this pink or something looks terrible

@whoacanada posted this, and I’ve seen it a few times now, and finally caught a bit of time so this happened. also tagging @especially-shitty @audiaphilios @pale-silver-comb and @rhysiana who I’ve either seen reblog this, or think will enjoy it. Maybe a birthday present for @iboatedhere too.


There’s a figure skating exhibition in Montréal which Bob is guest announcing at, so the whole Zimmermann fam goes to watch.

Jack is still in his in between phase of adolescence, not quite grown into his limbs, face still rounded with the last bits of stubborn childhood fat. His whole body still a little too large, and his confidence bowed under the extra weight and his blooming anxiety about his future, his sexuality, and life as the child of two incredibly successful, beautiful people.

But underneath that, is a clever, witty, ridiculous flirty man waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

Enter one Eric R. Bittle. Just over five and a half feet of lean muscle and able to move it all with a speed and grace that leaves Jack breathless. Watching Eric skate, watching him bring the story of his music to life in sweeping arcs and gravity defying jumps and spins, is a revelation. Jack loses himself in the sparkling whirlwind of movement and glowing blond hair that is Eric Bittle.

When his routine ends, in a glorious final spin that leaves Eric with outstretched arms and his head thrown back, a triumphant smile on his face, Jack is mesmerized by the line of Eric’s neck and the way he can see the heavy breaths Eric is taking. Jack can feel his heart beating in time with the rise and fall of Eric’s chest. When Eric looks up, he looks radiant, and he looks right at Jack. The full impact of his smile hits Jack right in the gut.

He must make a sound, because Alicia looks at him with a knowing gleam in her eyes and asks “Ça'va, cher?” Jack can only nod, eyes glued to Eric’s figure as he makes his way off the ice. He misses Alicia’s grin, but takes comfort in the arm she wraps around his shoulder, difficult with the way he’s almost taller than her now, even at 16, but still nice.

He’s not entirely sure how, but he ends up in the hallway outside the locker room with his parents. Bob is talking with the skaters as they come out, Jack mostly a silent presence, making awkward attempts at conversation when addressed and getting slightly irritated at the way everyone looks at him like he’s adorable despite them mostly being not much older than him. (He’d checked Eric’s age at least, and was incredibly pleased that he was the same age.)

Then, Eric is just. There. In front of him. Smiling that same sunshiny smile that is even more spectacular up close. From this close, Jack can see the warm honey and bourbon flecks in Eric’s big brown eyes, and how they radiate kindness. He feels like he’s taking up too much space, feels all the clumsiness in his limbs that only seems to disappear when he’s playing hockey.

When Eric speaks, his accent catches Jack off guard, but in a good way. It makes him feel warm and soft, and he hopes he isn’t blushing.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Zimmermann, it is such an honor to meet you! I’ve followed both of your careers, and y'all are such an inspiration!” Eric’s exuberance makes Jack smile, he feels it stretch across his face and can’t even be embarrassed about it because when Eric looks at him Jack sees it reflected back at him.

“Oh. Hello! You’re Jack, right? The next Zimmermann to watch out for?” He says it with sincerity, and a hint of a chirp, and Jack doesn’t feel any of the pressure he usually does when people talk about his legacy.

He takes just a second too long to reply, and his dad nudges his arm a little to get his attention. He catches a smirk on Bob’s face in his peripheral vision, and a quick wordless exchange between his parents, and has a sudden flash of his dad telling him about how he wooed his mom by speaking to her in French at any given opportunity.

So when Jack responds, a second or two past what’s strictly socially acceptable but not so long it’s awkward, he can only say “Bonjour, Eric,” as he presents his hand, almost sighing when Eric slips his own surprisingly soft hand into Jack’s, shaking it with a firm grip and a smile still on his face. “Vous étiez incroyable.”

He’s vaguely aware that he should be mortified, but Eric’s cheeks turn a delightful pink and it makes something in Jack want to rise to the challenge of keeping the color there.

“Oh my,” Eric laughs, “You can call me Bitty, Jack. Though I must admit my French is terrible, merci beaucoup.” His accent is quite awful, really, but when Jack notices their hands are still together, that they’re just holding hands now, he can only grin wider.

“De rien, Bitty.” Bitty looks down slightly, notices their hands and his eyes widen. He looks up at Jack from under his impressively thick lashes with a look of wonder on his face.

Bitty mutters what sounds like “Oh, lord,” and Jack chuckles under his breath.

Jack couldn’t agree more. So he squeezes Bitty’s hand and says just quietly enough that Bitty has to lean in a little “D’accord.”

Steven Bomb 5: What is grief?

The differences in how grief is portrayed between Yellow and Blue Diamond in the new Steven Bomb is really interesting to me. They’re both such uniquely different, yet so familiar expressions of grief (albeit exaggarated for the purposes of the show).   

We quickly see that Blue DIamond is the one who is grieving the most conventionally (i guess), weeping, visiting Pink Diamond’s “grave”, or at least the place where she was killed. 

“Oh, Pink… I’m sorry,  I’m so sorry, I should have done more… Yellow says it’ll all be over soon, i wonder what you would think…”

It’s a very typical “having lost a family member” kind of grief. We see BD looking tired, grief stricken, hunched over and wheeping. We see her wishing above all to perserve their memory; perserving her creations by emloying the Quartz soldiers (even perserving a room of bubbled Rose Quartz-gems), . Collecting the things PD loved by bringing new human(s) to the zoo. 

Meanwhile, Yellow Diamond’s type of grief is recognizable as well. I’ve seen her catching a lot of flack for “not allowing BD to have feelings” - a too narrow view of her character in my opinion. (IMO, one of the best things this steven bomb did was taking the diamonds from scary bad guy “gods” to something much more human).

“Let’s make a plan of attack, start looking forward and stop looking back”

YD exhibits the type of grief where you just want to keep moving, keep busy in order not to look back. The song even alludes to this; “yes, of course we still love her, and we’re always thinking of her, but now there’s nothing we can do, so tell me what’s the use in feeling blue?”

Her grief materialises mainly in the wish to exact vengance upon the gems who caused PDs death, as well as the entire subgroup of quartz that she belonged to. If not for BD’s wish to perserve everything that belonged to PD (because ”they were hers”), she would have eradicated the entire cut of Rose Quartz in their possession. 

We even see it in the rehtoric (can i call it rethoric?)  she uses on BD, pushing her to see a picture bigger than her own grief, 

”Where’s their diamond when they need her, Blue? You’ve got to be a leader, Blue!”

It’s even shown in their composure; BD hunched over, head bowed, weeping, YD straight-backed, head rarely bowed (until that one, fantastic moment from the song where we see her composure break just a little). 

Steven Universe shows us something that is important to remember. Grief doesn’t always look like bowed heads and tears and laying flowers on graves. Sometimes it looks like squared shoulders and stubbornly not looking back because what lies behind you is too painful.

Steven Universe is great because it shows depth to even the most terrible of villains, and I just fucking love this show man. 

The light that disappeared

Request:  Hi :) I’d like to request a Jughead x reader. But it’s a bit sad. Like he tells someone about the reader, that she was great and he loves her and stuff. And when the person he’s talking to asks where the reader is, he tells them, that she disappeared a few years ago, but no one really bothered looking for her( for some reason, idk😅) And maybe they could all start to search for her? Thanks already 🤗

A/N: I didn’t even proof read this because I got so emotional writing this. It’s probably not as intense as it felt when I was writing it but bloody hell I feel drained. If you want to get the full I-might-cry-at-any-moment experience I would highly suggest listening to the song Highspeeds by Elliot Moss. I really hope I did this request justice, any feedback would be much appreciated 💓💫 - Axoxo

Originally posted by toqaahmed

Tags: @writers-coffee

Warnings: a very sad Jughead.

Jughead sat, slouched in his chair as he focused intently on trying to quell the tears that were brimming in his icy eyes. Archie, Veronica and Betty were all discussing the most efficient way to get Jughead a girlfriend as Kevin feverishly nodded in agreement.

“You should smile more Jughead, nobody wants to date an angsty emo y’know.”

“Veronica’s right Juggie and you need to get off your laptop more, it makes you look unapproachable!”

“Betty’s right Jug and maybe try and lighten up with the humor, girls don’t like people who joke about death.”

“Yes! You could totally slay if you just put the effort in, after all there’s someone out there for everyone,” Kevin added with terrifying enthusiasm.

Originally posted by riverrdxle

He couldn’t bear it anymore, all of them talking about him as if he were pining for a romantic companion. He didn’t need anyone, he needed her. He slammed his fist down on the table in front of him, silencing his friends but going unnoticed by the rest of his schoolmates that were eating lunch in the courtyard around him. A singular tear escaped from the reddened rim of his eyes and ran down over the purple circles – accumulated after many late nights staring intently at the bright, white illuminated screen of his laptop – beneath and onto his pasty, slightly sunken cheeks. That was what shocked his friends the most. Not his sudden outburst but his sudden revelation of raw emotion. They didn’t dare to move, just awaited an explanation with wide eyes and slackened jaws.

“I don’t need anyone so please just stop. I don’t need to change and I don’t need to impress any girls because somehow I impressed her and she’s all that I want. I don’t know how I did it but I did, I managed to peak the interest of a girl who’s smile made the rays of the sun seem dim and unfulfilling. Then somehow that innocent curiosity turned into something more, something that terrified me so much that I lay in bed at night in my dad’s trailer wondering how I’d let myself fall so hard and cursing myself, knowing how fractured I would be when I hit the ground. Then one night in Pop’s she sat across from me and with tears in her eyes, brows furrowed with sincerity and told me that she wished I could love myself as much as she loved me. She told me that she saw a shooting star the previous night and she had wished upon it but she hadn’t done so in vain, she had wished that I saw myself as she saw me; emotionally strong but with the gentlest touch, harsh but beautifully honest and imperfect but perfect to her. For the first time in my life I saw myself in a different light because she told me to and I clung onto her every word as if I was hanging from the edge of a precipice and they were my lifeline. Then she leant over and placed a kiss on my lips, except it wasn’t just a kiss, it was my salvation. With my lips pressed against hers I felt safe for the first time in my life and at that very moment I welcomed the feeling of falling because I was falling in love with a who’s love was vaster than all of the oceans and who’s kindness melted even the iciest of hearts…” Jughead’s voice trailed off as the growing lump in his throat prevented any more words from escaping.

“Well then where is she?” Veronica asked with raised eyebrows, lacking tact or the ability to mask her apparent confusion and doubt.

“She disappeared,” Jughead began, hoarse voice eliciting a small gasp from each of his companions. “She disappeared and nobody cared but me. They said she’d run away, that it was a common occurrence with girls her age. They said she’d probably found herself an older man, a forbidden relationship and run off with him to indulge in some naïve teenage fantasy but I knew better. I knew she’d never do that; her selflessness wouldn’t allow it. She would have never left knowing the pain it would have caused the people around her…the people closest to her…me. Something happened to her, something terrible and yet everyone just accepted the simple explanation and moved on. I won’t move on. I can’t move on until I know what really happened to her and it’s exhausting.”

Jughead looked up at his friends; Betty was sobbing violently into the sleeves of her pink sweater, Veronica had teary black streaks running down her face and Kevin was dabbing lightly at his eyes with a perfectly folded tissue. Archie placed a calloused hand on his best friends’ slender shoulder and his brown orbs – glistening with unshed tears – met grey ones.

“We’ll find her Jughead, all of us,” He began, auburn brows furrowed with sincerity and concern. “We’re gonna help you find out what happened to her no matter what, okay?”

“She was my everything Arch and nobody cared. Everybody ignored her like she was nothing but when Jason Blossom died the entire town rallied together even though he was an awful person. Nobody even remembers her name…” Jughead spoke in a strangled whisper, tears now flooding down his ghostly face.

“What was her name Jug?” Archie asked gently.

“(Y/N), her name was (Y/N).”

Cielizzy headcanons

1) Ciel has a tendency to spoil Lizzy with lavish gifts, such as exquisite jewelry, the latest Parisian fashions, and sweets from Belgium and Switzerland. He does this out of guilt since he and Lizzy rarely spend any time together. As a result, Sebastian now has a secondary job as a purveyor of women’s fashion. Packages show up at the Midford estate so often that half of them are still unopened.

2) Lizzy and Ciel sometimes spend their afternoons reading together. In the beginning, they sat next to each other on the library sofa until one day Lizzy decided to read The Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire. This sparked a spirited debate between them on the abstract concepts of excess, decadence, and lust that eventually resulted in their first kiss—one that left Ciel stunned and Lizzy very, very embarrassed. 

3) Once, after returning from a mission for the queen, Ciel fell ill with pneumonia. Lizzy declared herself immune and sat by his bedside, putting cool washcloths on his forehead, making sure he drank enough water, and reading Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s epic poem Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie out loud to him. One of Ciel’s favorite lines from the poem is this: “Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,/ Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.” To him, it represents a fleeting moment of tranquility, hope, and possibility. 

4) Ciel tolerates Lizzy’s hugs because he likes her strawberry-daisy fragrance.  

5) Lizzy remembers the birthdays of all the Phantomhive servants and always gives them a little present to commemorate the day. If she can’t stop by the manor, she sends them a postcard wishing them the very best followed by a cute little gift she hand wrapped herself. —> Since Sebastian doesn’t have a birthday, Lizzy celebrates his “birthday” on January 20th—the feast of Saint Sebastian, a martyr who was killed for his Christian beliefs by the emperor Diocletian.

6) Ciel and Lizzy like to play croquet together during the summer months. It’s one of the few physical activities that Ciel can play (and win) without Sebastian’s help.

7) While playing cards, Ciel’s respect for Lizzy increased exponentially after her slight of hand beat him in Schnapsen (a German point-trick game more commonly known as 66). Now, every Tuesday night, Lizzy comes over to Phantomhive Manor and they play cards until 11 (an indecently late hour, my goodness! So Ciel makes sure Sebastian escorts her back home safely). Sometimes they’ll invite Soma, Sieglinde, Joanne, and Cheslock but mainly, it’s just the two of them. 

8) Lizzy and Ciel chose to learn Russian together because it’s a language neither of them knew; it was also an opportunity for the two of them to spend more time with each other. Ciel corrects Lizzy’s grammar and phrasing while Lizzy helps Ciel with his pronunciation. Both of them read books to help practice their Russian—Ciel began by reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky (he took a particularly liking to Crime and Punishment) while Lizzy indulged in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. —> After they got married, Lizzy and Ciel frequently spoke to each other in Russian, sometimes adding in a dash of French or Latin. As a result, Phantomhive Manor became quite the multicultural arena (and a place of great confusion for all the servants—except Sebastian).

9) Even though Ciel never became fond of dancing, he made an effort to escort Lizzy to more balls and parties after he learned that other noblemen had been flirting with her. Several of those hapless gentleman would wind up with serious injuries when leaving said party—such as one of them tripping over a misplaced bullet and tumbling down the stairs, breaking his arm, bruising his ribs, and suffering a concussion. Odd.

10) Sebastian wound up coordinating their wedding and was nicknamed “bridezilla” by everyone involved. Exhibit A:

“You call this Chantilly lace? This looks like a scrap of fabric with holes in it!”

“I knew humans were incapable of a great deal but never once have I ever encountered someone so constantly inept. I wanted gardenias with a hint of pink. A hint. Something that conjures up the image of a lady’s first blush. But this, this bouquet would be a disgrace even in hell!”

*Looks at violinists* “I’ve never been faced with a dilemma so difficult. You have all been hailed as the best violinists in Western Europe and yet here I stand, being forced to choose the least terrible amongst you inadequate, tone-deaf monarchs of the mediocre. In fact, leave. Just leave. I’ll play the bridal march myself.”

“Where is the wedding cake? Where is the—of all damnation, THAT’S the wedding cake? It looks like a sofa Baldroy set on fire.”

*Inspecting the flower girl* “No, no—her walk is pitiful and her gap-toothed smile ruins the atmosphere.”

“A church? You expect my young master to get married in a church? Well this is just preposterous—how am I, the wedding coordinator, supposed to supervise the event if he’s getting married in a church? Why wasn’t I informed of his radical venue choice? Was it my intern? Did my intern forget to inform me? A church?

Pink Tea

Summary: Levi actually doesn`t like black tea very much. [Canonverse}

AO3 Version: Pink Tea

It was a known fact that Captain Levi enjoyed tea, some even thought his entire diet consisted of it. Because he liked tea, everyone who liked the Captain made it for him, in order to impress him and gain his praises, but they never did, it was always `thanks` in that flat tone of his that always insinuated `it`s not very good, try again`. Little did they know it wasn`t because they`d steeped it too long or used the wrong blend, or even the wrong tea cup, but because they all assumed Levi liked his tea black and bitter.

Levi loathed straight black tea, despite popular belief, and whenever someone made him a cup he`d make sure add about a hundred spoonfuls of sugar to it. It`s why no one ever saw him preparing his own tea, or drinking it after they`d served it to him, what would they think if they saw their war hardened Captain pouring all that sugar into his tea because he couldn`t have it black?

Drinking black tea in a plain white mug was manlier than sweet tea with lots of cream in his favorite baby blue tea cup, and he had an image to uphold. It was like if he asked for strawberry milk instead of a beer, like choosing a unicorn over a horse, you just didn`t do it. So Levi kept his little sweet tooth secret, never would anyone see him pouring half the bag of sugar into his tea, or the fact that the tea in the black tea tin was actually his favorite rose blend.

He`d sit up in his office, choose one of his favorite tea sets and drink his feminine choice in drink in peace, it`s where he thought he was completely safe from prying eyes and mocking gazes. He liked having his fluffy quilt of cotton and floral fabric, an old one he`d found, but was able to mend himself, and a good book, particularly romance novels where one couldn`t be with the other due to their age difference but somehow they would love one another anyway and live happily ever after.

No one ever dared disturb him during this time, everyone around knew they were his designated relaxation hours. Everyone who`d been with him for long enough knew that, everyone except Eren. Eren who looked up to him the most, Eren who would lose all respect for him if he knew how soft his Captain really was, Eren who never fucking knocked before coming in.

“Captain! I was looking all over for… you.” Eren shouted coming in, only to pause at the scene before him. Captain Levi curled up in his way too big desk chair bundled up in a rose patterned blanket that seemed to swallow him whole, a book with a romantic title, “To Love Him Is Wrong, But I Cannot Bring Myself To Be Right”, and was that two guys on the cover? But most of all he had a well made, pearly pink, china tea set with cherry blossoms and rosy branches painted all over it and a tea cup full of creamy looking peach colored tea, definitely not the dark black he usually drank.

“Captain what are you…?”

Levi looked like a cross between furious, embarrassed and ready to cry.

“You`re so…”

Here it comes, he`s going to cut into his ass and never respect him again. Levi would have to beat him harder than he had at the tribunal to get him to take him seriously ever again.



“Wow, seriously sir, you`re just adorable if you don`t mind me saying so!” Eren squealed, holding his own face in his hands. Levi blinked, technically, this was what he`d been dreading, to be seen in a soft, weak light, but… it didn`t feel so bad with Eren doing it.

“Is that so?” Levi had to be sure, Eren nodded eagerly at the question.

“Mh! It`s awesome you can be cute like this but still kick ass!” The boy praised. Levi hadn`t ever thought of it that way, but still…

“Ahem, thank you Eren. But you can`t say anything about this okay?” Levi said, Eren looked confused for a moment, like he wanted to ask questions, but then understanding filled his green orbs instead.

It looked like Eren was going to give him some lecture about pride or something so Levi shut him up quick, “It`s our special secret.” He whispered, immediately Eren`s face lit up like a Christmas tree, not just anyone got to know about the Captain`s special secrets so he must have really trusted Eren in particular! Aa, he wanted to brag about it but, if Levi trusted him to keep it a secret then he wouldn`t say a word.

“Yes sir! My lips are sealed!” Eren promised,

Levi had never been more relieved it was Eren who`d barged into his office.

Once Eren had found out about his little secret the boy had pestered him until he`d given him the recipe for his ideal tea, five spoons of sugar, three splashes of cream and use the rose blend on the top shelf of the pantry, and the shifter took it as his duty to prepare Levi`s tea from then on, because he knew Captain`s secret now so he could prepare what he liked, and Levi let him. Only because somehow the brat`s tea was a hundred times better than his own. When he made it, it was just sweet enough, always steeped to perfection, always had a creamy texture and was never gritty, sometimes he`d even put actual rose petals in for extra flavor.

No longer did Levi have to tiptoe about just to get a cup of tea, because Eren always seemed to know when he was craving it and would be at his door with a steaming pot ready for him. But it became more than tea too, he brought him warm sweaters, Captain always looks so cold in that blanket, new books, I didn`t know what you liked to read but this one has guys on the cover too, and kept him company.

Levi didn`t know how close they were becoming, how he would let Eren share his quilt because it was big enough for both of them, let Eren blush himself silly trying to read his romance books aloud, let the cadet lay his head on his lap when he got sleepy. And when he finally did notice, he didn`t mind as much as he should, at all really. He could admit it, if only to himself, he really liked Eren. In the kind of way his novels described, his heart would beat fast, his hands would sweat - disgusting - and he would feel light whenever he was near. Geez he really was turning into a girl wasn`t he?

Still, he should have guessed such bliss couldn`t last.

It had been another day, pretty slow in terms of training and such since there wasn`t anything urgent to learn so Eren had come to his office earlier than normal, baring his usual gifts of a large blanket and tea and cookies to share. Levi had looked up from his blasted paperwork to find the boy smiling down at him and he allowed himself a small one in return. He pushed his work aside, Eyebrows would get it when he finished dammit, and opened his arms to invite Eren over into the large chair like always. Eren had happily squeezed in next to him, draping the big blanket over their heads and shoulders and poured the two some of his delicious tea.

Right as they were settling in, Eren laying his head on Levi`s to read over his shoulder, they`d switched out romance novels for action/adventures, the door was flung open in a flurry of `I`m sorry for intruding` and bad undercuts. Oluo stood in the doorway bowing until he was almost in half and holding out more paperwork, seriously, more Erwin? Do your own damn paperwork! Straight out in front of him. Instead of jumping up Eren had pulled him closer protectively, not knowing who had been coming in at first and Levi sat completely still.

“F-forgive me sir! You weren`t answering your door so I…” Oluo had started up with his rambling apology and raised his head to do so properly, but he was met with the sight of Captain Levi looking terribly small wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket with… with the newbie! And what was with that tea? It was pink! Just what exactly was he seeing here!?

“What is all of this?” Oluo yelled, of course he bit his tongue in the process.

Eren`s eyes shot over to look at Levi who was still frozen with shock and looked ready to cry again, he had to do something to keep the Captain`s secret, as painful as this would be for him, he couldn`t let his Captain take this, it was time for him to repay all his kindness these past days.

“Ahem, this is all me.” Eren said seriously, his voice was really out of place in the fluffy scene. Levi shot him a look of disbelief but he didn`t stop, let me do this for you sir, he thought. “I… I like all this kind of stuff, and I dragged Captain into with me, and because he was kind he stayed, even though he doesn`t like this kind of thing at all!”

Oluo sneered at him, “Hah, should have known you were a weirdo, what are you some kind of girl? Hah! You`re lucky the Captain`s such a good man, I wouldn`t have let a rookie like you get away with it though, I`d-”

As Oluo continued to lecture Eren, Levi couldn`t tear his eyes away from him. This boy, with so little already, had taken such a hard blow to his pride, saved Levi from humiliation, without even being asked to. He was sitting through the harsh words hewas supposed to be getting, he was the one who liked all this, in fact, Eren was the one who liked his tea black without anything else between them. Eren had taken the bullet for him like it was nothing, he would have never imagined he cared that much.

“Enough Oluo.” Levi ordered, he couldn`t let this continue.

“But sir! He`s the one who dragged you into-”

“Hoh? Did I stutter? That was an order soldier.” He told the man darkly, and with a not manly at all squeak he scurried out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him so Levi wouldn`t give chase.

After he`d left Eren let out a nervous laugh, “Haha, that was close wasn`t it sir?”

“Why did you do it Eren?” Levi cut in, why would anyone, no matter how close, take that kind of pain for another?

Eren`s eyes darted around uneasily as he let out another laugh.

“W-well I promised to keep your secret didn`t I? And I-”

“Eren. Don`t lie, what`s the real reason? Even if you were keeping my secret you didn`t have to take the blame.”

Eren sighed.

“I-I guess there`s no hiding it then huh?” … “I-I like you Captain.” The boy admitted, ah, Levi`s heart was skipping every other beat again.

“And because I like you, I had to protect you sir. Please forgive me for having these weird feelings for you!” Eren pleaded, he pulled the blanket they`d been sharing over his head further to hide himself completely from view.

Eren liked him. Eren liked him. He could feel not only a burning blush covering his cheeks, but a big - big for him that was - smile spreading on his face as he let out a breathy laugh, there was nothing really funny about it, but it was more of a relief kind of laugh. If Eren was weird, Levi supposed he was too right?

He wiggled his way under the blanket with Eren, even as he tried to shift away and hide more, and pulled him into a soft kiss that stopped his struggling instantly. Levi wasn`t very experienced, he just sort of, held their lips together, but Eren hummed contently and it felt good, really good, even if they weren`t doing anything. When he could bring himself to pull back a minute or so later he whispered to the boy,

“I like you too, Eren.”

Eren gaped when his lip fell away from his, his eyes growing impossibly larger - because they were already so big - at his superior`s confession. Levi was a bit nervous, maybe he had read his words wrong and Eren didn`t like him that way. Maybe Levi had made a comeplete fool of himself and really made Eren lose respect for him that no beating would restore.

But then Eren`s dropped jaw formed a smile, a happy, joyful smile, like Levi had promised him the world in just one confession.

The grin on Eren`s face made his own small smile grow just that much more as the kid pulled him into a bear hug and laughed like he`d heard the funniest thing in the world. His laughter was deep and contagious and Levi started laughing too, his lighter, quieter giggles mixing with Eren`s well.

What were they even doing? Giggling like two teenagers - technically one of them was - underneath a blanket like it was their own little world. But Levi didn`t care, for once in a long, long time, he was just happy. The two eventually calmed down enough to form words, Eren`s first ones were thanking him for accepting his feelings. Speaking of thanks, now that they were technically together he could…

“Eren, I want to thank you for saving me before.” Levi said lowly, shifting himself closer to Eren`s lap. Eren looked at him strangely, reminding him he`d already said that. Sigh, this brat had no idea how to take hints did he? Figures he would fall for someone like that.

“No, I want to… repay your kindness Eren.” Levi purred, taking the boy`s face in his hands as it finally clicked for him, you could practically hear it.


“Mmhm, would you like that Eren?”

Eren nodded.

Taking that as the approval he needed, Levi pulled the blanket away from their heads and let it fall to the floor. Eren laid back on the plushy chair when Levi`s hands pushed him against it, using his shoulders as leverage to crawl over him and straddle his waist.

They looked at each other for a moment, breath quickening at what was to come, Eren made the first move with a noisy `gulp` and pulled Levi close by the small of his back with one hand and tilted his head forwards with the other, closing the gap between them second time. Eren was more forceful than Levi had been as he worked his lips against Levi own, loving the sound of his stuttering gasp when he dared dart his tongue out to slide across his plump bottom lip to coax them to part.

He let his hands wander down this body he`d admired for so long, caution slowly slipping from his mind, running along Levi`s back, his arms, his hips, before settling on his ass to give it a timid squeeze, causing Levi to let out a scandalized squeak, making the mistake of opening his mouth to let Eren enter it easily. Levi didn`t seem to understand at first, why his mouth was suddenly so hot, but he still moaned at the feeling of Eren tongue inside his mouth, against his own, rubbing against it and exploring every part it could reach.

Eren pulled back, Levi`s lips chasing after his as he did so, to tug at the Captain`s shirt, his implications clear. Levi blushed harder but lifted his arms so Eren could pull the cloth away. Eren`s hands instantly stroked his sides and grabbed at his hips, muttering to himself `so smooth` and `pretty, you`re very pretty sir` as he was captivated by the newly exposed skin. Levi felt flatter but, also cheated. Eren was still fully clothed…

“N-now you.” He insisted, trying to sound firm. Eren held back a smile, he was being shy again. Either way Eren obeyed, taking his shirt from the bottom hem and slipping it over his head confidently, though he did feel a bit exposed now since Levi was no longer the only one like this and was staring at him so intensely. Silver eyes roamed his chest and abs shamelessly, but his hands were a different story, hiding themselves deeper into his brown locks, too frightened to venture down.

“Hey, it`s okay, go ahead.” Eren encouraged, wanting Levi to feel free to touch him as he pleased, and to feel those hands on his body. Levi nodded a bit, mostly to himself and placed both hands on his chest, biting his lip in concentration. He stayed in that position, unsure of what to do next, Eren couldn`t help himself as he reached out to cup his face with his hands.

“You`re so cute Captain, please do as you wish with me.” He cooed, Levi looked up at him through his black lashes, flushing at the compliment, before letting his own hands wander as Eren`s had been, carving out all the harsh edges and dips in his muscles, getting startled whenever Eren couldn`t hold back a shudder. Levi let his fingers trail back up over Eren`s body, tickling the back of his neck and… oh.

“Ah! Levi!” Eren gasped, Levi forced himself not to jump right off his lap in fright, he was nervous after all, but that passed all too quickly when Levi realized he was the one to make such a sound spill from Eren`s mouth so forcefully, it gave him quite the boost in his confidence and he boldly brushed the spot on the back of the brunet`s neck again, earning another loud pant.

It was something like a titan wasn`t it? The weak spot at the nape, and Eren was a titan too so… it made sense didn`t it? Idly Levi thought of Hanji having an out right fit at the information, but she wouldn`t be getting it, Levi decided this would be his own secret as he kept rubbing Eren`s nape, he was the only one who was going to know exactly what Eren liked. He felt like he had some kind of special position by knowing it, and he was selfish so he wouldn`t be letting anyone else find out.

“You like it, Eren?” The raven mumbled softly to the shifter, who had gone limp against his shoulder, shuddering every other second. He could feel him nod vigorously from where his head lied. To his surprise though, Eren pulled his head, and neck, away from Levi`s grasp suddenly. He shook his head, like he was trying yo convince himself, and told him,

“S-sir, I want to be gentle with you, but if you continue to do things like that… I don`t think I`ll be able to hold back.”

Levi blinked, then a blush took over his face when he realized what the cadet was implying.

“W-who said anything about that you idiot! Don`t get so ahead of yourself.” He hissed, Eren opened his mouth to apologize then, his eyes wide at the realization of his own statement and face looking a bit disappointed but Levi stopped him before he could say anything.

“B-but since, since I`m repaying you…”

Eren immediately perked up like some puppy. Tch. That was annoying.

“Don`t be so eager.”

Now he was a kicked puppy and Levi felt bad.

“Ahem, since I`m repaying you, please… do what you wish with me.” The captain forced out, repeating Eren`s own offer from earlier, looking away from Eren`s intense gaze as he took in what he was saying. But that`s all he was doing, just looking and damn it all if Levi wasn`t embarrassed enough already.

“Well? Say something you- AH!”

The moment he was fed up with the silence was the moment Eren pounced on him, pinning him to the desk in front of them - behind him? - and staring down at Levi with an animalistic glint in his vibrant green eyes. Levi`s silver slivers widened at the sudden, but slight, pain in his back from being slammed against hard wood.


“I really tried holding back sir, but when you talk like that… Please forgive me for this.”

With that Eren dove forwards, pressing their bodies together as tightly as he could, almost crushing Levi in the process with his weight, and began to rock back and forth, rubbing their arousals together. Levi covered his mouth to muffled the girly noises that were spilling from him, his other gripping Eren`s back for dear life as the boy grinded onto him.

Eren wouldn`t slow down, going full force the moment he was upon him, panting harshly like a dog into his ear, mumbling things like `captain`s skin is so soft` and `your voice is so sweet sir, let me hear it more`. The desk protested at the constant rhythm of back and forth, back and forth, creaking it`s complaint loudly beneath them.

“Ah! Eren, Eren slow down,” Levi panted, becoming overwhelmed with the sheer amount of contact. Eren growled lowly, like it was the worst thing to pull away from Levi even for a second.

“No.” He told him.

At any other moment Levi would have been furious, but right then he couldn`t possibly think of anything other than Eren caging him against the desk as he grinded his back against the smooth wood. It felt like hours Levi lied there, just taking whatever Eren had left, he didn`t notice his own moans rising in pitch, coming at a faster frequency, didn`t feel Eren`s thrusts becoming erratic as his own hips bucked with a mind of their own.

“Mmh, mn, I-I`m- ah!” For the love of Maria he couldn`t even warn Eren he was about to-


White spots danced across Levi`s tightly shut eyelids as he reached his high, Eren still frantically rubbing against him, before finding his own relief with a long groan, then plopping down onto Levi`s heaving form in exhaustion. They lay there, panting as they calmed down. Eren lifted his head from Levi chest to smile a dopey smile up at him, and Levi couldn`t do more than ruffle his brown locks lovingly in return.

He could chew him out for ruining two perfectly good pairs of uniform pants later.

Chapter Four: Confession Time? Here’s What I Got

Lafayette x Reader

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five 

Note: Do you guys still hate me because of the last chapter? Because if you don’t you probably will now. Does the cute gif of Daveed make up for the sadness of the chapter?

Disclaimer: I don’t speak french more than the basics so all my French comes from google translate. I apologize if it’s dreadful.

Word Count: 2100

Tagged: @texasprincess3 @chuckisgod @hamiltonsquills @pearltheartist @zoemonster200 @dem-shitposts-n-stuff @hamrevolution

Originally posted by neighborhoodz

“You have to tell him” Eliza hisses at Y/N as she tapes up another box. Y/N throws her a look as Lafayette comes bouncing into the room, a grin on his face.

A week earlier Lafayette had asked Y/N to move in with him and Hercules. At first she had honestly considered declining, simply to avoid the possibility of Lafayette finding her pills before she has a chance to tell him like Eliza had, but after considering it she decided to go for it.

“Is there much left to pack in here?” Lafayette asks, crossing the room to press a kiss to your forehead before picking another box.

“Just enough for two more boxes” she tells him glaring at Eliza, praying that she doesn’t say anything to Lafayette just like she has every time Lafayette and Eliza have been in the same room over the past two weeks

“I’ll take this one down to the car” he says, picking up the box Eliza had tapped up and leaving the room again, the smile never leaving his face.

Y/N sighs, leaning back against the wall. “I know I have to tell him Liza. I know I do but I just… don’t know how. Please just don’t say anything? I’ll tell him soon when I find the right moment”

Keep reading

Remember these dudes who appeared on Star Trek from time to time? The ones that liked to argue for no reason, who started a fight with the Vulcan Ambassador Sarek? 

Do they look familiar to you? That strange wispy blond hair, that pink completion, those scary, soulless eyes, those frowning ugly lips. Is their appearance ringing some terrible bell, deep in your soul? I don’t know about you, but I happen to know someone who looks just like that.

Does this seem like a coincidence to you? Maybe it is. But when the President Elect is revealed to be an alien, don’t come crying to me. I warned you. 

Next time you see Trump yelling about something, think to yourself, is he really human? Or is he a shaved Tellarite, masquerading as an ugly white politician? 

Stay aware, America. Stay vigilant.  

playing house | 3

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

member: hoseok x reader
word count: 1304

Summary: It’s not like you’re hard pressed for cash, but there is that Spring Break trip you need to save up for, so why not grab your best friend and pretend to be a couple for some research study? What could possibly go wrong?

Part 1 Part 2 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What about team nice dynamite playing surgeon simulator on a real person

Oh jeez that gets awfully bloody awfully quickly. It’s definitely  one of their nastier games, which considering who they are and what they’ve done is really saying something.

The idea is probably born in Caleb’s office. Michael’s grumbling his way through stitches, reluctantly laughing as Gavin makes a nuisance of himself while he waits, opening draws, playing with tools, theorising about what everything does, miming out increasingly disturbing looking operations until Caleb finally banishes him back to the waiting chair under the threat of a first-hand demonstration.

Still, the idea is planted and not even a week goes by before Michael and Gavin decide to rob a hospital, pick up a few tools of their own, and play doctor. They get everything from scrubs and gloves to speciality instruments and various medications, alongside a few of their own concoctions and no small number of personal knives. Their ‘surgery’ is an abandoned warehouse; not even one of Geoff’s, just somewhere private where no one will notice them making a mess. And boy do they make a mess.

Their first involuntary patient is a very bad man indeed, cruel and nasty and just generally lacking in heart. So they take his out. Dig around for a bit, surprised by the effort it takes to get through the ribcage, wondering at the sheer amount of blood, the various strange bits and pieces they rummage through, organs they examine then toss to the floor to continue their quest. Astonishingly the patient does not survive, but they manage to extract the heart before it stops beating so at the end of the day they call it a successful endeavour.

For the next sorry contestant, who had the misfortune of witnessing something he shouldn’t have and running his mouth in the wrong company, there is a very delicate eye surgery, followed by a far less delicate experimentation to determine which vaguely eye-shaped objects found laying around the penthouse would make the best replacements.

There’s a dirty cop working for the wrong gang whose night ends with his brain on the floor, a noisy thorn in Geoff’s side who involuntarily donates his kidneys to science, a brief foray into dentistry leaves a crook without their teeth, an arms-dealer who got a bit too touchy loses an arm, and in a move that’s more petty than anything else, a wanna-be conman who thought he could manipulate Gavin of all people gets to accidentally teach them just how quickly a person can bleed out when they’re missing their tongue. 

With all the compassion of serial-killers, the selfish amusement of egocentric children and the in-built bravado born from the unwavering support of a best friend the only end in sight for this awful new game is the inevitable moment Team Nice Dynamite gets bored and moves on to something else.

The rest of the FAHC doesn’t know what they’re up to in their spare time but have seen enough shared looks and whispered plans to know they’re doing something, have witnessed more than enough of that particular brand of nasty delight to know it’s something devastating. Still, when casual inquiry reveals nothing more than a pair of matching grins, somewhat secretive and entirely wicked, it’s generally agreed that it’s best to just sit back and wait for the mayhem to roll in.

Which is all well and good for a while, but eventually Jeremy and Ryan are bored enough, curious enough, nosey enough to give up on patience and track them down. It’s not particularly difficult, they’re not really hiding, but what has been seen cannot be unseen and Jeremy, for one, desperately wishes he’d left Ryan to investigate on his own. Ryan stands in silence, reaction hidden behind his mask though Jeremy fancies that there’s something upsettingly amused in the way he surveys what is undoubtably a makeshift surgery, eyes sharply interested as they flick around the room, to the blood on the floor, the walls, to the body on the table, the wailing heart-monitor and an IV bag filled with something oddly glittery.

Jeremy is feeling slightly less impartial. Maybe it’s just the surprise of it all; he was expecting another firework bomb, maybe a kidnapped cop or the makings of an elaborate prank, anything other than the cold, still, Dexter-like vibe of this particular undertaking. It’s almost too much, too disturbing, even with everything the FAHC have done, everything he himself has done. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, maybe it’s no worse, not really, but in the shock of landing in what looks like a horror movie torture room Jeremy can’t help but think that this is something else, that this is terrible.  

Then Gavin tears through, squawking up a storm and holding two eyeballs up over his head like they’re watching Michael, who’s roaring with laughter and whirling something pink and fleshy around like a lasso as he gives chase, and just like that the moment is thoroughly broken. Ryan snorts, turning on his heel and heading out the way he came but Jeremy can’t quite make himself leave, can’t even stay silent, not when Michael slides through something unnamable, wiping out into a tray of instruments and going down under a bombardment of misplaces organs like the worlds goriest slapstick routine.

The sound has Gavin finally catching sight of Jeremy, eyes widening in shock before he grins, wild and disastrous as he crows out a greeting, calling for the illustrious Doctor Dooley to come in and save him from the heavy-handed fumblings of Doctor Jones, and honestly at that point there’s really little else Jeremy can do but start looking around the room for a spare pair of gloves.

Fic: As a Door Closes

Here is the latest part of my Heartlines AU story. I hope you all enjoy it.

The rest of the chapters (and my other work) can be found here 

As always I’d love to know what you think.


Originally posted by jlbwedding

She opened the door and Jamie was speechless. Claire was always beautiful, more than beautiful, but looking at her right now he simply could not formulate thoughts into speech. She wore a tight fitted black sequinned gown with a high neck and capped sleeves. A slit ran up one side revealing an expanse of creamy leg and strappy silver sandals. But her head was the biggest shock. Normally Claire favoured natural looking makeup, muted tones in browns and greys, her hair either haphazardly restrained or a riot of curls which grazed her shoulders. But today she looked entirely different, her whiskey coloured eyes looked even more tigerish with an application of flicked up eyeliner and her lips were an enticing cranberry red. Her hair, normally such a riot, fell in sleek, smooth waves down to her breasts. She looked at him shyly. “What do you think?” She gave him a little swirl revealing a low back. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly and she laughed. “Oh good, you like it!” He watched her sashay down the path towards the waiting car, swallowing audibly.

The event was a combination of wealthy donors, local businessmen and hospital staff. As it happened, because of this Jamie knew at least as many people as Claire and he was kept more than busy shaking hands, answering queries about Lallybroch and talking shop. Claire moved round the room, chatting, smiling and generally trying to encourage the great and good in attendance to cough up some money to help refurb the ailing pediatrics wing. Prior to choosing General Surgery Claire had rotated through the department and had been sorely tempted by a career in that speciality. As it was she had gone another way, but she was often called upon by the department when a general surgeon was needed and she had campaigned passionately for the wing in its bid to upgrade its facilities. Jamie watched her work the room. Her smile was simply radiant. He was struck again by his sheer fortune that such a wonderful woman was his. His pride in her and her achievements was endless and to see her here, tonight, amongst her peers, he thought his heart would burst with it. He lost sight of her for a moment and he scanned the room, his height giving his an advantage. She popped up beside him holding two glasses of champagne. “I managed to charm these out the waiter. He didn’t want to give me any as they are having terrible trouble rounding everyone up to go into dinner” Her face was flushed slightly from the champagne and it gave her a glow that made her look even more lovely. She hooked an arm through his. “I forgot to ask. What happened to the kilt I was promised?” Instead of the aforementioned kilt, Jamie was wearing a bright blue three piece suit. Single breasted with a sharp white shirt and blue tie he looked magnificent amongst the sea of black tuxedos, his red hair and towering height making him stand out even further. “Well, the last time I wore a kilt to an event like this I spent half the night bein’ asked what I wore underneath it an’ the other half fending off women tryna find out for themselves. I figured I’d save myself the bother this time” he laughed. “Are ye disappointed?”

“Well, a little bit,” she answered tilting her head to one side to look at him. “But on the other hand you look sexy as hell in that suit, so I can’t complain too much can I?” She gave him a lewd wink which made them both laugh and he drew her to him and kissed her on her forehead.

“And you, Mo Nighean Donn,” He said, “I canna begin to say how wonderful you look. Ye’re always the most beautiful woman in the room, but tonight, well, I keep having to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.” Her colour heightened a little more, but her response was cut off by the the boom of the ever jocular chief of surgery.

“Claire, Claire. I hardly recognised you without your scrubs and cap! Isn’t it fun trying to spot everyone in their civvies?”

He kissed her lightly on the cheek and she turned to introduce Jamie. He shook Jamie’s hand warmly.

“This is Dr Grant, our chief, this is Jamie, my…” she paused slightly as she cast around for the right title. They’d only know each other three weeks and whilst what they had was clearly serious, they’d not yet gotten round to defining it in any way. “…my partner” she settled for, looking at Jamie meaningfully.

“Partner,”  he thought “Aye, that’ll do for now, but one day…”

This thought was abruptly cut short, by Dr Grant turing behind him and pulling forward a couple about Jamie and Claire’s age. “This is my nephew, David.” He said smiling broadly, “He’s a property developer. And this is his fiancee, Geneva.”

Jamie felt the heat rise in his face and Claire coughed slightly as she took a too big gulp of champagne. Geneva’s chestnut hair was swept back from her face and she wore a flowing tulle gown with a slight princess skirt in a soft blush pink. She also wore a very large, if conventional, diamond which she had not been wearing the last time the three of them had come face to face. She looked ethereal and stunning. She also looked uncomfortable and embarrassed, clearly not enjoying this impromptu reunion any more than Claire and Jamie. David, a handsome man, with dark hair a soft brown eyes, also appeared somewhat discomfited by this meeting. He may or may not have been aware of the show down in Jamie’s living room, but it was obvious he knew who Jamie was. He moved slightly closer to Geneva, placing a hand around her waist. Claire recovered herself first.

“Oh how lovely. And what a beautiful ring. Have you set a date?” The corner of Geneva’s mouth lifted slightly as she answered. “Oh, not yet, but we’re hoping for next summer. We only got engaged last week, didn’t we darling?’ She turned to David. “Oh, yes, just last week” he replied. Dr Grant laughed loudly digging poor David in the side. “But how many times did ye have to ask the lass? What was it four times before she finally said yes to you?” David smiled blandly, Jamie developed an acute interest in the pattern on the carpet. Thankfully the waiting staff took that moment to get assertive and they were promptly rounded up and herded into the ballroom.

Fortunately, Dr Grant’s table was over near the front of the room, whilst Jamie and Claire, along with a host of other hospital staff were tucked away near the back.

“Keeping us hidden” said Geillis, archly, flipping red hair over her shoulder. “But still, least we’re much nearer the bar here” She waved a red nailed hand in the direction of a waiter beckoning him over. Next to her, her new boyfriend, Josh sat looking slightly bemused and very much under her spell. Jamie was thrilled to at last have a chance to meet all the friends that Claire had regaled him with stories of. Her friend Joe Abernathy, who had transferred here from Boston, the indomitable Mrs Fitz, who despite clearly having a first name, no one called anything else, including her husband a jocular highlander with a big laugh who had clearly not suffered the same concerns as Jamie as he wore a kilt in eye catching MacKenzie tartan. Timid little Mary who spoke quietly but after a few drinks it turned out had a fondness for rude jokes and a huge dirty laugh. These were the people who he knew were important to Claire. As someone with no blood ties, this was the closest she had to real family and he was acutely aware of what it meant that she had wanted him here, with her and them tonight. The night was a lot more fun than he had expected. He found that he had an easy rapport with Claire’s friends who made him welcome, and with the exception of Geillis, who Claire had warned him about, none of them felt the need to grill him too intently. They danced until Claire begged for mercy, her high heels finally getting the better of her. Moving off to the side he drew her close and kissed her deeply. “Shall we go home now, Mo Nighean Donn?” he murmured into her ear.

“Oh yes” she replied. “I might not be getting the chance to find out what a Scotsman wears under his kilt, but I’m still pretty interested in what might be going on under that suit” She tugged his earlobe gently with her teeth and he gave a shudder. “I’ll just pop to the bathroom and then we’ll leave”

He waited across the hall for Claire, fiddling with his phone. A blur of pink caught the corner of his eye as the statuesque figure of his ex wife strode purposefully into the bathroom in which Claire had just entered.

Claire had been in there for a while. So had Geneva. He’d seen David go by looking for her, but offered no information. He stared at the door willing it to open and for Claire to come out. He couldn’t hear any shouting. Or screaming. That was something he supposed. Surely if something terrible was happening he’d hear it. But still what were they both doing in there. The door opened and Geneva exited, catching Jamie’s eyes briefly. He tried to make out the expression behind them, but she was gone too quickly. Another minute later, the door opened again this time bringing Claire with it.

Jamie’s eyebrows were almost under his hairline. “And what was that about? Should I be worried? She’s no been telling you what a terrible man I am has she?”

Claire laughed at Jamie was surprised to feel his heart and stomach both unclench a little. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Let’s go home and I’ll tell you everything”

She sat facing him on the sofa in her living room. She’d kicked off her heels in the hall and her hair was starting to kink slightly.

“Well, I don’t think you need to be too concerned with Geneva from now on Jamie. We had a good chat and I think things are going to be ok on that front.”

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? We’ve been seperated for over 4 years and she turned up at my house because she’d heard I’d been kissing someone. She’s no exactly rational.”

“No really, Jamie. Just listen”

As Claire had stepped out of the cubicle she had walked straight into Geneva.  Dodging round her to wash her hands, she had become aware of the fact that Geneva was clearly there to speak with her. She waited for a beat.

“C..Claire?” Geneva began unsteadily, clearly searching for the words. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For the other day. It was, it was… unacceptable.” Claire opened her mouth to respond but Geneva raised her hand imploring to be allowed to continue. Claire nodded.

“Jamie was right. It was pride. I was so angry with him. For so long. I felt cheated by him. When we got married I wanted it to be a certain way. But it wasn’t. So I tried to change him. To make him into what I wanted him to be, rather than simply accepting that he wasn’t what I wanted any more than I was what he wanted. And he, being the honourable man he is left. He couldn’t live a lie, he couldn’t be less than his true self. And I was so angry. For almost 5 years it’s eaten away at me. He’s the only thing I’ve ever failed at. That I haven’t been able to bend to my will as it were. And so I couldn’t let go. Even after I met David, who is everything I was looking for in my marriage to Jamie and couldn’t find, I still didn’t let go. I didn’t let Jamie go. I knew, deep down that he would feel the weight of the failure of our marriage whether it was his fault or not and I used that to hurt him. Whilst I was living my life and being happy elsewhere, and Jamie was right about that, David does make me happy, I kept on punishing him. And all because I couldn’t admit failure. When my friend called me and told me she’d seen the two of you. I don’t know what came over me. It was like all the anger and bitterness of the last four years were just poured over my head. I wanted to rip my skin off with it. But I saw then , the way he looked at you. The way he never, ever looked at me. But I do have someone who looks at me like that. David has been asking me to marry him for years and I’ve always said no. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t bear for Jamie to feel like he had permission to move on. And I’m sorry. I’m so very fucking sorry.” The profanity seemed out of place coming out of the mouth of one so perfectly coiffed and softly spoken. She seemed a different person to the wild eyed, object flinging woman of only a few weeks earlier. She looked at her hands and adjusted her ring.

“Tell Jamie.” She looked Claire in the eye. “Tell him I’m sorry. For all of it. And that I wish him… I wish him joy.” Claire nodded slowly and Geneva smiled, tears in her eyes. Claire unthinkingly reached out a hand and Geneva took it squeezing her fingers slightly. She nodded stiffly and in turned and was gone in a swish of pink tulle and chanel No 5. Claire stood there for a moment, wondering if that had really happened. She took a deep breath and went back to join Jamie.

“So she really said all that?’ Jamie asked incredulous. He had known Geneva a long time and whilst he knew she did have her virtues he wasn’t sure magnanimity had ever been one of them.

“She did” Claire replied nodding. “Whether she meant it, I guess only time will tell, but she seemed genuine” She shrugged. “I’m glad we can put it behind us though. I’m glad that *you* can move on with your life now.

“Aye, aye I can” he met her eyes and held her gaze, reaching for her hand as he did so. “And I so what you to be part of that life, Claire. Next weekend, I ken ye’re off work until Wednesday, will ye come to the Highlands wi me? To Lallybroch?” Nerves were making his accent thicker.

“Jamie, I honestly cannot think of a nicer way to spend my time off.” He smiled a smile of such joy that he looked, for a moment like a small boy. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “But right now I want to find out what a scotsman wears under his suit.”

anonymous asked:

Number 11? Maybe with Touko from Natsume? Pretty please with a cherry on top!

11. You look terrible. I mean, you look beautiful as ever, but also super sick.’

Touko presses a hand to the side of her face and laughs. It’s hard to feel self-conscious when Takashi is pink-faced and stammering an apology that’s hard to make out, that sounds something like “can’t believe I said ‘terrible’”. 

“I am feeling a bit under the weather today,” she admits. “I would lay down, but I need to start preparing dinner if I want it to be ready for Shigeru when he gets home.”

Takashi blinks at her, and then his eyes stray past her face to a point behind her shoulder – the kitchen counter, where the groceries are laid out. Hardly a moment goes by before his amber eyes gleam and his shoulders square, and he says, “I’ll make dinner. Really,” he adds, before Touko can so much as open her mouth, “I used to make dinner at one of the other places I lived. I can do it. I want to.”

Her heart is simply too big to fit comfortably in her chest, Touko decides, folding her hands together firmly against the ache that sits behind her breastbone. Takashi is so stubborn and so willing, and so eager to be helpful. She smiles at him, ignoring the silly prickling at the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you, Takashi. That would be wonderful,” she manages, and watches something radiant bloom in her child’s face. 

(And an hour or so later, she’ll wake from a light nap and follow the sounds of cooking and conversation down the hall into the doorway of the kitchen. Shigeru’s briefcase and overcoat are draped over one of the kitchen chairs and her husband is standing next to Takashi at the counter, sleeves rolled up and tie thrown over his shoulder.

“This is her favorite recipe,” Shigeru is saying. “I’m not sure our attempt will taste anything close, but it’s worth a try, right?”

“Right,” Takashi says brightly. He’s flecked with egg batter and tiny pieces of diced scallions, and pushes bangs out of his eyes with the back of his wrist. “I think she’ll like it no matter what.”

Oh, I will, she thinks, unable to bring herself to interrupt the two of them, a hand pressed against the happy ache in her heart. I absolutely will.)

Break Even

A Christmassy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Countdown


Of course, it’s not enough that the Crucible stuck me and that twat in a room together.  It’s not enough that I have to deal with his abuse every single day six months out of the year.  Of course, someone out there, whoever’s controlling the fates, has gotten it in their mind that I don’t have it bad enough.

           You know what would make this even better?  Make Simon and Baz buy each other Christmas presents!  Perfect!

           I trudge along the snowy pavement, scowling at the melting slush.  I’ve been in five shops already and I can’t find anything.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  What do you get for someone you despise?

           I suppose I could pull a prank or something. That’s probably what he will do. He never fails to stoop to the lowest level when it comes to me.

           But then again, he would probably kill me if I pulled something like that.  For some reason, he’s allowed to mess with me, but I’m not allowed to mess with him. Figures.

           Exhausted, I duck into a coffee shop.  The air is warm and spiced with cinnamon.  As I make my way to the front of the line, I see the display of gift cards next to the till.

           Baz drinks coffee, doesn’t he?  Of course he does.  Everyone drinks coffee.

           So I buy my peppermint mocha, load a gift card and walk out relieved.


Of course, it’s not enough that I have to pretend I hate the boy with every word I say.  It’s not enough that I have no choice but to make his life a living hell every single day six months out of the year. Now I have to display my everlasting hatred by means of a Christmas gift exchange.

           Whoever thought this was a good idea can get fucked.

           I shove my way out of a candy store emptyhanded. Every shop is bringing me closer to the point of giving up.  What kind of villain gives the hero candy for Christmas?

           Then again, what kind of villain gives the hero anything for Christmas?

           Maybe the villain who doesn’t want to be the villain.

           I shake my head to clear it, squinting up at the sign over the next window.  Antiques it says in big loopy writing.  I sigh and push through the door.

           The smell hits me first.  It’s not a bad smell necessarily, just old and musty, kind of like breathing straight dust, and I cough.  As my eyes adjust I begin to make out the piles of knick-knacks stacked up on every surface, age-old brass and silver winking at me from every corner.  Or rather, blinking.  Like someone who’s trying to wink but never quite got the hang of it.

           I don’t know where to start.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  What do you get for someone who despises you?

           From what I can tell, everything in here is pretty expensive, which almost causes me to turn around right then.  Expensive doesn’t fit the guidelines I’ve set for myself. The gift can’t be too sentimental or he’ll know you don’t hate him.  It can’t be too expensive or he’ll think you cared enough to spend money on him.  It can’t be candy because candy is for kids, it can’t be cologne because that’s too personal, it can’t be homemade or he’ll think you spent time and effort on him. The list goes on and on.

           A flash of metal catches my eye, and I turn to see a tiny silver object on a table by the window.  I wander over to it.

           It’s a sheath, only big enough for a dagger, and it’s patterned in bronze rosebuds.  When I pick it up, I discover that the blade is still inside, intact, and actually nicely polished.

           Of course, Snow already has a sword, but when you live with a vampire, what harm would it do to have an extra weapon handy at all times?  One that doesn’t disappear when you’re not using it?

           “How much for this?” I ask the shopkeeper.


When the last day of classes rolls around, I find Baz in our room – no surprises there – packing the last of his things for the holidays.  I clear my throat as I enter.  He turns, but only for a second, and he doesn’t make any other move to acknowledge my existence.  Again, no surprises there.

           “Are you leaving soon?” I ask, trying to at least begin the conversation in a civil manner.

           “Yes, Snow,” he sighs, “as you’ll be thrilled to know.”

           I roll my eyes.  It doesn’t matter what I do.  This is just him.

           I drop my bag on my bed and rummage through it, searching for the tiny gift.  When I find it, I toss in onto his bed.  “Here.”

           He looks at it, his brow furrowed.  “What’s this?”

           “Christmas gift exchange,” I say, “you might have forgotten.”

           He opens the pathetic little square of wrapping paper I’ve taped around the gift card, and mutters something incoherent.  “What was that?” I ask.

           “I said, this is my favourite coffee shop.”

           “Oh,” I reply, not sure what else to say.  “Well, good then.  Happy Christmas, I guess.”

           He slips the card into his pocket and doesn’t move.  I figure he’s completely forgotten about the gift exchange, or he deliberately didn’t get me anything, and decide not to press the subject.  I flop down on my bed and pull out a magic book.  No use in packing for me, I’m not going anywhere. Not like Baz.  Not everyone gets to celebrate with a family.  And certainly not everyone gets to celebrate in a fucking mansion.

           A small wrapped package appears in my periphery. I look up.  Baz is madly arranging clothes in his luggage, trying to look like he didn’t put the thing on my bed.  I’m surprised, I’ll admit.  I guess he didn’t forget.

           “What’s this?” I ask.  I don’t know why I ask it, as the answer is fairly obvious.

           “Just open it,” he says, not looking at me.

           Carefully I pull the tape off of the paper, not wanting to trigger anything in case this is still some sort of prank.  I wouldn’t put anything past him, the boy who literally pushed me down the stairs and tried to feed me to the Chimera.  But nothing ticks, and nothing blows up in my hands.  Slowly I pull the paper back from the object, holding it far away from my face, just to be safe.

           I am not expecting a dagger.

           Specifically, I am not expecting a dagger with a matching sheath that clips onto a belt, adorned with a rosebud pattern of bronze. I am not expecting what appears to be a polished silver blade with a soft leather hilt that fits in my hand like it was molded to the shape of my grip.

           My mouth is hanging open in awe.  I can’t seem to form words.

           I look back up at him.  He’s stopped rearranging his luggage and is watching me, and he looks almost nervous.

           “How much did you spend on this?” I breathe.

           He shakes his head.  “It was just from a pawn shop,” he mutters.

           “Damn, Baz,” I chuckle, “way to make me look like a shit gift-giver.”

           His eyes harden.  “I’ll take it back then,” he growls, moving to take it from my hands.

           “No!”  I clutch the knife to my chest.  He stops, looking surprised, like he hadn’t actually expected me to like it.  How he could think that beats me.  “I love it,” I say, not even realizing that I’ve admitted to something.

           His brow softens a bit.  “I just thought it might be easier than always having to summon your sword,” he shrugs.

           “It’s perfect,” I breathe, staring at the roses on the sheath, spellbound by the thing.

           Suddenly I’m hit by a wave of guilt.  I spent a handful on a lame gift card, when Baz went and actually found me something that would mean something.  I don’t stop to think about why he would want it to mean something, I only know that it leaves the scales completely unbalanced.

           I need to repay him somehow.

           I stand, and suddenly we’re nearly face-to-face. If our room wasn’t so damn tight we wouldn’t be this close together, but for once the proximity doesn’t bother me. It clearly affects him though, because he shies away as soon as I stand.  He won’t even make eye-contact with me.

           “I can’t accept this,” I tell him, “not without paying you back somehow.”

           “What part of the term ‘gift exchange’ do you not understand, Snow?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.  “It’s a gift.  Let’s just wish each other a Happy Christmas and be done with it.”

           “No, that’s not how we work,” I insist.  “I torment you, you torment me, and somehow we always break even.  So now we have to break even on this.”

           “I’m not telling you how much I spent on that,” he shakes his head.

           “Why not?”  My heart drops for a second.  “Was it terribly expensive?”

           “No, it’s just not what you do.  You don’t tell someone what you spent on them, it just makes them feel guilty.”

           “And since when have you ever passed up an opportunity to make me feel guilty?” I challenge.  He doesn’t answer, just stares at something that isn’t my eyes. I can’t quite tell what he’s looking at. Maybe the wall behind me, maybe my shoulder, maybe nothing in particular.

           “Alright,” I concede, “no money, then.  But there must be something I can do.”

           And – Merlin – his cheeks turn pink.

           And now I’m very aware of how close we are.

           And of how I can pinpoint his gaze now.

           He’s looking at my face, but not my eyes.  My mouth.


           I don’t think.  I just lean in and kiss him.


Simon’s mouth, no matter how many times I’ve thought he might kiss me, is a complete shock.  I’ve stared at his lips plenty, but apparently I wasn’t prepared to feel them against mine.

           And now here he is, pressing a gentle kiss to my cold mouth like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

           Before I can even close my eyes, he pulls back.

           I don’t speak.  I don’t trust myself to.

           “Is that alright?” he whispers.

           “Yeah.”  Crowley, I’m shaking.

           “Are we even then?”

           “Um,” I swallow nervously, “almost.”

           “Oh?” He smiles, and my heart stops entirely.  “What else do you want?”

           I lean in by just a fraction, hoping he’ll take the hint.

           He does.

           And then his mouth is flush against mine, not even bothering to be shy.  

anonymous asked:

49.1! yay! thanks for doing this! you're an amazing writer and i love everything you post <3 as for the prompt: maybe malec after a battle? i'm pretty sure you've done this before, but...

thank you and thank you for voting! keep voting for malec (we are at 49.8% right now)

it was bloodied knuckles, bruised and ripped up, the crackle of magic still burning in their nostrils and as they stepped through the portal into the cool silence of the cloisters. magnus was breathing heavy and there was something about feeling out of magic that was terrible. it felt like a flickering lightbulb inside him, and it felt less like he was low on magic and more like he was low on control, like if he didn’t watch himself he would split the ground underneath his feet.

beside him alec ran his fingertips slow down his back and the gesture was calm, the feeling of his hand grounding as magnus turned towards him. in the strange blue pink light of that grand open space, alec looked ruined, one of his lips bloodied, ichor smeared across his cheekbone, his shirt ripped in a few places and his chest rising hard and heavy, all shaky.

but there was something in the way they looked at each other, something that magnus knew alec felt in his veins too. the pleased hum of post battle, the very last bit of that adrenaline fizzling under their skin. it was exhaustion but still being peaked and ready, and so god damn wanting.

but they didn’t act on it yet, magnus just reached out, breathing heavy and crushed alec to his chest, squeezing arms around him as alec pressed his face against his shoulder.

Wishes 6

Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Fantasy
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: Waking up in an unfamiliar room, a girl found herself living a completely different life.

Part: 12 3 4 5 6 (tbc)

Originally posted by kookieluvcookies

“So what do you guys actually do?” You asked, casually, as you set the pasta down the table before settling in between Jungkook and Namjoon. Without being able to find a way home, you figured you might as well help them out for the time being, and as thanks for the (unavoidable) free lodging.

“What? You’ve been here for so long yet you don’t have a clue?” Namjoon smirked mockingly. He had been trying to poke fun at you at every turn (not quite successfully, however, for as much as he liked to think he was smarter than you, it turned out you had read the same things he read, had known the same things he knew, and sometimes more - and you had to admit, winning against such a spiteful guy felt pretty good).

“Of course I have an idea, dumbass. You guys leave things everywhere around here,” you turned to Namjoon nonchalantly, “even your favourite Harry Potter underwear, for example.”

“Pfft!” Someone had choked on water from behind you, before breaking out into a string of endless giggles. Namjoon’s ears, to your satisfaction, turned noticeably red. Yeah, suck on that. You thought triumphantly.

“How dare y…”

“We’re in a band.”

Before his ironically rough high-pitched voice could spat out another word, a calmer one interrupted. Yoongi.

“It’s called BTS.” He continued plainly.

“BTS?” You looked at him quizzically.

“It stands for Bulletproof Boy Scouts.”

What? You couldn’t resist a laugh. “Bulletproof Boy Scouts? You’re a boy band alright. Oh my god!” You slapped Namjoon’s shoulder, laughing like a maniac.

“Y/N, that’s mean.” Jimin pouted in your direction.

“Sorry, sorry! Just give me a second!” Trying to suppress the laughter that was still bubbling inside, you took a deep breath, and continued. “It’s just… very Backstreet Boys-like. I mean, I wouldn’t expect that from you guys. Well, maybe except Namjoon (cue deathly glare from the pink Death Eater). But seriously, what kind of music do you sing?”

“Hip-hop, mostly. But we’re trying to make something of our own.” Yoongi replied proudly.

“And we’re pretty popular too.” Namjoon butted in.

“Namjoon-hyung’s our leader.” Taehyung chirped excitedly.

“And his stage name is Rap Monster.” Jimin smirked.

The bubbles bursted. You threw your head back, filling the room with laughter. “Of course he would be. The Monster of Rap, Kim Namjoon!” You paused, pulling back to look at the poor guy. It wasn’t his day. “Wait, so does this mean you’re good or terrible? Could go either way.”

“Oh please, Y/N. Once you hear my rap, you’ll be my biggest fan.” The Monster of rhythmic words snapped back defiantly (but for all the back and forth exchanges between you guys, you still appreciated the fact that he never took anything to heart).

“Y/N, when they go low, we go high. Don’t sink down to his level.” Yoongi chimed in blankly, still fiddling with his food.

“Yeah! You could instead be blown away by Yoongi hyung’s tongue technology!” added Hoseok.

At the joke that you couldn’t quite get, the whole room exploded.

“I’m done.” Smooth voice abruptly distracted the cheery table, along with the rattling sound of utensils and of wood sliding against the marbled floor. Jungkook walked to the sink and dropped his plate, ignoring all the eyes that fell on him, and strode quickly into his room amidst the sudden silence.

“Is he okay?” Taehyung asked nervously.

You weren’t quite sure how to answer that. Nobody was. For his part, Jungkook wasn’t acting particularly upset - there was no door slamming, table banging or the sort. But even for the quiet person that he was, he had been unusually silent.


“Hey.” You called out softly, before spotting the slumping figure against the wall.

“Hey.” He looked up at you, expressionless, then quickly looking down again.

You climbed onto the bed and seated yourself next to him. He made no remarks of that, and you hoped it was a sign that you could continue.

“I’m sorry. My being here must not have been comfortable for you.”

Suddenly, you found wide eyes facing your own. “No! I want… I mean, I don’t mind having you here. And it’s not like you can help it anyway.” Cool voice rang at your ear. His voice was refreshing music, clearing, freeing your mind of troubles. It was different from Jiyong’s cheery bell-like voice, but somehow had the same effect. Maybe that was why you were comfortable with him most of all.

You smiled. “But it’s at least rather inconvenient, isn’t it? Some girl you didn’t know taking taking up space in your bed everyday. Personally I’d go crazy.”

He crackled softly. Once harderned features melted away for a relaxed, boyish grin. “Haha, as it should be. But you’re pretty alright, somehow.”

“Thank you.” You breathed out, relaxing against the wall. “So, this boy band thing, you’re a part of it?”

“Yeah. Why?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Ah, it’s just… you don’t seem like you like to stand out. So I’m just wondering.”

Soft laughs again. “I see. That’s my impression, huh? But sorry to disappoint, I’m in the band too.” He shrugged.

“I don’t mean it like that, you know?” you slapped his shoulder. “So what do you do there?”

“I sing.” He replied bashfully.

No doubt. With a voice like that I’d listen to you all day too.

“Ah, no doubt. With a voice like that I’d listen to you all day too.”

Wait. Did I just…? As the heat rose up your cheeks, you curse at yourself. And to make it worse, Jungkook was staring at your embarrassing state with eyes so wide, you could swear he wouldn’t even miss a speck of dust on your face. “I… I mean…”

“Ermm.. Thank you. I… really like that.” In your stammering mess, you didn’t notice that he had looked away.

Deep breath. Exhale. You tried your best to make it seem intentional. Be cool, Y/N. Be cool. “Don’t sweat it. It’s a really nice voice.”

Awkward silence. You looked up to the white ceiling of the apartment, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. As you were trying to turn those boorish cracks into a masterpiece, you felt the bed shifting slightly.

“So… Were you able to contact your family at all?” he asked. And you were glad the subject changed. Jungkook had been kind enough to lend you his phone the day you “arrived”.

“Yes, well, not family per se. I texted my boyfriend, but he’s overseas right now. That’s probably why he hasn’t replied yet.”


“Yeah. We’ve been living together.” You smiled at the image of Jiyong on the couch, head resting on your shoulder.

“Together?” His voice rang slightly higher. “What about your family?”

“They’re gone.” You paused, surprised at how once difficult words easily flowed out of your mouth. “There was an accident. A few years back. So he’s the only family for me now.”

“… I’m sorry.” Words were breathed out tenderly.

“It’s okay. That’s a common thing to ask.” You forced out a smile at him - it was nobody’s fault, really. “And I’m okay now. All grown up.” You paused and smile, for real this time. “Kind of.”

“That’s amazing.” He responded, still facing forwards. “My parents are always here for me, and the hyungs have been taking care of me since I was young. I can’t even imagine how I’d be if they were gone.”

You laughed. He doesn’t beat around the bush, does he? “You’ll be surprised at how strong you are,” you rested your head on his shoulder, “how strong you can be. But for me, I still have Jiyong. So I’m pretty lucky.”

“That’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, Jiyong. He was there for me when I had everything, and when I had nothing.”

“What if he was gone? How would you feel?”

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you said people can be really strong. Would you have been able to handle it without him?”

Your first instinct was, Am I on a People magazine interview? But he was serious - you didn’t look at his face, his voice was saying all it needed to say. And this was not something you had never thought about.

“Yes. And no. If he weren’t here, I would still live. I’ll recover, but maybe not as fast, and not as I am now. And I like the me now. But one thing I can say for sure is that I’d be devastated if I don’t have him now.”

“Lucky man.”

“I’m not so sure.” A pause. Then you both looked at each other and laughed. You never thought you would be able to talk so openly about this to someone, and somehow still have a laugh afterwards. 

“Hey, can I ask something of you?” Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking your train of thoughts.

“What is it?”

“Tonight, sleep with me.”

Purple Moose, Orange Squirrel, and A Pink Dress

Hello my pretties!! Here’s a fun little fic that I put together for a couple challenges! I hope you enjoy it!

Check out my masterlist for more stories!

Word count: about 2700

Reader insert, no pairing. Characters: Sam, Dean, Rowena

Warnings: slight canon typical violence, but pretty mild

This was written for @whispersandwhiskerburn Much Ado About Supernatural challenge, prompts: Pagan God, Pie, Pranks, Quote: “We have seen better days”

For @motleymoose Kat’s Mediocre Challenge, Quote: “You’re evil! And you!! You're… Scottish evil!”, Song: Drift Away by Dobie Gray, Western setting

And for @beckawinchester Becka’s Birthday Challenge, Quote: “Stop pointing that thing at me!”, Police Station setting

Prompts are bolded in the story! Feedback is greatly appreciated! XO


Originally posted by malasorte-malavita

“Alright, Winchesters! Never fear, your hero has returned!” You burst into the motel room trying your damnedest not to laugh. You pulled the chestnut brown hair dye from the shopping bag.

“You sure we can’t leave it purple, Sam?” he popped his head out of the bathroom, violet locks swaying. He looked freaking ridiculous but you were really trying not to be an asshole about it, so you choked back your laughter, biting your lip.

“No, Y/N. I’m not keeping the purple hair,” he snapped, snagging the box of dye from your hands. His purple head was quickly replaced by the bright orange face of Dean.

“Please tell me you have something to fix this,” he pointed to his face sadly.

“You guys look terrible…” you commented, smirking slightly. Dean glared back at you.

“We have seen better days,” he sassed, highly irritable, his bitchface not nearly as effective when his skin was glowing like a jack-o’-lantern. “Now tell me there’s something we can do for my freaking face…”

Shaking your head slightly, trying not to kick the sad puppy while he was down, you started to pull things out of the bag.

“Squeeze the lemon in with the baking soda and a little water till you have a paste and scrub scrub scrub!” you shoved the baking soda, lemon, and a sea sponge loofa into his hands. He nodded, a man on a mission, and shut the door to the bathroom.

Keep reading

berry-happy-tokki  asked:

6, (jikook? bc u said jikook?) ((ps. i lov u my cat raiser my sweet lovely jo 💕💕💕💕💕))

🌸6- things you said under the stars and in the grass (ty tokki!!!! u precious bb always asking for the softest things aksnejne i had fun with maknae jimin thats such a cute concept)

park jimin isn’t their golden maknae for nothing: he can sing, can dance, can rap, has boys and girls in the industry or not falling at his feet. all it takes is a smile, a small giggle, a flushed face- and the person before him turns to mush.

“jimin, you look ugly in yellow,” jeongguk growls back in their dorm, eyes slitted dangerously at the sight of their maknae bantering with seokjin and taehyung, laughing about his terrible acting when sandwiched between two professionals. “who’s ugly sweater is that,” jeongguk continues grumbling, rummaging the kitchen for something to eat.

jimin flits over, seductive eyes widened and lips in a pout. “gukkie-hyung thinks i look bad? it’s taehyungie-hyung’s sweater, i was cold and-”

“hands up,” jeongguk cuts him off, and jimin does so, looking like a cold baby penguin in his bubblegum pink hair. in times like this jeongguk is thankful their maknae jimin is the smallest, so the Tall Guy Things work well for him. in seconds, the obnoxious yellow is yanked off carefully, tousling jimin’s mop of fluffy pink, and jeongguk shrugs off his army green jacket with the grey hood and dumps it on jimin.

“you look better in green,” jeongguk says noncommittally, looking away into the wrong direction of the suggestive smiles to the rest of the hyungs instead of the fridge for apple juice. damn it. whatever, he thinks, as he puts on his non-prescription circular frames onto jimin’s little nose. there. “much better,” he mumbles, jimin’s dressed now in his clothing, which ate obviously much bigger so it’s more comfy and warmer, thank you very much.

yoongi’s written lyrics and in spite of jeongguk’s ardent protests that he should write it for their maknae, head producer and genius min suga of course holds the royalties and calls dibs. he scowls, grouchy and when jimin sees his gukkie-hyung like this, his eyes twinkle with mirth, skipping over in a singsong voice. he gets away with almost everything, his hyungs are all so weak for him and he knows it.

“namjoonie-hyung~” jimin whines, “yoongi-hyung wrote me lyrics, i think you should proofread them-”

and everything explodes into chaos when yoongi starts hurling, “yah, brat! i am better than joon, what do you think-!” and jimin just giggles, tossing his head back when he sees jeonggukie-hyung grinning and laughing at yoongi, who’s being comforted by his soul partner, and ever so grumpy.

they go to film at show champion the next day, and when they come back to the dorms all tired and exhausted, jimin can’t seem to find jeongguk, who’s specified he wanted to see him afterwards.

“yoongi-hyung, do you know where jeong-”

“go ask namjoon,” comes the bitter voice, yoongi in a mock pout as he edits one of his selcas to tweet later. hoseok, who’s lying on yoongi’s lap, smacks the elder, and directs jimin to the rooftop. “thank you hobi-hyung~~” is said and he makes his way up.

night has fallen, and jeongguk’s standing alone on that faux grass, admiring the night sky. he hears the creak of the door, and softly smiles when he sees it’s jimin. when the maknae waddles over and stands before him, eyes in curious wonder, jeongguk picks him up by the waist instinctively. jimin meets his eye level now, legs wrapped around his hyung’s waist in reflex, weight supported by jeongguk holding up his apple butt.

“jimin-ah, you’re so tiny, and yet you glow like a little star in the sky,” jeongguk murmurs, “my little rice cake, a small dumpling,” and jimin buries his embarrassed face into the crook of jeongguk’s neck, all flushed and shy.

“you’re very beautiful, just saying.”

he waxes poetic a little more, about how jimin is celestial and heavenly and so very precious and alluring- until he remembers what he wanted to say. “oh, jimin? look at me,”

there’s a soft hum, and jimin looks into his eyes, like melted chocolate. “what’s the difference between a kiss and ppoppo?”

jimin makes no reply, but both of them are under close enough proximity to feel the heat radiating off jimin’s face as he recalls namjoon and seokjin hyung talk about the presence of tongue and how they all got so flustered while recording. “how could you ask me for a ppoppo on camera, huh, you cheeky brat,” jeongguk laughs, presses tiny pecks onto his manggaetteok’s jaw, his cheek, his eyes, his forehead, his temple, his hair;

“that’s a ppoppo, jeonggukie,” jimin whispers back, highly embarrassed now. “yah, i’m your hyung! and those six pecks are me representing all your hyungs, you hear? only i can do it. if hobi-hyung kisses your hair, then it's…. bearable,” jeongguk grits out towards the end. so possessive, jimin thinks, and he laughs, sweaterpaws cradling jeongguk’s cheeks. jeongguk’s just as brilliant as the stars in the sky.

“since jeonggukie-hyung has shown me what a ppoppo is, shall i… shall your maknae show you what a kiss is?”

anonymous asked:

Could you do 17 with eruri please

hii! sorry for the delay! but I hope you enjoy this :) 

“17. You’re embarrassing yourself”

14th February. Lover’s day as it is commonly known. A day which, through the years Levi grew to enjoy. A surprise to many. As he grew older and continued to lose the ones he loved he took it upon himself to take Lover’s day in his grasp and make it his own. He liked that there was a designated time for frivolities. He would show his love for his friends in small ways this day. 

Petra: he bought her some sweet treats from the bakery in town. throwing the box on the table in the morning at breakfast. “here, don’t make yourself sick.” With that he nods and returns back to his table of tasteless porridge and Erwin  

Gunther: He finds the man an hour later. “I got one of the other recruits to do the stables for you today. Do whatever you want.” He walks away before Gunther can even offer him a smile of thanks. Levi returning to Erwin who is speaking to a merchant on the parade ground. 

Eld: he offers him a new quill, ink and parchment for him to write to his lover. “I got sick of your whining. “ he turns as Erwin calls his name. “better get writing.” levi shouts over his shoulder as he marches to the commander. 

Oluo: He promises a drink for later on in the week his treat of course. He offers the proposal on his way to the commanders office that morning. 

He gives mike some lavender oil knowing it helps the man sleep at night. He hands the vile over at the officers meeting is bought to a close. To Nabana He offers her two tickets to the local theatre. “the play looks like something you’d enjoy.” she smiles brightly as she hands the spare to mike. Hanji comes bounding over just as Mike and Nabana Leave the office. “So what you get me?!” Levi offers them a deep glare before walking back to his seat, gathering up a bottle of Whiskey and a notebook. He ignores Hanji and turns to Molbit. “The book because you mentioned you needed a new one, and the whiskey to put up with that.” he shakes his head in Hanji’s direction which causes a very dramatic gasp to escape their lips. “and Hanji, I’ve hidden your present in you office.” He lies. “the only way you will find it is if you tidy that shit hole. Hanji all but runs out of the office in excitement Molbit begging for them to slow down.

There is a loud chuckle, Levi turns and meets Erwin’s humorous gaze. “And Where have you truly hidden their present?” Of course Erwin could tell he was lying. As if he could read Levi’s mind. Levi clicks his tongue and sits back down on the sofa closest to Erwin. “It’s in my room, I’ll give it to them once they have cleaned.” Erwin laughs again as he shuffles papers on the table. Levi watches as the commanders eyes crinkle in joy, the crows feet etching against his eyes. A beautiful sight to see. “Do you want yours?” he asks pointedly avoiding Erwin’s gaze. 

“Oh, Levi. You didn’t need to get me something.”

Levi clicks his tongue and crosses his legs. “I don’t need to, yeah. But I wanted to. Do you want it or not?” He asks a little more harshly, he can feel himself blushing. Erwin smiles over at him, watching the tips of levi’s ears grow pink under the gaze. “Then of course.”

Levi stands quickly walking over to the small basket he had bought into the meeting and pulls out the final present. he pushes it over to Erwin on the table. The commander looks at it curiously. Levi was always terrible at wrapping presents. Why last winter solstice Levi had bought Erwin a gift, Erwin was so excited to discover what the round gift could be that he couldn’t help his reaction when he finally opened it to find socks inside. But this gift Erwin could see that Levi had tried to wrap it up as best he could. 

Erwin was still not expecting what was inside. it was a small tree. A very small tree. “oh.” is all he can say as he looks at the plant, it is as if someone had taken a normal tree and somehow shrunk it down. It was beautiful, and nothing Erwin had ever seen in his life. 

“You don’t like it?” Levi asks finally when Erwin remains silent. He bites his lip anxiously. “No, god no. Levi, This is beautiful. Wh-Where did you get it.” Levi can’t help but look away as Erwin finally meets his eyes. He clears his throat softly. “An old Woman had a number of them in the underground….said they were past down to her, her family bought them into the walls at the very start- She told me how to look after them. So I have notes. But-” He bites his lip again allowing himself a moment to think. “I thought, It’s a piece of the outside world, you know? I can’t give you the salt waters or the lands of ice. But I thought- you know…” he trails off awkwardly, He doesn’t regret giving Erwin the tree but perhaps this gift showed too much of his feelings. “I need to stop embarrassing myself, don’t I?” He states as he brushes invisible dust from his trousers. He looks over quickly and sees Erwin smiling softly at him. “Would you like to go to dinner later?” Erwin asks. “Just you and I? I too have a gift for you.” 

Faking It - part 4

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, reader

After getting news about a family reunion coming up, the reader decides to set up aplan to  make her look like she isn’t as single as she actually is. But when all her candidates can’t go, she’s left with the only person who she least expects to go along with the plan.

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: leT ME TELL YOU this was longer than expected, but you guys love this story so much so ya’ll will enjoy it. Smut chapter is next and I’m rolling up my sleeves on it. If you want to be tagged just ask and if I forgot you, (because people are constantly asking to be tagged so I forget a few people) I do apologize

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3


Originally posted by justall-myfeelings

 The light poured in through the open windows. You squinted at the rays and pulled the duvet over your head. Bucky’s arm was wrapped around your waist. He groaned and buried his head in the pillow. His grip tightened on your hips but quickly loosened. You were about to fall asleep once again when your phone rang. An annoyed moan escaped your lips. You turned and reached over Bucky’s torso to grab your phone. 

“Hullo,” Your voice rough. 

“Y/N did I wake you?” Your Mother asked. 

“No,” You lied, “I was just….making breakfast." 

"I see,” You knew that she was smiling. You could practically hear it through the phone. “Tomorrow is the gala. You know the one that your Father’s company hosts each year. I’d like for you to come. It would be your first time.”

The charity gala happens every year. All of your Father’s coworkers and bosses, get together for some drinking, eating and mingling. There is even an auction. Women and men volunteer to be auctioned off as dates and all the money goes to charity. The idea of being auctioned off makes you think of slavery, but other people think differently because the money goes to charity. Nonetheless, the idea puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I don’t know,” You said. “I don’t even have a dress.”

“That’s okay! Your sister and I are going dress shopping today.”  You winced, knowing there was no excuse to get out of this one. “We’ll pick you up at around 2 PM, be ready by then, Erika doesn’t like waiting.”

You gave her the address to the house and hung up. Your shoulders slumped and let your phone fall onto the bed before settling back under the sheets.

“Who was that?” Bucky asked.

“My Mother,” You mumbled. “We have to go to a charity gala tomorrow.”

“Dress code?” He questioned.

“Formal of course,” You said. “You’re gonna need a suit.”

You and Bucky have been to enough formal parties, galas, and other occasions to know the routine. Thanks to Tony, who had probably gone to more galas than you can count. Fortunately, back when you were a teen you weren’t able to go because it’s 18+. Now, you’re over the age restriction which means that your Mother is ecstatic to have her whole family there.

“Is your entire family going?” He asked.

“Nope,” You were relieved. Your Aunts never went, mainly because they all have children that were under 15, so there was no one to care for them.

“Are you going out?”

“Yes,” You sighed. “Mother wants to go dress shopping. Call Tony, maybe he can recommend a tailor or tell you where the nearest Men’s Warehouse is.” You patted his chest and pushed yourself off the bed.

“I’ll be back later, Bucky,” You called and adjusted the strap of your small backpack.

He nodded and pecked your lips, knowing that your sister and Mother were watching. “Tony hired this specialist, they’re gonna get me fitted for a suit.”

“Make sure it’s a black tie,” You added as you walked away from the door.

“Y/N, Bucky is good-looking and rich? You hit the jackpot!” Your sister exclaimed when you entered the car.

“This is Mr. Stark’s home. Not Bucky’s,” You snorted at her comment.

The store you went to, was in Hollywood of course. It was a very expensive store and you certainly weren’t rich. Beautiful gowns were lined up on racks along the walls. A clerk approached the three of you.

“Welcome, ladies, how may I help you today?” She asked.

“We’re looking for evening gowns,” Your mother said.

“Event?” The woman asked.

“Gala,” Erika intervened.

“Right this way.” You followed her further into the store until you reached back section where even more dresses were waiting to be picked. You began a search for your own dress. Very lazily, you eyed each dress you touched. In reality, you didn’t know what you were looking for. You didn’t know what color, what design.

“See anything you like?” Erika asked. You shook your head as she took out a dress and motioned for the clerk to put it in her dressing room.

“Would you ladies like some champagne?” A different clerk asked.

You smiled and gladly took a glass from the tray she held. Erika on the other hand refused. She wrinkled her nose, “I absolutely despise that stuff.”

“You’re no fun,” You mumbled as you threw your head back and guzzled down the strong liquid. The next half hour you walked around the store, with your glass in hand and your mind not there. You didn’t want to be here, but here you sadly were.

When it was your mother’s turn to try on her dresses, you and Erika sat down on the provided couch while she got into her first gown. You had lost count of a number of champagne glasses you had consumed, yet you continued to request a refill.

“So Y/N,” Your sister began. “How’s Bucky in bed?”

You nearly spit out your champagne. Instead, you choked on the liquid and coughed violently. “Did Betty put you up to this?” You eyed her.

She shook her head, “Can’t I ask? It’s not like I didn’t tell you the first time David and I had sex.”

“Yes and I am forever grateful for that valuable information,” You said sarcastically. The last time you had sex, was in a one night stand. You certainly weren’t going to tell her that.

Your mother tried on all four of her dresses. After ten minutes of arguing, all three of you came to a conclusion that dress number 2 was the better choice. Your sister was next. She jumped up excitedly and waltzed into the dressing rooms. You leaned back and ran your finger over the rim of the glass.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Your Mom asked.

You were pulled out of your daze and turned to look at her before giving her a sheepish smile, “I’m great.”

“I love it!” Erika exclaimed as she walked out of the dressing room. “Mom look at the sweetheart neckline!” She squealed and ran her hands over her chest.

“It looks good,” Your mother agreed.

“But,” Erika added. “It doesn’t show my curves and the color is too bright.” Without another word, she disappeared back into the dressing room.

Erika tried on a total of 7 dresses. You offered pointers on which ones looked good and which ones didn’t. Finally, she was brought down to two dressed. A black tight gown with a sweetheart neckline that she adores and a pale pink maxi dress that had a thigh split. After careful consideration, she went with the black dress.

“Your turn, Y/N.” Erika smiled.

“Oh, I didn’t find anything,” You said bluntly.

“We aren’t leaving until you find something,” Your mother threatened.

You turned to the clerk, “Surprise me.”

Minutes late you found yourself in the changing room with three different gowns. The first one was such a terrible combination of red and white, that you didn’t bother to come out of the room. Instead, you slipped into the second dress. A beautiful creme colored dress with a plunging neckline. A thick gold belt rested just below your breasts. The skirt split at the thigh and you had to admit, you looked great. You walked out of the dressing room and stood on the elevated platform in front of the mirror. Your mother and sister seemed to approve.

“That looks amazing,” Erika said.

“You look like a goddess,” Your Mother added.

“My boobs are pushed up to my ears,” You complained and pulled up the neckline. You lifted the skirt and walked off the platform.

“This is the last dress, Miss,” The clerk said as she took out the third dress. You handed her the gown you just had on and slipped into the dark blue one.

It was tight and showed off every single curve you had. The loose mermaid end trailed behind you. The torso was a wrap around. It hugged your neck and showed off a small piece of your stomach in the shape of a triangle. You walked out of the room.

“That is your dress,” Erika said and did a small clap of glee.

“That looks stupendous,” Your mother agreed. “You are taking it.”

You examined yourself in the mirror. You felt beautiful. Like a queen. Like you could conquer an entire country and gladly rule it alone.

“This is my dress,” You repeated and you believed it.

“Doll,” Bucky knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you ready?”

Your heart nearly fell down to your ass. You were ready, yes, you were just really nervous. With a last quick glance in the mirror, you nodded and walked towards the door. Your heels clicking against the marble floor.

Your hand rested on the knob before you slid the doors open. Bucky was standing on the other side, your jaw fell agape. He wore a perfectly fitted tuxedo. His white dressing shirt stretched out against his chest and the black tie hung perfectly tied around his neck. His hair was combed back to keep it out of his face. Overall, Bucky looked handsome.

“That specialist did a good job,” You noted.

“Y/N,” he began. “You look gorgeous.”

You blushed and let your gaze fall to your covered feet. He tilted your chin up using his index finger. His blue eyes met yours and it was a brief moment of intense eye sex.

He cleared his throat, “We should get going.”

You nodded and he took a step back before offering you his arm. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as your looped your arm through his.

Instead of leading you outside to where your car was parked, Bucky took you to Tony’s car garage. Cars were lined up under the fluorescent lights. Different colors, brand, and design.

“Stark doesn’t have to find out,” Bucky grinned mischievously and walked towards a Camaro.

“But what if he does,” You insisted. “Or what if something happens, I certainly can’t pay off a car like this one.” You motioned to the Lamborghini.

“Nothing bad will happen, Y/N.” He looked at you. “Have a little faith in your man.” He winked and you rolled your eyes before reluctantly sliding into the passenger seat of a black Corvette.

Bucky found the keys and stuck them into the ignition. The engine roared to life. The doors opened and Bucky raced out of the garage. Tires squealing against the concrete as speedometer told the miles per hour.





There was an exhilarating feeling that was rising inside of you. Adrenaline. The need for speed. A wide smile broke onto your face and you laughed. Bucky joined you as he accelerated the speed. This was a side of Bucky you’ve never seen before. He was being cocky. And you liked it.

You arrive at the gala, arm in arm with Bucky. Several people that you barely knew came forwards and struck up a conversation. Telling you about how you’ve grown and how you look like a woman now. Bucky identified himself as your boyfriend and they wished you many happy years.

Your grip tightened on Bucky’s arm when you spotted someone you haven’t seen in years. Adam Clair was your boyfriend for 2 years until he broke your heart and turned to a spunky redhead. It took so long to get over him, now all you felt for him was rage. A blond now clung onto his arm.

“Shit,” You muttered under your breath when he spotted you.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

“My ex is walking over here,” You looked at him.

“You want me to punch him?” He asked.

“What? No!” You whisper-yelled.


You pulled your best fake smile and straightened up as you looked at him.

“Hi Adam,” Your cheeks throbbed from all the smiling. “How have you been?”

“Busy running a business,” He said smugly. After Adam’s father died, he inherited Clair & Co.

“Sounds exhausting,” You rolled your eyes.

“This is my fiancée, Briana Knight.” Adam introduced the blond.

You were a bit taken aback. You didn’t expect him to be tied down to one girl for so long. Nevertheless, here he was, with a fiancée. She smiled widely and extended her arm for a handshake

“So nice to meet you, Briana,” You stated kindly. Briana shook Bucky’s hand as well. “This is Bucky Barnes, my boyfriend.”

“Barnes?” Adam asked, his gaze drifted to Bucky’s arm. His metal one. Realization flashed across his eyes. “You’re The Bucky Barnes! The Winter Soldier! No wonder you looked so familiar.”

Bucky stiffened beside you. The tension between you tightened as Adam continued to talk.

“Man, always knew you liked a bit of danger in your life Y/N but never imagined you’d date a criminal,” he laughed and you burned with anger. “An assassin.” He burst into laughter.

Briana gave an apologetic frown. Sympathy showing clearly in her hazel eyes.

You stepped towards Adam, but before you could do anything else, Bucky wrapped an arm around yours and pulled you away. Before you could give Adam hell, you were already being dragged away.

“Let it go,” Bucky said.

“I can’t just let him say that stuff!” You huffed.

“Yes you can, I’m already used to it, Y/N.” He paused. “Besides can’t let you attack him, you’ll probably break a few bones. You’re too pretty to be angry right now, doll.”

“Boy, do you have a way with words, Barnes,” You said alluringly.

You found the table that your family was sitting and joined them. Your Father commented that you looked beautiful in the dress and your Mother butted in, saying that she picked it out. Erika sat proudly next to her fiancé, Ashton. Rose, Jay’s wife sat alone, with your brother nowhere to be seen.

The night dragged on, you already ate and the auction was soon to commence. You wanted to leave already, but your Mother just kept on pulling you or Bucky into a different conversation. Your Dad absolutely loved Bucky. He talked about various things with him and the other men.

“It’s time to bring out your wallets ladies and gentlemen because we’re about to begin the auction.” A man on the stage announced.

Many people straightened up and turned their attention to the stage. Some men were smugly talking about how much money they were planning on spending. A few of the ladies were whispering excitedly, talking about which men hopefully would bid on them. You winced at their words.

Bucky placed a hand on your knee. You looked at him, he smiled slyly at you. You were grateful for his continuous encouragement throughout the entire time.

His hand began to slide higher until it rested on your thigh. You sucked in a sharp breath and your stomach caved in. Your heart began to play a game of ‘See How Fast I Can Beat.’ A  heavy exhale escaped your lips. You knew that he knew what he was doing to you. He looked at you from the corner of his eye. Never in your life did you want to kiss him as much as you wanted to right now.

You stood up abruptly and excused yourself from the table. Your cheeks burned as you moved swiftly among the tables. The bathroom was in a secluded area. Before you stepped inside, you leaned against a tall column.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked.

You turned and glared at him. He smiled at the fact that you couldn’t hide the lust that filled your eyes. He stepped closer until your back was pinned up against the column.

His lips captured yours in a heated kiss. Bucky’s hands explored your body until they settled on the curve of your cloth-covered bottom. You tried not to moan when his mouth left yours. He left a trail of hot wet kisses on your neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered against your skin.

His low voice sent a chill down your spine that only fueled the fire in your core. Your chest heaved violently against his.

“Bucky,” You said breathlessly. “We can’t do this here.”

He pulled back and looked at you, the desire in his eyes was clear. “You want to get out of here?”

“Hell yeah,” You replied as he took your hand. The two of you sneaked away from the gala and into the open air where the valet was already waiting.

tagged:  @secrets-rain @buckys-other-punk @lost-to-my-mind@fearthedietcoke @sheerio-styles@angelpeachamber @my-jekyll-doesnt-hide @5-seconds-of-sebastian-stan @barnes-and-noble-girl@procrastinatingvirgo @juliagolia87 @avengerswitch @fav-fan-fic@nebulaeofpie@shamvictoria11 @brooklynnewsie1899@caitsymichelle13@jade-cheshire@i-want-to-fuck-that-dorito-man@theriumking @faithful-music @myhighanddry-blog@amrita31199 @nadialinett14@heismyhunter@marvelgoateecollection@hattnco@imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes@ambrosedreamer @heyitsannexcx @crazy-attack@glitterangell @dontdumpyour-wackadoo-onme @writemeatale @akaganhan @lexbugz @star-arm-and-shield @carpe-diem-infinity21 @ithecrownjewel @willowtighe @sebstan01 @white-calamity @spn-worm@dummheitfeiertseincomeback @kcsavege4134 @darkheartvamp @baileys-corner@t0ny-st4nk @buckyb-avengers @lilacs-lavender @-tulipsunflower-@faithfulpanicmoon@cutecuddlycalpal @virtualenemygalaxy @winter-in-wakanda @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @seargantbcky @heytherepartner @1kutepup2001 @falling-buxky @alittlewerewolfgirl @guccichanelarmani @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@minaphobia @pickylittlebitch @porpentinagscamander @kitty-5213 @aweways@swiftavengers @elisa-ramirez14 @xxhusnaaxx @hush-littlebunny @bucknastywinterbear@bubble-dreamer123 @catmaidpancake @popqueen96 @bucky–b4rnes @kaykayvoltage53 @myfleshtastesliketearsfromcrying @oopsmybagofplums @irepeldirt @missmalfoy1703@crazychick010 @rapunzxl @akaganhan @klutzly @lifeislikeatimebomb @fangirl1029 @laxjaneen @dare-to-dream-about-1d @themistsofmyavalon @apeshit7x @shannonfayee @coconutlagoon @sammiplier1 @slut-for-barnes

*Tumblr didn’t let me tag a few users so I will just send you this part via message

anonymous asked:

how about...... jansen wedding (as a prompt)

A/N: this is way too long I’m sorry

Evan’s hands are shaky as Zoe fixes his tie. He never thought he’d be with his ex-girlfriend he totally lied to about the death of her brother now, but here she was, performing in his wedding.

“Stop shaking- you look wonderful.” Zoe pleads. Evan nods, but doesn’t stop. She takes his hands in hers and squeezes them, and he’s able to let out a breath.

Zoe’s smile shines brighter than it ever did in high school, and Evan is so grateful that they ended up friends. Her freckles have become more prominent and her hair tumbles down, slightly covering the dress in the rosy color Jared had chosen that matched the flowers that would be adorning the entire wedding hall.

“You look so beautiful. Thank you for helping me.” Evan says, pulling her in for a hug. He’s in a sleek black tux, with a small pink rose tucked into the lapel, that his mom had to help him pick because he’s absolutely no good at these kinds of things and he was worried he’d pick something terrible that would make everything look worse and Jared would be angry and not angry enough to call off the wedding but just peeved enough to make Evan uncomfortable then they’d have an argument and-

“Thinking again?” Zoe asks, pulling Evan back to reality.

“Yeah.” He says bluntly.

“Don’t.” She smiles. “You’re getting married, Evan! To your high school sweetheart!”

“We didn’t start dating until after high school actually, because of-” he stops, and Zoe thinks it’s because of awkwardness or solemnity, but Evan looked up and remembered something, grabbing something very small from a bag.

“I almost forgot. I need you to do something for me.” He hands it to Zoe, and the audibly gasps.


“If Jared and I hadn’t fought, we wouldn’t have gotten together again, stronger and better. All thanks to… just. Put it behind our grandparents and great-somethings. It’ll be fine.”

Zoe looks like she’s about to tear up, but she sucks it in and heads for the door, giving Evan one last look before leaving.

Evan looks at himself in the mirror. He never thought he’d see this day. It doesn’t actually feel like it’s happening- like he’s dreaming.

God, he hopes that feeling goes away.

Jared’s probably puffing out his chest and dancing to some Beyoncé number, but not because he’s overflowing with confidence, but because that’s just how Jared shakes off his nerves.

He’s been told multiple times by his mom, and Zoe, and Alana, and even Jared, that the wedding is for the two of them and they shouldn’t worry about anyone else’s thoughts because this is for them and them alone.

Others have said otherwise.

Evan still remembers the day it happened.

It wasn’t big or fancy, just the two of them. The two had gone to an open field Evan has found and filled Jared’s old pickup with loads of blankets and pillows to stargaze.

They were chatting and giggling and playing with each other’s hair and pointing at different stars, giving them stupid names, when Jared sat up and let Evan sit up next to him.

He let out a deep breath and Evan immediately thought he was getting broken up with, which he honestly should’ve been expecting because someone like him would never get a fairytale ending with a super cute boy he’d been through heaven and hell with-

“Do you wanna marry me?”

Excuse me?

“Excuse me?”

“Evan Hansen- will. you. marry. me. I’m in love with you. And I don’t think I’m ever gonna be in love with anyone else, there’s never gonna be anyone who’s better, and I even bought a ring, so will you marry me?” Jared pulls out a little black box and opens it up and Evan looks at the sleek silver ring staring back at him, and he might cry, and Jared might cry, and this is too unreal.

“Are you for serious?”

“Absolutely. I’m getting this cliche on you.”

They laugh. And Evan is still. And then he breaks into tears and jumps on Jared, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek.

“Yes! Of course!”

Jared is probably crying now too, and they kiss and laugh and watch the stars turn to morning together.

He passes the memoriam table on his way. It makes him laugh. Relatives he’s never met sit at the front.

Some of them look like Heidi- it’s funny.

Some relatives of Jared he’s never met.

The small picture frame in the back with the tall boy in all black, with multicolored eyes and wild, shaggy hair.

His dad.

“You ready?” He hears, and doesn’t think anymore, because his mom is standing right there.

Heidi looks radiant. A light is in her eyes that Evan’s never seen. She’s dressed up and she hugs Evan tighter than she’s ever hugged him before.

“I am so proud of you.” She chokes out.

Evan laughs and wipes a tear from her eye. “Don’t cry mom, we’re not even married yet.”

“I know.” Someone comes out to beckon them. “But you’re about to be.”

Evan tries to cherish every moment as he offers his mom his arm. Walking through the curtain. Seeing Jared at the front, not crying or smiling, but making a funny face while his eyes can’t hide the awe he’s in.

They hold hands. There’s practically no one else in the room. They promise each other to stay forever and ever, even until Jared dies in freak water balloon incident (most likely).

“You may now kiss the groom.”

And they do. And Jared wraps his arm around Evan’s waist and dips him so everyone cheers, and they smile at Zoe who’s standing next to Alana in the lineup, and everyone claps as they walk out.

And they decide Mr. and Mr. Hansen-Kleinman has a nice ring to it.