this is an awful picture for this prompt but damn it

Soulmate AU where:

When your soulmate is eating something you can taste it on your lips, just slightly. And maybe feel it on your lips too, like the powder of a cinnamon donut, except you can’t lick it away, so you’re just stuck with it like ‘damn you asshole, lick your goddamn lips! This is annoying!’

If they’re having cravings you do too. Sometimes you’ll get cravings for what you’ve just eaten.

If you taste something like strawberry lip gloss you know their either getting ready for a night out or kissing someone. Or maybe they just like the taste.

You constantly lick your lips when they’re eating something you like because 'oh gods this taste so good, what is it?’ or 'I haven’t had that in ages!’

You get jealous of the fact that they have such nice food ALL THE DAMN TIME.

When they’re eating something you don’t like you try to not lick your lips for so long. It gets annoying and is hard to do for a while so you just put on lip gloss. Then you think 'awe, man. What if they don’t like… And that’s why they put on lip gloss the other week?’

One day you try to send them a recipe. So you just, like, munch on a piece of toast, then lick some honey, then eat some banana so they’ll try your favourite meal and you’ll have that taste on your lips without actually eating it.

One day you think 'what kind of idiot eats peanut butter with jam - holy shit it’s an American! Or someone in America… Maybe they just like it? Oh god will I have to take 20-something hour flight to find them? Uuuhhhggghhh!’

You’re in the middle of a test but just can’t stop licking your lips because 'oh god glazed donuts…’

You can’t place a taste but you know you’ve tasted it before.

After going to Harry Potter world you realise 'it’s butterbeer!’ and then you try a butterbeer cappuccino or whatever and are just - 'goddamn it you jerk you ruined all my experiences!’

You start craving a signature dish from your town that is only served there. You go to the restaurant and see three people eating the meal, so you just walk up to the counter, order something that is nothing like the dish or something that you know that person hates because every time after you eat it you taste mouthwash.

You calmly sit down and just watch the people as you eat your meal. The person you least expected it to be - oh god it can’t be - looks up and is just like 'fuck’ and has that expression on their face.

They look around and see you. Their eyes widen at what you’re eating. You’re the only one eating it. You smirk and wave at them because 'haha sucker you laughed when I was teased about my soulmate and it’s you!’

Or one day you turn to your best friend like 'hey, can you see if anyone is eating -’ your eyes widened as you see they’re eating the EXACT MEAL you can taste.

Or a different ending where you follow a celebrity on Instagram and just see a picture of a steak with the caption being 'why the hell do I taste banana and honey… I’m eating a steak!’

And you just drop your toast. Your family stares at you as you squeal. Then you realise 'shit. That could be anyone.’ But you do taste steak… 'But anyone can be eating steak!’ You rush to the kitchen and pull out dark chocolate and go to the bathroom and start brushing your teeth.

Soon you see another picture of a steak and a caption of 'okay, now I’m tasting ANOTHER thing that clashes with my meal. Soulmate, please let me eat in peace… AND WHO HAS DARK CHOCOLATE AND TOOTHPASTE?!?! Will my future babies eat like this too? God save me…’

Something like that.

Sit Still--Imagine #20

Anonymous said: Crush sits cross legged on floor while the reader draws him and he has to stay still and it’s all cute and stuf!

A/N: Again, I apologize for all these imagines being written so late. I hope the people that requested awhile ago see theirs! Thank you all for requesting! Right now my ask box is closed and I’m not taking anymore requests until I get the old requests written. This is just one of many on the way. Keep dreaming!~Logan <3

Sighing again, I erased the same line I’d drawn at least 300 times now. 

“C/n!” I almost shouted, exasperated. 

“What?!” C/n asked, startled by my outburst since it’d been quiet in my room for awhile now. 

“Can you please sit still? I’ve been trying to draw your jaw and ear for the past, like, 30 minutes and every time I think I’ve got it down or am close to getting it down, you squirm and I have to start all over again!”

“Sorry, y/n! It’s just hard to sit in this position for so looonnggg,” he said, dragging out the last word. 

I let out a frustrated growl and he smirked. 

“Well, what position do you prefer?” I rubbed my temples in frustration. 

I swear, I loved this boy but he sure knew how to test my patience. 

“Mm, missionary, to be honest,” he shrugged, his face devoid of emotion like it always was right before he cracked up at his own joke. 

“Ugghh, fuck you!” I whacked him in the arm with my sketchpad, his shoulders shaking as he roared with laughter. 

He could be so immature sometimes. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love his immature sense of humor. 

“I wish you would,” he smirked, eyes shining with mirth.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” I grumbled, crossing my arms and glaring at him. 

“Why?” He asked, sporting a shit-eating grin.

“Because if you weren’t I’d be using this pencil to stab you, instead of using it to draw your stupid cute face.”

“Oh my god, am I your muse?” He asked dramatically

“No, you’re my pain in the ass,” I rolled my eyes. 

He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically, “She called me her pain in the ass.”

“Alright, Romeo, calm down. Now can you please sit still?” 

“Only if I can sit on the floor, cross-legged,” he said, smoothing his clothes. 

“Anything to get you to sit still,” I said, moving off the chair I was sitting on, to plop myself on my floor. 

He stepped off the stool I’d sat him in originally and sat cross-legged in front of me. He turned his head to the side like he’d had it before, clenching his jaw. 

I dragged my eyes away from the delicious site of his side profile to sketch it more accurately. A few minutes had passed, the only sound in the room was some relaxing music I’d put on low, the sound of lead scratching over paper, and our soft breaths. I had moved on to drawing c/n’s broad shoulders, trying to get the shading and outline right when c/n’s voice broke the silence. 

“I never asked you what your project was for, y/n.”

I almost dropped my pencil, leaving a crooked line that I quickly erased.

“It’s a drawing project,” I said, trying to avoid answering truthfully. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” out of the corner of my eyes I could see a smirk on his face before he went back to talking. “I mean, why’d you pick me for it? Every assignment you’ve gotten so far in your drawing class has come with some prompt. Some reason behind why you’re drawing the thing.”

I pretended not to hear him, pretended I was too engrossed in shading the wrinkles of his loose hoodie. 

“Y/nnn,” he dragged out my name in a taunting way. 

My cheeks heated up and I bit my lip. There was no way he was going to drop the subject. He knew when he was getting under my skin. 

I huffed before mumbling, “I’m supposed to draw someone…that–umm–that…”

“That?” He asked, his voice gentle, coaxing me. 

“That I–basically a person–well someone…someoneIadmire,” I blurted, the words coming out slurred into one. 

I had finished drawing his hoodie and realized that the line of his upper lip hadn’t come out right. Trying to distract myself from the fact I’d basically revealed my true feelings for him, I looked up to study his lips only to find his wide eyes staring back at me. 

“I have to get your lips right,” I said, my voice sounding strained. 

Feeling awkward under his unwavering stare, I cleared my throat. He wasn’t turning his head back to the original position so I decided to take control. I shuffled forward on my knees so I was close enough, and reached a finger out. Slowly, my finger glided over the curve of his jaw and I heard his breathing shallow. I applied slight pressure as my finger reached the side of his chin. He obediently moved his head to the side. I let my finger linger on his skin a moment longer than necessary before pulling away and settling back in my original place to start again on drawing his lips. 

It seemed that my words had sent c/n into a strange kind of trance and anxiety settled in my stomach. 

My tongue stuck out as I tried to re-shape his lips on my paper. I looked up again to find c/n had moved his head to stare at me again. 

“On second thought maybe I should’ve chosen someone else. You can’t seem to keep your neck turned,” I chuckled softly, finding his antics more cute than annoying like I liked to act they were. 

“Sorry, it’s just hard to resist looking at you for even a little bit,” he mumbled, turning his head again. 

I frowned, wondering where my confident, snarky boy c/n had gone and how a shy boy with flushed cheeks had come to take his place. 

My own cheeks flushed at his confession, but I tried not to take it to heart. He couldn’t possibly like observing me, staring at me. 

“It’s alright, but just try to hold your head in place for just a little longer. Lips have always been tricky for me to draw and yours are giving me an especially hard time,” I chuckled, trying to lighten the tension in the room. 

“Maybe you should kiss them,” he suggested and I dropped my pencil my eyes flying up to look at him. 

Of course, of all times he chose this one to keep his head turned away from mine. Still, I could see the edge of his lips quirk up a bit in one of those rare smiles that he gave when he felt equal parts shy and equal parts bold. 

“And just what do you expect that will do in helping me with drawing them, hm, c/n?” I asked, crossing my arms. 

“If you can feel the grooves of my lips, you might find it easier to draw them. Drawing may be all about observing visually, but I think it benefits you when you observe sensuously as well,” he said.

I just sat there, my head fighting between what I desired and what I logically knew to be smart to do. 

“What harm could it do, y/n?”

I breathed deep. He was right. What harm could it really do? A million answers to that question ran through my mind but I focused on him instead. The delicious way his lips were frozen in that soft grin, the adorable bend of his nose, the way his eyelashes curled just the slightest at the ends. 

I moved to sit in front of him, his head still frozen in his pose. Finally, our eyes met. His were adoring and in awe, gliding over my face, drinking me in. I moved in, slowly, until my lips were just brushing against his. Internally, I was screaming, shouting for joy, and laughing giddily but externally all that I could do before I pressed my lips completely to his was let out a weak breath. 

What registered first was the slightly chapped texture of his lips, and then the softness of them underneath that. And finally, the fact that he was not pressing back into mine.

Pulling back abruptly, and overcome with embarrassment, I looked him in the eyes. 

“Why–why didn’t you kiss me back?” I asked, my confusion quickly turning into panic. 

“Because you told me to stay still,” he answered, eyes dancing with mischief, his breath shallow which told me I wasn’t the only one affected by what I’d just done.

Shaking my head, I let out a breathy laugh while rolling my eyes playfully. That’s when he gently placed his hands on either sides of my cheeks and pulled me in for the sweetest kiss. 

As we pulled back and regained our breath, I giggled, “You may be the worst model ever, but you’re the best damn kisser.”

“Well, then you’ve gotta keep me around. Especially if you plan on drawing any more pictures of me and need more help with…observing…my lips,” he chuckled.

“Oh, I’m keep you right where you are,” I laughed, before he pulled me in for another kiss. 

Open Wide

2,500 Followers Drabble

Prompt: “No decision should ever be made at 2am!“

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Requested by: @dustycelt

“Morning, Sammy!” Dean bellows cheerfully strolling into the kitchen.

“Wow, you’re in a good mood considering it’s before noon.” The younger Winchester responds with a smirk.

“I have a stupid study group thing.” Dean groans, rubbing his hand over his face.

“That’s…new.” Sam quirks an eyebrow suspiciously.

“I’m doing awful in my Econ class, man. It’s the only reason I’m putting myself through that cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Ahh gotcha.”

“At least I can have a heavenly slice of apple pie before I go. I literally woke up craving it.” Dean licks his plump lips practically drooling at the thought.

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multiotp  asked:

"I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE ANY MORE!" "I DON'T RECOGNIZE MY SELF!" That's in all caps because I see it as screamed. Can you do that for boyf friends sorry I'm so awkward and used to being able to hide behind anonymous but I've fallen in love with your writing lately. Only if you want to you don't have too

I FINALLY DID IT AH! So sorry it took me so long, I could go on about exams and all that shit but I’m sensing you will hopefully get the picture.
Regardless, thank you for the prompt/request!


It was a Saturday night and the boys were spending their time wisely - playing video games in Michael’s basement. They weren’t sure how long they had been in there but neither bothered to care.

Finally, after hours of waiting, Jeremy was released from hospital. After the eventful school day on Friday Michael had offered that Jeremy stay at his house that night to catch a break, and Jeremy whole
-heartedly agreed. As soon as they arrived home, Jeremy collapsed onto Michael’s bed and fell asleep, exhausted from all the questions he had received that day. Michael soon followed suit and before they knew it the two woke up at 3am on a Saturday morning.

Now, with nothing else to do, the boys were still playing video games. Eventually, the inevitable red with white text ‘GAME OVER’ flashed onto the screen, ending the particular match.

“Awe come on!” Michael complained, setting down the controller and flopping onto the beanbag behind him. Jeremy sat adjacent, frowning at the TV. “I thought we were finally gonna beat that one!”

“Y-Yeah…” Jeremy replied, still staring at the TV. After a few seconds passed, Michael sighed, hoisted himself upright and went to eject the disk from the console.

“Woah Michael, we were playing-”

“Not anymore,” he announced, returning the disk to its place on the shelf. “I wanna play something I know we can win.”

Before Jeremy could question him, Michael pushed an unknown disk into the slot and bounced back into his beanbag just in time to see the words ‘Apocalypse of the Damned’ appear on screen.

“Oh…” Said Jeremy in response.

“Come on dude,” Michael cheered, grabbing his controller off the floor and hitting play. “This one is no match for us.”


An hour later and Michael was seriously starting to worry about Jeremy. Not only had they not gotten past their usual warmup match but had been stuck in the same God damn area for 60 whole minutes. And Micheal knew something was up when Jeremy didn’t respond to his usual code words for 'Zombie, right behind you’ or 'Use the axe not the riffle for this one’ - the list went on. Eventually, he jammed down on the pause button and turned to face his best friend.

“Ok, what happened?” He demanded, snatching the controller from Jeremy’s hands.

“W-what?” Jeremy stuttered in response, completely oblivious to his best friend’s reasons for questioning.

“Something’s up, I can tell. You’re usually great at this game bro! Even better than me. But something’s off tonight.” Micheal shuffled closer and rest his head in his palms. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Jeremy shifted awkwardly on the beanbag, trying not to meet Michael’s gaze.

“I..I-it’s nothing really I just-”

“It’s the Squip isn’t it,” Michael said, instantly recognising the type of hesitation he was being given. For the past few hours Michael had tried to ask Jeremy about the Squip but all that he received was the same 'it was nothing’ stammer each time.

Jeremy looked up, something shifting in his demeanour.

“I don’t want to play this anymore.” He stated, slowly and every words feeling like a drop of venom.

“W-what?” Michael said in response.

Jeremy locked eyes with Michael and arched his back so that he was sitting upright. He spoke even clearer.

“I don’t want to play this anymore”

“Yo Jeremy, dude, calm down.” Michael started, reaching out to his best friend. But Jeremy flinched backwards, slapping Michael’s fingers away.

“D-don’t touch me tall ass!” He cried, falling off of the beanbag and into the floor. Instantly he recognised the words that he had spoken, covering his mouth with his spare hand. But Michael had already heard them.

“W…what did you just call me?” He stammered, slowly rising from the beanbag. Jeremy climbed off of the floor to meet him, stuttering an attempted apology.

“I didn’t mean- that’s not what I - fuck - Michael I, that- that wasn’t-”

“T-Tall ass?!” Michael cried, stepping away from Jeremy. “What the hell dude?”

“No Michael I-”

“What happened to you?” He questioned, louder this time. “What has he done to you Jer? Was it worth it? Making you popular but turning you into… this?”

“I don’t-”

“Dude I don’t know who you are anymore-”

“I DON’T EVEN RECOGNISE MYSELF!” Came Jeremy’s answer. Michael flinched at the sudden increase in volume, eyes flying up to meet his best friend’s. Jeremy’s bright blue eyes soon began to fill with tears as he slumped against the wall.

“He’s gone Michael… but he won’t go away…” he muttered, head flying into to his hair. “Everything I do, I can still hear that voice in the back of my mind telling me what I’m doing wrong, mirroring his exact words. And I do it! I listen to it, because that’s what I’ve been programmed to do.”


“And you know what the worst part is Michael? That voice isn’t even real! It’s inside my head, because it’s my voice. It’s me telling all those things. I CAN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT MICHAEL! I-”

Jeremy was interrupted by the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and pulling his close into Michael’s chest. The boy hung on tightly, head hidden in the crook of Jeremy’s tear-stricken neck. Soon, his hands lowered from his hair to return the hug and the two slowly slid against the wall onto the floor.

No words were spoken between the two, just the action of each other being there was enough. The soft hum of the console filled the basement, the smell of candy and Mountain Dew carried through the air.

Eventually, Michael spoke, breaking the silence.

“I don’t care what he told you Jeremy, but you will always be my player two and nothing will change that ok? We’ll fight this, and we’ll come through stronger.” He tightened the hug between them. “I’ll always be here for you Jer.”

The tall boy smiled, returning the pressure of the embrace. He couldn’t help the shift in his smile as he spoke:

“That’s what friends are for yeah?”

Michael’s expression wavered as he responded.

“Yeah… best friends.”

Flood my Mornings: The Battle of the Gamete

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  All Fat (Jamie and Claire finally tell Bree about the baby) 

February, 1951

“Alright, now, Dr. Fraser…” Jamie prompted, poking her with his big toe as he read from the next card. “Tell me, what is the….‘Law of Segregation?’”

Posits that allele pairs segregate randomly from each other during the production of gametes—allele pairs separate during gamete production and thus the sperm or egg carries just the one allele for each inherited trait— and when sperm and egg come together at fertilization—each contributes an allele, restoring the paired condition in any offspring.” 

Finishing her slew of learn’ed gibberish in a triumphant rush, Claire bobbed her head once—quite like a musician that’s just hit the final note to their satisfaction— and looked over at him expectantly from her end of the sofa. 

He studied the card and nodded sagely. “Aye, that’s verra good— Looks as though you’ve got that one down as well.”

 She raised her eyebrows. 

“Aye, WELL,” he grinned, “that is to say, ye spoke a good number of words and verra confidently, forbye.”

 “Lazy oaf,” she mock-scolded, snatching back the card to look over it herself. “A word or two off, but pretty damn close.”

 “See? Confident.” And that’s verra impressive, lass.” He took the card back and re-read the definition silently to himself, shaking his head. “When ye explain the concepts to me, they make some sort of sense, but trying to read your books myself, the words seem as inscrutable as ancient Egyptian scripts.”

“They did finally translate those, you know,” she said absently as she flipped through her notes. “The Egyptian hieroglyphs.” 

“Truly? How?” He grinned. “Did someone travel through your wee stones to get it sorted out?” He abruptly stopped grinning as he reflected that this was not, after all, so very outlandish a proposition.

“A stone of a different sort helped crack the code,“ she explained, though her mouth was quirked up at the irony. "Uncle Lamb took me to see the Rosetta Stone at the British Museum, once, when I was young. Not much to look at for a seven-year-old, to be honest, but it opened up entire fields of study of ancient civilizations and their languages. Worth seeing in one’s lifetime, certainly.”

“That’s a wonder, and no mistake,” Jamie said, feeling truly awed that mankind since his own time had not only expanded the limits of new innovation, but had plumbed the mysteries of the ancient past as well; not to mention the deepest working of the invisible realms of blood and bone, exploring places smaller than any eye could see or imagine. 

And in the many times these last weeks when he’d helped her with her studying, he’d often thought that perhaps the folk of Cranesmuir, the folk of Paris, even, hadn’t been so very wrong in naming his wife a witch, for she prophesied, and no mistake. For if the Laws that she’d recited and so patiently tried to explain to him were to be taken as fact, she knew for fact that the child within her could never have brown, grey, or green eyes

He pictured it like a great, pounding battlefield, the body of the wee babe—the Traits the warriors, armed and ready to make their stand for eternal glory. The Browns—they were the most vicious of the clans, the most ruthless and unyielding. Their steel was sure, and nearly always their opponents were vanquished by their mighty blows, or so cowed before the Donn brutes that they fled in terror before swords were raised…. 

And yet a courageous Gold and an unlikely Blue had defied the odds in the two battles before, each leading their clans through the fray in an almighty charge against the foe, and managed to raise their colors, to rout the Dominant forces. Thus triumphant, those legendary victors would not let their territory be ceded. Only one of *their* colors would fly over that hallowed field, and over their alliance. Only *future* marriages with Browns or half-Browns might see a change of banner in their descendants. 

….but the Gold and the Blue were assured of their place in the songs. They would be remembered. 

He hoped it wasn’t painful for the babe, to have such turmoil taking place in the deciding all the details of its formation. He scooted closer to Claire, close enough to cup the child in it’s sleeping-place. Dinna fash, wee one, he thought, all things will be well, soon. 

One of Claire’s new terms flashed through his mind, and he decided to try it out, glad of the chance to test his bare scraps of understanding. “So, the ‘gamete’ is…like what you’d call our wee bairn, at present, aye?”

“Close—gamete is before the sperm—seed, I mean—and egg come together. Once they do, it’s called a zygote,” she said, rattling off the progression on her fingers, “but just at present, he or she is technically called a foetus; or ‘fetus,’ as I’m apparently going to have to start spelling it.”

Jamie banished the absurd — not to mention disturbing—image of a wee goat with human feet prancing about in there, and only laughed ruefully. “It’s a good thing it’s you becoming the physician, Sassenach. If it depended upon me to learn all this, we’d be ruined.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Jamie.” Her face was soft with a concern that warmed his heart.  “Don’t think just because these terms are new to you, you couldn’t— ”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he assured her. “I ken I’m no’ a complete fool, and that I’m fully capable of learning whatsoever I wish….Same as I’m capable of climbing up the Mountain Kill-A-Man-Giarro ye told me of. It’s only a matter of how much I want to kill THIS man,” he pointed theatrically to the top of his head, “in the trying.” 

“Forget medicine, you could have a career in comedy, if you wanted!” she hooted. He laughed along with her and pulled her feet up into his lap, gratified to hear her groan in relief as he removed her socks and began to rub. “Oh, darling, that’s wonderful — THANK you.” She let her head loll to the side against the back of the sofa. “You’ll put me right to sleep with that.”

“Well, and sleep, ye should,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “Ten o’clock and you’ve the examination in the morning.”

“Bright and early,” she confirmed through a yawn, wrapping her arm around the bairn. “But I’ve got to keep studying for at least a bit longer. I did well on the first exam, and I don’t want to get cocky and blow it.”

He raised one foot and placed a kiss on it, making her giggle. “You’re doing a magnificent job, mo chridhe—at all of it.” 

He didn’t feel as though as if he were doing much of anything, compared with what she had to manage. She’d cut back to just two days per week at the hospital to allow for more time for her studies, but even so, a job, keeping up with Harvard’s demands, advancing pregnancy, and a two-year old together added up to an astounding level of demand and responsibility. He rubbed her leg tenderly, his gaze serious. “You’ll tell me if there’s anything more I can be doing to help?”

“I promise,” she said with a sweet smile, leaning forward to kiss him.

He obliged, taking her face in his hands. He had just brought her mouth to his, when she jumped and cried out as though stabbed. “Christ, Claire, are ye —?” He reached for her face, panicked— but the expression on it, the direction of her gaze told him everything. 

He dropped the hand at once to her belly to settle between both of hers. “Is it — he’s — she’s — ?”

She nodded and pursed her lips, glowing with quiet light as she held the child, as tightly as she could. “Hello there, little love.”

 “Oh, lass…” Jamie moved quickly to kneel on the floor beside her, kissing her cheek and wrapping his arms around her. “What does it feel like?” he asked, as he leaned his head against her shoulder. The wonder in his heart, the hope— “Is it kicking?”

 “No, still early for that. It’s just the first quickening,” she said, blinking hard and smiling. “It’s a bit like — like popcorn in my belly.”

 “Like—what kind of corn?”

 “I’ll have to make you some,” she laughed. “I just mean it’s like—little bubbles popping.” She shook her head, awed, in another place, by the look in her eyes. “So she’s—he’s— really in there, then…” 

“Did ye doubt it?” 

“No,” she murmured softly, “just…it’s good to feel him…her…to feel that there’s a tiny person in there, not just some rogue germ that’s silently infected my body.”  

“Well, and it is rather like a wee germ, is it not?” he said gently, tracing wee circles on her belly. “Tiny living creature that feeds off ye, unseen?” 

She leaned her head against his, giving a soft laugh of agreement. “Well, let’s hope it grows up far more cute and capable than a germ.” They were just a warm bundle of happiness, together, voices barely more than a whisper, as though heeding Brianna’s threats against waking the babe. 

“Wi’ the way its mother is,” he said, reaching up to touch her face, “I canna honestly see how it could fail on either point.” 


“No’ flattery: science….The Genetics dinna lie, aye?” 

They shook together with silent laughter, but at length, simply let the quiet of the night fall over them. He’d carry her to bed, when she’d fallen asleep, and ensure she was up in plenty of time for the two of them to drive into town for her examination. His back did ache and his knees would punish him for it in the morning, to be sure; and certainly she’d wanted to study, longer.  

Just at present, though, there was nothing more important than this.

Exercise Is Fun

I aim to please. @swanemma this one’s for you, doll. Although, tbh it’s just as much for me. Emma doing pull ups, in an entirely different setting than the hospital.

Rated E. 2.2k words

Killian was confused upon entering his bedroom one day to find an odd metal contraption nailed above the door. It was black and red, consisting of two long rods sticking out of the wall with some sort of foam padding at the ends and a long bar secured across the top.

He meant to ask Emma about it when she finally returned home that evening, but when she walked through the front door, hair tousled from the wind, there was only one thing on his mind. It involved the bedroom, yes but not that particular piece of equipment.

The next day, he arrives home to a seemingly empty house. Since he’s moved in, if she’s there, he has always been greeted by Emma, either from the living room or kitchen or by her running down the stairs, a hug and a kiss and a blinding grin on her face. It warms his heart down to his toes each and every time, to know she’s there, waiting for him to return to their home. So, considering that it’s the afternoon and she’s unlikely to be asleep, he assumes she’s out when he doesn’t hear so much as a peep from her.

Emma taught him a phrase once, not long ago, about how when one assumes they “make an ass out of you and me.” He’d thought it was funny at the time, his humorous little Swan. When he treads up the stairs to their room and hears a grunt, he recalls the conversation for a flicker of a moment.

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anonymous asked:

aw could you write a little something about awkwardville dean trying to seduce cas and failing miserably?

Anon, it would be my pleasure.

I tried to combine as many of the prompt requests that I could into one drabble! Here’s @tenoko1 ‘s “Dean or Cas stumbles across fic” prompt, and the two anon prompts I got: awkwardville!Dean trying to seduce Cas, and frat boy AU.

It is so endlessly entertaining to write Dean as an awkward, sloppy mess.

Jo leaned back in her chair, head thrown back and eyes rolled skyward. “This is just criminal.”

Dean raised an eyebrow from where he sat beside her at their table. The student union was packed today, but Dean and Jo had managed to secure a small booth for themselves in the corner and were taking advantage of the space.

“Hm?” Dean asked, voice muffled by the enormous portion of pork fried rice stuffed in his mouth.

Jo groaned and turned her laptop around. “Look at this. There are hundreds of entries today on the Stanford Crushes page, and I’m not in any of them.”

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the first fic I’ve written in a while that doesn’t suck!!!!

College AU for the few people who requested the “Lance and Keith get detention but Lance is sick” fic. However, since high school AU is not my jam, I tweaked it a bit so they can be older, and it’s a college AU. There’s a line of dialogue in here I’m actually really fucking proud of myself for so I hope you like it!

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anonymous asked:

51 with Jeff Hardy?

Prompt: “Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?”

The light shone through your thin curtains waking you up. Letting your eyes flutter open you stretch felling the arm round your waist grip tighter and you a nose nuzzle into the back of your neck. Giggling you lace your fingers through Jeffs’ and gently run your finger along his tattooed knuckles. He starts peppering kisses along your shoulder, turning onto your back you place a loving kiss to his lips causing the both of you to smile.

“God I almost forgot how nice it to wake up next to you.” Smiling down at you Jeff untangled your fingers and ran his hand up and down your side.

“Mmmmm. Bed is to cold without you.” You turn and bury yourself into Jeff’s embrace, placing a few kisses to his bare chest, loving how warm he was and how his natural scent made you relax. Chuckling at your actions Jeff placed a kiss to the top of your head pulling you tighter into his embrace and the two of you lay in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. soon you could hear soft snores coming from Jeff signaling he’d gone back to sleep, he had a busy schedule at WWE so when he was home you always wanted him to rest. Jeff being Jeff would have none of that. Always insisting on making up for lost time by taking you on day trips and shopping sprees even though he was ehausted. So today no matter what he said you two were going to relax and he was going to be the one who was spoiled. Carefully you lift the arm that was around your waist up and slid out of his grasp, placing his arm gently back on the bed and pull the covers up over him. Grabbing one of his shirts you pull it over your body loving how soft it felt against your skin and the smell making it seem like Jeff was constantly with you. Heading downstairs you turn on some TV deciding to leave breakfast for a little while longer. Looking down at your phone see a message from Reby.

R - Morning sweetie ;) How are you this morning?

Y - Great! How are you guys?

R - We’re great thnx ^_^  Glad to have your man back? ;) Any plans for today? Matt and I were wondering if you too lovebirds wanted to go to the movies with us :3

Y - I think we’re gonna pass :( just spend the day in. Jeff seems pretty knackered :/

R - Oh I see “spend the day in“ ;) no problem sweetie, we are going at 7 to see the film incase you change your mind :)

Y - I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks Reb! :)

You place your phone down on the couch next to you starting to get engrossed in the current episode that was playing on TV. About half way through your stomach started to rumble.

“All right, Geeze I’ll make breakfast.” Picking up your phone you play some music while you get some things for breakfast. Grabbing some mushrooms, bacon and eggs you decide to cook an omlette. You were to busy dancing and singing into the spatual to notice Jeff stood in the door way. He was grinning like an idiot, he was so in love in love with you and you’d been together for nearly 10 years. Matt and Reby always teased him about when he was going to ask you to marry him, the truth was he wanted to marry you more than anything in the world but he was terrified of loosing you. Of course Jeff was married before you but after Jeff left the WWE shit hit the fan, he was injured and arrested so it’s no suprise when his marriage broke down, the divorce almost killed him and his ex-wife and he didn’t want that to happen to you. To him still being with you but not actually getting married would somehow be better if things did go wrong, however you lived together and as mentioned before you’d been dating for nearly 10 years, Jeff had even spoke to you about maybe having kids in the future. Of course he had explained to you why he didn’t want marriage and you fully understood that, yes it hurt a little that you wouldn’t get to have the wedding most girls dream of but at least you had Jeff and that was good enough for you.

As you spin round singing a particulary high note you see Jeff stood in the doorway, sweatpants hung low on his hips and deep in thought. Walking over to him he perks his head up and smiles at you. Wrapping your arms around his neck he snakes his arms up under the shirt to rest on your waist.

“Sorry. Did I wake you.” You ask, gently rubbing his shoulders, seeing him relax at your touch.

“No you didn’t love. Don’t worry. I did get lonley without you though.” He smiles, moving his hands to your back to pull you closer, leaning in for a kiss when your chest reaches his.

“What were ya thinking about just now?”

Jeff sighs dropping his head onto your shoulder. “Just stuff, us, the future.”

Shifting slightly you pull away looking at him concerned, bringing your hands down to rest on his chest you feel his heart racing. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Marry me?” Jeff looks up with so much hope and love in his eyes. Your heart practially stops and you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

“What?” You manage to choke out, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“Will you marry me? I know I don’t have a ring or anything but we can go pick one out together and at least you’d get one you liked. And yes I know I said I didn’t want marriage but that was before and this is now and I want you to be my wife. I want to wake up everyday and tell people ‘hey this amazing, beautiful, caring woman is my wife’. I think we should start a family together and I don’t want our kids to grow up with mom and dad not being married. I was scared of loosing you but I mean you’ve stuck with me this long and I’m scared by not marrying you I’m gonna push you away. I can’t picture a future with us together, without us being married. I’m just so in fucking love with you that I can’t keep fighting it anymore.” You practically couldn’t see Jeff throught the tears that were welling up in your eyes, it was hard to process what he had just said.

“Jeff….why now…. where are you going with this?”

“Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?”Jeff nervously chuckled scratching the back of neck looking hopefully at you.

“Yes.” You manage to breath out, wiping away your tears. “Yes. I’ll marry you. Yes I’ll go crazy with you……..Yes.” His face erupted into the biggest grin you’d ever seen and it takes one long stride for him to reach you, picking you up you wrap your legs tightly around his waist as he supports your thighs with his hands. Connecting your lips you tangle your hands in his hair,  the kiss was passionate yet soft, your tounges exploring each others as if it was the first time. Pulling apart with slightly swollen lips, Jeff nuzzled his nose with yours before letting you down onto your feet, arms still wrapped around you. “I love you.” he muttered against your lips, smiled you pecked his lips once more.

“I love you too.”

“So, wanna go ring shopping today?” Jef smilled, winking cheekily at you.

“Can we at least have breakfast first?”  Chuckling when you hear your stomach growl again.

“Sure thing princess.” Kissing the top of your head he moves past you to resume breakfast.

“Wait till Reby and Matt hear about this, they’re gonna freak.” You chuckle grabbing your phone to call them. Jeff just laughed as you came up behind him dialing Reby for a facetime.

“Hey you two! You both look aweful cheer for this time in the moring!” she chuckled to herself getting comfy on her couch.

“Look we don’t have time for your sass Reb, go get Matt.” Jeff comments finishing off the breakfast.

“Okaayyy……. MAATTTTTTT!!!” Moving the phone slightly you shake your head at her antics. After a few minutes Matt finally appears in the frame.

“Sup guys?” You glance at Jeff as Jeff glances back at you, both of you with massive smiles plastered on your faces.

“Do you wanna tell them or me?” You ask Jeff as plates your finished breakfast and moves it to the side so he can move to stand behind you, head on your shoulder and arms wrapped around your waist.

“You can.” He smiles kissing your shoulder.

“We’re kinda getting married.” You grin at the camera, watching their faces light up.

“Oh my gosh really?!” Jeff noded his head rubbing your stomach with his thumbs.

“Congrats you two! Took you long enough buddy. What did it take? like 3 years planning?” Matt joked to his brother causing you and Reby to giggle. “I think you owe me $20 babe.” Matt spoke to Reby this time.

“Damn it!” She huffed handing the phone to Matt so she could presumably get her purse.

“You were betting on this?” Chuckling at the pair as Reby returns with the $20.

“She thought you’d be married with in 5 years, I said  you’d be married by year 10.” 

“I’m gonna kill the both of you for betting on this.” Jeff shook his head reaching for the phone. “Right guys thank you for the congrats and reminding us what terrible people you are. But we need to have breakfast and go ring shopping byyyeeeee!” Jeff didn’t give them time to answer as he hung up the call, placing your phone on the counter. Jeff grabbed you food and set the plates down on the table turnning round to see you smirking at him.


“3 years planning huh?” You walk towards him as Jeff looks at the floor rubbing the back of his neck again.

“Well sort of…..I may or may not have said to Matt that becasue of you I was kinda reconsidering the whole marriage thing. It still terrified me but I was definatly thinking about it more and more.” Smiling at him you gently cup his jaw and pull his gaze to yours.

“Well don’t be scared love, I’m going to be with you every step of the way.” Smiling sweetly at him you pulled him in for another kiss.

“Thank you for being patient with me and for putting up with all my shit.”

“I’d do it all over again if it meant I still got you at the end.” Jeff pulled you into him and the breakfast on the table was soon forgotten about.

Prompt from this list.


believe-that-you-can-my-friend  asked:

I'm here for the domestic!bughead prompts!! how about engaged Bughead looking through photos in order to use one for their wedding announcement on the paper but they stumble across their old childhood and adolescence ones and they end up laughing at how awful they are and zooming in on those that one of them is pulling a face or a photo that was captured at just the wrong moment and teasing each other and you know ALL THE FLUFFY FEELS! <3

Ahh, thank you for the cute prompt, m’love!
I blame @lusterrdust and her adorable fic ‘feels like home’ for all these damn domestic feels <3

Jughead didn’t bother looking up from where he was editing the newest chapter of his latest novel as he heard Betty entering their living room. At least, that was until she settled down besides him, unceremoniously plucking the device from his hands and resting it on her lap. He looked at her incredulously, a smile twitching at the corners of his slightly open mouth.

“What do you think you’re doing, Betts?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and angling his body towards her. She didn’t notice his surprise, or if she did she chose not to indulge him, busying herself with plugging her hard drive into the laptop and finding what she wanted.

“Just borrowing this,” she chirped, scrolling through the endless files that popped up on the screen. He chuckled.

“So what, I put a ring on your finger and suddenly you think what’s mine is yours?” he quipped sarcastically, leaning in to try and catch her eyes, his own glinting with mischief. She cast a smirk at him,

“Conventionally, yes.” He settled back against the sofa with a laugh, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “We need to find a picture for our engagement announcement,” she told him. He groaned in response.

“Do we really have to do that?” he whined, biting his lip against more protestations when she turned to him with a stern look.

“Mom phoned, again. If we don’t give her one to print by the end of today god only knows what she’d choose. You don’t want to face the wrath of Alice Cooper, do you?” Jughead shivered in mock horror. Everyone had been surprised by how little resistance Alice had put up against Jughead dating her daughter, but still he knew all too well what her bad side looked like and it was not a place he wanted to be.

“Wait, what’s that one?” Jughead asked, pointing to a folder on the screen labelled ‘oldies’.

“Oh, I’d totally forgotten about that!” Betty shrieked, clicking on it immediately, an array of images lighting up before them. One trait that Betty had been happy to claim from her mother was her organisational skills. She’d been putting every photo she could find into categorised folders since she could remember. “Oh, my god!” She tapped on one, enlarging it on the screen.

It was their kindergarten class photo, twenty or so chubby little faces grinning back at them. Jughead spotted Betty quickly, like he always did, standing slightly off to the left, her smile a little more subdued than some of the toothless grins of her classmates, but her face just as bright. The rosiness of her plump cheeks matched the tiny pink roses on her yellow sundress.

“I hope our daughter looks like you,” Jughead whispered before he even realised he was speaking. His eyes went wide as her head whipped sharply to face him. His face was burning as he looked down, fiddling with the hem of her sweater in embarrassment.

“Our daughter?” Betty asked in adoration, her eyes shining. He chanced a look back up at her, tension in his chest easing at the hopeful look plastered across her face. He cleared his throat, smiling timidly.

“Well, yeah. If we have a daughter, I mean,” he stuttered out lamely. He felt Betty lean further into his side.

“I hope we do,” she mumbled, turning back to face the screen, a new warmth spreading throughout Jughead’s chest. “Oh, Juggie!” she squealed, pointing to the other end of the photo. Standing there, tiny denim jacket and all, was a little Jughead Jones, crown beanie slipping down over his eyes until all that was visible was a peek of dark hair and a toothy grin.

“My mom knitted it big, said I’d grow into it,” he chuckled, looking at his younger self. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“That you did,” Betty joked, chucking him under the chin. Jughead swatted her hand away playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s move on, shall we?” He tapped the arrow, shifting along to the next picture. Betty gasped. It was her and Archie, a couple of years older than the last photo, sitting on the grass in the park they used to play in. Archie’s head was thrown back in laughter, his red hair glowing in the summer sunshine as Betty gazed adoringly on. But that wasn’t what stopped her breath. There, slightly out of shot was Jughead, fixing her with the same expression she knew she’d given the redhead countless times throughout her youth.

“I always saw you, Betty, even if you didn’t see me yet. I always knew,” Jughead leaned down to whisper against the shell of her ear. Betty turned her head once more, capturing his lips in a delicate, feather-light kiss. They pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes as Betty felt the comforting new weight of the ring on her left hand. This was right, this had always been right.

She blinked back tears as they resumed their trip down memory lane, cute childhood memories slipping into the awkward phase of early adolescence. Betty threw her head back, laughing freely at a particularly bad shot of the both of them at someone’s birthday party. She zoomed in on Jughead’s face menacingly.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had so many chins, Juggie,” she teased, shrieking as his fingers danced against her side, relinquishing her control over the laptop. Jughead seized his opportunity, zooming in on her face instead, her expression blank but her eyelids half open and eyes rolled slightly back into her head.

“Yeah, well you never told me you were possessed in our youth, Regan,” he scoffed, holding his fiancee off as she attempted to snatch the device back.

“Wait, Juggie, stop! There’s one I want to see!” she struggled, sitting back with a huff before he finally relented, placing a sweet kiss on the side of her head. “Look, do you remember this being taken?” He turned to face the screen.

They were on the school field, high noon sun shining down on them as they lounged around in the summer heat. Betty was leaning back on her elbows, face turned up into the light slightly, rays catching the highlights in her golden hair causing her to emit a subtle glow. Jughead was lying next to her, propped up on his elbow, looking down at Betty with pure and open adoration in his blue eyes. The angle of the light was captured perfectly, shrouding them in a spotlight against the green of the grass. Jughead looked down, catching a glimpse of the way their hands, barely noticeable behind Betty’s hip, were locked with one another by their pinkies only.

“This one,” she said, her voice getting stuck in her throat slightly. Jughead nodded, tightening his grip on her.


Kacchako Week Day 7: Fragile

(This was the first idea I had for this prompt. Let’s see if I can pound out the second one afterwards…)

Something Only They See

Years have passed, goals have been gained, and as similar as he was to the boy of his high school years, he was also completely different. He’s learned to compromise (somewhat), he’s learned to not be afraid to lose (even less than somewhat), and he’s learned how to carve out a huge piece of his life to fit someone else in it (a lot).

Most of all, Katsuki has learned to care a little bit more- to look at someone else’s face and see exactly what lay underneath the veneer presented. Though, honestly, he’d only cultivated that skill for one other person and she was walking through their shared apartment door two hours late without the usual spring in her step. Even her permanently flushed cheeks seemed paler. She called out an absent-minded ‘I’m home’ as she toed out of her sneakers.

Katsuki set down the phone he hadn’t been obsessively glaring at for the past two hours and shoved his hand in his pockets.

“You didn’t float your phone into fucking oblivion again, did you?” he asked shortly, trying to sound more angry than worried.

Ochako glanced up sharply, eyes blinking wide, guileless, and bewildered. The bewilderment faded the more her big, brown eyes scanned over him- the casual suit, the yellow tie she’d bought him last year, the almost tidy style to his rat’s nest hair. Her already pale face blanched to ashen, pupils dilating to pinpricks as guilt struck her like a blow to the face.

“Oh no,” she gasped, straightening to her fullest height and covering her mouth with her hands. “I totally forgot! I can’t believe I forgot!”

Tears were brimming the edges of her lashes and that’s when he knew. Katsuki had known since their first year in UA that Ochako was bright, bubbly, and annoying cheerful, but she wasn’t a pushover. Her reasons for being a hero were different from his, so vastly different, but no less important. She would throw herself recklessly into harm’s way to attain her goal, just like him. Only being K.O.’d would hold her down. So, Katsuki knew that Uraraka Ochako was not fragile.

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lovinglaurens  asked:

prompt idea: trimberly going on a picnic together where Trini used to meditate! :-)

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t peek yet, we’re almost there.”

“I’m blindfolded. I’m pretty sure I can’t see a thing.”

Stumbling along uneven footing, Trini hears the chirping of birds off in the distance and feels the shifting ground crumbling beneath her feet and she knows they’re in the quarry. Kimberly had the bright idea of surprising her for their first year anniversary, which resulted in Trini blindfolded for that extra ‘wow’ factor.

Kimberly’s unbridled excitement and giddiness makes Trini’s heart do flips, and despite the cheesiness of it all, she’s always secretly wanted this lovey dovey shit but just never imagined it would ever come true; until now.

They stop after several more minutes and a couple more stumbles. Kimberly’s firm grip on her hips leaves and is replaced with rustling.

“Can I take this damn thing off?”

“No!” Kimberly shouts in a panic. “Just - just give me two more seconds.”

Trini chuckles sarcastically before muttering into the wind. “You know, when I first pictured us using blindfolds, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

She can practically feel Kimberly’s embarrassment radiating off her body, but then firm hands grip her shoulders and then rotates her to the right.

“Okay, now you can open your eyes.”

Ripping off the offending itchy cloth, Trini blinks momentarily from the sunlight before her eyes widen in awe.

They’re on top one of the highest cliffs in the quarry, one of the many places that Trini would visit in her own solitude to clear her mind, far away from the tumultuous clamor of the city. When being in the house became too much or when the disappointment in her parents’ voices weighed heavily in her heart, this became her home away from home.

A square red and white checkered blanket like something straight out of a romance movie lay safely from the edge with a woven basket and a bottle of wine sticking out of the lid. Trini doesn’t question how Kimberly got her hands on it, but she knows she has family problems of her own and doubts that her parents would even miss it.

Trini’s absolutely speechless.

She’s never had anyone do this for her. Nobody ever made her feel so special, let alone give her the time of day, but here Kimberly has done it all and gone above and beyond.

Kimberly fidgets in place, her eyes trained nervously on the shorter girl.

“I hope you like turkey sandwiches. I wanted to keep it kind of simple so… yeah.”

Trini’s eyes sweep over the spread, over the love that’s gone into the whole preparation, over the entire location. She feels the welcoming breeze on her skin and sees the overlooking town and it builds and builds until her heart burgeons with such powerful emotion that she can barely contain it from exploding out like the fourth of July.


There’s a crackling in her chest and the fireworks light up the sky in her heart and she realizes it’s far too late to hold it back.

Her vision starts to blur and it’s taking all her strongest willpower for it not to flow out like a river, but Kimberly sees the mist in her eyes and her expression turns to one of utter disbelief.

“Oh my god, are you crying?”

Trini punches her girlfriend in the shoulder before pulling her into a tight hug. Kimberly’s arms wrap around her smaller frame and she feels warm and safe and everything that a home should feel like.

“Thank you.”

Kimberly ruffles her hair and smiles. “Happy anniversary.”

Why Did You Wake Me? (Peter Quill/Guardians x reader)

Sequel to Just Let Me Sleep

1. #1 (Please don’t go) with Peter Quill Prompt- He doesn’t want you to leave the Guardians to stay on Earth please

2. @overcaststeverogers said: 33 (I want my best friend back) - Rocket Raccoon!

“I have never seen a container like this one, no,” the shopkeeper said, studying the control panel that was flickering as the power began to shift.  “I’ve seen similar, but this particular model is quite old.”

“Hey! We’re the same age!” Peter exclaimed, looking at the team for support but receiving only annoyed glares.  “She’s not old at all, thank you very much!”

“My apologies sir, but in cryogenics it’s hard to tell.  She entered at this age and was put into stasis. I don’t have a way to know how long ago that actually was.”

“Well, I knew her,” Peter sighed, running his hand over the glass above your face, always looking at you as if it were for the first time.  “And I need to get her out, no matter how long this takes.”

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anonymous asked:

Would you mind doing number 3

I would not mind at all! Here you go, nonnie :)

3. He’s been gone for quite a while

“What are you doing?” Charity frowned at Vic and Adam as they seemed to be re-enacting a scene from the Chuckle Brothers as they tried to stick a banner up along the far wall of the pub.

“Trying to put this up,” Vic explained, as if it wasn’t already obvious. “Adam, it’s not level!”

“Jesus Vic, Aaron won’t even notice,” Adam sighed, quickly losing interest in the task he’d been set.

Charity narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she tried to read the message on the banner with Vic and Adam both standing in her way.

W E L C O M E  H O M E

“Who’s that for?” she asked dismissively.

“Aaron and Robert,” Adam answered, sighing as Vic nudged him again to move his side of the banner up higher. “They’re back off honeymoon today,” he answered, shooting a beaming smile in Charity’s direction.

“Ahh, have you missed you little friend?” Charity teased him.

He rolled his eyes back at her, only half concentrating as Vic finished off fixing the banner to the wall.

“Well, he’s been gone for quite a while, ain’t he – ”

“And Robert has,” Vic reminded him, unsure why her brother always seemed to get forgotten about.

“Yeah, but what with this and prison I feel like I’ve hardly seen any of him for the past few months,” Adam replied.

Vic and Charity shared a look of feigned sympathy between them.

“Aw, bless,” Vic teased him; Charity joining in with her.

“Shut up, alright,” Adam moaned back. “I’m more looking forward to having a hand at the scrapyard again, to be honest.”

“Well that’s charming.”

All three of them turned to see Aaron and Robert sauntering into the pub, bags in hand, Aaron shaking his head with mock disapproval at overhearing Adam.

“Oh mate!” Adam beamed as he made his way over to him, embracing in their familiar brotherly hug. “You know I’m only joking,” he added with his arms still wrapped around Aaron’s shoulders.

“Yeah, whatever,” Aaron laughed. “Back at work tomorrow then am I!”

“Damn right,” Adam teased, pulling back and offering his hand out for Robert to shake as Vic peeled herself off her brother and hugged Aaron.

“Sort us a pint, eh, Charity,” Robert requested, smiling as he realised she’d already started pouring them one each.

“Come on then, tell us all about it,” Vic grinned as she took a seat at the bar, “What did you get up to?”

Aaron and Robert looked to one another, mouths open wide and smirking as if they were looking for something to tell her, both of them breaking into simultaneous laughter when they realised they hadn’t got much they could offer that was fit for public consumption.

“Oh, right, I get it,” Vic smirked knowingly. “I don’t wanna know! Guessing you hardly left your hotel room?”

Aaron smirked sheepishly and dropped his head, unable to hold her gaze, focusing instead on the pint that Charity had placed before him and letting Robert take the lead.

“We did,” Robert insisted. “We saw Liv and her mum, and Chas. But there wasn’t much we could do and they limited the visitors at the hospital. So we just did a lot of sunbathing…and…celebrating,” he added with a knowing laugh, placing his hand against Aaron’s shoulder as they stood next to one another at the bar.

Charity rolled her eyes at them.

“Got any pictures? It’s meant to be like paradise over there,” Vic asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, probably got a few on my phone,” Robert answered as he took his phone from his pocket, not thinking as he got his gallery up on his screen and tapped on the first image of the view from their hotel room.

He passed his phone to Vic, looking at the screen as she swiped through the images, explaining each one in turn, from the picture of Aaron on the beach, to the bar they went to for drinks most nights, and a few of the places they’d eaten in. There was one of Aaron and Liv, too, and one with Chas.

She flicked onto the next image – a blurred shot of their hotel room floor – and Robert had a moment of realisation about what image would appear next in his photo gallery.

“And that’s enough!” he let out suddenly, eyebrows raised, as he grabbed the phone back from his sister just in time.

Aaron glanced up at him, wide-eyed as the realisation hit, and he stared up at his husband in disbelief at what had almost happened. He thought he’d die of embarrassment if those images were ever seen by anyone other than his husband.

“You two are unbelievable,” Charity sighed, shaking her head as she smirked towards Vic and Adam, all three of them sharing a knowing laugh about what they’d just narrowly avoided.

“You’re just jealous,” Robert shrugged, before leaning down and placing a kiss against his husband’s temple, making a mental note to make sure those pictures got moved pretty sharpish to the hidden file on his phone where he kept the rest of them.

Aaron Dingle was for his eyes only.

I’ve read a lot of “stiles talks about Derek to people and nobody believes him” and god knows this trope will never grow old to me.

But listen.


Alpha!Derek in a universe where the Hale!pack is a real thing, with puppy piles and pizza nights and beach days with everybody. Derek happy and loved with a solid pack around him.

Now, imagine this Derek having to go back to New York for some reason, and his old college friends inviting him to crash at their place. And they are happy to see him again, because honestly they were so fucking worried.

A few years ago Derek was this taciturn, closed off student in their history class. The one they only started trying to talk to because he looked like a murderer and Drew had a creepy obsession with mystery books at the time. The one that took months to tame. And even after that, Derek used to cringe when they tried to touch him, only answered with vague sentences and sometimes had this awful, awful terrified look or almost stopped breathing for obscure reasons.

Honestly, Jess and Jason had a plan for the end of college, where they were going to marry each other and adopt Derek, then spend their lives taking care of him. Jess never wanted to have a kid anyway, so it was a win/win.

Then he disappeared in the middle of the year. And never came back. So now that he’s back in town for two weeks, they are putting the plan back on tracks.

Jess and Jason have prepared a room just for him, and Drew and Cynthia and Jim have basically created a settlement in the living room with a lot of pillows and air beds.

When Derek arrives, he is the same as always, all silences and tiny, tiny smiles. They learn after only ten minutes than laura’s now dead and God, this man’s life is so awful that Jess has to bodily prevent Jim from petting Derek while crying.

And they try not to suffocate him too much and respect his boundaries. Really. But God he is just too tragic and they fail. badly.

And the more derek talks about his imaginary friends, the worst their worries are. Because they would have doubted anyone trying to convince them the live this perfect life inside a mansion with all their best friends in a weird hippie’s way. But this is Derek. Their Derek.

And while they know he does that to reassure them, it’s only making everything worse.

Also he named one of these imaginary friends Stiles. Derek’s not-really-my-boyfriend-but-he-is-perfect is called Stiles. Derek is oblivious, Jim is two days away to just ask him to marry him -straightness be damned- just to show him that people love him there, and Drew is trying to organise an intervention.

So they are with Derek in a park, because it’s sunny outside and they have this idea that forcing Derek into the sun will maybe chip off a little bit of the tragedy that surrounds his life.

And the pack arrives.

Because they wanted to surprise him and make good memories in New York and not let him alone with bad memories (also, Erica and Scott want to make stupid pictures at the top of the Empire State Building).

So Derek’s friends only have the time to see Derek looks more constipated for a seconds, then Smile, big and amused with all the cute bunny teeth and the dimples. Then he is drowned under what seems to be a football team made of underwear models.

And I just want to read a PoV of Derek’s friends while living the pure insanity that is the pack.

They all pile over Derek and sleep on each other everywhere, like the most aesthetically pleasing orgy ever. Derek touches them all the time, and they touch right back, and it’s so surrealist.

One day Jim walks on Derek’s nails getting painted by four girls, each one with a foot or a hand in their hands. Derek is laughing. Jim moonwalks back into his room to freak out.

Also, Stiles is real. And really freaking hot. And smart. And funny. And salty. And disgustingly in love with Derek. Jess and Jason speaks to him for five minutes before treating him like a long lost beloved friend. Drew and Cynthia tries to hit on him anyway, because come on. They have eyes.

Anyhow. I just want stories of the pack in New York, trampling all over derek’s bad memories and being lovable dorks all around him while Derek is happy.

And his friend just go along, trying to understand if their friend didn’t fall into some Weird new age sexual sect. (Also why the pictures of the wolves? Because I wanted to. That’s pretty much it. But look at their awesome faces)

I had an awfully disturbing thought considering the aftermath of real!Ciel’s arrival

I’m probably spamming the shit out of the 2CT tag, which, I apologize, but considering I have a very vivid imagination I tend to easily get myself hyped up for these sorts of things. 

I want to say, undercut, there are some possible triggers regarding suicide! So please avoid reading on if you’re really uncomfortable with it ^.^ (I hate talking about this sort of thing too, but like, this thought is drilling a hole into my head ;;)

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anonymous asked:

I LOVE YOUR IMAGINES. Can you do another imagine with tyler? There are lot of these but i love them and i need more!❤ i need imagine where tyler and the reader get into a big fight but tyler accidentally admits a love for the reader ❤❤

got your ask about this, anon, seeee I did get it! Thank you for your saying you love my imagines, it’s always such a boost to hear that stuff anon! 😚
I hope you like it ~

788 words, Tyler Down/reader

As was the usual position for you to be in at lunch time, you sat in the quietness of the library with your head in a book. Sometimes you hung out with your friend, Tyler, but he was always off taking pictures or developing them for the yearbook. So you sat alone.

Or, this time, not so alone, as the mechanical clicking of a camera would suggest. You’d heard this around you everywhere else in the school but never, ever in the privacy of the library.

You automatically clicked on who it was in your mind, Tyler was at it again, taking endless photos of you. Flipping the cover of your book closed you leant back on the creaking wooden chair, folding your arms and giving an annoyed look at the ceiling. 

“Tyler, I know you’re there.” you snap. The rustle of shoes against carpet comes from your left as a tall figure comes into view from the corner of your eye, inviting himself to take a seat. “Seriously? What the fuck, Ty, can’t you leave me alone, ever?” 

He looked hurt, very hurt. Feeling bad, you softened your face but it didn’t unboil your blood. 

“Sorry, it’s for the yearbook,” Tyler defended.

“Oh, wow, the usual excuse,” you huffed, trying to keep the silent moral of the library. “I swear to god, I never get peace from that camera. Ever occur to you that I don’t always think I look that great? Ever think about how maybe I don’t want my picture taken every minute of every day?” voice rising to a broken yell, disapproving looks and sharp hushes came your way, making you wave a hand in dismissal. 

“You always look great, y/n, never worry about that,” 

“Sure, whatever. It’s not about what you think, Ty - sometimes I’m not all too confident about my face and stuff and I’d appreciate it if you left. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” giving him a false sense of kindness you quickly switched back to a pissed off demeanour about you. 

“Don’t be like that! You’re gorgeous, always picturesque - there’s no one that’s like that here, I swear, you’re the only person who’s always perfect for these pictures,” 

“Surely you have enough for the ‘yearbook’ already?” you mocked his constant excuse for the camera always in someone’s face.

“Some of them aren’t just for the yearbook…” he mumbled, projecting his voice towards the wooden tables with age old carvings of names and rumours in them. 

“Excuse me?” you were damn near furious, what the hell was he doing with them if not pasting them into a book that everyone was bound to toss away?

“Some of them aren’t - look, you’re gonna hate me for this, but I take pictures of you to just keep for myself, to have of you and-”

“What? The fuck? Why?!” 

“-and it’s because I love you, y/n!” he shouted this, earning sniggers and sideways glares from the people trying to get some peace in the library, just as you had been doing. You were dumbfounded. He loved you? You weren’t so furious, almost flattered now, but did he even know you well enough to love you? “I keep you in pictures, because I know you won’t go out with someone like me; girls as popular and funny and stunning as you won’t ever give me a second glance.” Tyler spat out these words, tears sparkling in his eyes. 

“Of course I will, Ty, all you needed to do was talk to me,” you comforted him, still a little freaked out, but mainly felt awful that he’d felt like this. Thumbing at the tears slowly dragging their way out of his eyes, you rubbed at the fabric of his hoodie comfortingly, trying to reassure him. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you, but you really need to just talk to people,” 

“As opposed to being a freak and stalking them around?” 

“You’re not a freak… but yes to the other part. I’m proud that you got the courage to tell me, but I wish it’d happened another way…” 

“At least it happened though, right?”

You thought this over, studying his face and remembering all the times you’d had together. You had to admit, he was a little cute, and was definitely going to treat you better than most of the other guys here - you knew that much from the little amounts of conversation you’d had with him. Maybe you liked him a little, too, but you weren’t so sure about loving. 


“Right, at least it did.” You smiled at him, the words you’d both yelled a little while ago fading in your mind as you placed your hand upon his, squeezing lightly. 

sarascaredycat  asked:

fluffy-ish prompt: Brian and Dan adopting a kid?

Brian/Dan: Adoption 

Brian knows Dan is a good guy, a wonderful man, amazing husband, the best friend you could ever ask for. He’s endlessly talented, an eager and caring lover, funny as all hell. Brian knows all these things about Dan, but he also knows Dan isn’t really a kid loving kind of guy. Dan likes kids, likes his nephews, but as far as being naturally inclined towards children…well, Brian knows Dan really isn’t.

It makes him nervous when the topic of kids comes up in their marriage. They’ve been married three years now and Brian is ready. Dan…he isn’t sure. He’s scared because their options are limited. He’s scared, as silly and awful as it sounds, he’s scared somehow that if they adopt a child that Dan won’t bond with their child, won’t consider it his in a way.

It’s that fear that put off their conversation for another year. Brian never forgot, the urge never faded. He wants a child and finally he broaches it with Dan. To his surprise Dan agrees, smiles, says, “I think I’m ready to be a dad. I know I can do it with you by my side.”

They settle for adoption, at least as their first choice. They both had agreed that there are so many kids out there that need homes and help and they can provide both. Brian can see a list of cons, gay couple, older men, their history of sexual related videos scattered across the internet. He can see a million reasons why someone wouldn’t give them a kid and he’s scared.

The process isn’t easy, it’s damn hard, but by some luck they are chosen. They are set to adopt a three-year-old girl. She has tanned skin and dark hair and big bright eyes that crinkle when she smiles. Brian loves her the second they show him a picture. He loves her and feels his heart shift, feels it swallow her up. He feels the word daughter tie in knots around his body. He looks at Dan and he wonders if he feels the same. Does Dan feel that connection? Does he consider her theirs already? God, he hopes so.

“She’s beautiful,” Dan says and his voice sounds awed.

Her name is Maria and Brian and Dan decide not to change it. It’s a part of who she’s been for three years and they don’t want to erase it. They go and fill out the correct paperwork, they name her Maria Ruth Avidan-Wecht.

The first time they meet her Brian nearly cries. He doesn’t want to scare her so he holds it back, but she’s small and gorgeous and she blinks at them with big and nervous eyes, her hand holding loosely on to the caretaker with her.

“Hi,” Brian says softly, his knees aching as he squats on her level, “Hi, Maria. I’m Brian.”

“Hi,” Maria says back quiet, her voice a tiny pearl in the room.

“I’m Dan,” Dan adds from next to Brian, his eyes happy and a smile on his face. He definitely doesn’t look like he’s going to throw up.

“Hi, Dan,” Maria says and her hold on her caretaker’s fingers loosens.

They visit her on and off for a few weeks, spending more and more time with her. Brian thinks about her all the time, at home, at the office, whenever he isn’t with her he thinks of her, of his daughter, and craves the day they can be a family.

At home her room is set up, designed in pinks and purples and soft blues and greens. She has toys and clothes and books, all the things the Grumps and Dan and Brian had gotten for her. The only thing missing is Maria.

Finally, the day comes, after weeks of playing with her in the foster home’s playroom, of making her laugh and reading her books, and nearly crying when they have to go home without her. Finally, she is theirs.

“Papa!” Maria says when she sees Dan and Brian enter the room. She had taken to calling Dan papa, calling Brian Dad or Daddy. Maria runs to Dan and Dan is quick to scoop her up in his arms. To hug her and spin her and make her laugh. Brian’s heart is about to burst, “Papa! Angela said that I get to go home with you and Daddy.” Maria touches Dan’s cheeks, focusing him to make sure he hears her.

Dan nods and then he passes Maria off to Brian so she can hug him too.

“It’s true,” Brian says, “You get to come home today.”

They leave with her, their daughter buckled safely in the backseat of the car. Brian driving and Dan talking excitedly with her, and all of Brian’s fears seem so far away, so distant and silly compared to now. Dan loves her, adores her. Everything is perfect.

quiet-hubris  asked:

can i request 4 with burr/laurens? <333

(for passersby, here’s the prompt meme. Prompt is:  Making them a friendship bracelet after years of marriage) Enjoy <3

Aaron had been at the computer for a long time. He wasn’t sure how long, having lost track of time somewhere along the way. The case wasn’t done, so he wasn’t done. Alexander had been needling him again, about motivation and commitment. As usual.

There was a mug of tea by his side. Aaron did not remember where it came from, certain for a fact that he had not gotten up to make it. Unthinkingly, he dipped a finger in- it was ice cold. It also wasn’t there the last time Aaron had looked up from his work.

Carefully, Aaron took stock of his surroundings. A plate with crusts sat further out- but hadn’t John brought him soup? No, that was earlier, he’s had the sandwich sometime later. Aaron blinked, surprised to find his eyes dry and irritated. He stretched, there was a painful kink in his neck.

Aaron took a peek at the clock, and winced at the time. “John? Dear?” His throat rasped. A trickle of guilt wormed its way into Aaron’s chest. John had been quietly taking care of him all day, and he’d barely even noticed. Aaron knew John had damn good reasons for hating that.

Almost stumbling, Aaron stood up and poked his head out the study. The lights were on, but the big living room windows revealed the incriminating pitch-black outside. “You here?” Aaron wouldn’t blame John for going to bed. He was not being a charitable spouse.

Somehow, though, John was curled up on the couch, under a blanket but awake and with a book. His head poked up at Aaron’s voice. “Finally done, sugar?” His smile was small, a little uncertain.

Aaron’s guilt doubled. “Yeah, I’m done. Sorry for ignoring you all night, you didn’t have to stay up for my sake.”

John’s smile grew, a touch more genuine. “I stayed up because I wanted to. Of course, whether or not I forgive you is dependent on what you do next.”

The words only made Aaron’s heart fall. “I’m sorry. You know I won’t be able to sleep right away after this. It’s my fault for letting Alexander wind me up, I know, but all I can think about is that case.” It wasn’t the first time Aaron had overworked himself and tried to sleep right after, nor the first time John tried to help him sleep anyways. “I can lie in bed next to you, though?”

Somehow, John’s smile did not fall, and did not morph into that disappointed look when Aaron refused to take care of himself. “Not that. Somehow, after years of marriage, I’ve learned that much. But I’ve been looking online, and I found an interesting idea. One to distract you.”

“Oh?” Aaron felt a smirk growing. “What kind of thing online?” His voice went low, and he moved over to John’s side. “I wouldn’t mind a distraction.” Aaron leaned over, snaking an arm over John’s shoulder, cornering him into the couch.

“Hah!” John snorted at his attempts at seduction. The noise startled Aaron into losing his balance, poor after a whole day of not moving. He fell against John’s chest with a yelp. “Darling, you are adorable.” Aaron felt a sloppy wet kiss against the crown of his head.

“I’d rather be sexy,” Aaron grumbled.

John laughed, airy breaths tickling the wet spot on his head. “You are, when you haven’t been hunched over a laptop since dawn. And no, it’s not that kind of distraction.”

Aaron whined, cuddling into the body underneath him and nuzzling into his chest. “Why not?”

“I’ve got something better than sex. Look!” John tapped Aaron’s ear with his phone. Aaron obliged, looking up and into a picture.

“Friendship bracelets?” Aaron raised his brows, baffled. “Do we even have the coloured string for it?”

“No, but going to the dollar store three blocks away will get us both some fresh air, and I’ve heard they’re very good for distracting people from negative thought.”

Aaron hummed. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like making friendship bracelets, and the whole idea sounded dumb. But John wanted to try it, and he only wanted to help, and he was looking at Aaron with that soft, playful grin on his face.

Aaron sighed. “I’ll get my shoes on.”


The air outside was brisk; the walk to and from the store actually pleasant. A light flush rose in John’s freckled cheeks from the cold. Aaron couldn’t stop himself from leaning his face in, either to nose or lightly kiss the cool, reddened skin.

“Oh my god, how are you so damn clingy!” John pushed Aaron off, putting on a face of mock exasperation quickly ruined by barely-held back laughter.

Aaron snorted, holding no such restraint. “Only when I’m work-exhausted. Don’t pretend you aren’t cuddly after a long overtime shift- I was perfectly non-touchy before you, you know.”

John sighed, unlocking the apartment door and pulling a shoe off with his free hand. “Fuck that, you’ve craved physical contact from the beginning. I just taught you not to be shy about it.”

Aaron sighed, toeing his shoes off as well. “Still your fault.” He peered over at the plastic bag John was already dumping over the coffee table. “We can’t possibly need that many thread colours.”

John’s eyes widened, as if serious. “You can never have too many colours in a friendship bracelet. Have you never been to summer camp?”

Aaron padded over with a wry smile. “No, actually. Never made any friendship bracelets either, before you ask.” A genuine note of surprise quickly overtook John’s previous teasing.

Suddenly, Aaron’s arms were full of Husband. “This is awful. How have you never made a friendship bracelet? My childhood sucked and I still got to.” Arms tightened across Aaron’s back. Aaron patted his back in return, touched despite the dramatics.

“It just never came up. I’m not saying I never had friends as a kid, you know, we just never went to camp or made bracelets. I had to work in the summer, usually.”

“Ugh,” John made an automatic, disgusted sound. Aaron could relate, when it came to his childhood.

“Though, you know,” Aaron said, quietly because John’s ear was so close already. “You can show me how.”

John  nodded. “I’d love to.” He punctuated his words with a quick kiss on the lips. No matter how long they were together, Aaron would never get used to how nice casual affections were. Then, he shot Aaron a mischievous little smile and ducked down a bit, bending his knees. With a sharp heave, John lifted Aaron, waddled over to the table with Aaron only a scant few inches above the ground, and dropped him down on the couch.

Aaron blinked, dazed into silence at his husband’s casual show of strength- despite not being much taller than Aaron himself. “You just wait there sugar, and I’ll get some fresh decaf tea.” Aaron would never get used to that, either.

In the end, the bracelet itself was simple. John demonstrated for a few minutes, strands of colourful string taped to the table on one end for leverage, and twisted over each other. It was a very repeatable pattern.

“Your colours are boring, sugar.” John said, raising an eyebrow.

Aaron frowned at his Red and Brown. “I like them, what’s wrong with them?”

“You need more! Come on, where’s your pink? Your orange? Your teal?” John gestured dramatically at the veritable pile of colours. “You need four minimum.” 

It would, perhaps, be a shame to waste such variety. Aaron huffed a short laugh, and reached for the White and Black. John sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

John’s bracelet, of course, had every colour he could feasibly use. “One of us has to be the reasonable one.”

“Oh, just keep braiding. We’ll see whose it better.” And so Aaron did.

When Aaron stopped braiding, it was only to John’s outright laugh. “Sugar, I think you’re done.”

Aaron took another look at the braided string. It’s pattern was perfect, but it was perhaps twice as long as it needed to be. Aaron tried to wonder how he had lost track of time yet again, but all he found was a yawn. He blinked slowly- was he actually sleepy?

“So, can I assume it worked?” John teased, smirking as Aaron rubbed his eyes.

“Oh shush,” Aaron objected, if only because of how damn smug John looked. But he wasn’t wrong. Aaron also couldn’t remember when the thread of case thoughts had been replaced by thoughts of actual thread. “Just show me how to tie them off.”

John obliged, but didn’t lose the self satisfied smirk. Aaron let him have it, following the directions closely.

“And now, the most important part of friendship bracelets.” John raised his voice, as if making an important announcement. Aaron humoured it, straightening his back to attention. “Give me your hand.”

Confused, Aaron did so. He watched as John took his bracelet and carefully knotted it around Aaron’s wrist. Right. He’d forgotten that these things were generally exchanged. Slowly, Aaron took John’s arm and repeated the process in turn.

“It is boring, after all.” John turned his wrist in front of his face, considering. “But it wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t at least mildly tame. Thanks, sugar.” He shot a toothy smile.

Aaron looked at his. It was exactly the mess Aaron had expected, far too many threads making the bracelet thick and bulky and an absolute eyesore of colours. “I love it,” Aaron whispered, completely sincere. “I’m also going to fall asleep. Let’s go to bed.”

John whooped, pulling Aaron into a deep kiss. “Then let’s go to bed.” He bounced to his feet.

Aaron followed, sleepy and more than a little gone. He was wearing this bracelet forever.

Looking Up

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 1160

Warnings: Angsty, swearing

A/N: Requested by @brooke-taylor0323 for my 300 followers AU Celebration! :D In doing this I’ve figured out that meet messy AUs are my fave. Prompt was:  i’ve had a really awful day so i started kicking a car out of frustration and it turned out to be your car i’m so sorry.”  Hope you enjoy!!

The air was too thick in the office, choking you as you swallowed back tears. The once gentle hum of the air conditioner sounded like a wordless scream falling on the deaf ears of your supervisor as he sat across the desk from you, looking awkwardly at his hands.

“Fired,” you whispered again. You thought repeating the word would make it sound less foreign, but it felt just as strange on your tongue.

“Not fired,” he said, voice oozing the faux happiness you’d only experienced directed at customers, “Let go.” You were still trying to process what he said when he was ushering you back to your office, which had already been packed up. Four years of college, five years of work, and one fading dream all stuffed into two cardboard boxes propped on top of your now empty desk.

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