid you from reopening the wound, and hurting yourself further.  “I know babe,  just one more. Go for it Iggy.”

Gladiolus held you tighter, as you let out another loud scream, he couldn’t believe he had done this. That he had caused you to scream this way.



Ignis blinked awake, as he smelt an ocean? Yet they weren’t near the ocean.

No! It was sea salt, this was smelling salt. Had he become confused within the battle? His blurry vision, it seemed he misplaced his glasses.


Ignis looked down to the weak call of his name, seeing you hunched over, at his feet. “Darling are you alright?” Ignis inquired kneeling down to your level, having to so that he could actually see.

“I…I’m scar…ed…”

Ignis couldn’t stop the gentle gasp that came from his mouth, as you turned your attention up to him. A small trail of blood coming from your lips, looking down to see the reason you were hunched over. A dagger, one of his own, was jutting from your stomach.

It took the advisor less than a minute to put two and two together. He had done this within his confused state, he knew it.

“Darling, I’m going to lay you down.”

You nodded softly, removing one of your hands from the hilt of the dagger, to avoid it from shifting around and causing more damage, to rest on Ignis outstretched hand, as he placed his suit jacket down for you to lay on.

“My dear cupcake, it doesn’t appear too deep, we should remove it.” Ignis stated.

You smile weakly, as Ignis pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, as he wiped the blood from your mouth. “I trust you with my life, Ignis. Always have, always will.”

Ignis pursed his lips, as he nodded, his hand replacing your own on the hilt. Staring at the wound he had inflicted, trying to imagine what was going through your mind. Only to turn and face you, as you rose a hand to place on his cheek.

You wait until those green eyes meet you own, as you smiled through the pain in your stomach. You knew Ignis was nervous, he did not show it in his face, yet you could feel his fingers tremble in the hand that was holding the handkerchief at the entrance sight, and those sweet little pet names.

“I love you, Ignis, everything will be fine.” You smiled, as you motioned for him to come closer.

Ignis moved to lean over you, pressing a kiss to your lips as you wanted. Only to feel your hand wrap around his own, before you yanked the dagger out, a muffled grunt against his lips.

“My love, that was a rather reckless thing to do.” Ignis whispered against your lips, he knew you had fainted after your hand fell from his cheek. Yet he found himself wishing that you were awake so that he didn’t have to be left alone with his thoughts.

035. boxer!you x jin

035. “your stray red item turned my whites pink.”

If there was one thing that Seokjin loathed for you to have in common with someone he calls your other half of the ‘brat squad’, aka Jeon Jungkook, it would be the fact that the both of you are also the ones that make up ‘white all day everyday’. The amount of white clothes you have is indescribable and Seokjin can only imagine how much bleach is used when you want to get all of them cleaned. Let’s not even talk when the two of you talk about getting more white shirts and Seokjin has one thought like the rest of the world.

It’s… a white shirt… why would you need fifteen of the exact same thing?

In this case, in the case where Seokjin is in love with you and isn’t able to voice his thoughts when it’s with your own hard earned money, he can’t argue when you look real good in anything especially white. So it was like a knife poking at him and also a feather gently stroking his skin. Regardless, there are times where he absolutely adores it and borderline wants to burn your whole collection of white clothing.

Today was the day that Seokjin prays for his life when he’s somewhat grateful to receive a text from someone who once spent a thousand dollars with his card on food.

jeon kook [3:23PM]: hyung, i’m giving you a heads up before you die that y/n is pissed and she’s on her way over to beat your ass

Kim Seokjin may be the CEO that everyone fears but they’ve yet to meet Y/N, the other half of CEO Kim… who is one of the few who could get him on his knees and he’d do it in a heartbeat.

kim jin [3:23PM]: what did i do?

jeon kook [3:24PM]: sent a picture

Seokjin anticipates for the worst of the worst but only the worst that’s not even measured in that category becomes a reality when his eyes blink a few times too many at the same image that won’t go away.

All your white (or what used to be) shirts now in a light shade of pink and he’s saying it’s light because that’s exactly what he’s going to say when… when…


He dodges when you fling something red at his way and he snaps over his shoulder to see what looks like a balled up handkerchief that squelches to the marble floor. Still wet, soaking with your anger like the words seething past your teeth and he can only do so much as to release a breath and looking away from over your shoulder as the door closes, sealing him far from anyone’s sight.

“Just in case you wanted your red handkerchief… that completely ruined all my white shirts,”

“Y/N I get you’re mad but I can explain-”Seokjin didn’t know it was possible to do three things at once when you lunge at him: breathe, scream and run, “I’m sorry!!!”

((”this is a little too much don’t you think?” seokjin asks, past three bottles of bleach he’s carrying during the walk back to the apartment.

stopping in your tracks and turning to look at him with a cocked brow, he quiets down and whispers a soft i love you before you ignore him to continue walking.

seokjin’s steps are heavy as he trails behind you but they get lighter and lighter when he manages to hear the words you mutter under your breathe, thudding his eardrums with delight.

love you too, idiot.))

Worth the Wait

Anonymous said: Hello! How are you? (first of all, I’m really sorry for my English, it’s not my native language) Well, since your request are opened, may I request headcanons in which you tell the slow romance between Newt and the reader, something like friendship-to-true love? ( I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense)

Here you go, love! I hope you like this! :) It was a bit different for me to write a “headcanon” romance because I am used to writing a lot more detail so this KIND OF became a short fic instead. I hope that’s fine. ENJOY!!


The first time you met Newt Scamander you were not quite sure you would ever get along. He seemed desperately timid and even though you tried to make conversation it never seemed to capture his interest.

“I hear Ravenclaw is doing well in Quiddith this year.”

No answer but a slight smile on his lips as the lift halted at his floor.

“Beautiful weather we’re having today.”

“Mm. Yes.”

“I like your hair today Mr. Scamander. It looks nice.”

“Oh, erm - thank you.”

It did not appear as if you would ever find anything to connect with him about.

You both worked for the Ministry of Magic. He was quite respected in the Beast Division and you - Obliviation. The only reason you ever saw Newt (more than on the morning lift ride) was if a beast got loose and you were sent in to help assist him with the “clean up." 

"How many people saw the Murtlap?" 

Newt would blush and shift his weight uncomfortably as you lined the muggles against the railing; unsheathing your wand to perform the spell.

"Twelve. So sorry.”

“Ah, you should be." 

Newt failed to see the smirk and small smile forming on your lips.

It took every ounce of courage to ask him to tea the next afternoon.

"Do you like tea?”

Newt nodded excitedly. “I love it.”

“I was wondering - if maybe - WE could - uh, go get some tea…”

His expression was curious and full of anticipation.

“If we could get some tea, together… after work.”

Newt blushed slightly and focused his attention on the case in his hands before uttering a small, “I’d love that.”

Tea. The answer to all problems.

You had mint and he had ginger with lemon.

You sipped quietly at first remarking about the weather and the state of affairs at the Ministry until you finally just blurted it out, "So - what’s with the case you always carry Mr. Scamander?”

The light in Newt’s eyes shone brighter than the morning sun, “Would you… care to see?”

You were a bit taken aback by this question as Newt had never invited you anywhere. 

“Su - sure.”

When tea was finished and the world was saying good night you found yourself inside of Newt’s case surrounded by magical creatures. He didn’t have many but he explained how he was slowly collecting them from around London and the outer countryside.

“Most recently, I caught the Niffler. Bugger! Where’s he run off to?”

“This is extraordinary Mr. Scamander!" 

You could not believe your eyes.

"Oh? You think so?”

Nodding, you grinned up at him. He seemed more alive than at work. More certain of himself. More playful. The smile on his lips was radiant and you could not help but breathe in deeply and shut your eyes as if to memorize the moment. It was so peaceful.

“Call me Newt.”

Your eyes fluttered open. “What?”

“Call me Newt.” He offered you his hand and as you took it, a slight tingle of longing ran up your spine.

“Newt.” You sighed.

From them on, you were inseparable.

Your morning lift ride was full of chatter now.

“Augustus Worme has commissioned me to write a book about magical creatures.”

“Really? That’s wonderful, Newt. When do you start?”

“Two months. I have to make preparations for a year in the field.”


“Ah yes, I will be travelling around the world collecting as many species as I can to care for and nurture. Study. Research. That sort of thing.”


Why did you feel so… disappointed?

You smiled anyway.

"I’m really happy for you Newt.”

Train stations were not your favorite place - especially when saying goodbye. 

“Promise you’ll write - I want to hear all about your exciting adventures.”

Newt smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You gasped at the touch, “What will I do without my elevator companion?”

It was almost impossible to fight the tears forming in your eyes.

“Here.” He handed you a handkerchief, “Take this.”

You chuckled, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “Thank you.”

“I will write. I promise. Will you… erm, will you do something for me, [your name]?”

“Of course, anything Newt…”

“Will you meet me here when I come back?”

The tone of his voice set your heart to light. It was the tone of more than just a co-worker. More than just a friend. You blushed slightly, as a large smile spread across your face. 

“Yes. Yes of course!”

You waited longingly everyday for an owl from Newt and three months later, you finally received word.

Hello dear [your name],

I apologize if this letter takes a long time to find your hands. I am deep within the jungles of south Asia and I anticipate this note will have quite the journey back to England. It is hot and muggy here. Most days I wonder why I brought my wool coat. I could have done with a simple raincoat but I suppose I should not complain as I would rather be prepared than not. This week I have been taking dirt samples and collecting vials of venom from various species. What used to be a nearly empty case has become quite full. I finished the shed. It was necessary to have a place to retreat when I did not want to be bothered by a stray Billywig or Murtlap. I find the shack to be quite comfortable… room enough for two even. Erm, I look forward to giving you a full tour when I get back. I expect to be home for a break during the Christmas holidays. That will mean six months since I have seen you. I hope you will not forget our promise. I already have a small token I would like to gift you upon my return. Please know, you are in my thoughts. There are moments out here in the wild where I dearly miss your laugh. I think I would love to hear that sound every day… ah. Yes. Well then - I shall leave this. I do hope you are well and happy. 

Newt Scamander


The words sprang from the parchment and you clutched a hand over your heart.



Snow fell quietly as you entered the train station six months later. For one reason or another Newt had been delayed throughout his journey home and the hour grew late. It was dark. There were hardly any bystanders now. He was coming in on the last train of the evening and as you listened for it you felt your heart would burst. Would he be different? Were you? You smoothed your hair and reapplied a layer of lipstick, tapping your heels anxiously below you.
The train pulled in and a layer of stream filled the platform. You immediately sprang to your feet, coughing slightly as the air began to clear.

He stood in front of you, case in hand, disheveled hair, with a layer of dust on his coat. His gaze of weariness turned to excitement the moment he saw you.

[Your name!] He called, striding towards you quickly.

“Newt!” You exclaimed, falling into his arms. The contact was intoxicating and you breathed him in deeply. Mint. Ginger. Cinnamon. Tears quickly burned the edges of your eyes. “I missed you, Newt. I missed you so much.”

“Mm, quite right too.” He whispered, and you felt his his lips against your hair, “I’m here. I’m home…with you.”

Newt leaned back, taking a long look in your eyes, “I brought you something.”

“You did not need to. You’re here. That’s enough.”

Newt smirked, holding out his hand, “Open it darling.”

You giggled. He had never called you darling before.

You pried his fingers open gently, relishing in the fact you were actually touching him. He was real. Skin and bone and breath. He was home.

A dainty golden ring was held in the center of his palm. 

Your eyes darted to his full of questions.

Newt chewed his bottom lip nervously, “I found it…in Paris. I thought of you. I thought perhaps…you might like to….wear it….until….. I can afford to purchase a real one.”

A real one? What was he saying?

Newt tilted his head and smiled lovingly as he took your hand into his, placing the ring upon your left hand, “Until I can properly ask you - to be my wife.”

Oh. OH! Your eyes grew wide as the realization of his words permeated your heart.

The blush on his cheeks matched your own.

“I…I love you, darling.”

That was all you needed to hear.

“I love you too, Newt.”

Newt wrapped you into his arms, kissing you lovingly as your hand rubbed the nape of his neck. When you finally parted you rested your foreheads together,  breathless, memorizing one another’s warmth.

“Well, I certainly did not expect that! I thought you brought me a Murtlap or something!”

“Oh trust me love, there’s plenty more where that came from.” He smirked, tapping his boot against the case. “Care to see?”

You nodded joyfully, “But let’s get you home first. I think a warm bath and hot cup of tea is in order.”

“Of course.” Newt beamed, taking your hand into his as you began to depart the platform.

You could not help but ask.

“When did you…fall in love with me?”

Newt blushed once more, “The lift. The first time you spoke to me. You asked me about Quidditch and I choked. I was so nervous. I had wanted to introduce myself since the very first moment I saw you.”

You laughed, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles affectionately, “When was that?”

“My first day.” He snickered, placing his lips on your temple, before kissing it.

“Took you long enough.” You winked.

“Yes, but it was worth the wait.”

Tag List:  @jackdawsonsgrl @fantasticnewtimagines @spn-applepie-imagines@mirkwoodshewolf@allyadarth@alina08@hiccuphaddockswife@accrosstheuniversse@withmycharacterstilltheend@johnnyssunset@allyadarth@barbarachern@demigodgirl91@agirlfallingforbooks@amazzle@newts-case-of-wonders @justwannasleep @newtsfantasticwitch

Prompt: “Okay, maybe I am a bit jealous”

Characters: Crowley x reader


Prompt came from THIS if you wanna send one in :)

Originally posted by supernatural-stuff-of-course

This latest case had proved to be a little difficult. You were hunting a group of vampires that had gotten a little too noticeable with their kills. But the problem was, you needed to draw out their leader, you know the whole cut of the snakes head and the body will flounder thing? Yeah, that was the plan. But the only way to draw him out was for you to be the bait. You matched the description of a majority of his victims, he had a type apparently. 

You walked into the club were you had tracked all the victims too. This had been the place they were all taken from. Looking around and spotting Sam and Dean at one end of the club and at the other end, Crowley. For some reason he had demanded to come, apparently he had a history with this vampire and wanted to see his end. Crowley was always a little dramatic. But for some reason he protested when you volunteered to be the bait. Which surprised all of you.

Walking around the club, dancing and flirting you were suddenly tapped on the shoulder buy a security guard. “My boss wants to meet you” you agreed and followed him up to a booth with a group of men, the one in the middle with the obnoxious gold chain, you were guessing, was the vampire your were looking for. He motioned for you to sit.

After a while he invited you up stairs to his, as he called it “palace”, you tried really hard not to roll your eyes at that one. After going up stairs he started putting the moves on you, this is when you got uncomfortable, you thought he would attack you immediately, but he wanted to do more before that. Just as he was trying to coax you out of your clothes, the door flew open and in came Crowley. He sauntered into the room and winked at you. “Crowley! What the fuck are you doing here?” the vampire said while walking towards him.

Oh nothing, just…helping a friend” he said as he pulled out a knife and chopped his head off he took out his handkerchief and wiped his face while turning to you “Hello love, miss me?

Crowley what the hell? I was dealing with it.” you walked up to him.

Yes, well….I didn’t want you to be up here alone with him. Who knows what unspeakable things he could have done.” he said turning from you.

Died Crowley, he would have died if he tried anything.” you rolled your eyes before realization stuck you, downstairs when you were sitting with the vampire, you glanced over at Crowley, you thought he was angry because he hated the vampire, but no it wasn’t that. “You were jealous.” you smiled at him and tried not to laugh at the King of Hell.

No!” he said while turning to you. You took a few steps closer to him,he glanced at your lips “Okay, maybe I was a bit jealous. Who wouldn’t want you on their arm at a place like this?” he said, now smirking.

Rolling your eyes, you were about to ask him why he was really jealous when Sam and Dean came in. Seeing the body they looked up at you two “You alright?” he asked you 

Crowley rolled his eyes as he turned to the boys “They’re fine, I took care of our vampire friend” turning back to you he winked “I’ll be seeing you later” he smirked at your confusion and disappeared. 

The Red Dress

Alexander x FEM!reader


Author: Lil Laddie

Words: 1935

Warnings: War, kinda cheesy

A/N: I know I don’t usually do gender specific readers, so I’m very sorry for that! This imagine is actually based off of how my grandparents met in World War II. I of course changed some things, but it’s very close to my heart. My grandpa would always tell us that he saw the prettiest woman he had ever seen in a red coat in New York Square and just had to meet her! He, like Alexander in this imagine, was about to be deployed to war. So, I hope you guys enjoy this imagine! Thanks for reading! Love ya!

“I’m just saying, this revolution will be worth it. Fighting for our freedom is not something we will regret.” Alexander told his friends as they strolled down the streets of New York.

“I could not agree any less, mon ami. I can’t wait to bring freedom to my own people!” Lafayette said, all his friends nodding.

“I can’t believe we’re finally going to fight tomorrow. We’re going to be one of Washington’s men.” John smiled at the thought.

“It’s going to be amazing! The four of us fighting for something, we have wanted for so long!” Hercules joined in, his broad grin unshakable.

“I can’t believe Alexander hasn’t gone into a full on rant yet.” John laughed, glancing at his friend beside him. He was not paying attention to a single word they said.

“Um, Alexander?” Lafayette asked, snapping his fingers in his face until he turned to look at them.

“Sorry, something just caught my eye…” He trailed off, looking back at the thing that had distracted him.

“What are you…OH! Looks like Alexander’s got his eye on a girl.” Hercules slapped Alexander’s back, laughing loudly enough to catch your attention.

Alexander felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you. You certainly stood out among the sea of women and girls walking around the town. You were dressed in a beautiful red dress in the midst of browns, blues and greens. He had never seen someone as beautiful or as intriguing as you were. He caught your eye for just a second before you quickly dropped your gaze, hiding a very prominent blush.

“She’s beautiful…” Alexander looked completely starstruck, shocking his friends. They had never seen him so…Helpless!

“Go talk to her.” John encouraged, nudging him slightly forward.

“I can’t do that! I’m leaving for the war tomorrow, I can’t just do that to her.” Alexander protested, his eyes still not moving off of you.

“You know some women find it very romantic to be writing a man at war during courtship.” Hercules stated, the others humming in agreement.

“Look at her, you think she’d want something to do with someone like me? I have nothing! No money, no title, no land. She deserves more than that and besides, she probably has someone in her life.” Alexander sighed.

“What makes you think she cares about all that? Plus, I don’t see a ring on that finger! She’s fair game.” Lafayette attempted to rise his friend’s spirits.

“You see her dress? She’s in the midst of woman in simple dresses and she is wearing a red dress made of much nicer fabric. Hercules can even back me up on this!” Alexander exclaimed.

“He’s not wrong. Then again we don’t know for sure if she truly cares about these things. Besides, what happened to not throwing away your shot?” Hercules smiled, knowing that that would get his friend’s attention.

“You’re right. What do I do?” He asked, his eyes filling with determination.

“Talk to her right now. Do not let her leave before you talk to her. Maybe get her to go on a walk with you. Then, she’ll want to write you. You can court over letters during the war and after, possibly get married. That’s the plan. Can you do it?” Hercules explained quickly.

“Yes, sir.” Alexander turned and began to approach you, who walked slowly with another young woman. He caught sight of a handkerchief on the ground and thanked the stars for his luck. “Excuse me, miss. Did you drop this?” He asked, holding out the handkerchief towards you.

You quickly searched yourself before blushing. “I believe so. Thank you, mister…” You trailed off.

“Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton. And your name, miss?” Alexander asked, holding his hand out for you to take.

“(Y/N) (L/N), Mister Hamilton. Thank you again for returning this.” You blushed as he gently pressed his lips to your hand. The two of you were completely enchanted with each other, forgetting the person that stood right beside you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Hamilton. I’m Angelica Schuyler.” Angelica interrupted the moment. You almost cursed her for it, until you saw a familiar smirk on her face. “I really must be going. I’m sorry that I can’t walk you home, (Y/N).”

“I could do it! It would not be right for you to have to walk by yourself, Miss (L/N).” Alexander immediately volunteered, Angelica’s smirk only widening.

“I believe that would be perfect. It was good to see you, (Y/N).” Angelica quickly hugged you before walking away quickly.

“Shall we?” Alexander asked, holding his arm out for you.

“We shall.” You gladly took his arm, guiding him towards the direction of your house. “Thank you for walking me, Mister Hamilton.”

“It’s a pleasure to do so, Miss (L/N). And please, call me Alexander.” He smiled at you.

“Then you must call me (Y/N).” You smiled back at him, you’re heart fluttering.

“Are you a supporter of the revolution, (Y/N)?” You almost didn’t hear the question he asked. Your focus being on how easily your name rolled off his tongue.

“Of course I am! My father is actually going off to war this next week.” You slightly shuddered at the thought of your father fighting in the war. It was for a cause you supported and knew to be good, but you didn’t understand why they couldn’t just talk it out instead of resorting to violence.

“What a coincidence. I am leaving to fight tomorrow.” Alexander said, you turned to look at him in shock.

“Tomorrow?” You asked, feeling the blood leave your face.

“Yes, tomorrow. Are you feeling well, (Y/N)? You just turned very pale.” Alexander stopped, studying your face with a concerned look.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” You looked away from him, blushing at what had upset you.

“It’s just what?” Alexander asked, the concern not leaving his face.

“This may sound childish, but we just met and I was hoping we could maybe…” You trailed off again, not daring to look at Alexander’s face. Too bad that meant you missed the smile that lit up his face.

“That we might court?” Alexander asked, his face bright and happy.

“Um, yes.” You looked at his smile and couldn’t help one to slowly grow on your face.

“I hoped for the same thing. I can write you during the war and when we get back we can truly court each other.” Alexander reassured you, the both of you turning to resume your walk with grins.

“I would enjoy that very much, Alexander.” You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice.

“As would I, (Y/N).” He said.

The two of you continued the rest of your walk talking about your likes and dislikes. You were very disappointed when you reached your house. This would be the last time you would seem him until after the war. Even then, there was still a chance that he wouldn’t return from the war.

“You will get a letter from me as soon as it is possible for me to send one. I hope you will write me back.” Alexander grinned, taking your hand in his kissing it once again very lightly.

“I hope I can wait that long to hear from you. I barely know you, yet it feels like my heart is already yours.” You blushed, your hand tingling from his touch. You waved goodbye to him and walked up the stairs to your house, seeing your mother and father watching from the window.

“Who was that?” Your mother asked in excitement.

“An extraordinary man. He’s leaving for the war tomorrow and wants me to write him while he’s away.” You smiled at the thought.

“She’s got it bad.” Your father smirked at your dreamy expression.


Through the long years of the war, you wrote Alexander daily. It was hard for you to hear the horrors he faced at war, but still each letter made your day as it did for Alexander. Everyone in camp could tell when Alexander had read your letter of the day due to his love sick expression. General Washington had began to tease him about it after a couple months into the war, the rest of the camp quickly joining in.

You also got plenty of letters from your father, claiming that Alexander was just as amazing as you had said he was. He told you on multiple accounts of how Alexander had saved the army from its own destruction. Your father wanted you to marry Alexander as soon as the war was over. Alexander agreed with his idea immediately. He couldn’t wait to see your expression after the war, when he was planning to tell you.

Each day you had the same process of running to meet the mailman and tearing Alexander’s letter open as soon as it was in your hands. This was, until you heard the cheers of people saying you had won the war. America was free and that meant Alexander was finally coming home. When this news reached you and your mother, you both had the idea. The two of you rushed to get ready for their arrival.

“(Y/N), quick! Put something nice on before Alexander get’s here. He will surely ask for your hand.” Your mother grinned, ushering you up the stairs.

You looked through your wardrobe in a hurry, not knowing what to put on. That’s when it caught your eye. The red dress you had worn when you met Alexander. The dress that had luckily caught his eye and his interest.

You put it on, hearing a knock on the door downstairs. You could hear your mother answer the door, welcoming Alexander into your house. Taking one last glance in the mirror, you ran down the stairs. Sure it was unladylike, but you could not wait to see Alexander again.

“Alexander.” You gasped at the sight of him, tears springing to your eyes.

“(Y/N).” He grinned, looking at the beautiful red dress that had brought them this far. “I see you thought of me when you choose that dress.” He smirked, slowly raising his arms out for a hug.

You laughed, running to his embrace. He held you tightly, the two of you not noticing the tears you both had streaming down your faces. Neither did you notice your parents in the corner of the room, watching the two of you with smiles.

“When are you going to tell her that I agreed to let you marry her as soon as possible?” Your father called out.

You looked between the two men in shock before pulling Alexander’s face to yours. He melted into it, the two of you clinging to each other as if your lives depended on it. You pulled away, panting slightly. Luckily your parents had left during the kiss, but you still couldn’t shake your shock. You were going to marry Alexander Hamilton. After years of writing him in the war, you were finally going to marry him.

“I love you.” You looked up at him, never wanting to look away.

“I love you too.” He smiled at you, “And I promise I’m never going to leave your side again. Those years at war were too long. I never want to be that far apart again.”

“Agreed.” You nodded, pulling him in for another kiss.

The years of the war had been long and painful, but they were finally over. You could finally be with the man you had grown to love, in a nation that was finally free.

Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 5 - First Fight

I have to admit that I’m shocked and a little bit proud of myself for managing five fics for this week so far. Will I have one for tomorrow? Not sure. Anyhoo, here’s a little fight-let… hehe, I crack myself up. Thanking the radiant @mizjoely for looking it over for me. Rated T for a naughty word. Enjoy ~Lil~ (On a side note, apropos to nothing, I’ve been singing some Adele tonight and KILLING it!)

-Impractical About Death-

Molly Hooper sat curled up in the corner of John’s sofa, crying and breaking his heart just a little.

“I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as it seems,” he said, trying to offer the woman some support.

Sniff. “I don’t know, John.” Sniff. “You didn’t see his face. I was awful.”


“It was my fault! Mine! Our first fight and I started it!”

Yes, that is slightly unbelievable. “Doesn’t matter who’s fault it is…”

Her head snapped up. “Of course it does! I’m buggering this all up. Me! Not Sherlock, me!”

John had watched the couple over the last five months, and he had also watched Molly slowly unraveling. He knew something was coming and that it probably wasn’t good. “Are you not happy?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

A moment passed as she stared across the room. “I’m waiting.”

“On what?”

“The other shoe.”

He sighed. “You can’t do that Molly. It’s not fair. You knew exactly who he was when…”

“No, you misunderstand, John. I’m waiting not for him to fail. I’m… afraid.”

“Of what?”

She sat up on the edge of the sofa, her elbows on her knees and said, “I’ve always been a very practical person. Mum died when I was seven, my dad when I was twenty. I’m surrounded by death. Normally I…” She paused, wiping her face with her sleeve. “But I finally found someone that I don’t think I can live without.”

He reached for her, rubbing his hand across her back.

“I’ve seen the things he does, John, what lengths he’ll go through to solve a case. He puts himself in danger without a thought.” Turning her face she added, “I-I don’t th-think…”

At that moment the kitchen door burst open and Sherlock strode into the room. “Give us a moment, John,” he said, his eyes firmly planted on Molly.

John got up and left without a word.

Sherlock had heard the entire exchange. It was underhanded, even he knew that, but he was completely out of his depth and had no idea what had set Molly off that morning. So he went to the only person who could help him figure out his relationship.

He knew who was knocking on John’s door, so he asked his friend not to disclose his location as he stepped into the kitchen. Then he listened to her heartbreaking words.

It really was completely unlike Molly to pick a fight about dirty clothes left on the floor; clearly the heart of the problem was something much larger. As he stood just behind the door, listening to the woman he loved explain her fears to his best friend, Sherlock made a decision.

Sitting down next to his girlfriend of just a few months, Sherlock pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

“Molly, do you want me to stop solving crimes?” he asked as she cleaned her face.

She looked up, horrified. “No! Of course not!”

“Then what do you propose we do about your anxiety over my mortality?”

With a defeated shake of her head she said, “There’s nothing we can do, Sherlock. I’m a neurotic mess. You’re not happy and I’m a wreck. I th-think it might be best if we… just forget this whole thing.” She smiled sadly. “We had some good times though, right?”

“You’re suggesting that we… break up?”

“What else is there?”

“Not giving up, for one thing!” He stood and paced across the room. He was more than a little shocked at her defeated attitude. “Molly… I’m… Yes, my job is dangerous. And yes, I tend to take unnecessary risks from time to time.”

Her eyebrow shot up as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Okay, I often take unnecessary risks. But it’s very unlike you to simply give up.”

Molly stood and crossed to him. “I watched you jump off a roof. I’ve seen you high off your arse five different times. I was the one in the back of that ambulance, Sherlock. I ran those tests. I visited you after Mary shot you. Then after you broke out of the hospital and nearly died again! I know what Smith did to you. I know that you were tortured whilst you were on your mission for Mycroft. I know everything! It plays like a fucking movie in my head.”

“What’s different now?” he asked calmly.


“What’s different, Molly?” She didn’t answer, so he continued, “You’ve always known those things and you’ve always loved me. So what’s different?”

He watched as her eyes filled with tears. Shaking her head she said, “I don’t… I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Sherlock smiled. “I do.” He put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer. “If I had died any of those times, you would have lost a friend, someone you cared for and even loved. And you would have mourned me. But now, you’d be losing a partner, a lover, your future…” He swallowed. “Well, we’re not quite there yet, but I think you get my meaning.”

She nodded. “How…”

“Because I fully understand. Losing you would break me, Molly.”

Burying her head in his chest, Molly sobbed, “I’m so sorry, Sherlock. The clothes don’t really bother me.”

He held her tight. “I know that, sweetheart.”

“You’re not a slob.”

“I sort of am.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Or an arsehole.”


She pulled away, looking him in the eyes. “Not to me, you’re not.” She looped her arms around his neck.

“That’s special treatment because I get to see you naked.”

Molly giggled and tugged his head closer. “Sorry I went a little nuts.”

“Are you kidding? You took the pressure off of me. I really thought I’d be the first one to screw up.”

Molly rolled her eyes then sobered. “I’ll try not to worry so much.”

“And I suppose I could be more careful. But I’m going to need more naked girlfriend to make up for missing out on all that danger.” Sherlock said with a huge smile before kissing his girl breathless.

Thanks for reading ~Lil~

anonymous asked:


always a good word with these two. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S BABY WARBLER!KLAINE!!!!! :D

blaaaah just spat this out really quickly in all my never-ending season 2 feels

(one word prompt thingy)

The Warblers are appropriately somber as the final notes of “Blackbird” ring through the council room, though no one seems to know what to say. In the ensuing silence, Kurt sniffles, tears pouring down his face and his voice tight when he says, “Thank you,” to the room at large. Everyone stays quiet for another beat or two, until Wes, looking at his folded hands on the desk, nods to himself and says, “A fitting farewell for our dearly departed Pavarotti.”

No one is looking at Kurt - not awkwardly, just politely, out of respect for his grief - but they all murmur in agreement with Wes’ sentiment.

Blaine, on the other hand, can’t stop looking at Kurt. He says nothing.

“Warblers, I think it’s only appropriate that we reconvene at tomorrow’s meeting,” Wes announces, banging his gavel with finality before standing up from the council table. “Kurt, please let the council know if you need anything.”

“That goes for all of us,” Nick adds.

Kurt thanks everyone again as they begin to file out of the room, but when he looks up, his eyes go directly to Blaine.

If Blaine speaks, he might just start babbling, or crying in sympathy, or worse. So he just breathes, trying to keep himself together in the wake of this… discovery? Revelation? Wake-up call? Whatever this is, it’s overwhelming, consuming all his senses as his mind, body, and heart finally seem to come to an agreement:


They are the last two in the room.

Kurt walks slowly towards him, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his “Blackbird” cassette tape before he slips it into his back pocket. He looks like an angel of death in a comic book in Blaine’s eyes, light and dark, elegant and beautiful in the way that lightning is elegant and beautiful. His sweet face is so sad, and still wet from crying, but he gives Blaine a soft smile when he reaches him.

“So… did we decide on the blazer piping issue for Sectionals? Did you even get it on the table yet, before I halted the proceedings?”

Blaine blinks, the question confusing in its distance from his current train of thought. What blazers? He couldn’t give two shits about a blazer right now. “I… uh.”

“I mean,” Kurt goes on, shrugging one shoulder and swiping delicately across his cheeks with the side of his hand, “I agree with you, that the Warblers could use a little shake-up. The issue is that the reversed color scheme just isn’t as aesthetically pleasing. Doing something different for the sake of it is usually a good thing, but not at the expense of style.”

“Uh. Here. “ Blaine hands Kurt a handkerchief from his bag, which Kurt takes with a grateful nod of his head before dabbing carefully under his eyes. “I… yeah.”

Kurt peers at Blaine from behind the handkerchief with a little frown. “Look, I know that was… a dramatic eulogy, for a bird, but I needed to do it. Pavarotti was important to me.”

“No, I – that’s not it. I’m just… having, um, a… a moment? It’s not–”

He can’t say, It’s not you, it’s me. It’s Kurt, all right. Everything is Kurt, and Blaine feels like an idiot for not understanding that sooner.


“That was perfect.” It’s the most honest thing Blaine can allow himself to say while the rest of his feelings are still tumbling around inside him. He has to adjust to this clarified sight.

“Oh. Well… thank you,” Kurt says, reaching out to hand Blaine his handkerchief.

Blaine gently pushes Kurt’s hand back towards him and says, “Keep it.” He notes, with a little jolt of pleasure, that Kurt clutches the tiny scarf against his chest with both hands like a token, smiling down at it for a moment before he looks back up at Blaine with those piercing, wet blue eyes.

Blaine isn’t sure this is the smartest thing to do in his current state, but he asks, “Do you want company? We could… watch a movie or something. Or… um, I don’t know.”

“Oh, thank you for the offer, but no. I need some time to myself now, if that’s all right.”

“Of course it’s all right, Kurt. Whatever you need.” Blaine’s heart aches for him.


“I’ll see you in the morning. Feel free to text me if you want.”

Blaine definitely wants. “Yeah. I’ll… see you.”

Kurt gives him a funny look, bemused by his awkward behavior, but he grins and waves the hand with the handkerchief in it as he leaves the room.

Blaine just stands there for a few more minutes, pressing his palms together in front of his face as the words for what he needs to express start to sort themselves out in his head.

He suddenly has a lot more to put on the council table than those silly blazers.

anonymous asked:

LP one day acting like a normal human being to the elgang and not an asshole, but then the next day he isn't with them, his trail leads an elgang member to his ransacked and abandoned home and he is found in his mother's greenhouse and caring for a lone flower which he then brings to a makeshift grave. LP sorrowfully sings 'Happy Birthday' to his deceased mother and whoever followed him comforts him.

Add almost threw what looked to be a bouquet of plants at Ciel’s disposal.  The demon looked at him in alarm, catching them with no trouble.

“The cookies won’t be done for another few minutes,” Ciel said.  “But thank you for the herbs.  I don’t remember requesting them.”

“It’s not the cookies,” Add said with harshness in his voice, but mumbled a thanks for the cookies that weren’t finished.  Ciel hummed in understanding, but when he looked up to say something to the brawler, Add was over at the kitchen sink talking to Rena.

She let the brawler hand her over a bag of vegetables from the opposite side of the counter and handed him a bowl of chopped celery and bits of peanut butter.
“Healthier option for snacks,” Rena beamed when Add looked at her in question.  Blinking at her, he huffed and pretended to be annoyed, but a rare smile found its way before he forced it back into a scowl.

“Where is he going?” Ciel asked when he disappeared.

Rena shrugged, “I saw him helping Raven with his Arm earlier today.  Maybe he’s doing the same with everyone?”

When did the brawler become this generous around them?  If this was any other person, he would have figured it was because he was influenced by everyone to be helpful, but this was Add they were talking about.  The same man who placed his machines over the rest of the group if it involved vital research on what he refused to reveal to anyone.  Not that they would understand.  When he went to knock on Add’s door later that day to deliver the cookies, the room’s occupant had gone missing.

Ciel wasn’t a full demon, but it wasn’t the cold that made him shiver when he saw the soulless eyes of fallen demons with unnatural looking cuts past midnight.  Following the trail of demons, he soon found himself at the edge of a ruined building.  Judging from the chipped porcelain and expensive silverware sticking out of the ground, it belonged to a wealthy person.  Standing in a pile of dead leaves was Add, moonlight washed over his pale figure with his back turned away.  The brawler leaning down with his hands almost touching the ground.

“Happy birthday, dear Mother…” Was he singing?  It took Ciel a moment to realize Add was tending to a flower.  Its petals were still new and barely opened, but it was recently watered with water droplets dripping down the stem.  He froze when Add stopped singing and straightened his back, turning around to look at him in the eye.

“Are you here to laugh at me?”

Ciel shook his head, “No.”

Add opened his mouth, but no words fell out.  Dozens of questions swirled in Ciel’s mind at everything he had witnessed.  A charred house with nothing left but dead leaves and broken pieces of china, melted plastic fused together, the flower being the only living thing – but all of that didn’t matter when Add sat down and began to cry silent tears.  He shook when Ciel placed a hand on him, but didn’t protest when the butler handed him a handkerchief to dab at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s your mother’s birthday, isn’t it?” Ciel asked, “Do you want me to make something for her?”

His eyes widened at the request, but Add breathed, “She likes strawberry cake.”

“I can work with that.” Ciel chuckled, “We can come here tomorrow night with the cake.” Add’s body shook and he only nodded in agreement to his suggestion, but mouthed a thanks to him that made him smile in sadness.


Written for Royai Week 2015. This is the last of my one-shots. Maybe one day I’ll write the remaining ones for the other RW prompts, but it’s not in my plans for now. I might change some of these titles though because some are really terrible and I just called them by the prompts.

Read on // Read on AO3

It was the last weekend in Central before Edward and Alphonse returned to Resembool. Besides, the newly promoted Brigadier General Mustang, now that he finally had his old team of subordinates back, would be heading for Ishval in a matter of days. Everyone had agreed on meeting at Roy’s apartment tonight, for one last gathering before they went their separate ways.

Dinner went smoothly: jokes, sarcastic remarks, anecdotes, a few insults that caused no harm, praise for accomplishments and offers of help and support in the future if needed.

As she drank her coffee, Riza looked over the cup and watched the Elric brothers. Edward was enthusiastically eating a piece of cake, but Alphonse looked distracted; he rubbed one of his eyes and turned his head to the opposite side of his brother. He may have hidden it from Edward, but Riza noticed the yawn.

When Breda made a pause on his retelling of a story of his academy days, Riza used the moment to interrupt.


The blonde boy looked at her, along with everyone else at the table.

“You seem tired. Do you want me to drive you back to your dorm?”

Edward turned to his younger brother immediately and frowned. “Al, why didn’t you tell me?” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s head back.”

Alphonse shook his head. “No, no. I’m fine, brother!” He grinned so widely that his eyes were closed when he spoke. “You’re having a good time; I don’t want you to miss it just because I’m a little tired.”

Riza smiled sweetly. “I can take you, Al, and Edward can join you later.”

Roy, who was sitting next to Riza and a little too close, touched her arm. “No need for you to leave, Lieutenant.” He turned his attention to the boy. “Alphonse, take my bed. Whether you wake up in an hour or stay until morning, I won’t mind. We’ll probably stay up all night.”

Alphonse stared at Edward. “What do you say, brother?”

Edward shrugged. “It’s alright by me if you want to, Al. But if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.”

He shook his head again. “Uh-uh.” Then, he said to Roy, “Well, if it’s no bother…”

“Of course not,” Roy answered amiably.

Riza stood up. “Come on, Al. I’ll show you to his room.”

With help from Edward, Alphonse stood up and used his cane to walk behind Riza. “Thanks, Lieutenant,” he said.

The two of them left the dining room and, while Riza helped Al to bed, the men continued talking.

“And so Rebecca and I are going to be officially dating when we come back from Ishval,” Havoc said proudly.

Ed brushed a side of his hair with his fingers and groaned with frustration. “Seriously, you said that like five times already. Don’t you have anything new to share?”

Havoc gasped, and then lit a cigarette as he replied, “Well, excuse me for being happy. You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend.” He put the cigarette in his mouth.

Fuery lifted an eyebrow. “But he does have one.” He turned to Ed and asked, “Aren’t you and Miss Rockbell together?”

Edward startled and blushed furiously. “What?! No, no, no!” He stood up and shook his arms in the air, crossing and uncrossing them at high speed. “We’re just friends! I don’t like her like that!”

Roy chuckled. “You should tell that to your face, you know?”

Edward sat back down, clearly ashamed and agitated. “Of course I’m going to blush if you’re going to suggest something like that about my childhood friend!” He sighed. “At least I’m better than someone who dates different women all the time with no shame.”

Roy leaned over the table and smirked. “You wish you could date such beautiful women.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about that. But one day, you’re going to actually love someone other than yourself and she will probably hate that attitude of yours.”

Roy relaxed in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Quietly, he said, “That’s some curious word you used there, Fullmetal. Do you honestly think I don’t love anyone?”

Edward blinked with confusion and lifted his chin. “What, you do?”

Falman coughed.

Very quietly, Fuery said, “Ed, don’t.”

Breda busied himself with another big piece of cake.

Havoc lit another cigarette.

Roy pursed his lips. “I’m surprised you ask, Edward. Everyone else here knows the answer to that, as you can see.”


Edward looked at the men. They were all nodding except for Fuery, who was wiping tears from his face.

Roy took a deep breath before speaking. “There is, in fact, one woman I love, Edward. I love her more than my own life, too.”

Edward listened with great interest, having not expected any reply of the sort.

“Tell you more,” Roy continued.

“Boss!” Havoc interrupted.

Roy ignored him. “She’s the only woman in this house right now.”

Riza sat down next to Roy.

Edward watched the scene agape. Aware of all the eyes on her, Riza simply took back her cup of coffee and drank the beverage again.

She made a face of disgust and left the cup on the table. “It’s cold.”

Edward gulped. “Uh, Lieutenant…?”

She looked at him. “Yes?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I asked Mustang about it. I don’t think he would have wanted you to hear—”

“Don’t worry, Ed. I already knew.”

“…You did?”

She smiled at Ed and nodded.

“Did… did he tell you?” he dared to ask.

Riza looked at Roy, her expression getting even softer, warmer. “It isn’t hard to see.”

Edward stared dumbfounded at the pair. The silence lasted for a whole minute. Roy was lost in Riza’s eyes; his expression serene and full of tenderness. It was obvious that he was totally in love with the woman at his side. Ed mentally kicked himself for not having noticed it earlier.

The awkwardness grew as the seconds passed, and Ed felt like just standing up, waking up his brother and getting out of there.

“Do you want to know, Ed?”

The older Elric looked at the person who talked to him. Riza was patiently waiting for a reply.

“Know what?”

“If I love the General.”

He started to sweat and talked nervously. “No, no, it’s none of my business, really. I mean, unless you want to tell me, but I’m not asking; not at all.”

“I do,” Riza said. “I do love him.”

Havoc had a lit cigarette in each hand. Fuery was weeping, failing miserably at trying to dry his cheeks with a handkerchief. Falman was reading a magazine he found nearby, and Breda served himself the last piece of cake.

Edward was speechless. He didn’t understand. How had he missed this for so long?

“But…” he said. “You’re not dating, are you?”

“Of course not,” Roy replied. “It is one thing to have this feeling for each other, but it’s against the military rules to act on it.”

Ed looked down. “So you can’t be together, even if you want to,” he concluded.

“Right,” Riza said.

He frowned sadly. “I’m sorry.”

She showed him a wry smile. “It’s alright, Ed. This is the life we chose.”

Edward was about to say something else, but Riza continued.

“But please,” she said, “do not talk about this to anyone. Our careers are at stake. This is very important, Edward.” Her tone got even more serious. “We’re trusting you with this information.”

Ed nodded, knowing better than thinking of ruining Roy’s and Riza’s lives with a simple slip of his tongue. “I promise I won’t tell.” He frowned. “But what about Al?”

Riza smiled. “You can tell your brother, Ed. But no one else, please.”

“You have my word, Lieutenant.”

Soon enough, the topic of conversation changed, and everyone else became talkative again. When it was time to leave, Edward went to the bedroom and woke up his brother. Falman and Fuery had left minutes ago, and Havoc would take Breda and the Elric brothers to their dorms. Riza said she would stay a little longer, just to help Roy tidy up the place.

By the time they were back and got ready for sleep, Edward had told Alphonse everything he missed at the table. The younger brother was happy to hear about Roy and Riza, and he couldn’t keep his grin off of his face as he changed clothes.

“Hey, Al,” Edward said. He was helping Al to lie down on his bed. “I know it’s great that Mustang and Hawkeye know that they love each other and all that, but there isn’t much to be happy about. They can’t be together after all.”

Al smiled. “I’m sorry, brother. You’re right. It’s just that…” He turned off the lamp on his bedside table. “Something weird happened when I went to sleep to the General’s room. I told the Lieutenant that the mattress was amazing; hard enough to help me keep a good posture, but still soft enough to be very comfortable.”

Ed got into his bed and lifted an eyebrow. “What’s so weird about that?”

Alphonse closed his eyes. “That the Lieutenant smiled at me and said, believe me Alphonse, I know.”


Buffon: ‘Shut up, go home and improve’

Juventus goalkeeper Gianluigi Buffon hits back at recent controversy - “shut up, go home and improve”.

Following the Bianconeri’s recent wins over Inter and Napoli, there has been outrage over refereeing decisions, and the Italy captain has called for an end to it.

“I’ve often found that questions from journalists or articles in the media are designed to create bad feeling or tense situations, to get under the skin of fans,” Buffon explained to Mediaset.

“In this case, no, the opposite happened. The media has been very good at relieving tension and we insiders must examine our own conscience.

“We need to do that because I’ve seen interviews which made me feel gruesome, creating controversies out of things which were almost non-existent.

“I can understand controversy over things which are true, but with these things you need to shut up, go home and improve.

“If you want to create non-existent incidents and wave the white handkerchiefs, that means you’re completely out of order and I can’t appreciate or respect you.”

King!Noctis reacting to S/O announcing pregnancy

Hey :3 it’s been forever, oh my. >.< I’ve been working on some stuff and this ended up being the next thing I decided to upload.

All other chocobros will follow within the next days! Due to the length I chose against squeezing them into one upload.^^

Edit: Gladiolus can be found here. Prompto can be found here. Ignis here.

For Noctis, I decided that it plays after the game. However, there are no spoilers in here (I think), so you should be fine even if you haven’t finished the game. [let me know if you think smth is a spoiler, pls.]

Genre: Fluff, no sadness, alternative ending, pregnancy announcement

Words: 2500+

The queen of Insomnia was nervous, incredibly nervous. For the past 6 years, they had been dating and about three years ago, he popped the question: Noctis proposed to her. There was no doubt she’d say yes. Everyone knew about their relationship, it was never a secret, to begin with. The entire nation eagerly awaited their engagement. Their wedding was enormous, every corner of Insomnia celebrated their relationship. Posters, cakes, special merchandise, a beautiful dress,… it was perfect. 

There was only one question that bothered both of them: When’s the next prince coming? Or will it be a princess? Is she pregnant?

Friends joked about it, especially Prompto, the news reported on it and whenever the queen was just a tiny bit bloated, they assumed she was pregnant. Rumors spread like wildfire. Unfortunately, they never were expecting.
It was quite common that the next heir was born either shortly after the wedding or conceived within the next months. But it’s been over three years by now. People even went as far as to doubt their marriage. Reporters spread fake news regarding split ups all the time. To stop those comments, the queen did her best to show public affection to her beloved whenever she could. But that wasn’t enough. 

Part of the nation still stopped believing in their relationship. Not once did they consider stress playing a big role in this.
The couple wanted nothing more than a baby, but that was easier said than done. 

(there’s a read more here)

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anonymous asked:

Can I request a scenario where Saitama and the reader were together before he started his training. But Saitama decided it would be best if they broke up cause he was worried for her safety. Then 3 years later they see each other again and he finds out that they too became a hero just to see him again? Sorry of this made no sense!

Don’t worry! You made perfect sense! :>> I hope you enjoy this scenario! (IT’S SUPER LONG!!!)

Word count: 5517

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“What a Soulmate Feels Like”

For @oqpromptparty

26. Cora didn’t get the sheriff but the real Robin on Regina’s birthday.

           Regina groaned when her mother returned to her rooms, grinning. It was never a good sign and usually meant that Regina was going to have to entertain someone her mother thought would help them but who usually just ended up boring Regina instead. “No, Mother,” she said. “Go away.”

           “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?” Cora asked, not flummoxed at all.

           “You’ve brought someone for me to meet,” Regina replied, still seated at her vanity. She wasn’t going to turn to face her mother. Maybe she would get the hint and leave.

           Cora nodded, leaning against her chair. “I have found him.”

           “Found who?” Regina asked, confused.

           “The man with the lion tattoo.”

           That caught Regina’s attention and she turned around, looking up at her Mother. “You did? Where?”

           “Does it matter? I found him and he’s waiting to meet you,” Cora said, pulling Regina to her feet. She looked her over and shook her head. “You can’t go to meet your soulmate looking like that.”

           Regina glanced down at her tight black pants, red leather corset and the long jewel-studded coat she wore over them. She frowned. “What’s so wrong with this?”

           “Just trust me.” Cora raised her hand and Regina was engulfed in the familiar cloud of her mother’s magic.

           Annoyance flared up inside her as she recalled all the other times her mother had changed her outfit into something she deemed more appropriate. It was no doubt going to be something Regina would never choose for herself and pulled too tight to give her a tiny waist as well as a bigger bust. She was probably also going to find her feet shoved into shoes that were a size too small to boot.

           When the cloud died down, Regina gasped. It had been years since she had worn a ballgown as delicate and bright as the one her mother had changed her into. The sleeves were off her shoulders, showing off her cleavage without it being overbearing, and the entire dress was a beautiful light blue color she had favored when she was younger. In fact, when she turned to face the mirror, she glimpsed the girl who wanted to run off with the stable boy rather than the Evil Queen, especially with her hair down and curled around her shoulders.

           “I believe you liked this color,” Cora said, placing her hands on Regina’s shoulders. “You look beautiful.”

           “I can’t believe you remembered. Actually, I didn’t even think you knew,” Regina said, her walls crumbling.

           Cora turned her to face her, cupping her chin. She smiled. “Of course I knew, Regina. I know I was overbearing and perhaps didn’t listen to you enough, but I paid attention. I knew your favorite doll was Isabella, I knew you preferred apple pie over cherry pie and I knew your favorite color was blue.”

           Tears pricked Regina’s eyes. “Mother…”

           “Now, now,” Cora said, conjuring up a handkerchief and dabbing at Regina’s eyes. “You don’t want to ruin your makeup.”

           “Why did you do this for me?” Regina asked.

           Her mother smiled, squeezing her arms gently. “I told you. I want to change things between us. I can’t bring back Daniel but I have brought you the man with the lion tattoo. Who, by the way, is called Robin.”

           “Robin.” Regina let the name roll around her tongue and she found she liked it. “Robin.”

           Cora nodded. “Now go. He’s waiting for you by your apple tree.”

           Overwhelmed, Regina hugged her mother. “Thank you, Mother. I really do appreciate this.”

           “I’m glad,” Cora replied before letting go of her daughter. She gave Regina a gentle push. “Go. Be happy.”

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A/N: So Jules got me to fill a request for them and it was challenging, but definitely interesting! I changed up the request a bit, but I hope it’s still kind of what you wanted. Buckle up, ‘cause things are about to get interesting 😈

“When you open your requests again you should definitely make an imagine about how you’re James’s daughter and he’s super over protective (people will look at you and he’ll snap, guys look at you and he’ll kill them). You finally get a boyfriend and he kills him but it’s in the hotel so he’s stuck there 😂”

Hope you enjoy!

Words: 4K+


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White Flag

Anonymous request for SpencerxReader prank war.

I had taken to being very, very careful at work. I mean, sure I hunt down dangerous criminals every day, but that’s not why I need to take extra precaution. It’s not the criminals. It’s Spencer Reid.
It started out innocently enough. A fake spider on my desk that resulted in a fake cockroach in his coffee mug. But then, it escalated. Slowly, at first, like the time the wheels were pulled off of my chair and I couldn’t move it, or when I glued his file folders shut.
Then came the foam in my keyboard.
That’s when I replaced the sugar with salt, knowing Spencer uses obscene amounts of sugar in his coffee.
That one was fun. Spencer came through the bullpen with his first cup of coffee and sat down at his desk, taking a long, slow sip. I watched his face in delight as his features contorted and he threw his hand over his mouth, forcing himself to swallow.
“Ugh. God, (Y/N), don’t you think messing with a man’s coffee is pushing it too far?” He asked, coughing.
“Don’t you think that messing with a woman’s keyboard is pushing it too far?” I mocked. Spencer just shook his head as he stood up to get rid of the coffee.
I was on my guard after that, but Reid didn’t do anything in the following few days. That only served to make me more nervous.
“I don’t get it,” I complained to JJ, glancing furtively at the genius across the room, focusing intently on the file he was reading.
“Don’t get what?” She asked.
“Reid,” I answered. “He hasn’t gotten me back for the salt prank.”
JJ just laughed.
“(Y/N), you do know what the whole prank war thing is about, right?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He’s flirting with you,” she said. “He just doesn’t want to overstep. It’s your move at this point.”
I thought about what she said and glanced back at Spencer.
“Okay,” I said with a nod. I went over to Spencer and smiled at him.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied. I dropped a white handkerchief on his desk and he looked between it and me, looking confused.
“What’s this?” He asked.
“White flag,” I replied, perching on the edge of his desk.
“A truce?” He asked. I nodded.
“Why?” He asked. I shrugged slightly.
“There’s something better on the other side,” I said with a small smile.

Touchy feely

Requested by @ladykaaesienofgondor  , based off this imagine . I never stop at 500 words, yeah. 

Imagine caressing Boromir’s beard.

The last stitch. You cut off the thread and looked at your work with a critical eye. 

Not bad. 

It was not the first time you had to practice your sewing skills on people rather than fabrics, so the seam turned out quite decent. There was even some hope it would leave no scar. It could have been even better, if you had had your hands on the wound as soon as the Fellowship had set the camp here.

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