this was prompted by a post that disappeared before i could respond to it


Originally posted by sanestilinski

Pairing: Montgomery de la Cruz x Reader

Request: “40 – Montgomery de la Cruz”


40. “Your girlfriend hates me too.”

Word count: 1.890

Posted: 22nd of May 2017

A/N: Here’s another imagine from Aja’s long list. I am happy to say that I’ve almost made through her list and I might post two imagines tomorrow. Who knows? I am hoping.
Anyways, I hope that you like this imagine. I hate myself, because I keep on coming up with sad endings. Sorry. HAHAHA. A massive thank you for your support guys and I love you so much. I am happy to receive some positive feedbacks from you and your nice comments really make my day complete. Thank you so so so much, really! Enjoy this imagine!

P.S.: I am not accepting part 2 requests for my prompt imagines. Sorry.

- G. x 

Link: Prompt list

Warning: contains swearing

“(Y/N), I need a muse for my Arts project, please.” Tyler, your best friend, insisted for the millionth time as he wanted you to model for him. He was the professional photographer of your school and he took pictures of everyone, but he has always wanted to have his own personal muse.

“Ty, I know that I’ve always been your muse, but I am busy this week. C'mon!” You answered, miffed. You explained him for more than thirty minutes why you were turning him down that time, but it didn’t seem that he understood your point.

“Damn!” He unleashed a heavy sigh as he watched you getting the things you needed for your Science class in your locker. “Who’s going to be my muse now?”

“I don’t know, Ty.” You shoved your books in your backpack and you carelessly shut your locker’s door. “Sorry.” You’ve never declined his offer, because you always had fun during your photoshoots with him, but you were really busy and you really felt sorry for him.

“Can’t you think of anyone who might accept my offer?” He desperately asked and followed you along the hallway as you started to walk towards your class.

You didn’t want to disappoint your best friend and you knew how paranoid he became when it came to searching for his muse. He never had this problem, since you’ve always accepted his offer, and he didn’t know what to do, panic was surely occupying his emotions.

You knew Tyler and he would always stick to only one subject for his school projects. You surely disappointed him, but he couldn’t blame you, because he knew that you had your own life too.

“Ty, why don’t you ask Jessica or Sheri?” You suggested as you stopped yourself from walking, which caused you and Tyler to bump into each other, fortunately not hurting yourselves.

“Alright, but you owe me one.” He was offended, but Tyler was a sweetheart and he understood serious things quickly. He was your best friend because he knew how to cope with you and how to respect your own decisions.

“No, I don’t!” You playfully replied, giggling as you saw him flashing his sweetest smile.

“Of course, you do.” He winked at you as he fidgeted with the cameras dangling on his neck. You both laughed, nevertheless it wasn’t really a big deal.

“I need to go, Ty.” You flashed him a smile as you thrusted your head to your classroom’s direction. He nodded with a big and wide smile on his face.

“Take care, okay?” He reminded you and you just nodded as you started to walk again, increasing the distance between the two of you. “You owe me something, remember that!”

“She doesn’t!” You heard a deep voice along the hallway and you perfectly knew to whom it belonged: Montgomery, your boyfriend.

“What do you want, Montgomery?” Tyler’s shaky voice demanded for you to turn around and to check what was going on between them. The hallway was almost empty and some students were already in their respective classrooms. “(Y/N) is my best friend, I have the right to talk to her.”

“No, you leave her alone.” Your eyes widen and you quickly ran back to Tyler and Montgomery as you heard a sudden loud and sharp bang against the cold metal locker doors. “Freak!”

“Monty!” You stopped your boyfriend, but he just grabbed Tyler’s midnight blue button up shirt and tightened his grip as much as he could.

“Fucking leave her alone.” Montgomery threatened your best friend with his angry voice and eyes widened, showing that the sight of Tyler talking to you displeased and vexed him.

“These are thousand dollar cameras.” Your best friend tried to defend himself, protecting his beloved cameras. He really loved them, because photography was his life and favourite hobby too. You stood in front of them and you thought that your presence would have stopped Montgomery from pushing Tyler against the lockers behind him.

“Oh, yeah.” Montgomery nodded as he looked straight into Tyler’s eyes. He was struggling a little bit as Tyler was little taller than him. “I’ll break them on your face.”

“Montgomery, stop!” You pushed your boyfriend away, pulling his fist off Tyler’s clothes.

Montgomery was acting up, because he was jealous of your relationship with Tyler. You surely knew Tyler longer than you and Montgomery did, so he was afraid that you would leave him for your best friend.

“Threatening Tyler with your useless shit wouldn’t help you to ruin my relationship with him, okay?” You fiercely looked at your boyfriend’s eyes as you let him understand that he was doing the wrong thing.

“Don’t worry,” Tyler blurted out as he fixed his crumpled shirt. “your girlfriend hates me too.” He pointed out as he was referring to your action before, declining his proposal to be his muse. He shrugged his shoulders off, trying to assure Montgomery.

“Cut it off, Tyler!” You rolled your eyes. “I can do this on my own, go to your next class and I will see you later.”

“Alright, fine!” Tyler guiltily responded as he walked quickly through the empty corridors of your school. You watched his silhouette disappearing slowly from afar and you turned yourself to your still-miffed-boyfriend.

“Let’s go, de la Cruz!” You grabbed his forearm and you dragged him to the main entrance of your school. “We’re talking about your behaviour, because I am starting to be fed up. Okay?”

You heard him unleashing a long sigh and he foresaw the trouble that he was into. He was just afraid to lose you and you couldn’t blame him, but he was overreacting and he was menacing someone who meant a lot to you.

You both sat down on a bench, putting your school materials aside, and you inhaled some fresh air first, before you let the happening sink in your mind once again. The rage wrapped your body one more time and you looked at Montgomery, trying to catch his gaze.

“Fuck this silence!” Montgomery threw a fit and he stood up from the bench. He seriously considered your eyes and he saw your dull gaze. “I’m sorry, okay? I was just jealous.”

“I know, Montgomery,” You unleashed a deep and heavy sigh. You couldn’t believe that he was still jealous of Tyler and you were already dating for almost five months, five long months. “but you couldn’t keep on threatening my best friend whenever your jealousy takes control of your good and kind heart.”

“Of course, I can.” He bravely objected your statement. “I’m your boyfriend, he’s just your best friend.”

You knew Montgomery and he was a tough guy. He would do anything to protect you and your relationship. He would fight against people to maintain the bond between the two of you.

You loved him even though he was like that and you were trying to let him understand that he should stop worrying about your relationship, because your heart beat only for him. In fact, he was the perfect boyfriend that you could ever wish for, but all of us had our own imperfections. Montgomery’s imperfection was this: his inability to control his anger and his jealousy.

“It doesn’t work that way. Do you know that?” You remained calm as you fidgeted with your long dark sleeves. Finally shaking off the thought that you were skipping your class for a pointless chaos. You tried to not to cry, because you had to be strong. He had to listen to you and you knew that he wouldn’t if you just broke down.

“He is obstructing our relationship, (Y/N). I would be worried if I didn’t care about what he was doing, you know?” He debated, not getting the real point of your opinion. He was a hard-headed guy and you sometimes despised him for being one.

“No, Montgomery!” You protested, standing up from the bench. “You know what is obstructing our relationship?”

“Tyler!” He stated as he raised his voice, still convinced that the real cause was Tyler. You shook your head continuously to let him know that his answer was wrong. He wasn’t stupid, but he was blinded by his jealousy. Of course.

“Wrong!” You whispered as you leant towards him, diminishing the distances of your faces. “Your trust, Montgomery.” You poked his chest with your index finger as you ferociously pointed out. “Trust.”

“Okay, I had my doubts, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t trust you.” Montgomery lowered his voice as he calmly explained his thoughts, but you thought that they were just some sort of excuses.

“Your doubts?” You questioned him. “You had your doubts again?”

“Yes!” He bravely answered, almost shouting against you.

“And you want us to be together, nevertheless your doubts?” You asked him, being sure of what he had in his mind. Tears were about to escape, but you stopped them. You needed to be strong, remember? You couldn’t believe that he doubted on you once again, even though you never missed any chance to make him feel that you loved him. He doubted on you and it seriously hurt you.

“Yes!” He repeated with a sure and convinced voice timbre. He didn’t notice that you were hurt and he still kept his pride, shielding himself against your opinion.

“You know what those doubts are doing in our relationship?” You mumbled, the words were almost couldn’t be heard.

“No.” His feet suddenly became more interesting than seeing your face. His voice died as he honestly responded to your question.

“They are wrecking us.” You weakly blurted out. You couldn’t imagine your life without Montgomery and it broke you, everything broke you. “So, if you don’t want to lose me, start shaking off those doubts, because I love you. You, only you, and no one else, Montgomery!”

You grabbed your backpack and your books from the bench as you slowly walked away from Montgomery, leaving him with his mouth ajar. You decided to head to your Science class, although you were already late. It was always better to be late, than never. Right?

The journey was hard and heavy for you. The love that you were feeling for Montgomery was pulling you to bring you back next to him. You wanted to let him know that he would never lose you, no matter what happened between the two of you. He would never lose you, because you didn’t want to lose him either.

You loved Montgomery so much, but he doubted on you. It was heart-breaking, because you didn’t expect that he would doubt on you again, the first time was when he didn’t know that Tyler was your best friend and he thought that you were cheating on him. Sad, right? But he was excused that time.

You walked away from him and you let your tears to run down your face, letting your resentments out. Tears were slowly burning your crimson red cheeks.

He had his point on being jealous of your relationship with Tyler, but doubting on you? That was wrong, because, after all, doubts were the one who ruined relationships the most.

Montgomery hurt you and you would always forgive him, he just needed to realize his mistake after you opened his eyes.

It was better to be safe than to be sorry, right? Right.

Well This Is Awkward Pt. 1 (Peter Parker x Reader)


A/N: I decided to combine these two requests together and change it a tiny bit! Just want to thank the anons for the kindness and the requests! Hope this is what the both of you were looking for (or better)! Enjoy! P.S… this is my second attempt writing this so hopefully it’s good lol Part two will be written and posted upon request.

Summary: Being the child of an Avenger isn’t as cool as everyone thinks.

Word Count: 2,647

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Slight anxiety attack. Teen angst. Civil War spoilers? I tiny bit?

Originally posted by system-on-fire

Masterlist | Prompts | Let’s Talk/ Send a RequestRequest/Taglist/Share

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|| The New Girl ||

{summary: “the other students call Peter ‘Penis’ Parker.”}

this whole story was inspired by a snippet in an ign article that i screencapped and posted yesterday x))))) it was the best prompt for me and i just had to write something short and sweet for it!

this is dedicated to all of my readers out there who have given my stories a chance and followed this blog. i really love you guys and i thank you so much for making this personal blog of mine so much fun to run!

warnings: none

**Please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine!**


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sansapotter  asked:

jon x sansa brown please :)

SOOO this kind of came out differently than I expected but I hope you like it!! And thank you for sending a prompt in <3 

+ colour au prompts + 

It’s a Monday morning when he stumbles into her coffee shop with a dark purpling bruise along his jawline and a white bandage covering the bridge of his nose. Sansa has seen a lot of strange people during the morning coffee rush – mostly disheveled and grumpy adults and occasionally the bleary-eyed student who hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours – but he’s certainly new. Sansa keeps him in her peripheral throughout the half hour he spends in her shop. She tries to tell herself it’s because he looks dodgy, but another part of her brain – the part that’s been single for over a year – traitorously tells her it’s because he’s got sinfully full lips.

She doesn’t expect to see him again after he drags himself back out into the world, but Thursday morning, he wanders back in. This time, the bruise is mottled with various shades of green and yellow. The bandage is gone from his nose but there’s a deep scabbed over gash across it. He still looks like shit, but better. Sansa is itching to ask him what happened when he comes up to the register and orders a large black coffee.

“Name?” she asks, pen poised over the coffee cup. He blinks back at her like he doesn’t understand her question and she has to refrain from laughing. “Your name. You do have one, don’t you?”

“Uh… my name,” he repeats slowly, but then his eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, it’s – uh, it’s Jon. Sorry,” he adds sheepishly, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck, but the action causes him to wince and he drops it by his side. Interesting, Sansa can’t help but note to herself.

She smiles softly, waves his apology off and writes Jon in her neatest cursive.

It’s really hard to get him out of her head. Sansa even dreams of curly black hair, deep grey eyes and those unfairly tantalising lips. Men who look like him should not have lips like that. It’s really cruel.

Jon is back again on Monday, and this time, his bottom lip is split and there’s ugly red bruising around his left eye. Add all of that with last week’s previous injuries and he looks utterly terrifying. People in the queue, who are normally so tired they can barely muster up the energy to trudge forward, give him a wide berth, like they’re afraid he might suddenly focus his fury on them. But he doesn’t look angry or violent. There’s a softness in his grey eyes and around the curve of his lips when he catches her eye and smiles. It makes Sansa refuse to believe it. She really shouldn’t be so quick to give a stranger the benefit of the doubt, especially not after sweet-talking Joffrey turned out to be such an arrogant, horrible wanker, but something about Jon is different.

When he reaches the register, Sansa gives him a slow once-over, which has him flushing from the neck to the tips of his ears. “How are you, Jon?” she asks, because she doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him he looks like shit in case whatever’s happening is really bad nor does she want to outright ask him in case she’s wrong and he’s the bad thing that’s happening.

Jon looks surprised that she remembers his name and flushes even more. “I’m okay. Um, tired. How are you…” He squints at her nametag, which is a bit mangled from her accidentally throwing it in the washing machine a couple months earlier. “Sorsa?”

Surprising herself, she giggles at his poor attempt. “It’s Sansa. But close. Large black?”

He nods with a small smile.

When Jon shows up the following Monday with even more injuries, Sansa decides she needs to do something subtle because she’s positive he’s not the type of guy to get into bar brawls on the weekends for the hell of it. If he fights someone, there has to be a good, honourable reason for it. But in a distant part of her brain, she can hear her older brother chiding her for being so trusting of a man she barely knows, except Sansa does know him. After last Monday, he came in every day of that week, sometimes in the mornings and sometimes in the afternoons, but he would always spend time just talking to her. He’s courteous and sweet, a little bit awkward and kind of horrible with women, but it’s endearing rather than annoying. There’s no way someone like Jon could ever be the instigator of a fight unless provoked.

Jon returns again the next afternoon sporting his new injury – a slight limp – and Sansa asks Jeyne to cover for her as she grabs him by the forearm and drags him into the staff room. She sits him down and starts speaking without preamble.

“I need to know if I should be worried about you or if I should be worried about me.” When he only blinks back at her dumbly, Sansa sighs in frustration. “Jon, I know you don’t really know me very well but if something bad is happening, I can… I don’t know. I can help you.”

He inclines his head as if to study her, a mixture of bemusement and fondness on his face, and it kind of unsettles Sansa because she doesn’t really know how to handle that. No one’s ever looked at her like that before, not even Joffrey, and it’s hard to process that it’s coming from this virtual stranger.

“You’re worried about me?” Jon questions, but when she answers his question with a scowl, he chuckles softly. “Sorry. I guess I look a bit worrying, don’t I?”

“You could say that,” she deadpans, eyes roving over his injuries pointedly.

Jon laughs. “Okay, so this is going to be really anticlimactic for you but I’m apart of an amateur fighting ring.”


“That was definitely not on my list.”

“What list?” he asks, smiling more broadly now, the amusement even more pronounced in those grey eyes.

Sansa huffs. “I might’ve made a list of all the possible reasons why you could be getting so frequently injured.”

Jon laughs and the sound is bright and warm, which has the effect of making Sansa smile in return in spite of the reddening of her cheeks and her sudden need to run away. She instead opts for a subject change. “So you’re in a fight club?”

“No,” he responds instantly, rolling his eyes slightly. “A fight club is just some asinine way for emotionally repressed guys to get their rocks off.”

Sansa can’t help the smirk unfurling on her lips because this is clearly a sore subject for him. “Okay, so what’s the difference?”

“I’m sponsored by a bar and I fight on the weekends for some extra cash,” Jon answers her. “It’s – yeah, it’s not ideal and you’re not the first person to come to me about it, but my mum died when I was seventeen and I needed the money.”

“Wait, you’ve been doing this since you were seventeen? Is that – that doesn’t sound legal, Jon!”

He shrugs as nonchalantly as he can. “So maybe I fibbed a bit about my age. I’m twenty-two now and I’ve only got a semester left of my degree so it’ll be over soon.”

She frowns slightly and reaches over to touch his hand. “That’s terrible. This shouldn’t be something you have to do just to afford university.”

“It’s okay, Sansa,” Jon says, curling his hand over hers. “I’m pretty good.” He cracks a half-smile. “You should see the other guys.”

She’s about to tell him off for the really poor joke when Jeyne pokes her head through the door. “Hate to break up the socially inept flirting you two do but Sans, I need you back out there. I’m dying.”

Both Sansa and Jon flush from head to toe. He’s the first to reach the door after Jeyne disappears and Sansa is right behind him. But before she can slip through, Jon puts his hand out to block her in. “Um, you should – if you want that is, come see me this weekend?”

Sansa scrunches up her nose in distaste. “I don’t know if I want to see you get beaten up, Jon.”

His face falls for a moment and he removes his hand from the door frame. “Yeah, of course. That’s… That’s normal.” He gives her a faint smile and leaves her standing there for a few more seconds before she’s racing up to catch up to him.

“But I’ll go,” she quickly assures him. “Only the once, okay? I need to make sure you’re telling the truth after all.”

Jon beams back at her and she considers going to every single match he has just to make him this happy – which she realises is an absurd thing to want for a man she hardly knows.

“Great. I’ll text you the details!”

And that’s how Jeyne and her find themselves standing in a smelly gym with loud, intimidating looking men and women, who are shouting and laughing boisterously. The stench of alcohol is everywhere and Sansa links her arm through Jeyne’s just to feel safer. “This is a bad idea,” she whispers. “This is a really bad idea. I don’t even know him.”

She can’t really see her as her eyes are focused on the people around them but she hears the exasperation in Jeyne’s voice and she can guess that her best friend is rolling her eyes. “Uhuh, but pining after him and worrying about him is also a really bad idea.”

“I wasn’t –”

“Yeah, okay, Sans,” Jeyne chuckles a bit sardonically. “You two were practically just making heart eyes at each other over the counter for three weeks straight. Please don’t insult my above average intelligence.”

Sansa snorts and bumps her hip against Jeyne’s. “Your ego is unbecoming.”

“Piss off.”

The familiar bickering allows Sansa to forget for awhile where she is and why she’s actually here, but abruptly, a tinny voice cuts across the conversation, announcing the match will start in ten minutes. Sansa grips Jeyne even tighter as they near the front, staring at the weird metallic cage built around the boxing ring.

“Uh, that’s not normal, is it?”

“I thought you said he was a boxer.”

“He said he was a fighter but… cage fighting?”

A burly man beside her whose copper hair could give hers a run for its money laughs loudly. “It’s MMA fighting, ladies.”

“What is that?” Jeyne says with a mixture of apprehension and annoyance.

“Mixed martial arts,” he answers, still smiling in amusement, but then his smile changes and she thinks he’s trying to look charming. “So if you don’t know what this is, what are two lovely girls such as yourselves doing here?”

“Hey mate, back off,” Jeyne says with a scowl. “I’m taken.” She isn’t. “And this one here’s future baby daddy is one of those MMA fighters.”

The man stares squarely at Sansa with such focus it really begins to unnerve her, but then just like before, he bursts out into a booming laugh. “Does that mean you’re Jon’s little coffee shop girl?”

“I wouldn’t call myself little,” she says, bristling; although she realises a little belatedly that she doesn’t correct the man on his mistake that she’s somehow involved with Jon.

“My apologies,” he says, but he doesn’t sound apologetic at all. “I’m Tormund,” he continues, thrusting out a hand for her to shake, which she does with some wariness. “I’m his trainer. That prick hasn’t stopped talking about you for weeks now. Bloody pathetic, honestly, but I can see why.”

“Oh my god, right?” Jeyne exclaims, suddenly forgetting her previous irritation with this man. “She’s been the same way! You’re lucky though. You haven’t had to watch them flirt. It’s like watching a cat trying to swim.”

Tormund laughs again but her glare cuts him off quite quickly.

“Both of you shut it or I swear –”

Her threat is rudely interrupted when the tinny voice returns, announcing the arrival of the two contenders. There’s a sudden increase in jeers and shouts. It’s a lot to take in, and a part of her wonders what on earth she’s doing here. Sansa is a good girl. She works at a coffee shop so her parents don’t have to pay for her accommodation and living costs. She’s in her final year of Primary Education because she adores children. Her last two boyfriends were straight-laced boys from well-to-do families. She doesn’t do things like this.

But a small voice reminds her that both her exes also cheated on her so maybe straight-laced and well-to-do shouldn’t be categories she bases her next boyfriend on. Maybe a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, who fights in a cage to put himself through school, is exactly what she should be looking for.

Pushing down the nerves fluttering in her stomach, Sansa cranes her neck to watch as Jon is escorted into the ring. His upper torso is bare and it makes her mouth go dry. She’s only ever seen him in hoodies. She knew he must have had a nice body considering how well his broad shoulders strained against his clothes, but to see it on display in front of her is quite frankly exhilarating in a way she’d never tell Jeyne about.

“Is your boy going to win?” Jeyne asks Tormund with a sceptical raise of her brow, voicing the question that’s been bouncing around in Sansa’s head all week. “Because that other dude looks like he could lift a car without breaking a sweat.”

She turns her head to catch sight of Jon’s opponent and her mouth gapes at the sheer size of him. Oh god, he’s going to die, she instantly thinks, and a sudden wave of panic and nausea sweeps through her body.

“Don’t be so quick to judge. He may look big but they are in the same weight class for a reason,” Tormund answers, smirking. This is basically gibberish to her because she doesn’t know what a weight class is, but when he adds, “Jon’s got moves,” Sansa is determined to believe him.

Twenty minutes into the fight and Jon’s moves have gotten him knocked square in the face and another one in the stomach. He’s bleeding from his forehead, but his eyes are focused. It’s surreal to see this side of him. She may have only known him for a couple of weeks, but the Jon she met is sweet, shy and endearingly awkward. This Jon is anything but awkward. His movements are precise, lithe and calculated. Where the other man has size and power, Jon has speed and brains. He doesn’t just aim his punches anywhere. He knows exactly where he wants to hit, delivers it at the most opportune moment and capitalises quickly at the moment of contact. It’s the most riveting thing Sansa’s ever watched – and she’s been to the West End multiple times.

“Your husband is amazing,” her friend whispers, awe in her voice.

Sansa rolls her eyes, even though there’s a small proud smile on her lips. “He’s not my husband. But yeah, yeah he’s great.”

Jeyne snorts, and thankfully, doesn’t say anything else, leaving her to watch the fight without interruption.

They’re nearing the end of the last round, which, Tormund explains, means that the judges will decide on the winner. She doesn’t know how that works either because how can anyone tell who’s winning at this point? They both seem fairly matched; although Sansa completely thinks Jon is the better fighter. He’s graceful and makes it look like a real sport, whereas the other man makes it look like a bar brawl.

Suddenly, Jon spins and delivers a kick to the man’s head, knocking him backwards onto the ground, where he swiftly begins to drive forward with punch after punch. The referee finally has to pull Jon away from the man, and then everyone’s screaming and trying to push forward.

“Wait, what just happened!” Sansa yells to Tormund, who is one of those people trying to get forward.

He looks back at Sansa, eyes taking her in as if for the first time and then his hand is around her wrist, pulling her with him. “Your boyfriend just won, Coffee Shop Girl. You should go say hi.”

Sansa doesn’t get a chance to protest or even process what’s happening until Tormund is shouting to someone and she’s being dragged up onto the stage. Jon is getting cleaned up, but when he catches sight of her, he instantly jumps to his feet and sways rather violently from the sudden movement. Sansa races forward to catch him.

“Don’t move,” she chides, frowning at his goofy grin. “Are you concussed? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jon steps back from her grasps with that strange smile still on his face. “You actually came.”

“I told you I would,” she says, rolling her eyes, but her heart is beating a mile a minute. She doesn’t even know how someone could have this much of an effect on her. “Seriously, Jon, are you okay?”

“And you’re worried about me,” he continues on, his smile growing wider and wider.

“Of course I’m worried! I saw you get punched in the head!” she half-shouts at him because now she’s a little frustrated and he’s being really, really irritating.

That wipes the smile instantly from his face as his hands go to her shoulders. “Sansa, I am fine, you know? This isn’t really the worst that’s ever happened to me in the ring. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs. “You don’t look okay.” She gestures to his forehead where the blood’s dried.

The smile he offers her now is more hesitant and shy and it reminds her of the Jon she knows from the coffee shop. “I’m sorry. I’m just really glad you came. I know you didn’t want to and this is probably not your scene but… it means a lot to me.”

“It’s not,” Sansa agrees, smiling. “But you were amazing tonight.”

“Thanks,” he says, cheeks flushed.

“But Jon?” she presses on, swallowing the fear lodged inside her throat. “This is the last time I’m coming to one of these.” His face falls and she can’t help laughing softly. “Next time, just ask me out on a normal date, okay? Less bloody.”

The relief on his face makes her heart swell with so much warmth and affection for this man.

“Okay, next time, a normal date. I promise.”

Sansa’s cheeks are aching from smiling so much, but she doesn’t care. This, right here with Jon, is perfect. Even with the crowd still screaming behind them; even with Jon bloodied and bruised and sweaty. Nothing matters but the fact that Jon is the first man to ever make her feel like she’s the only thing of actual importance in his world. It might not be true, but it feels true.

“What?” Jon asks, chuckling. “You’re the one staring at me this time.”

Instead of answering, Sansa throws her arms around his neck and presses her lips firmly against his. He easily reciprocates by matching her movements and sliding his hands around her waist, gripping tight to her hips. When she scrapes her teeth against his lower lip, she feels him groan into her mouth, tugging her tightly until every part of her body is pressed into his. Sansa doesn’t quite know how long they stand there, but they both instantly jump apart as someone clears their throat pointedly at them.

“As happy as I am that you two figured things out,” Jeyne begins. “Your husband’s trainer keeps hitting on me and if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to kill him and I don’t think Jon would want that.”

He stares at her best friend for a long moment. “Husband?”

“Ugh,” Sansa groans. “Don’t encourage her.”

lizardcool17  asked:

Drag AU. It's Sara's birthday and as a present Mickey allows Sara to do what ever she wants. So with this opportunity Sara decides to get a little revenge on her brother by giving him a full drag make over and then go clubbing with him. Mickey tolerates Sara's demands because he wants to make his sister happy but while at the club he runs into Emil.

I know I’m still on vacation and my tabtop (tablet laptop) is not the easiest to type on, but I had to answer this ask.

Also, I changed it from their birthday to a lost bet. Mostly because I imagine they’d want to celebrate with all of their friends for their birthday~

“Absolutely not.” Michele crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at his twin sister. 

“Fair is fair, Mickey,” she sang, lacing her fingers and grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I won, so you have to do anything I say.”

She was right, of course. But Michele didn’t want to admit it. He was so certain he would be victorious, that he didn’t stop to consider what would happen if he actually lost.

And here he was.

Now Sara wouldn’t have to wait until she was thirty to start dating - his terms - and he had to do whatever she wanted.

Just great.

“I won’t do it,” he insisted, eyeing the skirt she held in her hand.

“Oh, Mickey. It’ll be just like when we were little and we used to play dress-up in our-”

“You promised to take that to your grave,” he hissed, glancing from side to side as if someone could somehow overhear them through the thick walls of their shared apartment.

“Okay, I won’t mention the gowns,” she began, “Or the necklaces, or the heels-”

“Sara,” he warned.

“Or the tea parties,” she added quickly with a smile. “You know, Mickey. It’s completely acceptable for a man to like those things.”

“Of course it is,” he groaned through clenched teeth. “But I don’t need it getting around to the other skaters, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” she swore and then held the skirt up again. “So, makeover first and then,” she paused with a wicked little grin, “we’re heading to the club.”


Michele was aware of every pair of eyes on him as he stepped into the club behind his sister. He was already a good head taller than her as it was, but with the heels on, he felt like a human tower.

As he walked, he suddenly wished he hadn’t scoffed at the tights she’d offered him and actually accepted. His legs were still smooth from his last wax, but he felt so exposed with the skirt, which now felt ten times shorter than it had at home.

“C’mon, Mickey,” she called, waving him closer and heading toward the bar. He followed behind her, wishing desperately that they’d decided on an alias for him, just for the night. “Two of the special, please,” she ordered.

“Sure thing, ladies,” the bartender replied and turned his back to fix their drinks.

“Sara,” Michele whispered, moving closer to her and clutching her arm, the gazes of the other club-goers finally getting to him. “I want to go home.”

“No way, Mickey.” She pouted up at him. “We just got here.” Then she added, “And we agreed it would be a full night out.” 

Michele groaned and leaned against the bar. “How many hours is that?”

The bartender brought their drinks over and set them down. Sara thanked him and grabbed her glass. bringing her straw to her lips. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He sighed and picked up his own drink, brushing away some of the stray hairs from the wig he wore, which had stuck to the obscene amount of gloss his sister had slathered onto his lips.

“Excuse me, miss,” someone drawled from beside them. “Would you care to dance?”

Michele’s blood began to boil. How dare someone proposition his sister right in front of him?! He opened his mouth, but remembered himself, speaking in a slightly higher pitch than normal.

“She’s not interested,” he spat, eyes blazing.

“Oh, well,” the man floundered, his cheeks pink. “Well, I, um, I actually meant-”

“Did I not say it clearly enough?” Michele stood up to his full height, even taller with the heels on. “Not. Interested.”

“Right, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, then.” And then he backed away, disappearing into the throng of people on the dance floor.


“Like I’d let that lowlife dance with you.” He sneered. “What a-”

Mickey,” she said again, louder this time. “He wasn’t asking me to dance.”

He furrowed his brow, blinking in confusion. “Of course he was.”

“No.” She barely hid a smile as she rolled her eyes fondly. “He was asking you.”

“He was not,” he began, but Sara shook her head and gestured toward a group of men who were looking their way, but quickly busied themselves when pointed out. “He…was?”

“You’re quite popular, it seems,” Sara said, puffing out her chest proudly. “I’d say it’s my flawless makeup technique, but I think it has something to do with those legs of yours,” she teased.

Michele unconsciously tugged his skirt down. It felt even shorter than ever.

“Anyway, I’m going to slip into the bathroom to powder my nose,” Sara said. “But at least I don’t have to worry about protecting my big brother.” She grinned. “I think you can handle yourself for a few minutes.” And then she, too, was gone.

Michele fiddled with his straw, bringing it to his lips and chewing on the end as he waited for her to return. He knew he could send the next guy packing, no problem, but he really didn’t feel like talking to anyone else.

Maybe when Sara got back, he could talk her into dancing just the two of them and then, after a suitable amount of time had passed, they could leave.

He was deep in thought when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, miss, but I think you dropped your-” But the man froze, his deep blue eyes going wide. “Mickey?”

Michele swallowed, icy panic settling in his stomach. He licked his lips nervously before stuttering a quick, “Emil?!”

Ah ha ha. Well, Emil was in this for about two seconds, but…
I got excited about Mickey in a short skirt and heels. The world needs more of that.

Thanks for the lovely prompt and sorry it took me so long to respond!! 


anonymous asked:

little burr finally runs the fuck away and is happy

EDIT- im just going to go ahead and credit @hubris-but-no-writing for this AU. She’s the one who’s done the original concept development (and has a fic in the works for this AU that yall should definitely be on the lookout for if you like this) I haven’t credited in the past because my previous writings were all additions to posts (wherein its implicitly clear I’m not the originator of the ideas). The plot of this specific story line is a collaborative effort between @badromantics, @narwq and myself

“Look, I’m sorry okay?” Alexander looked miserable. His eyes were beyond red. He hadn’t slept in days, and it showed. Aaron was not moved in the slightest. He crossed his arms, looking resolutely away. 

“Please, can you just say something?” Alexander was despondent. Aaron had heard those exact words, and many variations thereof, dozens of times in the past month. None had ever induced him to comply, but none had ever sounded quite so miserable. 

Aaron turned. The action made his sore leg flare up, and gave him a good look of the dollhouse he had nearly succeeded in escaping. It had been a lot less secure than the furnished aquarium Aaron had been returned to. “What do you want me to say?”

The resulting silence stretched. It felt strange, shutting Alexander up. It wasn’t that he was never quiet, but that he never accepted being quieted by another. “I just want you to understand I never meant to…” 

“Never meant to trap me against my will, forever?” Aaron snapped, frustrated and beyond fed up. Alexander made a pitiful strangled noise in the back of his throat.  “No, you don’t get to feel bad. What else could your end game possibly be, here!?” Aaron faced Alexander fully, staring him down in challenge. Even despite the immense size difference between them, Alexander wilted under it. 

“Look, I don’t have an endgame, alright!? I never did! I just saw you and you were so amazing and tiny and I just didn’t want you to disappear, okay?”

Aaron bristled. “And what about now? It’s been a long time since then.”

Alexander raked at his head again, a nervous gesture that just pulled more strands loose from his hair tie. “I don’t know, okay!? I don’t want to keep you trapped, but if, when, I let you go, you’re going to disappear and I’ll never see you again.” 

Despite the situation, Aaron’s heart clenched. But now wasn’t the time, and Alexander did not deserve empathy. “Before, I used to be curious about you big people.” 

Alexander’s eyes snapped from avoiding Aaron to a sharp focus. “Really?” His words were thick. 

“I used to be,” Aaron nodded. “But now, I think I’ve learned all I ever need to about big people.” Aaron watched with a blank face as Alexander was reduced to tears. 

“I deserve this.” Alexander spoke more to himself than to Aaron. “But I can’t just go back.” He was clearly anguished, and for the first time Aaron considered that Alexander might actually regret this. 

Taking a chance, Aaron cleared his throat, drawing Alexander’s attention again. “You can’t go back.” He confirmed. “But, you don’t have to keep doing this.” 

Alexander froze, and Aaron held his breath. The moment stretched, the tension almost physically solid between them. 

“…You’re right,” Alexander’s words were quiet, frail, weak. “I don’t.” His tear streaks grew, fresh tears reflecting the sun from the kitchen window. 

Aaron did not respond, waiting for Alexander to catch up with himself. He had no idea if this was going to work. Aaron had tried playing this card a few times before, to no avail. But Alexander had never been as cornered by his actions as he was now. 

“There’s no chance of me ever seeing you again, is there?” Alexander released a long, very unsteady sigh. His voice hitched. 

“That would be for me to decide.” Aaron responded. ‘Not a chance in hell if I can help it’ was clear enough heard by the both of them. 

Slowly, agonizingly slowly Alexander reached for the aquarium. Aaron stayed statue still as the lid was slowly removed and the ramp lowered. Aaron watched, still purposefully not moving, as Alexander slowly stepped back. 

“I’m… going to go out for a drink now.” Aaron’s eyes widened. “And… I won’t be back until late.” Alexander stepped back again, now at the kitchen entrance way. “I’m sorry,” Alexander nodded once, hardening his mouth in a firm line. Then he left.

Aaron listened to the rasp of a jacket being put on, and the thumping of shoes. He waited for the sound of the front door opening and closing. Finally, Aaron turned to the ramp, leading up into open air, over a counter that was completely unguarded. 

It had been so long since Aaron had seen such a sight. There were no walls, no bars, nothing holding him in place. Aaron took a cursory glance of his surroundings, needing to confirm again that no, there were no traps to this, and Alexander was really gone. He had finally let Aaron go.

Placing one foot in front of the other, Aaron took his first free steps in over a month.

“But what if He Who Must Not Be Named finds out about us?”

“Voldemort is not going to find out.”

“You don’t know him Harry, he has spies everywhere.”

“Draco, he’s not going to find out. Even if he does, it won’t matter, I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”


“My thanks to you, Lucius, for bringing this… disgusting union to my attention.” Voldemort boomed, the Death Eaters around him hissing, laughing, and catcalling at the teen being held down on his knees at Voldemort’s feet. Next to Voldemort, being held in place by a death grip on the back of his throat, was a deathly pale blonde teen.

“Now, how shall we punish our dear young Malfoy?” Voldemort said, looking around at his Death Eaters as they called out horrible ideas and requests. But the look in the man’s eyes said he already had a sickening idea.

“Ah, perfect. Draco,” Voldemort turned to look at the teen next to him, while Draco continued to stare blankly at Harry. Harry’s head snapped up to lock eyes with Draco. “Draco, I want you to torture Mister Potter here. Seems a fitting punishment, don’t you think?”


Voldemort’s eyes flashed at Draco’s immediate response, but his lips curled into a sickening grin as he pointed his wand at Draco, “Crucio.”

Draco’s blood curdling scream tore through Harry as the blond fell to the ground and curled into himself, writhing in pain as he screamed until Voldemort lifted the curse. “Torture him.”

Draco lifted his head, his eyes soaked in painful tears. He looked at Harry, who had tear tracks running down his face as well, Harry silently mouthed, It’s okay. Lucius, the one holding Harry down in his kneeling position, had turned his head away.


“I wasn’t asking, Draco.” Voldemort responded softly, too calmly, pointing his wand once again at Draco. “Imperio.”

Draco’s body went rigid at first, as he tried to fight off Voldemort’s control. It was only a few moments, and then Draco’s body relaxed, his eyes glazed over, and he stood. Voldemort looked positively gleeful as he handed the boy his wand, and Draco slowly pointed it at Harry.

“I love you Draco.” Harry said softly, looking up at his boyfriend.


Harry’s head fell back as his spine arched and he screamed, eyes welling up with more tears. Tears for his pain, and tears for Draco. Lucius stepped away and let the boy fall to the ground. The spell only lasted for a moment, and Harry slowly got to his feet.

“Ah, it seems even my hate of you being channeled through Draco isn’t enough to make the spell have that much of an effect through the wand that your lover holds,” Voldemort laughed coldly, “At least as you die, you’ll know that he loved you. Now what was that spell that Severus told me about… Ah yes.”

“Sectumsempra!” Draco called out, and Harry was thrown off his feet, deep gashes opening up all over his torso and his blood spilling out onto the floor. Draco’s face remained completely passive, but tears began to form in the corner of his eyes.

“Much better Draco! Again.”

I love you Draco.

“Sectumsempra!” Draco’s voice shook as he called out the spell again, and Harry screamed out again and again, more deep gashes forming on his body as he rapidly lost blood. Draco’s tears spilled over down his cheeks, but Voldemort’s spell kept him in place.

Voldemort is not going to find out.


Harry’s voice broke as he screamed again, all the cuts all over his body making the Crucio spell feel ten times worse, even if it wasn’t as powerful.

I’m not going to let him hurt you.


It’s not me I’m worried about.

Harry’s screams were reduced to silent sobbing as his body rapidly paled, losing blood faster with every Crucio that Draco was forced to cast. Draco’s arm shook and he was openly crying now, tears streaming down his blank face.

“Just one more spell, Draco.” Voldemort said gleefully, his voice the only thing Harry or Draco could hear through the roar of physical and emotional pain.

“NO!!” Draco roared, finally breaking Voldemort’s hold and whipping around, punching Voldemort square in the jaw and catching him off guard before pointing his wand at the man, pure rage coursing through his veins, “Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! CRUCIO!!”

Voldemort hissed in rage and pain, Death Eater’s flying out in black smoke left and right, none of them wanting to get caught in the crossfire as Draco cast Cruciatus after Cruciatus after Cruciatus, some of them hitting Voldemort and others exploding the walls around him. Some Death Eater’s tried to stop him, but Draco’s rage exploded in accidental magic that created a shield around him, and they too disappeared.

Draco finally stopped casting his spells and while Voldemort was stunned, he all but flew to Harry’s side, and had barely held the limp and bleeding boy to him before he apparated away.

They both landed with a thud just outside the wards of Hogwarts, Harry coughed up blood before falling still and Draco lifted his wand, desperately trying to think of every happy memory with Harry that he had.

The day that they admitted to themselves that they loved each other. Then the day that they admitted it to each other. The lazy broomstick rides around the castle that they promised each other wouldn’t be a race, but always wound up becoming so. The first day that Harry told his friends about Draco and tightly held his hand as Weasley exploded. Their first Christmas together. Draco’s official Weasley sweater.

Draco cried out and a bright white eagle burst from his wand and flew toward the castle. His hoarse cry rang throughout the castle as Draco fell to his knees at Harry’s side. Harry had not moved since they landed there.

He was so pale. He’d lost so much blood.

Draco collected Harry against his body and continued to scream in rage and sorrow that were tearing their way throughout his body. Harry still wouldn’t move.

“Harry! Harry! Wake up Harry!”

“Draco…” Harry whispered, through his eyes didn’t open, “It’s okay.”

Draco’s sobs turned into a historical laugh as he pulled Harry closer. He could feel Harry’s body growing colder against him and he could feel Harry’s labored breathing against his chest.

“You’re going to make it, right Harry?” Draco said, his voice growing higher in his hysteria, “You’re always okay in the end. You’re the Boy Who Lived.”

“Draco…” Harry’s voice was growing fainter, “Just… Just hold me… Okay…?”

“No no nononono,” Draco held Harry tighter to him, feeling Harry’s breaths growing fainter and fainter, and the labored heartbeat slowly fading away as he sobbed and screamed himself hoarse.

The last thing Draco saw before he passed out from shock and stress with a cold bleeding Harry in his arms, was a cat with glasses shaped markings around it’s eyes streaking towards him.


A/N: Hey guys! I know it’s been awhile since I posted anything, school and work has been crazy! So, anyways, here is some supper angsty Drarry to brighten your day!

Any questions or complaints can be left with @otpdisaster, as I got the prompts that inspired this story from their blog. :D

anonymous asked:

for the prompts thing, could u do number 2 for boyf riends? thank you!


(also i wrote this whole thing in my asks, then tumblr wouldn’t let me post and then it deleted off my clipboard when i copied it so… i think it was better before, but ehhhh, here’s what i remember)

“Did you seriously burn all your ‘uncool’ clothes?” Michael laughed, flicking through hangers.

“Well, not burn them,” Jeremy responded, grimacing at the price tag on a shirt. “But I threw them out, yeah.”

“You didn’t even give them to like Salvation Army or something?” Michael chortled.

“That wasn’t ‘chill enough’,” Jeremy replied, forcing a smile. His eyes fell on a shirt that looked very similar to his old favourite; multicoloured stripes with a ringer neck. He pulled it out, showing Michael. “What do you think of this one?”

Michael grinned. “Definitely. Very you.”

These words, meant as a compliment, shot fear down Jeremy’s spine, reminiscent of the shocks he’d received from the Squip.

“How ‘bout this one?” Michael asked, holding up a Pokemon tee. “Jer?”

Jeremy barely heard him, his eyes transfixed on the shirt in his own hands, his palms growing sweaty. Was he imagining it, or could he truly hear that smooth voice in the back of his head…?

“Dude,” Michael said, going around to Jeremy’s side of the rack and touching his arm.

Jeremy’s eyes flashed up, and his words came out in a nervous staccato. “Uh, we s-should just go, I don’t really need new clothes…”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Michael said, holding his friend’s shoulders steadily. “It can’t hurt you anymore, right?”

Jeremy took a deep breath and nodded. “Sorry,” he muttered, but Michael waved him off. To ameliorate the awkward situation, Jeremy punched his friend lightly on the shoulder. Michael grinned, and they kept looking.

After twenty minutes, they left the store, Jeremy clutching a small bag of t-shirts. He stopped walking for a second, biting his lip.

“Hey, Michael… I’m really sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Michael shrugged nonchalantly.

“No, seriously,” Jeremy said. For a moment, his inhibitions disappeared, and he reached out to squeeze Michael’s hand. “Thank you.”

Michael blushed, grinning, and made to remove his hand from his friend’’s, but Jeremy entwined their fingers stubbornly.

“I couldn’t have gotten through this without you,” Jeremy smiled.

“Aw, now don’t get sappy on me,” Michael said, grinning shyly. Jeremy smiled back. “C’mon, let’s go to Spencers. I’ve got a hookup for Strawberry Pepsi.”

“Sounds disgusting,” Jeremy laughed. “Let’s go.”

They left for Michael’s backroom soda deal, both conveniently forgetting to release the other’s hand.

Friendly Neighborhood Bucky

Summary: You and Bucky are neighbors, speaking only to say hi to each other. But when a spider appears in your bathtub, Bucky comes to your rescue.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: ~1800

Warnings: Language, & a spider (but Bucky comes to your rescue).

Based off of a list of prompts/au’s: “this is totally awkward considering before this the only interactions we’ve ever had have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there’s a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbor type please help me” au

A/N: I’m really stuck on my new series so here’s this random one-shot to have something new out there. Hope you enjoy :) Also, sorry the formatting is a little messed up?? I can’t get it to work no matter what I do. It’s correct in the document but not after posting. 

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

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One Last Time (Tom Holland)

Originally posted by protectbuckybarnesatallcosts

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader, Cole Sprouse x Reader

Warning: Cursing, sexual content

Summary: The sequel to “I Don’t Wanna Be Your Man”. Y/n and Tom meet once again at an after party, catch up and sneak off together even though Tom has a girlfriend. In the morning, Y/n awakes to an empty bed and calls Tom in hopes that he wants to get back together as well.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is based upon “One Last Time” by Ariana Grande, as requested by an anon who said, “i would like to request an imagine? i read i dont wanna be your man anymore and absolutely loved it i was thinking if you could continue it? where tom and y/n meet at an afterparty and tom is dating someone else and tom and y/n catch up and y/n and tom go back to her apartment to talk and y/n wants to be with him one last time and they do it and the morning tom is gone and y/n calls him and gets mad that he just left then tom says “you wanted only one last time” and she gets hurt? Tq”

Masterlist Request a Prompt

“Tom.” You said his name breathlessly as you watched the young man move across the room.

It had been months since you had last saw him in person. The only times you saw him were on movie screens and social media posts. From what you had saw, you knew he had moved on from you and got a girlfriend while you were in an on and off relationship with Cole.

You and Cole were still on at that moment, during that party.

But, you didn’t feel like you and Cole were together. Yes, at the moment you saw Tom, Cole’s arm was around you, but you didn’t feel like you were really there. You felt as if Tom still had your heart because when you had seen him, he had taken your breath away.

“You okay, baby?” Cole asked, his lips against your temple as he kissed it softly.

You pulled away and looked into Cole’s eyes. “Yes. I’m just fine.”

“Are you sure? We could leave if you want to.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I want to stay.”

“But you hate parties.” Cole stated, putting a hand on your forehead. “Are you sick or feeling sick?”

You chuckled and took his hand off to your face. “No, I’m not sick.”

You looked behind your back only for your eyes to meet Tom’s. You gave him a small smile, to which he responded with a wave and you turned away.

“I’m going to go talk to some friends. Why don’t you do the same?” You told Cole before you turned on your heel and walked towards Tom.

Tom stood alone, his girlfriend was off somewhere talking with other people, he wasn’t quite sure. He saw you move across the room and watched as the eyes of others followed you to him.

“Y/N.” The way Tom said your name made your chest ache.

“Hello, Tom.” You said cooly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” He replied and placed his drink aside.

“I’m fine.” You smiled. “Listen, I was thinking maybe we could hang out sometime, catch up?”

Tom nodded, tried to refrain from letting his lips curl into a smile and allowed them to do as they pleased.

“Would you want to talk now?” He asked. “Lucy is elsewhere and I don’t think she’d mind if I talked to my own friends.”

You nodded. “That would be great. There’s a place to sit around the corner if you’d like to go there.”

“I’d love that. I am tired of standing around.”

Tom followed you around the corner. The room you had entered was barely full, only small groups of people scattered around the outer walls unlike the room you had exited, with its people packed like sardines.

“So, how have you been?” Tom asked as you both took a seat.

“Okay, I guess.” You replied and looked down at your hands. “Actually, I’m not that great. Cole and I are on and off, my sister dropped out of college and I just haven’t been sleeping well or doing well professionally. What about you?”

“To be quite honest, I’m doing alright. I’m landing bigger roles, I have an amazing girlfriend and things have been gradually better, but-” Tom paused for a second. “But it’s hard to see you with someone else, even if I made you leave.”

You raised a brow. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do, Y/n. It’s hard to see someone you once loved with someone else, no matter what happened between you two.” Tom explained. “Anyway, I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I wanted to get it off my chest if we’re going to try to be friends.”

“I’m going to be honest, I feel the same way. I fucked up when I left you, Tom and I’m sorry I hurt you. I was being a goddamn idiot and I really regret it.” You confessed. “But I can’t change it and I wish I could.”

“Thank you, Y/n, for apologizing.” Tom gave you a small smile and put his hand on yours. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that and I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for kicking you out so fast and not being an adult about it.”

“No, Tom, don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong and there was nothing you could’ve done to change my mistakes or my mind. I was being a stubborn bitch and I hurt you.”

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

“I’d like that.” You bit your lip. “My place is down the street.”

“Great.” Tom stated before he leaned in and kissed you, his lips tasting just as you had remembered them.

The world seemed to disappear and reality was nonexistent as you and Tom stumbled into your apartment. It was just you and him, the tangled sheets and clothes strewn, just how you thought it should always be. But as his lips connected with the skin on your breast and passion consumed you, all you had to say was whispered in the dark.

“I just want this one last time.”

You had awoke the next morning to an empty bed, the ghost of Tom haunted the side of the bed you had last saw him on. You didn’t remember him leaving in the middle of the night and as you reached across the bed to his side, you said his name to be met with silence. You took your phone off your bedside table and dialed Tom’s number.

“Hello?” His voice was soft on the other end of the line.

“Tom, where’d you go?”

“I left. I went home.”


“Because Lucy was waiting for me at home. I wanted to sleep beside her like I do every night.” He said in a matter of fact tone.

“But why would you go there when you could’ve stayed here with me? We could’ve gotten breakfast.” You said, the hurt in your voice shone through. “We could’ve tried this again.”

“No, we couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“You said you wanted one last time, Y/n.” He replied, shattering your heart like China, just as you had done to him so long before.

Meant to Be

“Yo can you pleeease do a sequel to Stay High? Pairings and whatnot don’t really matter to me, I just want to read more of the story bc it’s really good.“
“C-Can I have part two of Stay High… it was really good and i loved it… -Peggs”

GUUUUUYYSSSS!!! I’m so glad you guys really liked Stay High!! I spent a lot of time on it and I was really proud of it so I’m glad you guys enjoyed it too! Thank you so much for your kind words!!

Send me a prompt + person from this post!
Masterlist Askbox

Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol use, Mentions of self harm, Swearing
Word Count: 2,964
Pairings: Angelica Schuyler X Reader

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housecatcorner  asked:

Omg I am in love with your Asscreed prompts. Here's one for you: How would the Assassins react when they find out they're s/o is a Templar?

Originally posted by scarecroe


So… I was writing my response to this last night, annnnnd right as I was going to post it… my computer crashed. So I lost the whole thing and decided to write it again today. So sorry for the delay! /:



Altair: You’d decided to confess to Altair after months of being together. You expected rage and disdain, but when you witnessed neither, you were at a loss for words. His face stayed perfectly stony and stoic, as per usual, much to your confusion. He reached into his robes, pulling out a blade… your blade; engraved with the insignia of the Templar order. “I know.” His voice was steady yet firm. He held the blades hilt towards you, cocking his head to the nearest door, signalling your exit. “I… will not kill you today… but, some day.” His voice seemed strangled but his eyes never left yours. “This, I promise.” You hesitantly grabbed the blade and took your leave; your day of death being your next meeting… He never kept his promise.

Ezio: When you had told him of your Templar status, his disappointment was palpable, but his composure stayed in tact, though the look he gave you did no justice in hiding his sorrow. In a moment of sentiment, he kissed you, pulling you in for a night of passion, regret, and apology; every touch radiated pure emotion like he’d never shown before. You woke the next day in your bed… alone. You did, however, notice a single note; a final, written ‘goodbye’. Ezio always knew where you were, whether or not you noticed.

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His Highness and I (Rap Monster, You) Scenario

Prompt: aisle

Since aisle’s are one of the symbols of marriage…I decided to write one we’re Namjoon is your husband. <3

With a twist tho. Haha!

A flurry of ball gowns, bright flashes of cameras and an onslaught of cheers and catcalls from the people…

Who would’ve known my wedding would be aired on national television? Let alone the cover story for several magazines, headlines of newspapers around the globe, and the top story raging the world wide web:

Headline: Crown Prince Namjoon marries Lady Y/N, the crown princess of Westleton.

We have a New Princess! An inside look on the Cinderella Story of the Century!

A Fairytale Come True! The Happily Ever After of Prince Namjoon and Lady Y/N.

After walking down the aisle on the warm spring day, a crowd awaited us outside the church, cheers and congratulations being thrown our way. And as I left the church with Namjoon in my arm, the crown Prince of Westleton, I literally felt like a princess from a fairytale book.

But the books never really told what happened after Cinderella married the prince or what happened after the so-called “Happily Ever After”.

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Train Puns & Electrical Wires

Stiles Stilinski imagine

Originally posted by ochocolate

Summary: You have been taken by the ghost riders, and now it seems you are the only one who seems to be aware of what was going on. Well, the only one besides that one cute boy, that is.

A/N: I have been trying to do a prompt challenge but OMG HOW HARD IS THAT? I feel like I am never content of what I’m writing, but if I didn’t post this now, it probably never got posted.

Prompts: “You just don’t appreciate my delightful sense of humor.” - “I’m cute and I deserve to be worshipped.” - “That’s the best part.”


You were looking at the door he had disappeared through some time ago, wondering how long it had been.

Looking at your immediate left, a middle aged woman was staring in front of her, staring at nothing in particular.

Looking at your immediate right, an old man was doing exactly the same.

You look back at the door, but nothing had changed since the last time you had been staring at it. How long had he been in there? What was he doing? He clearly wasn’t like the rest of them.

You stared at the girl opposite of you, who was strangely enough doing the same. She didn’t hide the fact she was staring at you as if you weren’t supposed to sit there. You observed the girl, who was just a teenager. You took in her strawberry blonde hair that was waving in the wind, her blue and pink striped shirt, her —. Wait, there wasn’t any wind here?

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Toy (Part One)

Pairing: ReaderXJax (Sons of Anarchy)

Prompt: Your MC has recruited you to become the undercover old lady of the president of a Nevada based MC which is believed to be backstabbing your MC in a drug trade business. After your first night with the president, you return to your own MC and bump into Jax Teller and several members of SAMCRO. The connection is immediate. 

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a mini-series and also this was a really sucky prompt to explain what’s happening so please just read it even if you don’t get the prompt! I promise you will like it a lot!

By: Claire

“(Y/N), you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Matty snickered the moment you entered the club building, your face makeup-less and your hair having lost all the curl in it from the night before. “How was your first night with the Nevada MC pres, did he rock your world?”

“Shut the fuck up Matty.” you muttered, walking over to the bar where Fig stood, an empty glass in his hand.

“What ya want?” he asked, not testing you with a stab at how you had spent your night.

“Just water and a Tylenol please.” you responded, sitting on one of the half broken bar stools while Fig nodded his head and disappeared behind the bar. “Where’s David?” you asked, looking around the room for the president of your MC who you had expected to be the first person to greet you.

“In the meeting room talking up a deal with the SAMCRO guys.” Fig responded, walking back in with your Tylenol and full glass of cold water. 

“Those are the guys from Charming right?” you asked, wondering what some California MC was doing visiting your MC.

“Yup, that’s them.” Matty chuckled, still getting a kick out of your tired, pale, face. “Damn, the pres sure must’ve rocked your world, was he rough?”

“Matty, enough.” the sudden stern voice of David spoke, stepping out of the meeting room followed by a tall blonde man with a handsome face, a fat older man, and a hispanic man with harsh features. “(Y/N), how did it go?” he asked, looking at you, slight concern on his face. He didn’t like the fact that this was the plan that had happened, however he knew that you were a capable member of the MC and you were one of the only people deceitful enough to pull off going undercover in a pack full of criminals who could normally sniff out a liar in a heart beat.

“I swear you don’t pay me enough.” you chuckled slightly, sticking the pills in your mouth and then taking a big gulp of water.

“So good I take it?”

“My head’s not on a post in front of the door is it?” 

“Kinky.” Matty chuckled under his breath, only to be shut up by David’s harsh glare from across the room.

“So you’re in?”

Originally posted by alyce-in-bloom

“Yeah, he invited me back to the MC in two days, said he had to get some business done first.” you responded, ignoring Matty’s comments like you always did. 

“That’s my girl.” David smiled, right after realizing he had yet to introduce you to the SAMCRO gang. “(Y/N), this is Jax, Bobby, and Happy. They’re all from the MC out of Charming.”

“I’ve heard of them.” you said, standing up and walking over, sticking out your hand to the tall blonde man who had been introduced as Jax. “Pleasure.” you said in a low voice, your eyes looking up at him seeing as he towered over you.

“Is all mine.” he smiled back. 

“(Y/N).” David interrupted after a moment of you and Jax just looking at each other, creating a slight unspoken connection. 

“Yes sir?” you asked, turning around and looking at him. He snorted slightly at your mocking tone, knowing that with your lack of respect for authority, whenever you called someone sir it was a blatant stab at their superiority. 

“You still have your gun?” he asked. You nodded before bending down and pulling a small compact gun from your combat boot. 

“Full amo and everything.” you said, placing it in his outreached hand.

“Good, it’s mine now.” 

“What?” you asked, furrowing your brow as a look of confusion filled your face. “Don’t I sort of need that if someone, oh I don’t know tries to shoot me?”

“The only reason someone in the Nevada MC would try to shoot you was if they saw this sticking out your boot, you’re safer without it.” David instructed, sticking your gun down the back of his pants.

“Wow, you’re taking away my toy.” you muttered with a look of disbelief on your face.

“It’s for your own good.” David promised. “Now Jax, about that offer, I know your a little unsure but I can promise you we can-”

“I’ll take it.” Jax interrupted, his eyes still glued on you like they had been since the moment he first saw you. “Me and my guys will come by every week for a fresh delivery, payment in full each week please.”

“Sure, of course.” David spoke, shock on his face and in his voice.

“In that case, see you next week.” Jax smiled, before breaking his eyes from you for a brief moment, looking at David, nodding his head, and then looking back down at you right before making his way to the door. 

“Someone’s got a little crush on (Y/N) if I do say so myself.” Matty chuckled, nudging you in the side once Jax and the two other men had left.

“Shut up, what is this high school?” you snorted back. However, you weren’t naive, you never had been. There was something about the way he looked at you, you knew something was up, and the butterflies in your stomach told you that as well.  

Of Sickles and Snogging

so various clubs at my college are fundraising and one club is charging a dollar to throw a pie at volunteers’ faces. fun, right? i was walking past the stand when i overheard a conversation about one girl throwing a pie at a guy friend’s face, but the person telling the story said, ”she didn’t even throw it, she just slowly pushed it into his face. it was the most sexually charged pie throwing i’ve ever seen.” so of course, i had to write a fic. i hope you like it!

“Jenny? Ah, come on love, I know you’ve been dying to get one over Sirius for a month now. No? Addie, just a Sickle and you can cream Sirius in the - oh, you, first year girl, become Hogwarts legend by throwing a pie in Sirius Black’s face!”

“You know,” Sirius grumbles, wiping globs of whipped cream off his cheeks and flicking them into the grass below, “you’re supposed to be advertising all of us, not just me.”

Remus gives him an angelic smile. “I’m playing to the large number of girls in Hogwarts who want to interact with you somehow, Pads. Consider it a compliment.”

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A/N this prompt has been long overdue but thankfully I’ve finally written it before the year could end, cheers to these two precious cinnamon rolls!

Here’s Naegi comforting Hinata

We Could Wait Together - Nanami + Naegi

Nanami stood by the school gates and dutifully waited again.

She has been waiting for months now, every day, just faithfully waiting for someone to fulfill their promise. She trusts him and she holds on to the hope that he’d answer his words with action. She wanted to believe that she knew him well enough to know that it wasn’t like him to break off suddenly without prior notice. She wanted to believe in him. She didn’t want to believe otherwise.

Maybe something happened. And as she pondered over what that something could be, another something was happening right before her. Someone had comically tripped in front of her, his bag slid on the ground and stopped just at her shoes. She paused her game and her thoughts and then she immediately picked up the bag and crouched over the person with genuine concern.

“Are you okay?” She asked as her eyes scanned him for any signs of injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He replied with a wince. “Just tripped over my shoes.”

“But… they don’t have laces?” By standard uniform there shouldn’t be any laces on the required leather shoes. She blinked and then her eyes momentarily gazed at his feet and then back at him. It’s only then that she noticed the missing shoe. Specifically, his right one. “Oh…”

“Well this is embarrassing.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

“Just a second.” She said as she then went to retrieve his shoe. If her peripheral vision was right then she should be able to find it with relative ease. Which she did by the way and within seconds, she was back with his shoe in one hand. “Here. I believe this is yours.”

“Thank you.” He murmured, his face red with embarrassment, as he graciously took it and wore the troublesome shoe.

Nanami thought it was better to leave the stranger alone now. She didn’t want to embarrass him any further even though it was never her intention. So with a nod, she returned to her post and continued where she left off in the game. Or so she tried to.

“Is that… Gala Omega?” She heard him say and the moment the words left his mouth, his head immediately snapped up.

“You know of it?” The words leave her mouth before she could even chew on them. And just as soon as they did, they left a nostalgic aftertaste. She unconsciously held her console closer to her chest. Didn’t she have a similar conversation before? Her enthusiasm faltered for a bit.

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded with an easygoing smile. He leaned forward with a face of pure adoration and proclaimed, “It’s a classic, don’t you think?”

Nanami slowly blinked. That’s right, she’s had this conversation before… but not quite. Last time it was her who was the enthusiastic one. Last time it was him who got pulled along. Last time… was their first time to speak with each other. And last time, he fulfilled his promise. Just not this time…

“Yeah… I think so too.” She replied absentmindedly, her gaze was at a distance far away from where they were.

And he picked up the change immediately. “Hey, um, I don’t mean to pry but I noticed you’ve always been here after class hours. This doesn’t look like the best place to play videogames… What exactly are you doing here?” He politely started and then raised his hands. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just a little concerned…”

“I’m waiting for someone.” She answered without hesitation. She always did whenever confronted with the question. Just like how there was no doubt in her faith, there was no hesitation in her voice. But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t any sadness either. She continued morosely, “Someone who… likes Gala Omega almost as much as I do.”

Someone who disappeared all of a sudden and has been missing ever since.

“Oh, I see…” The stranger responded, he looked torn on how to reply to that. In the end, he settled for a hopeful smile. “That person must be precious to you for you to go this far.”

“He is.” She replied and her hands held her console tighter at the same time her chest tightened. “He is… very important to me.” She softly whispered. “My friends are… worried for me. They think I should stop waiting.”

She didn’t know why she was telling this to a total stranger. Perhaps it was because he was a stranger which made it easier to talk. She didn’t know what she was trying to gain from this conversation but she felt as though she needed it. She needed someone to talk to who wasn’t coddling over her safety. She appreciated her friends and their concerns but she wanted them to acknowledge her concern over her own friend. They don’t bring up the topic as often anymore except on stormy days. She’s grateful for them giving her own space but sometimes it could get lonely. She closed her eyes. Ah, it’s pointless. He’d probably tell her off just like her friends. It’s only normal to come to that conclusion and she doesn’t expect any different.

“They’ve got that wrong.” He cut through her thoughts.

Huh? Did she hear him right? She opened her eyes only to stare at his determined ones.

“I think it’s admirable for you to hold on for so long.” He said with a tone of respect and awe. “It’s okay to hold on to someone despite the signs. That just shows how much important that person is to you. As long as you want to do this and no one’s forcing you then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“That’s not the problem.” She shook her head and then frowned slightly. While it’s true that it was one of their concerns for her, that wasn’t their only concern. A more practical and immediate concern was that, “They think it isn’t safe for me to be here.”

He just stared at her for one full minute, his determination unrelenting, until he finally declared, “Then I’ll be here.”

Nanami’s eyes widened at his sudden declaration.

“With you.” He boldly continued. “I know we don’t exactly know each other but I also know just how much this person means to you. And if I could help you in any way I can, I want to help you.”

She carefully weighed his words. He sounded serious about this, dedicated even. Maybe even more dedicated than a stranger should have been. And that’s the thing. They barely knew it each other but he sounded as if they had been bonded for longer than just a few minutes. It puzzled her, this stranger’s kindness. “Why would you want to help me?”

“Consider it calling it even for helping me today.” He reasoned.

“I just gave you your bag and shoe.” She pointed out.

“I know. It’s just an excuse for me to help you. But honestly, I just can’t leave you in good conscience knowing that there was something I could do to help.” He confessed as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Nervously, he asked, “So… what do you say?”

What should she say? She’s still flabbergasted by his kindness to think  coherently. She’s a bit hesitant if she were to be honest but at the same time, she was also a bit lonely.

It gets lonely waiting here alone without a player two.

She looks down at her console. The two-player mode seemed to flash brighter the longer she stared at it. Games are more fun when played with others, right? She’d definitely play with him when he comes back but for now, it should be alright for her to try and play with someone else too once in a while.

Nanami returned his gaze with her own as she mumbled, “I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I must have jumped the gun a bit there.” He chuckled a bit, still embarrassed, and he then raised his hand towards her. “Makoto Naegi. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Chiaki Nanami.” She lightly shook his hand. It was warm just like the fuzzy feeling in her chest. “Let’s play lots of games… tomorrow then?” She smiled softly.

And he smiled brightly. “Yes! We definitely will! I promise!”

The next day, Nanami stood by the school gates and dutifully waited again. But this time, Naegi stood by beside her. And the two played games as they both waited together.

turntechgiraffegod  asked:

Can you do a companions react to being the ones to find sole inside the vault and being the ones to release them?

Wooooo first reaction request and these are LONG!  I hope I did alright, I’m not too familiar with Curie and Cait but I did my best.

Piper: Piper was out looking for the next big scoop for her newspaper.  Stories in Diamond City were starting to get old; it’s time she branched out and started covering the entire Commonwealth.  She found her way up to Sanctuary Hills, a place inhabited only by a quirky Mr. Handy bot named Codsworth, and eventually found her way to vault 111.  As she was lowered into the vault, so many feelings rose up in her: excitement, anxiety, elation, paranoia.  Maybe there were a ton of friendly vault dwellers!  But what if Gunners were already squatting here instead?  Or there could be nothing but food, antiques, and vintage literature!  But then… what if a Deathclaw got stuck down here?  The elevator hit the bottom, and as she snuck around she was relieved to find that the place was empty. Or so she thought; some of the giant pods that were in the two main rooms actually had people inside of them. REAL people.  Piper’s face went pale as she stood eye-to-eye with some of the people in the pods.  Some of them looked peaceful, happy almost.  But some looked as though terror had frozen on their faces, eyes open and crystallized with ice and blue lips left whispering something no one would ever know.  One of the pods at the far end of one of the rooms, unlike the rest, had a blinking button on a panel next to it.  Her curiosity got the better of her, and she pushed it with a shaky finger.  The pod opened with a hiss, and the person inside fell forward, knocking Piper onto the ground while muttering things she couldn’t understand.  She wriggled out from under Sole and backed away on her elbows, staring wide-eyed at this… relic from another time.  “Woah!  Hey! Are you okay?” Sole didn’t respond, only coughed while they braced themselves on their knees and forearms.  “Hey?  Can you understand me?” She propped herself up a bit more, her brief bout of terror being replaced by curiosity and excitement.  Sole nodded while they coughed and cleared their throat, turning their head to look at the brown-eyed journalist.  She began to feel a smile creep across her face.  “The name’s Piper, pal. Piper Wright… mind filling me in?”

Nick:  A strange, older man, seemingly untouched by the hardships and horrors of this world, had come into Nick’s office with a request of finding a person trapped in a vault in the north.  The man didn’t offer much information, other than some sort of riddle-sounding quip about how this person was from a time long ago and that they were what would determine the fate of the Commonwealth.  Despite a voice in the back of his mind telling him this was a waste of time, Nick left Ellie in charge of the office while he traveled north.  He found the vault near Sanctuary Hills, and upon seeing how empty it was upon entering, he was thoroughly convinced he’d been duped.  Some guy was probably getting his jollies on the idea of Nick wasting so much time, effort, and resources to travel to some dumb abandoned vault for no damn reason other than the potential of a chase.  He strolled through the hallways, shaking his head and muttering occasionally as the annoyance flashed in his yellow eyes.  Then he saw them.  The pods.  The people.  This was… wrong.  Who would do this?  Were they alive?  Were they dead?  Memories from old Nick resurfaced, new research being conducted in cryogenics; freezing people alive so that they could wake up in the future; VaultTec, prepare for the future!  Old Nick thought it was crazy, and it still was.  Most of these people looked frightened.  He wasn’t sure which one of these people were who he was looking for, but it didn’t matter; none of the buttons seemed to respond on the control panels.  He sighed, lit a cigarette, and tipped his hat down over his eyes as he leaned back against a control panel.  The cryo pod whirred to life, hissing and letting out steam as the glass door rose, prompting more than a little jump from Nick.  He saw Sole falling forward, and quickly stepped to catch them before they hit the ground.  They were coughing and gasping for breath.  “Hey, kid, y’alright?” Their hand was covering their mouth as the coughed, and as they nodded and opened their eyes, panic fell across their face as they forced their hands up and pushed Nick away, scrambling to get as far away as possible.  At first he was confused, but then remembered the mysterious man’s comment about how this person was from another time; now it made sense.  “Hey, uh… look, I know this must be a shock, but-“ “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” Sole was still reeling from the death of their spouse and Shaun’s disappearance, and now there was a gray man dressed like a noire detective with half of his skin falling off and glowing yellow eyes staring him down.  None of this seemed real.  Nick nodded with understanding, stood straight, and raised both hands as he took a few steps back.  “Look, kid, I don’t know how else to say this, but I think you’re best bet at surviving right now is with me.  I want to help.” “Don’t give me that shit!” Sole screamed, “Leave me the hell alone!”  Nick nodded again.  Sole scrambled up to their feet, and made a dash for the door.  Nick sighed and tried to follow, being sure to keep his distance.  He felt bad for Sole, they had no idea what they were getting into with this new world.  He kept an eye on them, making sure to keep them out of danger’s way.  Although it took a while, Sole did come to begin to trust this strange gray man with golden eyes when he saved their life more than once.

Danse:  Danse’s team got orders from Maxson to check local vaults for any prewar tech they might have sheltered.  Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys had set up post at a local settlement, formerly known as Sanctuary Hills.  Danse went out scouting to try to locate the vault, and ended up entering it by himself to prevent his comrades from being injured or potentially ambushed within the confined space.  He was relieved to find it abandoned, only occupied by dust and cobwebs.  At face value the vault didn’t appear to have anything astounding; the vault door controls were the same as any other, and the halls were shockingly bare.  Upon entering one of the cryogenic rooms, the edges of his mouth twitched up a bit in a mix of contentment and pride; the Brotherhood hadn’t seen tech like this before, and he couldn’t wait to bring Haylen and Rhys down here to see it for themselves.  People were frozen inside of these weird egg-shaped pods, unmoving but not decayed.  A brief thought of putting a Gwinnett Ale in one of those pods crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.  He walked past a row of them, peering into the frosty windows of each, and when he reached to the end of the line and saw Sole’s distressed expression he got a little uneasy.  Everyone else had either looked peaceful, maybe a little frightened, but generally at ease.  This person had looked like they went in the pod with a fight, kicking and screaming.  He leaned his laser rifle up against the control panel absentmindedly to look closer at Sole, and the rifle had pushed on the release button.  The pistons started hissing to life and steam exited the pod as the glass rose, and Danse took a few heavy steps back in shock.  Sole fell forward, hitting their head off of his power armor, and rolled to the ground.  Danse took a side step toward his rifle, hand on the barrel and ready to pick it up, before he talked to Sole.  “Who are you?”  Sole managed to speak their name while they were coughing.  Danse looked around a bit to observe his surroundings, biting his lip a little in thought before looking back to Sole.  They looked human, they didn’t seem hostile… could generation 3 synths survive such an intense cold like that?  He extended a big clunky hand to help them onto their feet before introducing himself and explaining his position within the Brotherhood of Steel.  Upon hearing Sole’s story about being frozen by VaultTec, having their spouse murdered, and their need to find their kidnapped son, Danse offered any and all assistance he possibly could within the bounds of Brotherhood guidelines.

Hancock:  Hancock had fought off too many raiders and feral dogs for his liking.  He had to get away from Goodneighbor for a bit, let himself be who he truly was, and he knew the kind of world this was.  But he was in the middle of nowhere.  Barren trees and a shitty river was all he had seen, but rabid dogs and bloatflies and raiders were in surplus.  He desperately needed a chem break.  After climbing a pretty big hill, he spotted a worn down shack that he thought would be perfect, and upon making his way there the ground lurched beneath his feet.  He almost fell over as the platform started lowering, and he thought for a minute that maybe he had already had some chems without realizing it and this was just a weird ass trip.  Once he hit the bottom, he sauntered through the vault, whistling at some of the pods with frozen faces inside.  “Poor shits, wonder what happened to ‘em.”  He poked and slapped at the buttons on different control panels with no effect and shrugged, plopped down on the floor in the corner of the room, and pulled some Jet out of his pocket.  After a few hits he was feeling pretty good, and brought himself to his feet.  The room was spinning, and his balance was bad.  He fell against a control panel, and about lost his mind when one of the pods started pouring out steam and making some high pitched noises.  Sole fell out, and Hancock followed suit, throwing himself down beside them.  He had a big grin spread across his face as Sole turned to look at him before screaming at the top of their lungs.  “Hey man, chill, I got just what you need.” Sole didn’t even register that Hancock was speaking.  They were scrambling away, mouth gaped open and eyes tearing a bit as they stuttered, “z… z… ZOMBIE!”  They threw whatever objects close to them that they could find in his direction, missing him by at least a foot every time. Hancock’s smile fell as he groaned, rolled his eyes, and tossed his head back with enough momentum that the rest of him fell back to the floor again.  Sole took this opportunity to run out the door to escape.  “This is the worst trip ever,” he sighed as he fiddled through his pockets for more chems.

Cait:  She had managed to sneak away from the Combat Zone one night while Tommy was passed out.  She ran as far as she could, covering as much ground as she could, and kept a low profile for a long time.  She traveled north, as far away from the city as she could, to try to leave the area.  She had enough Psycho to last her a while, and she just wanted to be left alone.  She wanted to live out the rest of her days in solitude, however long that may be.  She passed through Sanctuary and climbed the large hill to find the conspicuous gear-shaped platform.  Her curiosity got the better of her.  She stepped on the platform and let herself be lowered down into the darkness.  She figured if she could get this platform to stay at the bottom of wherever it was they were going, she could just hide out down here on a constant Psycho high.  She was ready to fight to claim it, but was pleasantly surprised to find it empty.  The pods creeped her out, but she didn’t care.  None of those people stuck in those things could get out, so she figured she’d get used to it.  She gathered made herself comfortable in the corner of one of the cryo rooms, took a dose of Psycho, let it sink in, then tossed the canister away from her as far and hard as she could. It ended up hitting the release button on one of the pods, and she sat frozen with a confused expression on her face is it began to open.  Sole fell out, and Cait didn’t say or do a thing, just watched in disbelief as she watched this person grab at the glass of another pod and yell about getting someone named Shaun back.  When Sole began to take in their surroundings, they looked right at Cait with just as much disbelief as she had been feeling, and they both muttered a small “hey” to each other before Sole began to ask if she knew were the people who had taken Shaun had gone.  She shook her head and watched as Sole made their way out of the room, and suddenly feeling some sort of… vague compassion or something akin to it wash over her. She quickly got to her feet as she called after them.  “Hey, wait, you can’t be goin’ out there by yerself!”

Preston:  After their escape from the museum, Preston and his companions had made their way to Sanctuary Hills, where Mama Murphy swore it would be safe.  She also spoke of a nearby cave of some sorts with a person who would be crucial to bringing the Minutemen back into action for the Commonwealth.  While Preston was usually disappointed with Mama Murphy’s chem use and her ‘visions’, she had effectively brought them to their new settlement and he was a bit hopeful about her promise of the Minutemen’s revival.  Frequently, he would scout the surrounding areas under the guise of keeping their settlement secure.  He found the vault entrance, and although he was uneasy, he entered it with hopes of this being the “cave” Mama Murphy had mentioned.  He was disheartened when the vault was uninhabited; his voice echoed through the halls.  He decided to look around for supplies anyway, and found the cryo pods.  A little bit of panic ran through him as he rushed to try to get every single pod open; he wanted to save these people.  As more and more of the pods refused to open, he begrudgingly slowed his pace, shaking his head after every failed attempt to open the pods.  When the final one finally whirred to life and began to open, he didn’t know what to do with himself.  He watched as Sole fell forward, and rushed to catch them.  Sole gasped for breath in his arms, coughing in between every ragged breath, and Preston attempted to console them, rubbing and patting their back. “Hey… there, there, you’re doing alright.  You’re going to be alright.”

Dogmeat:  A band of raiders took over the Red Rocket Truck Stop, so Dogmeat had been wandering around the outskirts of Sanctuary Hills for a few days.  The poor little pup about had the life scared out of him when the ground he was walking on started lowering without warning.  He navigated the halls of vault 111 slowly and cautiously, keeping low to the ground and growling deeply every now and then to try to scare off anything that might be lurking in the shadows.  As he was walking between a row of cryo pods, a radroach dropped from the ceiling right in front of him, causing him to yelp and jump in the air.  His butt hit the release button on the control panel and Sole fell out of the pod, stepping forward with a lot of force and crushing the radroach.  Dogmeat barked with joy, and they’ve been inseparable since.

Strong:  Strong doesn’t even know how or why he entered this vault.  There was no way the milk of human kindness could be here, this was stupid.  Nothing but big bug pods with tiny, weak humans in them.  Still, he searched the vault to find nothing, and grew frustrated with himself.  He lost his patience and started thrashing about, throwing what he could and breaking everything in his path.  In his bout of fury and frustration, he had broken the control panel for Sole, leaving them to be left in the cryogenic pod for the rest of eternity.

X6-88:  This wasn’t really a big deal for X6; Father had sent him out specifically for this task, and he had treated it like any other.  He did find it odd that he was retrieving a human rather than a refuge synth, but Father had stressed the importance that this subject be retrieved safely and treated with care.  X6 pressed the release button on the control panel next to Sole’s cryogenic pod, and caught them as they tumbled out.  Sole was in hysterics, still in shock from seeing their spouse murdered and their child kidnapped, and immediately went on the offensive, taking several swings at the courser.  He dodged a few swings before catching their fist, staring them in the eyes, and calmly saying “I’m here to help you.”

MacCready:  MacCready had no idea why he was letting himself be lowered into this hell hole.  He hated vaults, couldn’t trust them.  Nothing but bad things came from vaults, yet here he was, following what was probably another dead end to try to find a cure for his son.  He cautiously navigated the vault, peering around corners and checking every nook and cranny before advancing further.  Nothing was getting the better of him in here.  The cryogenic pods gave him another reason to hate vaults; they were downright creepy.  It looked like people were stuck inside of them, and he had assumed they were all dead, but their faces still carried emotions and movement.  He shuddered at some of the faces and decided to try to avoid looking at them, but a flashing red light caught his eye.  Only one of the pods had a blinking red button beside it.  He shook his head and sighed at himself.  “I shouldn’t be doing this… why am I doing this?” he asked himself in a shamed tone as he reached for the button.  He gripped his gun a little tighter as the pod opened.  He could feel his muscles shake and his gut turn with anxiety; this situation didn’t feel bad but it was… weird.  Someone stumbled out of the pod, wearing a skin-tight blue and yellow suit with “111” embroidered on the back.  They continued to stumble forward, coughing out names as they reached the glass of another pod.  MacCready looked around a little before looking back at Sole, feeling uneasy.  He cleared his throat to get their attention.  Sole looked at them with a spot of fear before stepping towards them.  “Do you know who did this?” they asked, “do you know who took my son? Please…” MacCready felt his heart drop.  He had only known this person for a few seconds, but he already sympathized with them.  They both had sons that needed saving, but maybe this stranger had a better chance at saving their son than him.  “No,” he murmured, “I don’t, but I’ll be dam- …darned if I don’t help you find him.”

Curie: Curie had been exploring the wasteland at random, avoiding trouble where she could but also researching at every opportunity.  Although there was nothing left to do in her vault home, she did miss the safety and predictability of it.  The wasteland was an unforgiving place, and statistics she had calculated had shown she had beat the odds by remaining alive with minimal combat experience.  She wanted another vault to live in, honestly; a new one with new possibilities.  Nothing she had come across in her travels, however, had led her to discover such a place.  She eventually found a quiet settlement called Sanctuary Hills, where another robot of the same design as herself was caring for the land and structures.  He was friendly, and she was ecstatic to have met someone like herself, although he wasn’t exactly the intellectual type.  Upon hearing about her desire to find a new vault to study, he told her about a nearby vault, vault 111, that should be somewhere in the nearby hills. She hurried off to find it, and was thoroughly ecstatic when she found the entrance.  The cryogenic pods she found were exquisite!  There were pristine samples of humans with no detectable radiation damage within them, perfectly suspended.  She could set up an autopsy table to learn more about the human anatomy and its more visceral aspects, perhaps even obtain some tissue samples and study more of the microbiology that was prevalent before the great war.  She tried to utilize the controls on several panels to no avail, until she successfully opened the pod that Sole had been suspended in.  Sole stumbled out, coughing and gasping for breath.  “Oh!  You’re alive!”  She circled around them in a bit of excitement, offering a stimpak for the person who seemed to be struggling to survive.  “You must tell me everything you know about this technology, I cannot find any manuals anywhere, it is most discouraging.”

Codsworth:  Codsworth had no idea where the vault that mum, sir, and baby Shaun went to was located, and for years he was in denial about what had actually happened.  He tried his hardest to keep the house pristine, eagerly awaiting their return from some sort of grand vacation, but eventually his spirit broke.  He began to roam the neighborhood, calling out for them, neighbors, anyone.  He eventually got brave enough to start roaming the outskirts of Sanctuary Hills, searching for the fabled vault that they might be located in.  One day, after following a beaten path, weaving between trees, and reaching the top of the largest hill astride their precious home, he saw it.  The rusted fence, the decrepit helicopter, the small control shack falling to shambles.  He entered the vault, yelling as loudly as he could for mum, sir, Shaun, or anyone that could hear him, but got no response.  Then he saw them… the pods.  He peered into each one, seeing the lifeless faces of people from his past.  He wailed a bit, thinking this awful fate fell to his most beloved companions, and the wailing grew when he found Sole sitting in a frozen state.  He didn’t care anymore; he started to swing his arms out and let his anguish from the past centuries flow freely.  It was then that one of his arms had hit the release button on the control panel without his knowledge; Sole stumbled out, coughing, confused.  “C-Codsworth?  What’s going on?”  Codsworth stopped in the midst of his thrashing to stutter in disbelief before finally expressing his outright jubilation that they were safe.

Deacon:  Desdemona had sent him out to gather intel on some of the vaults in the Commonwealth to see if they would be suitable for safehouses.  So far, he had found one vault still inhabited by vault dwellers that he didn’t want to disturb too much, and another vault that seemed to have more gunners than he cared to handle.  He traveled farther north to investigate a rumored vault 111, and was pleased to find it empty.  There wasn’t much room to work with really, but he thought they could make it work.  The pods were a bit creepy though.  Kind of alien almost, and it made his skin crawl.  He had played around with the control panel for one of the pods and just gotten something that sounded like an error noise, so at his leisure he played around with a few more. They didn’t seem to work, but there was no harm in checking them just to be sure.  He wanted to make a run for it when one of the pods started hissing and cracking open; he was so used to nothing happening that this made him nervous.  There was nowhere to hide, so he hopped behind another cryogenic pod and hoped for the best.  Sole fell out onto the ground, coughing and gasping for air, and Deacon peeked around with wide eyes and raised brows to look at them.  They were crawling forward, yelling ‘Shaun’ and a name he couldn’t quite understand at another pod, reaching for the glass and… crying?  Deacon wasn’t sure what to do, so he quietly exited the room and entered the Overseer’s room to wait for Sole to gather themselves.  He’d talk to them then, and offer any assistance he could while trying to recruit them for the Railroad’s causes.

Forever and Ever

15 Days of New Year’s Phan Drabbles Day 5

Forever and Ever | Dan comes home drunk, and Phil worries his boyfriend will fly into the depressed rage that usually occurs, only to be pleasantly surprised at the night’s turn of events. | Phan | Teen and Up | Alcohol | 989 Words

Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil

Prompt: so dan gets kinda drunk somehow (however you’d like) and he ends up getting all sleepy and crawling into a relatively sober phil’s lap and they cuddle and phil basically just thinks about how cute dan is and how he’s like a giant teddy bear. just pour buckets of fluff all over it.

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