there are things i want done to me with those hands that i shall never speak of

A brazen challenge

Synopsis: Imagine admitting to Loki that you never manage to orgasm when are with men, making him smirk mischievously in response.

“Is that a challenge, my dear?”

So for the next couple of hours, he magically locks the two of you in your room and makes it a challenge as to how many times he can make you cum in a row. He pleasures you with his soft hands, his skilled and long fingers and his silver tongue before he fucks you roughly.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 4040
Warnings: smut. a lot of smut.

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Inexorable (1)

So I thought, why not combine that shit and make it a mini-series or something? I really hope you two anons enjoy it! No idea how many parts there will be. We shall see. Gif isn’t mine, cred goes to the owners! 1,560 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, a little crack, (Eventual) Smut, Mafia au!

Part 1 | Part 2

Everyone’s heard of blind dates – never of blind marriages, not even in the mafia world. Yet, here you were, walking down the aisle, your hand latched onto your father’s arm, towards a young man you had never seen before. 

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to him, let alone this being the first time you actually got to see his face. There was so much rage bubbling inside you at the moment, but it was all hidden behind a small smile.

Combining two mafia organizations together was a huge deal; something bosses usually agreed on with the exchange of girls, but considering Red Python was one of the most powerful organizations in the country, they wouldn’t want just any girl. They wanted a suitable bride for the heir of said organization.

And your father, being the great, generous man he was, suggested you.

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Not-Date

Pairings: T’Challa x F!Reader, Tony x Science

Request:

hi can you write something that the reader is watching harry potter WITH tchalla in secret and EVERYONE finds out and ship it - and then tchalla confess his love for her in a harry potter way like “muggle in the streets but a wizard in the sheets” PLEASE, I LOVE YOU i know that is a little cliché BUT t'challa is everything to me meow 😻 BYE 😺 


Bucky has created a chatroom.

Bucky has invited Y/N.

Bucky: Tell Thor to hand over Mjolnir!

Sam has joined the chat.

Sam: I WANT HIS CAPE, Y/N.

Thor has joined the chat.

Thor: Lady Y/N, please save me from these men!

Bucky: GIVE IT

Sam: GIVEEEEEEE

Thor: Absolutely not!

Bucky: Scared I might actually be worthy? Maybe I can lift Mjolnir. Since my hand is no longer organic, maybe the elevator rule applies to me.

Sam: Damn, I’ve never thought about that.

Thor: That is nonsense!

Sam: Can I have your cape now?

Thor: Why do you want it?!

Sam: it is warm, i am cold.

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Pride and Prejudice, and Consent

Time to cleanse the palate with a bit of positive relationship analysis!

One of the tropes that plagues, and has plagued, romance fiction ever since the invention of the novel is the idea of female consent not being necessary as long as the male is desirable and/or really wants her. Often, the heroine will succumb either to her own desires or his, whether she is entirely willing to do so or not, and that is framed as being analogous with passion—even love.

Well, two hundred years before Fifty Shades of Grey played fast and loose with consent issues, I present to you the antithesis of this trope in Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice, receives two proposals of marriage that are eerily similar, despite the outward differences of her two suitors. Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy both spring unexpected and unwelcome proposals of marriage on her, calling to light her family’s lack of financial security and connection, seeing themselves as condescending to offer for her, and being completely perplexed by her refusal to accept them.

Elizabeth to Collins: You could not make me happy, and I am convinced I am the last woman in the world who would make you so.

Elizabeth to Darcy: I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.“

Elizabeth’s words leave no ambiguity for either gentleman: she soundly rejects them both in a similar fashion. From this, readers may infer that since Darcy and Elizabeth end up together, it is Darcy who is persistent in his romantic intentions after Elizabeth has said “no.” But in fact, it is Collins who refuses to take no for an answer, and Darcy who never oversteps his bounds.

The first thing Collins says after he hears her rejection is that she cannot be serious in her refusal. 

 "I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”

So elevated is his own sense of self-worth that she has to explain to him that she did, in fact, mean what she said:

  “Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal.”

What is the result? Collins still doesn’t take no for an answer, again:

  “Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins very gravely – “but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say.”

And again:

  "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.”

  “Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some warmth, “you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one.”

And again:

   "You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: – It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into farther consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.“

   ”I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretension whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.“

And again:   

"You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.”

In fact, Collins only stops pursuing Elizabeth when her father puts his foot down and backs her refusal. Pride and Prejudice is a comedy, and so the tone is light on the surface, but beneath the satire is a very real, earnest desire to communicate how often women’s words—even their consent—are dismissed as fickle or inconsequential. Seeing our heroine not fleeing dramatically from a villain, but pursued by an entitled man who doesn’t take her words seriously, we feel Elizabeth’s sense of outrage and how belittling it is for Collins to act this way.

By contrast, though we might imagine a love interest like Darcy to be overcome with passion and try to make her his own by any means, Darcy is remarkably restrained and respectful without ever losing his ardent love for the woman he wants to marry. The first divergence of his response from Collins’ occurs right after he has been rejected:

   "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.“

The wording here is important. He doesn’t demand that she explain why she rejected him, but rather why she was so impolite about doing so (since he has no knowledge of her dislike of him). He continues to be honest about his objections to her family’s behavior and place in the world, and to be angry at her for defending the duplicitous Wickham, but he never tries to convince her that she was wrong in rejecting him, even though he still views her as a social inferior.

After their heated conversation, Darcy leaves with an apology that he has occupied her for so long:

   "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

This is a far cry from Collins following Elizabeth around after the proposal and trying to go over her head to her parents for support.

But wait—doesn’t the love interest write Elizabeth a letter, convincing her to give him another chance?

No. Both Darcy’s letter and its method of delivery are respectful of Elizabeth’s boundaries and her refusal of him.

It should be noted that an unmarried gentlewoman receiving letters from a man she was not engaged to resulted in scandal if it were ever exposed. If Darcy had wanted to compel Elizabeth to marry him, he would only have had to deliver the letter publicly, or through the post. Instead, he delivers the letter in person, when they are alone in a park and there is no chance of discovery. It is still a bit of a risk, though, and so he asks (not demands) that she read it:

“Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?“

Right from the beginning, Darcy reassures Elizabeth that he is not trying to impose on her or get her to accept him after she has made her wishes clear:

 "Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. 

While it is more than apparent that her rejection stung and he is still in love with her, he never brings up the subject of the proposal again—the contents are a defense of the charges she had laid against his character, as well as a warning against Wickham for her own safety. He doesn’t ask for a second chance or demand she reconsider her words, even in light of this new information. Moreover, he trusts her with the knowledge of his sister’s near-elopement with Wickham (which could cause a scandal if discovered), thus risking as much by delivering the letter as Elizabeth does by accepting it. In every way, he trusts her judgment and keeps her wishes in mind.

When they meet again at Pemberley, Darcy is trying to reform his behavior. He is cordial to her tradesman uncle and aunt, and has divested himself of the haughtiness that prevented her from seeing his true worth initially. Darcy does not give himself permission to pursue Elizabeth as a result of this change in character; it is only after they have met and talked cordially that he asks her, not to speak with him alone, but to meet his sister. In fact, he resists making romantic overtures for the duration of the visit, which ends abruptly when Elizabeth discovers her sister’s elopement with Wickham. And even there, when she and Darcy are accidentally alone during her distress, he makes no move to use the occasion as an excuse to “comfort” her with his advances. His reaction is, in fact, quite the opposite:

 "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern.”

Another opportunity arises for Darcy to compel Elizabeth to marry him, this time out of gratitude. Unable to see Elizabeth so wretched, he finds Lydia and Wickham in London and, at great expense, convinces them to marry. He saves not only her sister’s reputation but that of her entire family. Yet rather than use that as an example to Elizabeth of what a good person he is, he forbids her aunt and uncle from mentioning that it was he who saved the Bennets’ good name. Elizabeth doesn’t even know he was involved until Lydia thoughtlessly gives the game away (after she, too, was sworn to secrecy).  

How then, do Lizzy and Darcy get together? It is Elizabeth herself who gives Darcy a reason to believe her opinion of him has improved. During a verbal duel with Darcy’s formidable aunt, she comes out the winner and point-blank refuses to give Lady Catherine a promise not to pursue Mr. Darcy. Lady Catherine petulantly tries to cut the problem off at the source by relating everything to her nephew. It works about as well as you’d expect.

 But, unluckily for her ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.

   "It taught me to hope,“ said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”

What prompts Darcy to renew his offer of marriage is nothing more or less than evidence that Elizabeth had seen his change of heart and accepted it.

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once.My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”

Above is Darcy’s second proposal. After hearing her first rejection, he takes her at her word, respectfully gives her information that might have led her to mistaken conclusions about him, leaves even before he is asked to, reforms his own behavior, never takes advantage of their being alone to make unwanted advances, assists her and her family without taking any credit, and once he has seen enough signs to think she might accept him, renews his offer once and only once. If she says no again, unlike Collins, he will not continue to pester her or seek her out. He will not try to convince her that her decision was wrong. It is a sad statement on society that this is a remarkable thing, no less in the real world than in fiction, and all too prevalent in heroes of romance even two hundred years later. There is no shortage of love interests who mistake passion for permission, conflict for consent, and adversity for flirtation—but there is also no excuse for this to continue, particularly now. If a novel published in 1813 can understand the letter and spirit of consent, I think we can do better in our own time.


EDIT: Continued here.

anonymous asked:

idk if this has been done but how about mc lyric pranking the rfa+v+saeran? can be sfw or nsfw!

Saeran: Little Did You Know by Alex and Sierra 

You: Little did you know...

Saeran: Don’t tell me you ate my ice cream. 

You: How I’m breaking while you fall asleep, Little did you know… 

Saeran: Muffin, what are you talking about? Tell me, please remember no secrets between us 

You: Im still haunted by the memories…. Little did you know I’m trying to pick myself up piece by piece…

Saeran: Look I know I don’t deserve you okay but please tell me how can I help you because (y/n) you helped me pick up my pieces please babe please let me know how to help you… your scaring me…

You: Underneath it all, I’m held captive by the hole inside, Ive been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind…. 

Saeran: Please.. don’t tell my.. my biggest fear is coming true… please.. noo.. lets talk about this when I get home… please..

You: Im ready to forgive you but forgetting is a harder fight 

Saeran: NO PLEASE NO IM SORRY PLEASE (Y/N) IM SORRY PLEA-

You: COOKIE IM SORRY ITS JUST A SONG I LOVE YOU… I ATE YOUR ICE CREAM IM SORRY… 

Saeran: @$#%! HDFGJQN GD^!*@ 

Jumin: Ego by Beyonce 

You: Aw, baby, how you doing? You know I’m gonna cut right to the chase, huh? Some women were made But me, myself? I like to think that I was created For a special purpose, You know? What’s more special than YOU? You feel me?

Jumin: Continue Kitten

You: It’s on, baby let’s get lost, You don’t need to call in to work ‘cause you’re the boss, For real, want you to show me how you feel, I consider myself lucky, that’s a big deal, Why

You: Well, you got the key to my heart, But you ain’t gonna need it, I’d rather you open up my body, And show me secrets you didn’t know was inside, No need for me to lie

Jumin: Keep going my love, you have my full attention *he exits the limo* 

You: It’s too big, Its too wide, its too strong, it won’t fit, its too much, it’s too tough, You got a big ego, such a huge ego, I Love your big ego..

*you hear the door open and then you felt your back lightly hit the couch* 

*You see jumin licking his lips and suddenly you felt his hot breath tickling your neck* 

Now now my kitten, lets see you stroke *grabs your hand and puts it on his crotch* this ego and lets make it fit shall we? 

Seven: Acquainted by The Weekend 

You: Baby you’re no good, caused they warned me bout your type, got me ducking left and right

Seven: You got that right ;)

You: You got me touchin on your body, to say that were in love is dangerous, but seven I’m glad we’re acquainted 

Seven: Really having my d**k in your mouth means that we are just acquainted.. WE ARE NOT EVEN FRIENDS. I THOUGHT WE WERE DATING. FINE IF YOU DONT APPRECIATE ME.. ILL FIND SOMEONE WHO DOES!! I AM HURT THAT YOU DEGRADED EVERYTHING WE HAVE TOGETHER 

Seven: Oh and if I was you, I would pick a song that we didn’t fuck to :) love you see you in 10 mins!! 

V: Gotta Catch em All - Pokemon Theme Song 

You: I want to be the very best, like no one ever was 

V: Hello my precious angel :) I hope you can accomplish your dreams and be the best in your field! Know I love and support you always! 

You: To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause! 

V:  …… 

You: I will travel across the land, searching far and wide!

V: Teach Pokemon to understand!!!! The power that’s inside!!!! Pokemon, (gotta catch them all) its you and me!!!!!!! I know its my destiny!!!!

You: Pokemon, (gotta catch them all) its you and me, I know its my destiny
Pokemon, oh, you’re my best friend!!!!! In a world we must defend, Pokemon, (gotta catch them all) a heart so true!!!Our courage will pull us through

V: YOU TEACH ME 

YOU: AND I TEACH YOU!! 

V: POKEEMOOONN

YOU: POKEEEMOOOON !! I never would of that the amazing, carefree, would know the Pokemon theme song! I never knew you liked those stuff :

V: I like to be a bit mysterious… it goes with me.. Me and Jumin use to battle each other all the time..We still do…. I started with popplio.. he started with Rowlet… 

You: Dont fuck with my litten.

Yoosung: Burn by Usher 

You:  Its going to burn for me to say this but its coming from my heart 

You: It’s been a long time coming, we da been fall apart 

Yoosung: Baby do you need me to call an ambulance!! ARE YOU AT THE APARTMENT A HEART BURN SOUNDS SERIOUS 

You: I really want to work this out but I don’t think you’re gonna change

Yoosung: Have I done something wrong? :( I know you are out of my league, I hear my classmates whispering how can a pathetic guy like me have someone so beautiful as you :( 

You: I think its best we go our separate ways… 

Yoosung: I always dreamed of this day coming.. first… sally left… then Rika… and now you… I… respect your wishes (y/n).. can you please.. just wait till my last class is over? May I have permission to buy you your favorite flowers and food because if this is going to be my last time seeing you, I want to have a good memory of you….

You: *dies* *guilt* *his heart shattered* *your heart is shattering* YOOSUNG IM SORRY IT WAS A JOKE A LYRIC PRANK IM SORRY!!! YOU KNOW IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!! IM SORRRY 

Yoosung: WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO PLAY WITH MY HEART WHEN YOU KNOW ITS YOURS *SENDS CRYING EMOJI*

Zen: Pullin me Back by Chingy 

You: Every time I try to leave….something keeps pulling me back, Telling me I need you in my life

Zen: What do you mean ‘leave’. Define it and use it in a sentence. 

You: It was meant to be, You were meant for me, So that means we gotta make it work

Zen: I am legit confused. This is worse than an unpolished script. So you want to break my heart but then you want to make it work. We are talking about this when I get home. Im leaving practice right now. Just look at a picture of me and just remember all the good times we have. Please. 

You: It was all good at first, Spending money, going shopping, Eating at the finest restaurants,And then from club hopping

Zen:  So when you think and see a picture of me, all you think is materialistic things! REALLY! Wow, Jaehee was right about you, you were just using me. I’ll help pack your things when I get to my house. Thanks for breaking my heart. 

You: NO HYUN PLEASE IT WAS JUST A PRANK YOU KNOW I WOULD NEVER DO THAT PLEASE HYUN FUCK BABY PLEASE IM SORRY LOOK UP THE LYRICS AND YOU WILL SEE THAT ITS FROM A SONG AND AND BABY PLEASE 

Zen: *sends winks face selfie* Cute how my acting skills even work on you ;) I love you too baby, don’t ever think about messing with me ;) 

Jaehee: Come and Get It by Selena Gomez 

You: You ain’t gotta worry, its an open invitation 
Jaehee: Did you open my mail? 
You: I’ll be seating right here, real patient, All day all night, I be waiting standby 
Jaehee: Please (y/n) don’t stay up for me, Mr. DickHead has me working over time :( I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me :( 
You: Can’t stop because I love it, hate the way I love you, All day, all night, maybe I’m addicted for life, no lie.
Jaehee: You speak beautiful words hehe *3* thank you for making hell more bearable :) 
You: I’m not too shy to show I love you, I got no regrets. I love you much, too much to hide you, this love ain’t finished yet.
Jaehee:  What do you mean show me……. 
You: *sends nude* 
*jaehee in the office* 

Originally posted by kaaatana

A Certain Elegance

@gdesertsand made an awesome mafia!au and felt inspired to write this scene. They made an ask blog about it @ask-mafia-lance-salazar. Go check it out!


“Lance. Come in, Lance.“ Shiro’s commanding voice rang in his ear.

“What’s up, boss man?“ Lance answered with a casual tone that always annoyed most of the paladins.

“Where the hell are you, Lance?“ As if on cue, Pidge snapped at him in their comms.

Lance grinned at the Galra soldier he managed not to kill during his infiltration in one of the control rooms. He shot both of the Galra’s knee caps just to be sure the alien won’t run away from him, and for the sake of precaution, Lance decided to tie the Galra up in one of the metal chairs in the room. And because he felt like it, he stuffed the Galra’s mouth with some cloth he cut out away from one of the fallen Galra soldiers on the floor. 

“I’m in one of the control rooms, Pigeon, cool your jets.” Lance whispered. “I’m a bit outnumbered but I can handle a couple of Galra soldiers on my own.” He even panted for added effect. They had to believe that he’s a little preoccupied so they’ll leave him alone, so he can do what he was known for back on earth.

“Are you sure, bro? I’ll be there in a few minutes if you need some assistance.“ Hunk, the bestest friend he could ever have, asked.

“Nah man, I can handle a few of these aliens. Besides, you and Keith have a mission. Protect the mullet head, yeah?“ Lance continued to whisper, shooting a few blasts from his bayard to sell his story even more. “I gotta go, guys, I think I just got found out.“ Lance pressed a button on his helmet which cut off his frequency away from the team. It was an altercation he made himself and no one seems to mind not hearing from him, so Lance figured why not.

“Now, we’re alone.“ Lance took off his helmet and placed it on the control board. He shook his head and massaged his scalp, his hair finally out of the confines of hi sweaty helmet. He made his way towards the Galra soldier who glared at him, yellow eyes glinting. “Comfy?”

The Galra mumbled against the gag in its mouth. Lance simply took another chair and sat in front of the tied up alien that was his prisoner at the moment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lance reached forward, “Ooh what is this?” He brushed his fingers against the Galra’s pelvis, which made the Galra groan and saliva dripped past the alien’s lips, and took hold of a hilt of a blade.

“I didn’t know you have one of these.” Lance inspected the wicked sharp blade, the black and violet surface catching the light, giving it an eery glow. He wielded the blade from side to side just like what his older brother taught him, slicing the air with finesse and speed. The Galra stared at him, not believing the way lance wielded a bladed weapon. 

“You must be wondering where I learned to do this.” Lance continued to slash at the air but he was now slicing closer and closer to the Galra’s blown up knees. 

“Wanna know a secret?” Lance leaned forward, his hands on either side of the Galra’s head, caging the alien. 

“I’m a Salazar.” 

Lance smiled, a smile he rarely used these days. This smile was the kind of smile he only wore when he’s at home, where violence and mind games were raw, there is where he thrived and showed his colors. The smile- a predatory show of teeth- he always wear when things are about to get messy and go Lance’s way. It was a the Young Demon’s smile.  

Lance sighed in relief. There was something liberating from saying his family’s name, something every Salazar needs to be proud about. It’s like he never left the vast household that was his home.

“That name may mean nothing to you, but back on Earth?“ Lance languidly played with the knife, mere inches away from the Galra’s face. “The mention of that name can make grown men tremble in fear. But I guess here in outer space, the Salazar name doesn’t hold that much weight. I’d like to change that.“ He swiped the blade against the Galra’s face, drawing blood.

“Shall we begin?”


“I repeat,“ Lance situated himself between the Galra’s legs, the knife slicing through the Galra’s purple fur, digging deeper and deeper as he dragged the knife across the alien’s chest, “the Champion was captured with two other humans, one was even brought to the fighting pits. Where are they?“

“I have told you over and over again, Blue Paladin, I do not know! Please, please, I do not know. Please believe me.“ The Galra, Joras, begged. His yellow eyes were dull and wet with tears.

“I want to believe you, Joras, believe me I do.” Lance stopped his slicing and sighed at the alien. It’s time, he thought. Lance laid his hand against Joras’ cheeks with enough tenderness to calm a frightened lamb before the slaughter.

Joras nuzzled against Lance’s palm. Hook, line, and sinker.

“But I checked your credentials, Joras. You are one of the major generals in the Galran forces. You were the one in charge of the Champion when he was in the fighting pits.“ Lance wiped the tears that were flowing down the Galra’s furry cheeks, and cupped Joras’ face with his hands. “So you are either lying to me or you take me for a fool.“

Lance looked at the Galra in disappointment and frowned. He leaned in and kissed one of the slices he made on Joras’ cheek. “Which is it, Joras?”

“I-I…“ Joras refused to look at the Blue Paladin, confused on what to say.

“I get it. Really I do.“ Lance lifted his leg and placed it on Jora’s side, straddling the alien who spluttered when Lance sat comfortably on Joras’ lap. The earlier venom in Lance’s voice as he cut through Joras’ skin was gone and was replaced by a warm, velvety smooth tone that washed away Joras’ fear. Small comforts, he thought. “Most people take me for a fool, and I don’t blame them for it. I suppose it’s my fault for letting them think of me that way.“

“No! I take you not for a fool!“ Joras didn’t know what came over him for suddenly exclaiming what he was thinking, but the frown on the Blue Paladin’s face was gone which urged him to speak more. “You have successfully infiltrated this control room, one of the most secured control room in this ship. You have killed all of my soldiers who were the top of their class and was handpicked by me. And you have me between your legs, Blue Paladin, you have me bruised and bleeding, begging you to have mercy on me. You are no fool.” 

Lance didn’t expect Joras to break easily that’s why he took his time with him. He remembered his brother saying: “There’s so much more to torture and acquiring information, little brother. It’s not just punching, slicing, and stabbing- though those methods get the job done. There’s a certain elegance to it.” At first he didn’t understand what he meant, but as time went by, he started to understand the intricacies of torture.

Lance learned that pain was only one of the methods you can use to break people. There were other means to make people talk, his brother stated as he typed in his laptop. And he found out that the best and full proof plan of action was to mentally and emotionally break them. Lance learned that pain and blackmail can only take you too far, that harming or intimidating a person doesn’t make them break. So Lance found a new method of torture, a method that works in his favor.

“Thank you, Joras.“ The Young Demon smiled. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I need to know where they are. “ Lance cupped Joras’ face and tilted it up so he can meet his eyes. “These people, they’re important to me. Don’t you want to make me happy? Don’t you want me to smile again?“

He can see the hesitation in Joras’ yellow eyes. He was there, he’s on the midst of breaking, he just needs a little push. 

“Please don’t make me hurt you. I hated hurting you, Joras.“ 

The best way to break people was to make them care. Make them give a damn about themselves, about you, about your purpose. It doesn’t matter as long as you involve them in the process, make them feel that you care about them too. So that’s what Lance did.

Every time he sliced Joras’ skin, he apologized. When he punched him in the gut, he had to explain why he was doing it. When he buried his finger in the hole he made on his knees, Lance expressed reluctance to do it. He made the Galra feel that he was forced to do this, that it wasn’t his choice to hurt him. He made him believe that by sharing what he knows, he’s stopping the hurt that’s inflicted on them both. Lance made him care.

“Data pad.“ Joras whispered, “I promise you I do not know the people you speak of, but with my data pad and my clearance, you can search through the prisoner database from the time the Champion was captured to when he escaped.“

“Really?“ Joras nodded. He was clearly relieved when lance put away the knife but there was tension in Joras’ shoulders. “See that wasn’t so hard was it? All I wanted from you was information. I never wanted to hurt you, Joras, you should know that. “

Lance stood up to fish out the data pad from Joras’ suit. He turned it on and was not surprised to see that it doesn’t have a password. He was far from understanding the Galran alphabet but he was pretty sure their resident techy can figure it out. He placed the data pad inside his body suit’s pocket and went for his helmet.

“Thank you for your help, Joras. Really, thanks a lot. I know this may sound cruel but know that I have the right intentions in mind. Do you want me to kill you?“ He didn’t put on his helmet just yet. He simply held it in his hand while his other hand fiddled with his bayard. 

Joras looked at him funny, but his shoulders were trembling again.

“I know you know what’s coming to you. Zarkon doesn’t appreciate snitches, just look at what happened to Thace. And what’s worse, Zarkon will just dispose of you like you were nothing. He will erase all of the things you have done in service to the empire, let people remember you as a traitor.“ Lance gave all that he had to not laugh right in front of Joras’ face. The strong and mighty Galra he met moments ago was now broken, shaking and scared. 

“But if you die now, die on my hands, I can make it painless. I will let the entire universe remember you as the Galra who helped the Blue Paladin rescue the humans that ended the war against Zarkon. You will die a hero, Joras, don’t you want that?“

Lance already knew the answer but still he waited for the Galra to give his consent. It was the least he can do.

“You will make them remember me as a hero?“

“Yes, Joras. And even more.“

Joras looked dejected. Lance can see the resolve in his eyes as well as understanding. He knew that it was pointless to live when the moment the Paladins of Voltron leave their ship, he’s as good as dead. The higher ups will check the cameras and see that he was tortured, they’ll even hear him confess to Lance about his data pad. He will be dubbed as the Galra soldier who was tortured by the Blue Paladin, who begged for his life, an embarrassment to the Galra as a whole.

“Alright. It was nice to meet you ,Blue Paladn Lance. It is an honor to die on your hands.“

“Goodbye, Joras.“


There you go. What do you think? I admit it’s a little messy but there’s something with an evil Lance that I quite like. I’m a sucker for evil geniuses and even more for Lance so why the hell not.

Consider this a 3 am AU written entirely on mobile tumblr in which Neil is a runaway prince and Andrew is a bandit/thief/Robin Hood-esque whatever the fuck with his family + Kevin, and like most of the plot is over and done with.

o0o0o0o

“Abram.” The name rolls off of Andrew’s tongue, unfamiliar. “Abram,” he repeats. “Is that a truth?”

“It’s the only truth I know,” Neil responds. “But if ‘Neil’ is a lie, I’d like to keep it so for as long as possible.”

“You are Neil Josten,” Andrew says. His tone holds no room for arguments. Neil has never been good at listening to such things, though.

“I am Nathaniel Wesninski,” he says, barely forcing the words out. “I am Prince Nathaniel Wesninski and my father–”

“You are Neil Abram Josten.” Even if he had not spoken, the conviction behind Andrew’s eyes would have been enough to shut him up. He wonders, not for the first time, how anyone could believe him to be heartless. How anyone could believe him to be The Monster that they’ve all labeled him as. Perhaps Andrew is more human than all of them. Maybe he just knows the truth better than all of them. Maybe, perhaps. “You are Neil Abram Josten and you are one of us.”

It’s the last words that knock the air out of his chest. “I’m one of you?” Neil breathes, eyes wide.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Andrew leans forward to flick his forehead. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

“I’m dangerous to you, and your family.”

“So is Kevin.”

“But you have a deal with Kevin.”

“I had a deal with you.”

There’s a silence. A bird chirps. The wind rustles through the trees. The moon just barely shines through the leaves above them.

Andrew lifts a hand and it hovers just beside Neil’s bandaged cheek. He’s giving him a choice. Neil leans to the side, letting him cup his cheek as he closes his eyes. He hasn’t touched Andrew since Riko took him. He is still warm, although the air is cool. He had thought Riko would bring him to is father, and he’d never feel him again. He’d been prepared for that. Now, he doesn’t know if he would ever be able to leave again.

“Your father still believes Riko to be alive and on his way to him,” Andrew murmurs lowly, stroking his thumb along the bandage. “All it would take is a worded letter to your uncle. He would be dealt with–him and his men.”

“And who will take over?” Neil asks. He opens his eyes. “I am not fit to be king.”

“You are a leader, Neil Josten. You will do fine. It is your birthright.”

“I have not been learning to be a leader in years. I am out of practice.”

“Your uncle can help you. You can build an alliance through your father’s death, and he can teach you to be king. He loves you enough to do so.”

“And what of you? And Nicky, and Aaron, and Kevin?”

Andrew is quiet while he ponders this. “What do you want? What is it that you wish for us to do?”

“I wish for you all to be able to find somewhere to rest.”

“Even Aaron?”

“…I suppose. He is your brother. I can retract your criminal status. You can have a place in the palace.”

“So you are planning on becoming king, then.”

“I–.” Neil blinks. He hadn’t realized. “I suppose so.”

Andrew nods. “We shall send a letter to your uncle, then?”

“I do not need him to fight my battles.”

“You will not fight your father.” It’s an ordwr, but it sounds like a plea. Neil is and likely always will be weak to Andrew. He cannot argue when he can hear that something behind his voice.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “we will send for my uncle.”

Andrew looks at him, looks into eyes that Neil hates because they are wholly his father’s. They are eyes that Andrew finds intriguing, he knows. “The era of Wesninski will soon be over,” he says. “You will be a king bearing the name Josten. You are not your father. You will be better than him.” You are better than him, he doesn’t say.

“Andrew…” His hand is still to his cheek. He isn’t inclined to remind him to remove it. “Yes or no?”

Neil has not kissed Andrew since the night before Riko had taken him all that time ago. The last time they kissed, Neil was aware of the time limit hanging above his head. He had wanted to know the feeling of being something to Andrew before he was forced to leave them.

There is still a limit, but he feels like they have all the time in the world. Nicky and Aaron and Kevin sleep, far enough away to not be heard but still be seen. In this moment, it is Andrew Doe and Neil Josten and no one else. This is the one thing Neil has ever truly wanted. Whatever ‘this’ may be.

“Yes.”

It is Andrew who closes the gap. Andrew who presses his lips so, so softly to Neil’s in a way that is odd, but not unwelcome.

It is not a kiss in a haze of lust. It is not one of desperation. It is not one that speaks of a goodbye and the knowledge that ‘this’ will never be anything ever again.

It is a kiss that holds the promise they had made all those months ago, and the silent promise they made just then. It speaks of that 'something’ that Andrew refuses to acknowledge. It speaks of the things they will never tell each other, but know, deep down. It speaks of battles hard won and the freedom that is so, so close. It speaks of whatever Neil Abram Josten and Andrew Joseph Doe are.

It is a kiss that speaks of everything.

{ red velvet }

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader (ft. sugar daddy!thomas)

t/w: none!

tags: @toonerzchatz @promisesandmore @itsallexmallory @impala-moose @jaydiggs1218 @fierydaemon @slightlysouless @jzzyjones @wiindmill @whitestorm547 @hamilturnt  @littleblue5mcdork @arostrolgy @mcgrammer15 @fanagelbagel   @luna-lightwood-potter @strawbirby @21donutlover @jazzyyyjones 

a/n: thank you for 2,500 followers! we’ll celebrate with this!

inbox || masterlist

part one // part two // part three


two. 

“Thomas Jefferson,” You read out loud to Peggy as you ate a bowl of cereal. “He’s 31. Loves France, art, and is looking for a companion.” You laughed a little, but your voice quickly softened. “He makes over $100,000.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Peggy snorted, digging into her breakfast.

“Well,” You paused. “No, but -” You chuckled. “That’s a lot of money. More than what I make.”

“Definitely. What else?”

“He’s really tall and he’s really fit from the looks of these pictures.” You smiled, scrolling through the photos on his profile. “He’s traveled a lot and -”

Another message!

Peggy knew what the look on your face meant. She squealed and quickly peered over your shoulder.

“What did he say? What did he say?”

You opened the message and felt your heart race as the app loaded. Finally, your conversation with Thomas appeared. You picked right back up from where you left off.

Hi, darling. It’s been great talking to you. How does a night out in the city sound?

“A night out in the city.” Peggy grinned. “And maybe if you play your cards right -”

You blushed. “Hush, Pegs.” You went to type out a response.

Sounds great. What do you have in mind?

I figured we could do dinner. I wanted to get to know you better, love.

“Darling? Love?” Peggy was practically bouncing in her seat. “These pet names are too much. I’m going to die.”

That sounds great! I’d like that a lot.

His response came right away.

Perfect. Gramercy Tavern at six? I’ll come by and pick you up.

“What kind of car do you think he drives? Maserati?” Peggy mused. “Mercedes-Benz?” She gasped. “A Rolls Royce?”

“He looks like a BMW kind of guy.” You mused as you typed out a response. 

Okay, here’s my address. I’ll see you then!

You sat back in your chair with a little sigh. You turned your phone off and looked up at Peggy. “What am I going to wear?”

“Wear your white dress. The short one with the lace. We can jazz it up with some jewelry.”

“Gramercy Tavern is like, crazy nice though.”

“You’re going to look amazing. Relax.”

You tried to. If it was any other situation, you were sure you would have been more excited, but there was something about the whole arrangement that made you nervous. Was it shallow that you were asking for money? Would people judge you? You didn’t want to come off across as desperate, but in all honestly, that’s what you were.

You went to class with Peggy but when you two came back home, you were still on edge.

It neared six o’ clock. Thomas would be here soon. You were dressed to the nines with Peggy’s expertise. The dress hit all the right places, accentuated the best parts of your body. The dress was short so it hit your waist but showed off your legs. You finished the look with nude heels, a matching clutch, and a pretty diamond necklace. Your makeup was done, your hair was curled. You even shaved your legs for the night.

You looked the part. Now, you’d just have to get through dinner.

You felt your phone buzz. It was Thomas.

Darling, I’m outside.

“He’s outside.” You felt your heart race. “Peggy, where’s my phone?”

“In your hand.” She deadpanned, looking up at you. “Deep breath,” She advised you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “This is just the man that’s going to pay your tuition if he likes you enough to do so. No pressure or anything but just make sure you’re charming and beautiful and perfect.”

You glared at her as she finished her sentence, but it wasn’t long before you two laughed. Peggy smiled.

“Knock ‘em dead. You look gorgeous.” She gave you a quick hug. “Pray to God I won’t have to file a police report, but I’ll know what to tell them if something does happen.”

“We’ll be at Gramercy Tavern. Don’t forget. The one on 42 East Twentieth Street.” 

“Got it.” She looked you up and down once more, memorizing your outfit in case she would have to give a description to the police. “If you’re uncomfortable at all, call me. I will pick you up. I’m not kidding.”

“I know.” You mumbled. Peggy wasn’t one to joke about those things. “I’ll send you the siren emoji.”

“Okay. Make sure you get that license plate. I may or may not text you every hour to make sure you’re alive.”

“Thanks, Peggy.” You smiled and squeezed her hand before heading out the door. “Love you!” 

“Love you too!”

You were greeted by the cool New York air. You walked down the few steps that led up to your place with Peggy, before looking around.

You had practically memorized the face of the man you were looking for now. Curly hair, bright smile, brown eyes. You hadn’t seen him until -

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at you.

Mr. Jefferson was incredibly handsome, dressed in a white dress shirt with a black blazer and matching slacks. He donned a slim black tie, completing his look. You knew he was handsome just by the look of his profile picture, but to see him in person still took your breath away. He was taller than you imagined. You were in awe of him as he came forward to greet you.

“Hi, darling. I’m Thomas.” He said smoothly, hints of his Southern accent coming out. He leaned forward, brought you in for a hug and kissed your cheek. He pulled away and gave you a little smile.

It was brighter than the New York skyline. There was this strange sort of warmth that filled your heart as you looked up at him. From a single smile, you felt like you had known him for years.

“You’re even lovelier in person.” Thomas whispered, a little twinkle in his eye.

“T-Thank you.” You blushed and Thomas’ eyes seemed to soften at the sight of you. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and reminded yourself to speak up.

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his arm. You took it gratefully, and let him lead you to the car. Peggy and you were both wrong. His car was sleek, sophisticated, and a gorgeous black Bentley. He opened the car door for you and helped you in, before closing the door behind you.

You were greeted with the feeling of luxurious leather seats underneath your fingertips. You remembered you needed to ask him something.

When he came into the car, you spoke up. “Is it alright if I get your license plate?”

Thomas nodded, slipping his keys into the ignition. “Course, darling. It’s 6YJ8R54.”

“Thank you.” You quickly sent a text to Peggy and relaxed when she sent you a thumbs up emoji back. “My roommate just wants to make sure I’m alright. Not that you’re a bad person or anything.”

“No, I understand. The last thing I want for you is to be uncomfortable. Especially if we continue seeing each other after this.” He pointed out, pulling out onto the streets of New York. “So, have you been to Gramercy Tavern before?”

“Never.” You admitted. The radio played softly in the background. Smooth, sultry jazz poured into the car.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first.” He smiled a little. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” You turned your phone off. “Hey, is this the album you mentioned to me last night?”

“Miles Davis.” He grinned. “Yeah. You remembered.” 

“Yeah,” You laughed a little. “Plus it sounded familiar.” 

“I didn’t know you liked jazz.” 

“I can appreciate it. My dad listened to jazz a lot when I was a kid. Kind of nice to hear it again.”

The restaurant wasn’t too far from your apartment. Thomas chatted with you about the city, and you appreciated it. You felt a little more comfortable the closer you got to the restaurant. You had driven through the heart of the city, the bright lights and live energy making you smile until he turned down a less busy street. He pulled up in front of the restaurant.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when he pulled right into valet, but even still you were. He gave you a little smile before the workers opened each of your car doors. You stepped out and looked at the lovely restaurant before you. Thomas spoke to the employee for a moment before coming around. He offered you his arm again.

“I’m impressed, Mr. Jefferson.” You chuckled a little.

“I know it might take a little getting used to, but when you’re with me, expect nothing less.”

“What is it that you do again?”

“I work in marketing. It gets pretty busy, but I like the job.”

“Clearly it pays well.”

Thomas smirked. “You could say that, yeah.”

You looked up at him, noticing how smug he looked before you laughed along with him. He opened the door to the restaurant for you and you slipped inside. He had his hand on your lower back as you approached the hostess.

She greeted you warmly. It only took a minute for her to find Thomas’ reservation. She had you follow her and quickly sat you down at a table. Thomas was ever the gentleman, pulling out your chair and you sat at the candlelit table together. The ambiance was warm and yet, not too stuffy. You were sure you didn’t fit in with this crowd, but being with Thomas made you feel a little better.

Other diners laughed and chatted around you. You couldn’t help but notice how many more couples were there. To your left, someone was celebrating an anniversary. Another couple held hands across the table to your right. It was such a romantic place. You wondered if he chose this place for a reason.

“And you, sweetheart? What is it that you hope to do?” He looked at you curiously. “Or do you see this as how you’re going to make a living?”

The question took you aback. You knew what he was referring to when he said this. You were sure he didn’t mean to come across as rude, but it seemed so anyway. You pursed your lips together, tried to keep yourself calm before you called Thomas a self-entitled prick–or something along those lines.

“Actually, I’m in school right now.” You straightened up a little, looking him right in the eye. “I’m studying to be a (M/N). My scholarship is ending soon. I’m concerned about how I’ll pay for my tuition. I don’t want to take out more loans so I needed to find a way to get some extra cash. I’m not sure what reasons you’ve heard from other girls, but I promise it’s more than because I want a new pair of shoes.”

You let out a sigh as soon as you got the statement out. You knew you probably shouldn’t have snapped at the man who was essentially going to pay your tuition, but you weren’t sorry. You simply looked up at him with a tight smile.

Maybe this was a bad idea. You thought. You started to think about an alternative plan. You could take a couple more hours at work and -

“I respect that.” Thomas spoke up. You stared up at him. He leaned back in his chair a little. “I’d be glad to help.”

You nodded a little and let out a sigh of relief. Your heart was beating so quickly, you felt like it was going to explode. “Thank you.”

Thomas felt something click inside him. He’d been on other dates before with women who he couldn’t even recall the name of and yet, here he was, hanging onto every word you said as if it was your last. 

He couldn’t explain the feeling he had at the time, but looking back he knew exactly what it was. 

He didn’t have time to dwell on it because you spoke up again.

“I have to admit,” you opened up the menu as you spoke. Your eyes fell on the word lobster at least three times. “I’ve never done this before so how is this relationship going to work?”

“I like you.” Thomas chuckled, thanking the hostess when she brought you glasses of water. “Most girls aren’t this honest. Or frankly as interesting.”

You laughed a little. “Really?”

“I knew you were new to this lifestyle from the moment you messaged me.” He pointed out. “You were polite.” He laughed a little. “And you were right about what you said earlier. Most girls just want a taste at this upscale lifestyle, which isn’t wrong or anything, but to hear your reason …” He had a little glint in his eye. “You’re very smart.”

“For getting a sugar daddy?” You laughed a little. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No. It’s smart!” He insisted. “And your reason is pretty noble.”

“Do you know how long it took me to admit that I was becoming a sugar baby? I felt so embarrassed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” Thomas chuckled a little. “It shows that you’re resourceful. You do what you have to do to get ahead. It’s … admirable.”

You smiled a little, looking at Thomas from across the table. “You make me sound so noble … like this is some great sacrifice I’m making for the greater good.” You exaggerated before the two of you started laughing.

He shrugged. “You’re doing it for a worthy cause to me. More than for a pair of shoes.”

You started to say more, but you turned your head when you heard the workers singing happy birthday to a diner across the restaurant. You smiled fondly before looking back to Thomas. You didn’t notice how intently he admired you.

“Before the waitress comes back, how does the tasting menu sound? I think it’ll give you a bit of everything on the menu.” He hummed. “Do you like seafood?”

“Yeah. It sounds great.” You looked over what the tasting menu offered. Marinated scallops, lobster salad, duck breast and sausage. Your mouth watered. You knew this would be the nicest meal you would have had in a while.

“If there’s anything else you want, let me know.”

You smiled and promised you would, but you still felt a little uncomfortable about it the whole ordeal. It would take some getting used to.

The waitress came by, politely asked you for drinks. You both told her your orders and before she left, Thomas ordered the tasting platter. The waitress took your menus and left you alone, not leaving without giving you a friendly smile.

Soft classical music played in the background. You could hear the clink of silverware all throughout the restaurant.

“Do you come here often?” You asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Yes. Usually on business though.” He nodded a little, fingers tapping along the table absentmindedly. “It’s nice to be here on a date for once.”

“I haven’t gotten out much either.” You mumbled a little shyly.

“No college boys for you?” He asked with a smile. You shook your head and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Come on, there has to be someone. You’re a beautiful girl.”

“I’m flattered, but no,” You played with the end of your napkin a little nervously. “Besides, they don’t know how to treat a lady.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows, a little smirk beginning to form on his face. “That so?”

“Yep.” You smiled before continuing. “Plus, half of them are just there to party.”

Thomas laughed at your comment, but he tilted his head a little your previous comment.

“Well, you focus on your studies, love. I’ll treat you better than those boys.”

And from the way he looked at you with his kind eyes and small smile, you had no doubt that he would.

You shared an appetizer, continued you talk all throughout your time there. He ordered a bottle of wine for the two of you. You only had one drink. Eventually, you did get into how your arrangement would work, and as awkward as it was at first, it made you feel a little better once you set the ground rules.

You’d have an allowance–money you could spend however you chose. He figured he’d pay you by the date and give you extra money if you needed it.

“I know you’d like me to cover your tuition mostly, but I don’t mind treating you from time to time. Clothes, makeup, etc.” He trailed off.

You felt yourself getting starry eyed. You were lucky enough to get Thomas as your sugar daddy. You were pleasantly surprised at how well this was going. He’d been nothing but a gentleman so far. 

“And if I have any events, I’d love to bring you along to them.” He mentioned. “If your schedule allows you to.”

“Of course.”

Your waitress came by with your first entree. It was delicious, and Thomas was glad to see how much you were enjoying the food. The food came out one after another. Marinated scallops, squash tortellini.

For a moment, he indulged in this idea of you. He could see himself doing this with you often. You were intelligent and funny and easy to talk to. As he looked at you, he wondered if there would be a chance that you would love him for more than his money.

Yet, he knew the chances of that were unlikely. It was implied that you were not to fall in love with one another. Besides, he hadn’t been in love since -

“Are you alright?” You asked him softly, noticing the zoned out look in his eye.

Thomas laughed a little. “Y-Yes. Sorry about that. Lost in thought.”

“It’s okay.” You straightened up a little. “I was asking you about Virginia. What’s it like?”

Just like that, Thomas was talking again, that familiar twinkle in his eye and that bright smile on his face. You’d never been there, but from the way Thomas talked about it, you wanted to see it someday for yourself.

“And that’s Virginia in a nut-shell.” Thomas chuckled. He started to say more, until your waitress came back. Thomas turned his attention to her.

“Would you two be interested in getting dessert tonight?” She asked with a little smile, already handing the menu to Thomas.

“Darling, wanna take a look?” He opened to the dessert page and slipped it over to you. “You can order whatever you want.”

You took it from him with a little smile. You only needed a minute before you made up your mind.

“The chocolate cake sounds good.”  You hummed. Thomas smiled.

“It’s amazing. You’re gonna love it.”

You handed him the menu back and he gave it to the waitress. “We’ll do the chocolate cake.”

“Excellent choice.” The waitress smiled. “The cookie platter is complimentary with it so I’ll bring that out as well.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

Thomas noticed how you perked up at the mention of the cookie platter. He looked over at you once the waitress had gone.

“I may or may not have wanted that all along.” You smiled a little, looking down a little.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me if you ever want anything. I’ll get it for you.” He reached across the table and gently squeezed your hand. He pulled away almost immediately after, but you appreciated the gesture. “That’s how this relationship works.” 

Dessert was amazing. You split the cake and Thomas was right–you did love it. The cookie platter was cute, full of six different kinds of cookies that came with glasses of milk for each of you. That combined with the chocolate cake had you feeling stuffed, but in the best way possible.

Thomas didn’t let you look at the bill. He paid and tipped the waitress without missing a beat. As soon as he got his card back, he gave you a little smile.

“Ready to go?” Thomas asked, straightening up in his chair a little. You nodded, grabbed your phone, your clutch, and rose to your feet. He helped you up and instinctively put his hand on the small of your back as a server went past you with his hands full of entrees. Soon after, you both headed outside, reentering the New York scene. 

The sky was pitch black but there were a few stars. The lights from the city shone brighter than them. You stood closer to Thomas as a cold wind blew. You rubbed your shoulders to gather some warmth, but Thomas quickly slung his blazer over your shoulders. He promised the car was coming around in a minute. Once his car pulled around, he helped you inside.

Before he drove off, he put the heater on lowly. His blazer was still around your shoulders. His cologne filled your nose.

“I’ll drop you off at your place.”

You perked up at this. “Not yours?”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t expect you to put out on the first date.”

You nodded slowly. “The other girls you’ve been with … do they go home with you on the first date?”

“Uh, sometimes. Usually, they insist.”

But you seem different. He wanted to say, but he decided against it.

He cleared his throat a little. “Don’t worry about it. I said I wanted to get to know you better, and that I did. This is your address, right?”

You looked at his phone which was open to his GPS. “Mhmm.”

“Alright. We’ll be there in a little.”

You got lost in the city around you, felt warm from Thomas’ gestures as well as the heat on in the car. You looked over at Thomas, quietly admired the silhouette of his profile.

Before you could get caught up in the idea of him, you reminded yourself this was an arrangement in which love wasn’t a part of the deal. You turned off the feeling. Ignored it. You didn’t have time to fall in love. Thomas didn’t seem to either.

Before you knew it, Thomas had parked in front of your apartment. He turned the car off and gave you a little smile.

“I’ll walk you to your door.” He got out of the car and you did too. By the time, he came around, he had helped you onto the sidewalk and walked with you up the few steps that led to your front door. You took off his blazer and handed it back to him.

“Thank you for such a nice night out.” You said, looking up at him. He took his blazer from you with a little smile while you were busy digging into your clutch for your keys. You found them and smiled up at Thomas.

He looked heavenly. His hair framed his face perfectly. He looked content. The moonlight hit his face and showed off his best features. You could see him smiling back at you.

“It was a pleasure.”

You reached up on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Once you pulled away, he whispered, “I’ll transfer the money tomorrow morning.”

You’d agreed he would give you an extra $200 for each date, but you were sure he spent that alone on dinner. You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you before you could say anything.

He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, gave you a loose smile. “All you have to do is say thank you.”

You nodded, managed a smile and a little laugh. “Thank you, Thomas. I really had a great time.”

He grinned. “Me too. Good night, darling.”

“Good night.” You said softly then walked through the front door. You couldn’t help but smile as you kicked your heels off.

You could get used to this.

anonymous asked:

because the winter finale of S6, au in which princess!Emma has a pirate sneaking into her bedroom at night and all the guards secretly know but they tell no one of the royal family about it

Y’know I should probably finish this one before it all gets Jossed to hell this Sunday…

Quite on accident, Emma found herself half in love with a pirate, of all people.

She’d accepted her young widowhood quite graciously, focusing all of her energies on raising her son – and a fine young man Henry was turning out to be. She’d thought nothing else would honor her late husband’s memory than to ensure that their son, the future crown prince, would bring nothing but honor to their family.

But Henry was growing up, as all young boys do, and as he went squiring about and having his own adventures, he needed his mother less. Emma found herself drifting from one activity to the next, bestowing her princess’ favor upon charities and the good people of her kingdom, but something felt… off.

Missing.

Until the night a man vaulted over the railing of her balcony, mistaking her rooms for some treasure vault.

Keep reading

2

***
She was sick, it wasn’t the normal, stay in bed and eat soup type of sick, Something was wrong with her heart, the doctors couldn’t quite place what was wrong, but the one thing they knew for sure was that Betty Cooper was very, very sick.

“It’s failing, your heart is failing. we’ve put you on the top of the donor list but even with your high placement, there’s really not much we can do. We just have to wait.” Her doctor had said, looking sadly at the family crying in his office.

So they waited. And waited. And waited. It had been four months and she knew she was running out of time. Everyday she got weaker, some days she could hardly keep her eyes open through a full period and other days the walk from class to class left her more than winded. She knew she was losing weight but she couldn’t eat, the nausea from her heart pills was too severe.
The only person she had told was Veronica and that had been completely accidental.

“What are these?” Veronica had asked looking at the array of medications and paperwork on her dresser. She meant to put all that away but she had fallen asleep
“Oh, those are just for my headaches.”
Veronica didn’t believe her so she pulled out her phone and googled the medications “these are all for heart disease? Why would you have these?” She couldn’t hold it in anymore and told Veronica everything, they both cried together that night, before they fell asleep, Her best friend holding her hand.
Veronica had been great, supporting her and coming to her hospital visits almost every time. Betty’s parents had checked out about two months in , they resigned to accept the fact that their daughter was dying and couldn’t bring themselves to get to close for the fear of it hurting more when she died. It hurt, but she figured it was for the best.

Settling down onto the cold metal bench in the courtyard Betty shivered, she seemed to always be cold these days even in the late spring sunshine, she had asked to leave class early so she could make it to lunch on time, she knew she was awfully slow these days, and she hated to hold people up in the hallways.

Suddenly a dark blue flannel was draped over her shoulders and she smiled instantly, tugging the material closer to her chest before glancing up at Jughead. “Thanks juggie” she whsipered, he just shook his head and offered one of his rare smiles, reserved only for Betty. “Don’t mention it.”
Their quiet moment was quickly interrupted by the rest of the gang, dropping their trays on the table and jumping into conversations.
Kevin was going on about the adorable new uniforms pembrooke got to wear “I mean come on, do you know how much time it would save me if I only had one option of clothes, look at Archie all he wears is jeans and that letterman jacket I bet he’s ready in like two minutes” Archie chucked a grape at the boy and rolled his eyes.
Cheryl sighed “the skirts are cute, I’m totally into the naughty school girl look.”
Betty relaxed into Jugheads side, feeling tired and drained, this was nothing new, but she always felt extra tired when she tried to keep up with all of her friends conversations.
“You okay green eyes?” Jughead grumbled above her, dropping a hand to her face pushing away a few loose blonde strands of hair that were dangling in her face.

Jughead was exceptionally affectionate, he was almost always touching her, or leaning on her and when she leaned on him he accepted it with open arms, shrugging an arm around her shoulder pulling her tighter every time. The thing was, he wasn’t like this to everyone, in fact the only person he let touch him was Betty. She never brought it up, afraid to jinx it but she always wondered if maybe he felt the same way she did.
She loved Jughead jones, she had realized that the day she got over Archie. She loved him and she couldn’t help but think, would he ever know? Would she ever get the chance to tell him? Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, she smiled up at him weakly “just tired juggie.”
“One more period bets” he said, squeezing her shoulder.

“Are we still on for after school B?” Veronica asked from her seat across Betty, she gently nudged Betty with her foot and wiggled her eyebrows, smirking.

Betty shot her a mock glare and nodded “yep, 4:00” she was going in for X-rays, the doctor was concerned, and if things were getting worse, she would be bumped up even more on the list. She hated feeling happy to be taking away someone’s chance.

“What’s after school?” Archie asked putting down his guitar.
Veronica shook her head “its girl things Archie you wouldn’t understand.” He rolled his eyes “well then how come Cheryl isn’t invited?” He smirked at the redhead to his left, she threw him a glare before she turned to the two girls
“Yeah, how come Cheryl isn’t invited, last time I checked, I am a girl.” She said sassily, flipping her long hair.
“yeah and I’m an honorary girl, where’s my invite?” Kevin added placing a hand on his hip.

Veronica sighed loudly “okay! Fine! It’s not girl things! It’s B&V things, now butt out. Hey Betty are you okay?”

Everything was blurry, her breathing was slow and she felt her heartbeat at an alarmingly uneven rate.

“I…Im..” she couldn’t focus, couldn’t get her thoughts together.

Suddenly she felt two large, warm hands grip her shoulders “sunshine! Hey bets! Betty look at me, come on bets.” Jughead was pleading with her, the last thing she saw before everything went black was the blurry piercing blue eyes staring her down and filled with worry.

She woke up in a hospital bed, her eyes painfully adjusting to the light. The familiar face of her doctor was standing over her and smiling relieved. “You gave us all quite the scare ms.cooper, we have you on supports right now, your heart rate slowed down to an alarmingly low pace, we were able to restart it, but it’s not a permanent fix, fortunately yet unfortunately this situation helped you bring your standings all the way to the top. You should hopefully have a brand new heart within the next two weeks. Your friends are all outside, shall I bring them in?” Betty nodded weakly sending a Thankyou smile to her doctor.

They all must know now, she didn’t want them worrying about her, it was too much too carry, she should know. Veronica came bursting through the door and immediately launched herself on top of Betty, tears leaking from her eyes “I was so scared! I thought we lost you! The ambulance kept asking me what was wrong and I just kept saying your heart! But those idiots didn’t know what to do!” Betty laughed softly “I’m okay Ronnie, I’m okay!” Archie came to stand by her bed followed by Cheryl and Kevin “never do that again.okay?” Cheryl said seriously her eyes red rimmed a sure sign that she too had been crying
“I promise.” Betty returned linking pinkies with the redhead.
Archie grabbed her free hand “Betty.. I didnt .. I didnt know. I wasn’t paying close enough attention.. this whole time..” she cut him off quickly “this isn’t your fault Archie, it’s no ones fault. I’m sick. I’m sick but I’m hopefully going to get better, the doctors say I have a really good chance at getting a new heart as soon as possible.”

Everyone nodded as Kevin dropped a kiss to her cheek “as soon as you get out of here, we’re having a sleepover.” She laughed “you got it Kev” she looked over his shoulder and caught the eyes of Jughead, instantly she froze. Veronica noticed and began ushering everyone out of the room"alright everyone, let’s give her some space.“ She leaned over the bed to wrap Betty in a hug
“He was a mess, I’ve never seen him like that, he is totally in love with you.” She winked as the teens left the room, leaving only Betty and jughead.
It was quiet for a few seconds and Betty needed to break it “ Jughead I..”

Cutting her off ,he shook his head
“You didn’t tell me. I didn’t know.”
“Jughead..”
“You almost died Betty. In my arms. I was holding you. One second you’re staring at me all green eyes and smiling and the next you’re lying there not moving, not breathing. I thought you died Betty.” She shook her head tears leaking out. She opened her mouth to speak but he wasn’t done. “And then Veronica is yelling about your heart, how you have heart problems and I’m thinking “she’s sick?” I should’ve known. I should’ve payed closer attention to you, but I didn’t. I could’ve lost you today. I could’ve lost you without telling you everything, telling you how I feel.“ His eyes were panicked and he was clenching his fists so tight his knuckles were white.
"How you feel?” Betty whispered, confused and shakey, did he have feelings for her, feelings stronger than friendship?

He took a deep breathe and clutched her hand
“I love you Betty Cooper, I’m so in love with you it hurts. When I watched you pass out in my arms today, I realized i can’t take time for granted anymore. I want to be with you. I want to be with you for as long as I can, for as long as time allows, which I hope is a very long time. I understand if you don’t feel the same but you needed to know, I needed you to know.” Betty cut off his rambling by tugging on his sleeve and pulling him Down to her, pressing her lips gently against his. She was still weak, but damn, if her heart hadn’t gone out through all of that, she was pretty sure it never would.
She pulled away smiling as she looked into his dazed and droopy eyes.
“I love you Jughead jones, I’m not going anywhere, not for a very long time.”

He smiled at her dropping his forehead to hers
“Whatever new heart you get, I hope it knows ..you already have mine.”

anonymous asked:

All this Maglor talk makes me think about what he was up to post First Age. Do you think he was a Third Age ghost story, like elves tell their children, don't wander too far from home or you'll be stolen away by the Maglor! Or elves traveling alone in the forest coming upon a lone elf and always in the back of their minds thinking, shit, what if that's him?

“Listen!” cried the bard. “Listen, good folk and I shall tell a tale such as never you have heard before.” 

The taproom of the Prancing Pony stilled and quieted, which said much for the skill of his voice, or of the mannish want for new stories.

“The Dark Lord is thrown down and a king crowned in the West!” the bard went on, leaping up onto a table and drawing out his harp. “But Sauron - yes! I shall speak his name! - is not the first nor the greatest foe of the free peoples, and there are kings that sit e’en now in a West more distant than Gondor. A flagon of ale and a warm bed for the night, and I shall tell you of the fall of Morgoth, and the fall, too, of the great Elvenkings of old. I shall sing to you the Noldolantë, as was first sung by Maglor Fëanorian, the greatest bard to ever walk this earth.”

Barliman Butterbur looked around at the crowded taproom and the folk squeezing in from the stables as the news spread and decided he knew a good deal when he heard it. He filled the requested flagon and handed it up. 

The bard drained it in one long gulp, wiped his mouth upon his sleeve and struck another cord. “There was a man - a prince! The greatest of all princes! - and he had seven sons-”

It was a long story, but a good one. Barliman liked the clever maiden in the vampire fell even if he couldn’t quite keep up with all the Fins - what kind of names were those, he asked you? - and much of it was sadder than he liked. But it kept the patrons in and kept them drinking, which was more than enough to recommend it to him. 

The young bard told the story well, slipping into the characters like they were well-worn boots and a favourite jacket. He was a handsome fellow, bright-eyed with hair as raven-dark as the plumes in his fine hat, and the flames licking in the hearth threw shadows across his features that made him seem now fair and merry, now old and fell as a grizzled wolf in keeping with the characters in his tale. 

When he was done with his tale, had accepted another flagon of ale and refused, despite much pleading, to do an encore, the room started to empty out, the patrons wending their way home or upstairs to their beds. 

“Here now, though,” said Barliman, pausing with his hands full of empty jugs and greasy plates. “What about that last fellow? You never said what happened to the second son.” He was an innkeep after all and every innkeep has a sense for when he’s been cheated.

“Faded from grief,” said the bard, wearily for it had been a long performance. “Or drowned with Beleriand. Returned to the West when the weight of his sins grew too great for even his proud shoulders to bear up under. Or perhaps,” - he leant in closer and Barliman was not sure why he’d thought this old man young. “Perhaps he lingers still upon these shores. Haunting the woods, and singing sad songs beside forgotten pools. Perhaps he steals away Mannish children to raise as his own, scions of his dead house.”

“Not around here, I shouldn’t think,” Barliman huffed indignantly. “That may have gone over in that drowned country but we have a proper king now and he wouldn’t hold with stolen children.”

The bard laughed merrily. “Of course, of course. The poor fellow’s surely dead, but I’ve long found a neat ending, all tied up in a bow, makes for a poorer story. A more forgettable one, certainly, and I would not have poor Maglor fade from history altogether. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am for my bed.” His hard heeled boots rang on the stairs as he picked his way up them. 

His words rang on in Barliman’s mind a good while longer. After the tables were wiped down and Barliman was in his nightshirt blowing out the candle, he thought about that wanderer, weeping upon the cold sand of a distant shore.

All innkeeps have a sense for when they’ve been cheated and a new thought tickled at the back of Barliman’s mind. 

But the bed was soft, the hour was late and Barliman never had had much luck in recognising kings. 

And Then?

Cute little fluffy Bughead one-shot. I just felt like writing and this is what followed :) There’s not much too it but it was fun!
Let me know what you think.

***


Betty was sat at the bar of some dingy club in downtown LA that she frequented when she needed to get away. It was never too full with the mingling, self loathing alcoholics that liked to waste their lives in this joint. Nobody ever looked for her here, and she hoped like hell they wouldn’t tonight. Not after what had just gone down.

“Well, well, well.” Betty groaned inwardly at the voice from behind the bar. She really didn’t want to have to worry about holding any kind of conversation right now. Especially not with the rather cute bar tender that she flirted with on occasion. “Got nowhere better to be on a Friday night, dollface?”

“What’s it to you?” She snapped at him and cut him a look, swinging her near empty glass in her fingers. He held his hands up in defence.

“Woah now, it’s not like I’m complaining.” He smirked as her replaced her now empty glass with a full one. “Just surprised a girl like you doesn’t have other plans on a Friday night.”

“A girl like me?” She questioned as she took him in. He was tall, and absolutely gorgeous. Not typically, not like the boy she had just walked out on, no, more old time classic. Even with the beanie that always adorned his head. He was all dark haired and blue, stormy, eyed. And he had this way of smirking that made her toes curl. His eyes were trained on her as he cleaned a glass with a rag that he threw over his shoulder.

“You know, beautiful, blonde, fit as hell.” His eyes fell down to her shoulders, bare from the black off-the-shoulder blouse she was wearing. He licked his lips. “Surely you got a man waiting for you somewhere?” Betty let out the laugh she had been biting back.

“Shut up, Jughead. What’s this, role play?” He frowned at her for a moment.

“Party pooper.” He poked his tongue at her. They had gotten to know each other pretty well in the last 6 months that Betty had been visiting. Little did he know, she wouldn’t frequent as often if he wasn’t behind the bar. She had become fond of him. She liked the way Jughead could hold a conversation, that they had similar interests. She loved the way he could make her laugh. There was no pressure to be perfect Betty Cooper, she could be whoever the hell she wanted to be with this guy. And although they had never actually had a conversation outside of this bar, or even seen each other for that matter, she considered him a friend. A friend she had thought about sleeping with more than once, truth be told. Which made the decision she had made earlier tonight even more solid. But Jughead knew all about her long-term boyfriend Archie Andrews. “So, he’s not whisking you away to some fancy dinner party with the football WAGS tonight?”

“Not tonight, or any other night for that matter.” He raised an eyebrow in question, ordering her to go on. “He proposed, tonight. He proposed and I said no.” She looked up at him when he didn’t respond.

“Heavy shit, Betts.” He took her hand that was resting on the bar into his own. “Are you okay?” She just shrugged at him.

“Yeah, actually.” She let a deep breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “I feel relieved, actually. How fucked up that?” She let out a slight laugh as it dawned on her.

“Hey,” Jughead squeezed her hand that was still enclosed in his own. He caught her eyes with his own and gave her that smirk she enjoyed so much. “My shifts ending, you wanna split this joint?”

**

To Betty’s surprise Jughead had a dark green jeep parked out the back, and even more to her surprise he wasn’t empty handed when he came out from the back of the bar. He was still all in black, but he had chucked a denim jacket with a fleece collar over the top, and his beanie was still perched on his head.

“A couple of roadies for the lady?” He handed Betty a couple of premixed vodka and lemonades that he had swiped from behind the bar. She gave him a look as if to ask if he was allowed to do that. He tapped his nose. “Perks of the job, sweetheart. And don’t worry, none are for me.” He opened the door for her to jump in the passenger seat. “Wouldn’t want to risk damaging that pretty face.” He winked at her.

“No, that must be your money maker right?” She joked up as she climbed into the jeep.

“Why do you think I get so many tips?” She could hear him laughing as he walked around the car to jump into the drivers seat. It was closing in on midnight now, and it dawned on Betty that she had no idea where they were going to go. Jughead turned to her in his seat.

“Where to, madam?”

“Surprise me, good sir.” He though about it for a moment, and then his face lit up with an idea.

They were driving for only half an hour before Betty became impatient to know where he was taking her.

“Okay, where are we going?”

“To the beach.” He looked at her in his peripheral and smiled. “How’d you not realise by now?”

“I’m not a local, Jughead.” She shrugged and took another swig from her can. “I get lost easy in this busy fucking city.”

“Still so much to learn. We’re not far.” And it was only another 10 minutes before they were there. “You have arrived at your destination, madam.”

“I do love the beach.” Betty was in awe as she looked out at the ocean, it was endless. It made her feel free. She turned to Jughead with a sincere smile, one that made his breath hitch in his throat. “Thanks for bringing me here, Jug.”

“You haven’t even gotten out of the car yet, woman. Come on.”

As Betty jumped down from her seat, she found her feet wobbling beneath her. She had probably had one too many drinks, but she wasn’t in a mind to give a shit. Jughead came round from the other side with his hands in his pocket.

“Shall we?” He nodded to the beach. And Betty, in this new found alcohol hazed confidence, linked her arm through his and headed toward the beach. “So, I have to admit, I do have an ulterior motive for bringing you here.”

“What a surprise.” She said sarcastically. He laughed at her, nudging her side with his arm.

“You can talk here, Betty. Nobody can hear you. Just me. Rant away.”

“This is the first time we’ve like, hung out, you know?”

“I know” He smiled down at her. “And we’re friends, right?” She nodded. “Sooo, talk?” And that’s what they did. They walked together down the beach, and Betty, comfortable in Jugheads arm, and in her slightly tipsy state, spilled her guts. And Jughead just listened.

“We were destined to be together, apparently, me and Archie. And I believed it for the longest time. Although childhood best friends turned high school sweethearts turned adult fuck ups? That wasn’t exactly the plan.” He watched her as she spoke, his eyes trained on the way her mouth wrapped around her words. “We grew up living next door to each other, and fell into those stereotypes. Me the perfect girl next door, him the handsome jock type. And I did love him, at some point honestly, I did. But somewhere between him fucking all those girls and me finding more excuses to avoid him, I realised I didn’t anymore.”

“Jesus, he’s an idiot.” Jughead shook his head in disbelief. “He had you, and he was fucking other girls? Is he dumb and blind?” Betty smiled at him.

“Thanks, Jug. But honestly I can’t blame him. He had only ever known me like that and I don’t think he ever really wanted to be with me his whole life, I think he just felt obligated. Like it was supposed to be Betty and Archie Andrews, some kind of sick All American Dream. But I never want to be some house-wife, and he doesn’t want that life either.”

“So why would he propose, then?” He asked her. Betty let out a sigh before continuing.

“That is one thing I’m not really sure. His football career is really taking off, maybe he thinks it’ll gain good press? Good for his image? I honestly don’t know. All I do know is that he didn’t propose because he wanted to marry me. I could see it in his face. We haven’t even really been together in years. That’s why I walked out. And why would I want that? When, well, if I ever get married, I want it to be because someone loves me. Not just for convenience, not just because ‘that’s how it should be.’ I want to be someone’s only choice, you know?” She looked up to Jughead then, his brow was set in concentration as he really listened to her. She felt her heart flutter at the decency of this boy. He had brought her here for this, so she could let it all out. That’s more than anyone’s done for her in a long time. “Sorry, that all just fell out.” She laughed.

“Don’t be sorry, Betty. I’m just glad that you feel comfortable enough to speak to me about it all. Or to anyone, for that matter.” She squeezed his arm that was laced with hers in appreciation, and he looked at her and smiled.

“You’re a real gentleman, Jughead.”

“That’s me, Jughead Jones, all around good guy.” He was being sarcastic.

“Yeah well, this one won’t finish last.” Jughead wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn she was flirting with him. He stole a glance at her, and she was smiling up at him. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, gorgeous. So what’s next for you?” He asked. She thought about it for a moment.

“Well, I gotta find somewhere to live.” He nodded.

“And then?”

“And then I want a new job, I want to write about real things. Be a journalist. Not just writing columns in a magazine.” She hadn’t even realised she thought that until the words left her mouth. The beach really was bringing it all out of her, she thought. Or maybe it was Jughead.

“Okay, and then?” She tugged on his arm and laughed.

“That’s enough about me, what about you Mr Jones? You gonna serve me drinks forever?” As she said it she realised how horrible it sounded. “Jesus, sorry, I didn’t mean it like -”

“Betts, its fine.” He laughed. “And to answer you, fuck no. I’m writing a novel, if you must know.” She opened her eyes in surprise.

“What about? Oh my god, can I read it?” Betty was excited to leant that he wrote too, somehow he’d never mentioned it before. There were lots of things she was releasing about Jughead tonight, he was more than a pretty face.

“It’s like a murder mystery kinda thing. And sure, you can proof read the latest on our next date?” He froze at his use of word and quickly looked to Betty’s face to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line. She just had a quiet smile on her face, looking out to the ocean. She pulled her arm free from his, and for a second Jughead was worried he had read her expression wrong, before he watched her take off for the sea. She looked so carefree as she ran, hair loose, arms out. He couldn’t help being reminded just how beautiful she was, even more so than when she was sat behind the bar. Here she was open and carefree, and what he knew all along rung true. He really fucking liked her. “Betty!” He called as he took off after her, picking up her sandals she had discarded on her way. “Betty, what are you doing woman?” He could hear her laughing as he got closer. She had rolled up her black jeans and was knee deep in the ocean, twirling around.

“I feel so free, Jughead. For the first time in maybe my whole life? And looking out at this ocean, it could take me anywhere.” She stopped twirling then, and faced out towards the open water.

“You can go anywhere you want, Betty Cooper. The world is yours. Take it.” He called out to her. She turned to him and waved, urging him to join her. And she looked so at peace he thought “Fuck it” and took off his own shoes, piling them next to Betty. He didn’t even bother rolling up his jeans. When he reached her she pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him tight.

“Thank you, Juggie. This was exactly what I needed. It’s so good to get it all out.” She said in his ear. He could feel the goosebumps on his arm at his close she was to him. She pulled away and smiled the biggest grin he’s ever seen.

“Scream it out, if you want. Shed that skin.” She looked at him for a moment, ticking it over in her mind whether she should.

“ITS MY LIFE.” She screamed in his face. He flinched a little in shock, and then just laughed. “Oops, sorry.” She said a little quieter. He just shook his head.

“No, don’t be sorry. Keep going.”

“I MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS!” She screamed again.

“THIS WATER IS FUCKING FREEZING!” Jughead screamed back, laughing.

“I AM BETTY FUCKING COOPER AND I DO WHAT I WANT!” She was all smiles, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. Jughead wanted to reach out and touch her but she was in her element and he wanted nothing to stop that.

“IT’S MY FUCKING LIFE!” She screamed again.

“FUCK EVERYONE ELSE!” Jughead had to at least let something out.

“WHAT ARE WE DOING RIGHT NOW?” Betty burst out laughing, bringing her hands to her mouth to muffle it.

“YOU’RE LIVING” He screamed back at her.

“Almost” she whispered, in such contrast, before she grabbed his face and pulled it to her own. She kissed Jughead long and hard, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. And he kissed her back just as hard, snaking his tongue into her mouth along with his arms around her waist. And when they both decided to come up for air, neither made a move to let go of on another. Jughead bumped his forehead against hers, both of their breathing was heavy.

“I’ve been wondering what that feels like. Also, did you call me Juggie?” He teased.

“Me too. And yes, I did, it’s cute.”

“I like it.” He kissed her again lightly.

“So” She said, breathlessly. “What’s next?”

“We get out of this freezing ocean?”

“And then?”

Jughead just laughed, and hoped to god that whatever was next in his life involved Betty Cooper.

Been thinking alot about how fandom really focuses on Sansa and ‘lying’. To me, it is very overstated and overfocused considering Sansa never lies with malicious intent to hurt people. Sure, how she shapes and interprets reality in A Game Of Thrones especially with the Trident Incident is important (where she falsely recalls Mycah hitting Joffrey) is important, but it’s not the be end all of the character. How Sansa grows and changes is also vital. Here, I’ll try to make clear that lying is not one of Sansa’s ‘flaws’, she is human and is not perfect but holding her lies against her doesn’t really work.

I don’t mind discussion about how lying impacts on Sansa, and the role in plays within her story- my problem is when people use that as a reason to be against her character.

Keep reading

Hail Mary, Part VIII

Premise: What if Jamie and Claire had 1) been more openly affectionate in those early days, and 2) not *had* to get married?

Part I  Part II  Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII



“Betrothed,” Jamie rasped as the clockwork wheels thudded into place in his mind. 

The Grants.

The delegation of Grants that Colum had been—

Colum nodded, smiling calmly, but his eyes were still narrowed in razor-sharp suspicion. “All settled, save the vows, and that comes tomorrow.” 

TOMORROW.

Colum had arranged for—

Fury. Raging, blistering fury tore through Jamie, and he had to grip the arm of his chair to keep from letting it explode from him. “Might I ask, uncle,” he said, with what he hoped was a good approximation of cordiality, “why ye didna think to seek my counsel on this before matters were ‘settled.’”  

The laird paused only a moment before answering, cool and collected. “Ye should be thanking me, wee Jamie. This is a good match. An important match.” 

“Important enough that it didna occur to ye to even ask my leave before selecting a wife for me?” Jamie tried to keep his voice steady but the waves of anger lurked barely below the surface. “Before determining the course of the remainder of my life?”

Colum’s words were still quiet, but as sharp as a knife blade through the still of the room. “You’re to be laird, Sheumais MacBrian. If it’s the remainder of your life, it’s the next life of the clan as well. As future leader of the MacKenzies, your life is not your own, anymore.”

Jamie snapped. 

“I’ve no intention to be laird, and my life is no one’s save my own, God’s, and those who have claim to my protection. I came here today only to inform ye that I’ve proposed marriage to Claire Beauchamp and she’s accepted.”

The silence before Colum spoke was excruciating. “Explain yourself,” he said delicately. “…boy.” 

“’Boy,’ it is?” Jamie couldn’t help a wry, scornful laugh. “A moment ago, I’m to be laird, and now –“

“And now,” Colum interrupted, his voice still alarmingly controlled, but the eyes showing the fire about to pour forth, “like a child, you’ll answer to your elders for your actions.”

Jamie bit back a retort that would certainly have sounded childish, and instead chose to remain silent.

Colum’s eyebrows were knitted hard. “She’s wi’ child, then?”  

“No! Christ—God in Heaven, no!” Jamie’s shock and embarrassment made his voice squeak like a wee lad. “I’ve no’ lain wi’ her. I swear it on my mother’s grave,” he said more sharply. 

“Doesna matter to me if you’ve swived a hundred lassies,” Colum said. “What matters is that ye deliberately deceived me here in this room three weeks ago in implying that your allegiance to the clan outweighed any liaison between you and Mistress Beauchamp.”  

Jamie couldn’t remain stoic in the face of Colum’s quietly seething wrath. “Aye, I did deceive ye, uncle, though wi’ no malice in my heart. See, it—” He took a deep breath. Everything, then. “I said those words in anger, but the feelings between Mistress Beauchamp and me are mutual, and have been growing for some time. On the road wi’ the rent party, we had a misunderstanding, and she left—then had a change of heart and chose to come back to see if the two of us might set things right. My heart was hard against her, that day here in the study wi’ Dougal, as you certainly will have seen, and I said what I did only so you and Dougal would understand the true reason why she left, and that there was no cause to suspect her of treachery.” He met his uncle’s eye directly. “But two days ago, Claire and I did set things right—more than right—and she agreed to become my wife.”

Colum nodded and reached for a quill. “An agreement that can easily be broken.”

Jesus, the calm and heartlessness of that statement. He all but snarled at his uncle,  “Absolutely not.”

“We’ll provide her wi’ a pension, if we must, to see that she’s—”

“No.” He was practically shouting, barely able to keep his seat. “I love her, uncle. I love Claire—and I came to speak wi’ ye today to tell ye so, and tell ye of my intention to marry her. I had no inkling of your designs for an alliance wi’ the Grants, and I’m sorry for the ill timing, but I’d never have consented even if Mistress Beauchamp were no’ involved. I’ll not be swayed—not for any price.”

Colum’s steely calm snapped and he snarled, leaning forward, white with rage, his finger pointed in accusation at Jamie’s face. “I got you your freedom—”

“Uncle, ye must—”

“—saved you from the noose, from rotting in prison,” he snarled, shaking his head slowly, like a beast about to charge, “and this, THIS is how ye repay me?”

“And I’m verra grateful,” Jamie said, marshaling his voice into calm, “but I didna—”

“Did ye think that I would risk my neck and clan and name only out of the goodness of my heart? Did ye think there would be no obligation expected of ye in return, boy?”

“If I deigned to presume,” Jamie hissed between teeth clenched so hard as to be painful, “the love for your own flesh and blood was enough to prompt such a kind deed, I do most humbly beg your pardon.”

“Love without duty is pure fancy,” Colum said bluntly. “Which is why ye will not be marrying Mistress Beauchamp.”

“I will be. You have my word on it.”

Colum’s mouth quirked up into a wry smile, the steely calm controlling his features once more. “Ye truly think ye can do this to me again wi’ no consequences?”

Again?” Jamie laughed mirthlessly. “To my knowledge, I’ve never turned down a marriage arrangement from ye before.”

“But your mother did.”

Jamie stepped back and pressed his lips together. Jesus, he hadn’t stopped to think on it, but she’d—

“Aye, you’ll ken the story,” Colum said, his eyes alight with a near-maniacal gleam. “Betrothed to one Malcolm Grant, and then up and decides she’d prefer to sneak off and swive in the heather wi’ your bastard father. And what your *bastard* father may not have told you bairns round the fireside—“

“Do NOT use that word in my presence.”

“—is that her actions, her heedlessness and SELFISHNESS nearly started an all-out war wi’ the Grants.” Colum thudded his fist onto the table. “This alliance is the reparation for that VERY slight, boy, and an end to the thirty years of bad blood between our clans that came of it. All that and more will be mended when you join wi’ Malcolm Grant’s daughter. I’ll no’ have it ruined because some Sassenach happened to walk her fine arse in front of ye.”

Jamie was already on his feet and gripping his dirk before realizing what he was doing. Colum’s look was defiant, as though daring Jamie to make him summon the guards. He couldn’t very well fight for Claire in a dungeon cell, and they both knew it fine.

Jamie clenched his hands behind his back and stared down at the MacKenzie across the wide desk. “If the marriage alliance was of such great importance, and ye esteem my leadership highly enough to have wished me to be laird one day, then ye ought to have spoken to me of Miss Grant previously, and no’ just have assumed I’d agree to throw my life away by wedding a stranger.” Jamie’s voice was calm. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m no’ your son, Colum; nor am I your logical successor, nor a ward, that ye might command me to bow to your will. I canna take responsibility for the choices of my departed mother—” Colum scoffed, and Jamie raised his voice, “—NOR will I be bound by an obligation I learned of scarce FIVE MINUTES ago. I SHALL go to Lallybroch with Mistress Beauchamp, where I’ll make her my wife and nothing you or Dougal can say shall—”

“Then it’s a good thing I sent word to the English garrison yesterday.”

Jamie’s blood froze. “What?”

Colum steepled his fingers, such a casual gesture Jamie wanted to reach across the desk and throttle him. “Oh, aye. About our mysterious Mistress Beauchamp, indicating my suspicions as to her character and purpose on my lands, and asking that they come and collect her, she being an English citizen, after all.” 

How could ye— how could—?“ His words choked off in rage. Claire, dragged to Fort William. Claire, in the hands of that monster, Randall. “How could ye have done such a thing, uncle?”

“Claire Beauchamp is nothing to me, to this clan, to you, save a liability. And while ye may not be my son, ye pledged me an oath, and you’ll honor it by arriving in the great hall tomorrow noon to make the formal oath to your betrothed in front of her father and the clans so that the wedding plans might commence, else…” He trailed off, leaving Jamie to imagine what the consequences for disobedience might be.

It hadn’t been an oath that Jamie swore those weeks ago, and Colum MacKenzie knew it just fine. A pledge to obey while on MacKenzie lands: Colum KNEW it was no more than that, and yet here he was, manipulating Jamie with such precision, to have him bound and trussed with no more than a word. Christ, that he should ever have been thought fit to take over the clan from this conniving man.

“Promise me you’ll not turn her over to the English,” Jamie demanded, his head was spinning. “Swear to me that you’ll send another message, telling them it was a misunderstanding— that Mistress Beauchamp is no longer under suspicion.”

Colum considered, then nodded. “I’ll send it by rider tomorrow. After you’ve made your formal vow to Edina.”

Jamie breathed. Just breathed, focusing on the filling of his chest. 

He rose and bowed to his uncle. 

“Then, I’ll abide by my word, my chieftain.”


Jamie was kissing me and it wasn’t a dream. Thank the bloody Lord: I’d had it up to here with dreaming. I reached up and twined my fingers in his hair, moving my hips up against him. He moaned into my mouth and slipped his hand under my head. When I grappled for him, though, he laughed and pulled back. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Jamie!” 

 He laughed again, landed one more good one, and then jumped off the bed.

I threw myself back hard onto the pillow. “You can’t just wake a girl up all sexy-like and then saunter off.” 

 “How’s about you saunter off along wi’ me?” 

His tone was playful, but there was an urgency in his movements that made me sit back up at once. “What do you mean?” 

He was moving across the room, gathering things into a satchel. “We must leave the castle— tonight.”

“We must—What???” But it all made sense: how I’d heard not a word from him since the garret, hadn’t seen him in the great hall. Something had happened in the session with Colum, and it wasn’t good.

 “I’m sorry for the suddenness, Sassenach, truly,” he said, placing the bag on the bed. “I’ll explain everything in full, I swear it, but we must leave, now.” 

Under his forced calm, I could sense the very real fear. “Jamie—are we in danger?” 

 “Aye.” 

 Honesty. The blatant, quiet honesty in him; yet another reason I felt so sure in him, in us. He would give his life to protect me, would tease and joke to put my mind at ease, but when directly asked, he would not lie to me. I’d lied to Jamie, I realized with a pang, but no more. There were no lies between us, nor secrets, and as ridiculous as it might have once seemed to me, I felt this man as an extension of my own mind. It was almost laughable, in fact, when he sat next to me on bed, a face on my palm and asked, “Do ye trust me?”

And I didn’t hesitate for a moment in replying. “Yes, I trust you.” 

He grinned. “And ye still wish to marry me, aye?” 

 *I* grinned. “Aye, I do, my bonny lad.” 

He kissed me. “Good. Then the greatest measure of our safety rests upon us being able to get off of MacKenzie lands. Only elsewhere am I in honor free of obedience to Colum. Only Colum’s no fool, so likely we’ll have to fight our way out of Leoch, this night.“ His control wavered, and for a moment, he looked truly distraught. “I’m sorry for putting this upon ye.”

“Just tell me what to do,” I said, running my hand down his face. “I trust you.” I kissed him back, though fear and exhilaration coursed through me. “And what’s the other measure?” 

The grin was back. “Making ye my wife as soon as humanly possible and taking ye to my bed to make things official.”

Taking the gift of his ease and humor against the fear of the night, I gave it back to him in kind, throwing up my hands in mock bewilderment. “How EVER will we bring ourselves to do it?”

He pulled a long-suffering kind of face as he pressed me rather scandalously back into the pillows. “‘Tis a grave task,” he said, nipping at the neck of my shift. “but I have a suspicion we’ll manage it somehow. Here,“ he said, dropping a pile of fabric at my shoulder, “put these breeks on and let’s get down to our business.“ 

Ah yes, just typical fighting-our-way-out-of-the-castle banter.

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tskazane  asked:

omg i just read your heart disease prompt and i am devastated so I wanna request another angsty prompt where MC has terminal illness and on her last day, Jumin sneaked her out to the chapel and they exchange rings and wedding vows. ((MC passes away when they kiss)) i hope you have a good day cause im gonna go cry in the corner now. thnak you i love you

I’m actually going to cry I was so close to finishing this and I was working on it for hours and it crASHED my crops are dying my family is starving

I’ll still do the request, however, It might not be as good as the original and I’m soo sorry!!!! I love you too though hun!! Have a fantastic day and enjoy <3

———————————————————————————————————–

You were sick.

Doctors hadn’t a clue of what it was, theories and ideas springing up with each new specialist entering your life.

But nothing that truly answered your question.

Perhaps because they couldn’t bare to tell you so.

And perhaps, Jumin knew that.

Each time they’d spring up another possibility the worry would sink deeper into his gaze, his arm coiling about you as though as long as that hand remained so did you.

Yet nonetheless, you two were just as inseparable as you always had been, whenever one went, the other followed. 

You had once spoken of a wedding, reciting vows to one another late in the night, snickering and laughing embarrassedly as you changed and edited the words.

Jumin however, became more so frustrated than anything.

“It’s not enough,” He muttered, erasing away at the scribbles on the paper, huffing as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“What’s not enough?” You asked, leaning over him, a gentle palm resting on his back. “What’re you talking about?”

“This,” He pointed to the paper. “It’s not enough! it doesn’t say enough!”

“What does it not say enough of?”

“It doesn’t say how much I love you not truly,” He huffed. “I know it can’t be put into words b-but I would hope it could at least capture a fraction of it!” 

That had amazed you.

Even as you began to wither away, confined to a bed with brittle bones, and a heavy chest he seemed to only adore you more and more with each passing day.

He would simply be getting ready in the morning, setting up his tie when he’d look at you.

And as though seeing a flower bloom for the first time, he’d smile.

“Darling, is it just me or are you getting more beautiful every day?” He sighed approaching you as you sat up, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“I think it’s just you.”

“I don’t agree.” He cooed. “Not in the slightest.”

He moved his workspace to the bedroom to be with you, sharing amusing tales of his first days with you, unable to hide his delight as you’d erupt into laughter, only having to stop when your throat grew hoarse.

And during the nights when your fears would take over, he’d hold you close to him, fingers weaving through your hair calmly as he spoke to you.

“It’ll be okay dear,” He hummed, looking to you with that same familiar, kind glint others didn’t see. “It’ll be okay I promise. This will pass.” 

It didn’t.

Your once merely heavy breaths were weighed down by cinder blocks now, your voice hardly ever breaking above a whisper, risking a fire igniting in your throat.

Your limbs were flimsy and thin like sticks by this point, more fragile than a leaf, the slightest pressure threatened to leave you in shambles.

But somehow, Jumin found a way to light up your world.

He had a habit of doing that. 

He came home from work, as usual, twisting around to the bed, eyes wide with anticipation as he spoke, ribboning his hand with yours.

“Love, can you stand?” 

“Can I…what…?” You rasped, looking up confusedly. 

“Please, can you stand?”

“Maybe…” You sat up, feeling your muscles heave at the sudden movement.

Jumin instantly came to your aide, grabbing onto your arm, helping you as you rose, tightening his hold as you staggered forward, landing on him.

“It’s okay dear, I’ve got you,” He assured you, a peculiar excitement budding in him. “Come on, let’s go.” 

He led you down the steps, carrying you to Driver Kim’s car, setting you down beside him. 

Driver Kim gave you a polite dip of his head, greeting you fondly as an old friend would.

“Where…where are we going?” You questioned, peering forward, crinkling your nose. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“A surprise…? Why?”

“I think it’s a bit more special this way.” 

You had continued to ask him questions here and there, Jumin clearly humored by your attempts yet not speaking a word.

Yet the answer had soon been revealed as you arrived.

A chapel.

Your eyes had widened like saucers at the sight of it, your jaw dropping. 

“J-Jumin I…” You let out a deep breath, in disbelief. “I didn’t even get to finish my vows.” 

“I know I spoke of having a grand and enormous wedding for you to show how precious you are to me but I…” He took your hands in his own, squeezing them tenderly. “I can’t help but think that as much as I’d like to think, we may not have all the time in the world, and all I want to do is to love you, to be with you.”

He laughed sheepishly, a hint of shininess in his eyes.

“I want to marry you.” 

He let out a deep breath, pure happiness in his voice.

“So MC, will you marry me?”

He had proposed before.

It had been late in the night, lights decorating the world around you as he knelt down, sincerity laced in his words, even through his flustered features.

Now the lights were dim and few, but the emotion was still just as prominent on him.

And just as then, your heart soared.

“Yes! Yes, of course, I will!” 

He chuckled, still in awe, kissing your knuckles before ushering you out, keeping you close as you stepped inside.

At the very end of the walkway, a priest stood, giving a small wave to Jumin.

“Hello Mr. Han, I assume this is your fiance?” 

“It is, MC, meet Mr. Cho, he’s going to marry us.” He explained. “I spoke with him last night.” 

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He greeted. “From what I’ve heard from Jumin, I think it’s clear to see how well of a match you both are.” 

“Thank you.” 

You followed along just before Mr. Cho, Jumin commenting on little things here and there to make you giggle.

It worked.

Simply just hearing him speak left you happy somehow.

He had a habit of doing that.

Even as Mr. Cho began, you never once pried your sight away from Jumin, the two of you seeming brighter than the very sun.

Yet your body began to crumble.

“A marriage is not measured by it’s size or its cost, but by the two who are wed. If their words are said in earnest and if their love for one another is true are what truly matters. Knowing that the care behind the promises will not fade with time, and that the hopes and dreams of one become the hopes and dreams of the other. Marriage is when two hearts become one, and when two souls become one as well, each supporting the other through this life and the next.” 

He glanced to Jumin, grinning.

“And I think it’s clear that your hearts became one, long ago.” 

Jumin stifled a laugh, his eyes glimmering with a shine that wasn’t sad but overwhelmed with delight unlike any other. 

You hadn’t even realized you were crying.

But you were.

“Jumin, do you take MC to be your wife, your partner in life and your one true love? Will you cherish her friendship and love her today, tomorrow and forever? Will you trust and honor her, laugh with her and cry with her? Will you be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?” 

He didn’t even hesitate, nodding. 

“I do.” 

Mr. Cho repeated the same to you, hints of his words blurring out in your head yet, all the same, connected, a warmth erupting in your chest. 

The rings were revealed, simple engravings with words lined on the inside.

‘My heart travels with yours’

“With these rings, you intertwine your lives as a symbol of the connection between your souls, when you look at these rings I hope you are not only reminded of this day but of each day that was brightened beside each other,” Mr. Cho, softened. “You may recite your vows.” 

Jumin placed the ring on your shaking finger, steadying in his palm, only focused on him as he spoke. 

“I vow to show you each and every day how you have changed my life in a way I could have never imagined. I know it can never truly add up to what you have done for me but I will spend each moment here on this earth to support you and to have you know that you are the absolute most precious thing in my life,” He chuckled. “As much as Elizabeth 3rd might be jealous. Nothing can compare to you.” 

And he began to cry.

It was silent, but the tears slipped from his eyes.

A bit of him must have known, your legs hardly able to keep yourself up, the world around you beginning to meld into one, the thumping and pumping of blood throughout your veins banging in your mind.

Yet as you placed on his ring, the words spilled out without effort. 

“I vow to do whatever I can each and every day to make those rough days a little better, to make you smile, and laugh, to let you rest and feel human, even if only for a while. I vow to shower you with adoration, even if it is only a fraction in comparison to what you’ve given me. I vow, to make you happy.” 

“Then, it is with great honor, that I pronounce you husband in wife,” He sighed, lightly. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Whatever little strength you had, evaporated as you stepped forward, Jumin’s arms wrapping around you, a hand cupping your cheek, wiping away a few of the tears.

And as if he knew, he whispered those familiar words to you one last time.

“I love you so much.” 

And as he sealed the space between you, you were barely able to respond before your last bits of life were snatched away.

A bit of you was glad you didn’t witness the aftermath, the realization quickly setting in, as he would let out a sob, rocking you in his arms, begging to you beneath his breath for you to come back.

You would’ve if you were able.

You would’ve never left in the first place.

Despite this, all of you was glad you left as you did.

With the common words, you said to one another every day.

“I love you too.” 

daredevil

au: an unfortunate dare sends both the victims spiraling into a disastrous pleasure.

warnings: LMAO GIRL TIGHTEN YOUR SEATBELTS YOURE IN FOR A MOTHERFUCKIN RIDE none

word count: 1764

Laughter erupted in the room, girls sitting around in a circle as they reminisced old memories. Junk food surrounded them, the scheduled sleepover was going smoothly, not care in the world. That was, things were. The mood, for Y/N, was ruined once so-called her best friend decided to bring out a ’little game’ for them to play. Games in general never sat well with her, one thrown by Perrie Edwards couldn’t be any better.

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anonymous asked:

Can we have a special Ben X reader fic for his birthday 😊❤️

A/N: okay I don’t usually do this but since it’s Benedict’s birthday I will 😁 so here’s a special birthday Ben X reader ficlet 😊 Happy birthday Benedict! 😄🎉

————————

“He likes you, you know…” You slowly looked up to Amanda who had a Cheshire Cat like grin on her face. You rolled your eyes and playfully jabbed her side and she flinched on the spot laughing.

“No he doesn’t, and anyway we’re friends and he seems happy with that,” you told her in a matter of fact voice. You were standing with her on the set of Sherlock, you had been casted as Mrs Hudson’s granddaughter back in 2010 and had been on a few episodes since then as well as other acting jobs. Amanda loved to tease you by constantly telling you that Ben liked you.

She looked at you with a questioning glare “Are you?” Amanda asked and her question whirled around in your head.

You didn’t have time to answer her as the director shouted “Places!” And you and Amanda rushed to get into character. “Alright everybody! Action!”

You watched Martin and Ben work, their acting was flawless and almost effortless. Well flawless most of the time, as soon as the thought went into your head Ben burst out laughing at ‘Johns’ witty remark.

You couldn’t help but giggle and Ben looked up over to you with a small smile on his face “Alright is everyone ready?” The director asked and Ben nodded, quickly apologising for his outburst before continuing with the scene.

You stood waiting with Rupert at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the flat, ready for the director to shout action. “I’m going to fee like the third wheel,” he lightly chuckled and you furrowed your brow.

“What do you mean? You asked, fixing your costume a little.

Rupert shrugged “Well when you two have a scene together it’s like you both enter a world of your own…” He trailed off and you looked ahead, composing your thoughts. Did that really happen? If it did you didn’t notice it.

“Everybody ready? 3…2…1…action!”

You ran up the stairs with Rupert “Morning Sherlock,” you chirped with a smile “I found Greg on the stairs.”

“Who?” ‘Sherlock’ asked.

You rolled your eyes “Lestrade!” Both you and ‘Greg’ said at the same time. You continued on with the scene perfectly, subconsciously trying to find this ‘world’ Rupert was talking about.

The next scene you were shooting was with Andrew, where ‘Jim’ had kidnapped you and ‘John’ and 'Sherlock’ would have to save you. “A little bird told me that you’ve auditioned to be Cleopatra in the Globe theatres production of 'Antony and Cleopatra’.” Andrew looked at you with a smile on his face, a far cry from his almost petrifying Moriarty expressions.

“Uh yeah I’m waiting to hear back from them. Apparently they might be casting David as Antony.”

“Tennant?” Andrew clarified and you nodded.

“Yeah but I’ll have to wait and see if I get the part first.”

“I know some of the production managers there, I’ll give them a call and sort you out,” Andrew winked and you gasped, instantly bringing him in for a hug.

“Thanks Andrew that would be amazing!” You let go of him and prepared yourself for the scene. You had to wait for 'John’ and 'Sherlock’ to untie you from a chair that was in front of a loaded gun with a timer. You got into character and the scene began. Your character had their eyes shut and you cried some fake tears, your eyes opened when you felt hands fumble with the rope around you.

“Sh-Sherlock?” You sobbed out and watched as Ben avoided looking you in the eye. You wanted to furrow your brows but did your best not to break character. 'Sherlock’ untied you before pushing you to the ground as the gun went off.

“Cut! Perfect take guys!” The director shouted.

You barely heard him though, you were too entranced with Benedict hovering over you. Ben snapped back into reality and out of the trance he was being pulled into with your eyes “So-sorry Y/N…” He stuttered out and helped you up before quickly going to prepare for his next take.

You let out a small sigh and returned to your trailer just as you received a call “Hello?”

“Y/N! You got the part of Cleopatra!”

—-

About a month later Sherlock was wrapping up filming and all the cast and some of the crew gathered around on set to celebrate “So Y/N…” Mark trailed off with a knowing smirk “Or should I call you Queen of Egypt?” You couldn’t help but smile and let out a giggle as the rest of the cast gasped with surprise.

“You got it?!” Louise asked with a delighted squeal before pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah all thanks to Andrew!” You smiled at the Irish actor.

“Oh nonsense! You got it because you’re the best bloody actor in the country! Come give me a cuddle” you walked over to him and embraced him in a tight hug “Congratulations.”

You stepped back and found yourself looking into Ben’s eyes “Congratulations Y/N,” you wrapped your arms around him tightly, inhaling his goosebump inducing scent.

“Thank you…Sorcerer Supreme…” You teasingly whispered in his ear with a smile before pulling back, only to be still held in his arms. You smiled at his surprised face, he never told anyone, or at least couldn’t remember if he told anyone “A little bird,” you told him and he clicked on. That little bird was always Amanda.

You went back to your trailer for the last time in the series to collect your things when the door opened “Ben! Hey!” You smiled and put down a box of your belongings.

“Hi…” He slowly drawled out “Uh I just wanted to say well done again for getting the part of Cleopatra.”

“Thank you,” you bashfully smiled “Congratulations to you too! Dr Strange?! That’s amazing! I loved those comics. Marvel are very lucky to have you. When do you start filming?” You asked.

“I head out to Nepal tomorrow then Atlanta after that…” He trailed off with a sad tone and you gulped.

“For how long?” You asked in a whisper.

Ben burned his gaze into the ground “Five months.”

You felt your heart shatter, you wouldn’t be able to see him in person for five months. It would be the longest you would have been away from him. “Oh,” was all you could mutter out before you put on a fake smile “Well I’m sure it will be an amazing experience!”

“Yeah,” he sent you a half smile “Who has been cast for Antony?” He asked raising a suspicious brow.

“David Tennant was cast, I’m looking forward to working with him!” You smiled.

“Yeah…lucky sod gets to kiss you…” He mumbled so quietly that you didn’t hear him. “I’ll come and see you before the production finishes, I promise.” He smiled and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. It lingered for what felt like hours “Goodbye Y/N.”

“Bye Ben…”

—-

Three months later you found yourself on the stage bowing for the final time as the crowd cheered and gave a standing ovation. You scanned your eyes across the crowd looking for a certain face but he wasn’t there. You tried not to let your disappointment shine through as you smiled and waved whist the curtain closed.

All the Sherlock cast had visited you, all except Ben. You sat in your dressing room that night, still in costume, looking at a photo from way back in 2010 at a young, fresh faced, Sherlock cast. You smiled and traced you fingertips over Benedict’s face with a sad smile. In the photo he had his arm around your shoulders with a large smile on his face. You both looked so young.

Your face had an even bigger smile on in. Sherlock was your first proper acting gig and from that your career propelled. A knock on the door snapped your from your thoughts and you hollered the person on the other side to come in. “Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned around seeing it was a backstage assistant “Um everyone has gone home but there is a person waiting for you on stage.” They smiled and left you utterly confused.

You walked to the stage, still in costume, and found no one there. That was until you heard a voice echoing through the empty theatre “I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay up thy lips.”

You flawlessly began to recite your lines as Cleopatra, quickly getting into character with a smile hearing his voice. “I dare not, dear,–
Dear my lord, pardon,–I dare not,
Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
Be brooch’d with me; if knife, drugs,
serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,–
Help me, my women,–we must draw thee up:
Assist, good friends.”

“O, quick, or I am gone.” You saw Benedict stepping out of the shadows in the most bizarre costume, quoting Antony. You couldn’t help but laugh at his attire and perfectly designed facial hair.

“What are you wearing?!” You laughed, clutching your stomach.

Ben smiled “Stay in character!” He told you and you managed to calm your giggles.

“It’s going to be hard when you look like that,” you waved your hand up and down in front of him as he joined you on stage “But alright.” You cleared your throat and composed yourself before continuing with your lines “Here’s sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
That makes the weight: had I great Juno’s power,
The strong-wing’d Mercury should fetch thee up,
And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little,–
Wishes were ever fools,–O, come, come, come;”
Your breath hitch feeling Benedict’s hands soothingly rub up and down your forearms. You continued speaking with a trembling voice as the strangely dressed actor in front of you made your mind spiral out of control with nerves. “And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out…”

Your voice was nothing but a whisper as you finished your line “You came…” You trailed off.

“I tried to come sooner, I wanted to see you. We’re filming in London for a few days, I’m sorry I broke my promise.” Ben’s gaze fell to the ground and you were quick to place a finger under his chin, drawing his attention back to you.

“You’re here now,” you smiled “Dr Strange…” You teasingly smirked and ran your fingers over his costume.

Benedict let out a bashful chuckle “Yeah…” He drew out “I came straight from filming. I arrived in London yesterday and we started filming straight away. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You smiled and propped yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek “You’re here now, that’s all that matters…and you got a private show.” Ben felt his cheeks burn when your lips left his skin and especially when you winked at him after the words 'private show’ left your mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered and moved closer to you.

You look down to your outfit and shrugged, lacing the delicate fabric between your fingers. “We have very talented costume desig-”

“No,” Ben cut you off “You look beautiful…” He trailed off and cupped your face with his scared hands, which you knew was special effect makeup. “Always…” He leaned forward and passionately crashed his mouth to yours. You couldn’t help but moan as he intertwined his fingers with your hair. He pulled back leaving your lips slightly swollen and tingling “How was that kiss?” He asked with a small smirk, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Amazing…I’ve wanted that for so long,” you softly whispered and peppered your lips across his own.

“Better than kissing David Tennant?” He asked, standing up straight with a serious look on his face.

“Much better,” you hummed.

“Good,” Benedict sent you a half smirk “I may have lightly threatened him not to kiss you that good.”

“Ben!” You burst out laughing and playfully slapped his chest. He laughed along with you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Do you want to come back to mine for dinner?” He asked with eyes full of hope.

“I’d love that.”

—-

“Benedict! Y/N! Benedict! Over here!” A hoard of paparazzi and press kept calling your name.

“They’re going to have a field day with us…” You gritted out with a smile directed in the direction of the cameras.

“I know,” Ben spoke to you in the same fashion “Spend five minutes with them then I’ll get you back to the hotel to get that dress off you…” He seductively trailed off.

“Ben…” You warned with a smirk.

It had been a few years since Ben kissed you back in the globe theatre and since then you both had been inseparable. You talked to a few journalists while Ben stood next to you, talking to others. “Firstly Y/N congratulations on your Olivier award for your role as Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra, secondly how are you enjoying the D23 Expo?”

You smiled and answered “Thank you so much! It’s absolutely amazing being here! I’ve loved meeting everyone and of course watching the Infinity War trailer. I’ve asked Ben countless of times for spoilers but he never tells me!” You laughed.

“You’re a big fan of Doctor Strange aren’t you?” The interviewer asked and you nodded “What other roles did you enjoy Benedict in?”

“Oh The Hobbit and obviously Sherlock. I love watching him work, it’s such an honour.” You smiled adoringly at the blue eyed man by your side.

“Does he attempt to deduce things when he’s not playing Sherlock?”

You let out a laugh and Ben glanced over to you with a gushing smile. “No!” You replied “Thankfully not! I mean he can barely say the word penguin so-”

“Hey!” He cut you off and placed both hands on your side making you jump “You said you’d never bring that up…” He sent a fake pout in your direction, one that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Sorry!” You defensively held your hands up “Sorry darling!”

The interviewer laughed “So are you planning on making Y/N Mrs Cumberbatch anytime soon?” The interviewer pressed.

You and Ben both let out nervous chuckles before you were both cut off by a voice “No! She’s becoming Mrs Robert Downey Jr!” Robert called from behind the both of you and you all burst out laughing.

“No she’s not!” Chris hollered “She’s going to be called Mrs Evans and we’ve already agreed to adopt Tom Holland!”

“No we haven’t! Plus I think Ben wants to adopt him!” You shouted back with a laugh. You felt Ben’s hand come around and gently brush across your stomach.

“I don’t think we’d have the space, love.” You smiled hearing the soft, whispering tone that lingered around your ear. “Sorry folks!” Ben waved “we’ve got to go!”

You walked off with him to a car “How long do you think it will take them to figure out we married in secret Mr Cumberbatch?”

“I’d give it a few months,” he let out a snort of laughter and pressed a kiss to your temple “Mrs Cumberbatch.”

The Ribbon

Request: Hi! Can i please request a legolas imagine where he and his s/o makeup after a big argument?

A/N: So here is a try on this request, I kind of focused more on the argument than the make up part but I hope that is ok! This is very long as well so a heads up there. Other than that, simply enjoy!

Word Count: 1604

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Soulmates

Okay. NEW SERIES! I had to do it because my love for AJ is beginning to over take my whole life. I did this one based off an AU prompt that’s been floating around. Basically the OC has an antique necklace that her grandma gave her that’s got supposed special powers to find her soulmate. She obviously doesn’t believe that, until she meet AJ Styles (the man she’s been crushing on for a while now), in person for the first time and something odd happens.
I hope you all like it!

Tag list: (Shield sisters get tagged no matter what. Even if they don’t like AJ, *Cough cough* Asylum *Cough, cough*) @i-kneel-for-king-loki @straight-outta-the-asylum @livingthestrongstyle @the-geekgoddes @geekoftv @planetahmane @ajstylesworld @littledeadrottinghood @thatwrestlingfan91 @lovemybtrboys @wrestlingbabe @xstylesxclashx @littlebluespoon @gurimujox @superrezzy00 @stardustmoonlightflower @blondekel77 @pjanina13 @wrestlingnoob @lady-laura-speaks @phenominalstyles @caffeineandreveries

Warnings: FLUFF
Word Count: 2869 (whoops)

Chapter One: Electricity

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12x20 Deconstruction: The “What the hell, what about Cas?” Exchange

Hey, peeps!

I don’t think I need to ring any bells or shine any spotlights on what this post is going to focus on. Because title. Also, this is going to be a long-ass deconstruction post so let’s keep the intro brief! I had a helluva lot of fun writing this! I haven’t gotten to write one of these in quite a while.

I do want to apologise for the dark screencaps I’m using throughout. I couldn’t find the gifs I wanted (I must learn to make gifs!!), but hopefully the screencaps do their job and illustrate what the hell I’m referring to. 

Right then, here we go!

12x20. After the cold open and the Supernatural logo we land on this image:

Dean’s hands, softly locked, his thumb doing a stroking movement, adding a sense of worry, tension, and then he starts speaking and either his clasped fingers are a sign of him praying (as I know others have postulated) or it’s more or less him wringing his hands with the emotional strain he’s under: either way, Dean is not stabile

Has he ever wrung his hands over anything? I mean EVER?

Dean: Okay, so last night… That Super Mario power-up crap? That wasn’t Cas. That freaking baby isn’t even born yet and it sock-puppeted him. Think about it - Cas said that he had faith in Lucifer junior? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Right. Oh, boy. The first lines of dialogue before us and already I’m pausing. Yup. Let’s dig in, shall we? Because there’s a lot of digging to be done here.

As with any other dialogue exchange on this show, we need to take a look at the backstory before we grab our spades and shovels. 

Where to begin? 

Why don’t we begin by asking ourselves this: what’s the scariest moment Dean has ever been through with Cas up until now?

Originally posted by tittigirl93

(LOOK at that FACE) (those GLASSY, TEARY EYES) (=FREAKED OUT)

Dean learned during the S11 narrative exactly how in love he is with Cas. This scene in the above gif, where Dean comes to realise that he’s unable to reach Cas (who always comes when Dean calls for him), I would argue is the scariest moment that Dean has ever experienced with Cas. 

I believe it even tops the near death of 12x12, because then Cas was himself, 

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