After seeing this, I wondered if it could be done with toys similarly to how this screenshot was. This is as close as I got it. Please excuse my poor choice of picture location and the photo quality. This took way too long.
Summary: (Y/N) cheering Hannah up when she needed a friend the most.
Word Count: 1.929
Posted: 07th of May 2017
A/N: Hey guys! I decided to write some Hannah imagines too. I never received any requests for her, so if you ever want to request, I am accepting them. I hope that you enjoy this fic. Thank you so much for the love and the support that I am receiving from some of you, I appreciate everything! Honestly. Hope you keep on reading my fics and just request if you want some imagines. Thank you.
- G. x
“Hey Hannah, are you fine?” You worriedly asked her as you noticed that she was crying when she got out of Mr. Porter’s office. You carefully threw the pen on the desk and wrapped your arms around your friend’s body, trying to cheer her up.
It happened that you were in the department’s office as the secretary called you to sign some papers for the administration before going home.
“I’m fine, (Y/N).” She answered as she tried to dry her eyes, but too late because you already saw that she was going through something bad. “Don’t worry.” You broke the hug and you gathered the papers that you had to sign. You observed Hannah and she had dark eyes and a soulless body. It seemed like she was about to give up on her life.
“Nope,” You shook your head as you signed the papers as fast as you could. “we’re going to Monet’s and have a cup of hot chocolate.”
“I’m fine, really.” She flashed you a broken smile and you knew that she felt better, because finally someone stopped her and cared. You knew Hannah and she would never bother people to ask for help.
“No way!” You insisted and you thanked the secretary when you finished what you had to do. “You need to tell me some things and you pour your heart out, because you should let everything out.”
“Thank you, (Y/N).” She gratefully smiled at you and you gathered your backpack that has been thrown on the floor before signing the papers.
“Let’s go.” You grabbed her hand and you excitedly led her out of the office. She laughed at you because of your actions, she appreciated how excited you were because no one ever showed her their excitement whenever they would go out with Hannah. You knew that she needed someone beside her, someone who would give her some attention.
“Hey, (Y/N).” Your friend Zach greeted you as he met you in the middle of the hallway and you smiled at him. “Want to join us at Jessica’s house?” You looked at Alex, Justin and Montgomery, who were standing behind him.
“Sorry, I need to go somewhere with Hannah, maybe next time.” You answered as you chose to help Hannah, instead of hanging out with your close friends. You wanted to make some differences and to help someone who was really in need.
“Go with them, they need you more than I do.” Hannah let your hand go, whilst you shook your head. “Go on.” She uncomfortably looked at your friends and they somehow felt disgusting for what they have done in the past.
“I have priorities here, Hannah,” You smiled at her and declined your friends’ request. You gave a meaningful stare to your friends as some of them had issues with Hannah and they just nodded as they understood what you meant. “and, this time, you are that priority.” You looked at her and she flashed you a wide smile, a true and sincere one.
Hannah has been bullied by some of your friends and you have always despised them because of that. They ruined her reputation and you were trying to fix her once again, trying to help her to find the Hannah she lost few months ago.
“Have fun!” Alex happily said as he knew what you were trying to do. Alex was one of the reasons why Hannah got bullied by some students at school and you hated him for touching Bryce’s list to make Jessica jealous. You hated him, but you knew that he was already feeling sorry about it, so you remained friends.
“Thanks, Alex! See you around.” You smiled at them and you started to walk to the parking lot. You led Hannah to your car and you drove to Monet’s.
You hinted that Hannah was happy to be with you that moment. You noticed her singing softly to some songs that have been played in your car and she would even dance sometimes. Her mood was surely different from her mood in the office before.
“Two cups of hot chocolate.” Skye, a waiter and a student at Liberty High, declared as she carried a tray with two mugs on it. She put the blue mugs on the table and she wished you a good day.
“Thank you, Skye!” You sweetly thanked her and she smiled back at you, relaxing her shoulders a little bit. She started to go back to the counter and you glanced at Hannah.
“Why are you so nice to people, (Y/N)?” Hannah curiously questioned as she took a sip from her mug.
“Well,” You put the mug back on the table as you started to answer Hannah’s perplexities. “I never know what’s going on in other people’s life, Hannah. You should always be nice, because you don’t know what could happen to them or what’s going on with them.”
“Then why your friends never bothered themselves to be nice, not even for once.” Hannah asked as she was referring to your friends’ chaos. You remembered how Hannah spent her time with some of your friends before, but she just ended up crying. All she wanted was to have some friends.
“I don’t know, Hannah. I know them for many years now and they are goofballs and assholes,” You sadly shook your head as you said the truth. “but I really don’t know why they threw their hearts away and be that cruel to you, I don’t know why things happened one thing above the other. The only thing that I know is that I’ve always been here beside you and I will always be here to cheer you up, to stand up for you.”
“(Y/N), everything is just so hard.” Hannah bit her lower lip, trying not to cry. She thought of the events that happened to her, the days when she felt pity for herself. “I feel empty inside.”
“It is Hannah, I can imagine how hard it was. Unluckily, people mess things up and they barely use their brains to think.” You seriously said and you took the cup to sip from your mug. “I can’t undo the past, but you can always talk about it. I will always listen to you and I will never get tired.”
“I am afraid to bother people.” Hannah said. “People don’t trust me anymore, I would get those dirty looks and those meaningful judging looks from the people around me.” Her tears started to roll down her face.
“People suck.” You sincerely said and Hannah smiled at you. She let her tears stream down her face and she took a sip from her mug. “And you know that I will never judge you, I never did.”
“Thank you, (Y/N).” She gratefully said as she looked into your eyes. She found a friend when she needed one the most and you were so happy that you helped someone. Maybe this is one of the steps how to save a life.
“You don’t have to thank me, Hannah. You shouldn’t feel that you are bothering people when you need help, don’t be afraid to seek for some help.” You told her, hoping that she kept it as some good advices. “So, what are you keeping in your heart? What are your problems, maybe we can solve them, together?”
“Uhm…” Hannah bit her lip and she wiped her tears away, drying her red cheeks.
“Whenever you want, okay? Whenever you feel comfortable on telling me.” You caressed her hand in a friendly way. You wanted to make her feel safe and protected.
“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head. “It’s that I want to have a new start, I want to leave my problems in the past. I know that I can trust you and I will always do.” She positively said. Having you beside her motivated Hannah to begin her life once again, to start a new journey, to see things in a positive way.
“That’s the spirit, girl!” You cheered her and she laughed loudly, finally forgetting of the difficulties and the weight in her chest before. “You don’t work tonight, right?”
“Right!” She answered you with a wide smile, her eyes shining and emanating happiness. “What do you have in store?”
“I am thinking of a movie at Crestmont Theatre right now. I heard from Clay that there’s a cool movie about amazing things tonight.” You suggested excitedly.
“Sure, that’s a nice idea.” She nodded her head enthusiastically and you smiled at her. She seemed a little child, excited for Disneyland. “But before that, can we go to my house? I need to change.”
“Yes, of course.” You smiled at her as you both finished your hot chocolates. You both laughed when you had a simple stare. You both felt great and relieved, mostly Hannah. She found someone who really appreciated her presence and a friend.
Once Hannah opened her bedroom door for you, you already felt welcomed in her personal space. You started to wander around Hannah’s room when she entered her bathroom, preparing for your friendly date together.
Her room was clean and rose-scented. The walls were full of posters and pictures and her school desk was clean too, no messy stuffs around. Everything was on their place and the bed was perfectly made too.
“Hannah?” You called for her attention when she got out of the bathroom. You noticed somethings on her desk that amazed you and you were so curious to know what they were all about.
“Yes?” She stopped in front of the desk, putting her eyes on the things that you found on her desk.
“Why are these tapes here?” You grabbed one and you admired it while holding it in your hand. The tape had a cover with some cute drawings on it and there was a number three drawn with a blue nail polish on one side of the tape. “Is it a project?”
“Oh, no.” Hannah smiled widely. “I recorded them just for something.”
“Can I listen to them?” You shook the tape as you were so astonished that someone still used these stuffs. “How many are there?” You put the tape back on her desk carefully.
“No! It’s not that important.” Hannah protested and she took the blue and black shoe box on her desk. She looked at it for a while before she threw it in one of her desk drawers, together with the tape you were admiring before. “There were six tapes in that box with twelve sides, but I might break them because I don’t need them anymore.”
You looked at Hannah and she had a great big smile on her face. She felt good and wanted during that moment, because she finally found someone who could help her, someone who never judged her, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand up for her.
“I don’t need them anymore, now that I have my friend with me.” She winked at you and you both laughed, although you didn’t know to what she was really referring with those tapes.
“Always.” You gave her one true smile and she ran to you to give you a tight hug. You hugged her back and you felt nice that you helped her in a copacetic way.
“Thank you.” Hannah mumbled as she rested her chin on your shoulder, lingering the feeling of having a friend with her. You couldn’t understand for what exactly she was thanking you for but you assume that it was for helping her earlier. “You saved me today.”
Harry was seated at yours and his booth at the local diner. It was a tradition that the two of you met here everyday after school to have a milkshake. It was a dangerous tradition but, boy was it a tasty one. He was reading the latest book his english teacher assigned to the class when you sat down on the seat across from him. You let out a sigh as you placed your hand on your cheek. Harry quickly dog tagged the page he was reading before he looked up at you.
Before he had the chance to ask what was on your mind, you mumbled, “Daniel asked Tanya to the dance.”
Harry’s lips pursed into a straight line. Daniel was the talk of the school. He played almost every sport the school had to offer, he was on the student council, and he drove a motorcycle to school (According to you, that was the hottest thing any guy could do). Whenever he was around, you could literally see every girls, and even guys’, pupils turn to little hearts. Harry was never a fan of Daniel. Daniel was nice, sure, but there was something about Daniel that bugged the absolute shit out of Harry.
au prompt: Castle or Beckett is a secret service agent to President Castle or Beckett. who plays what role is up to you :)
The terrorist attack on the White House comes totally and utterly unexpected, in sync with the wave of horrific explosions and decimation sweeping over a slew of major cities across the nation.
And all he can think about is the job he’s had for the last four years: keeping her safe.
Rick Castle, head of the secret service team assigned to protect President Beckett, moves into action the second the missile hits the East Wing of the White House. He hustles Kate out of the Oval Office and scans his eyes over the unfolding chaos before it can touch her.
“Castle,” she gasps, jerking on his hand, slamming them both into the wall as a spray of bullets begina to rain through the air.
“Shit,” he breathes, withdrawing his own piece, aiding in the returning fire of his team, trying not to watch the bodies of government officials falling dead in the halls. “Go ahead of me. Keep going-”
“No,” she hisses, her fingers hooking at his forearm, and he growls, hates now more than ever how stubborn she is.
“I’m covering you, go,” he commands, keeping both hands on his gun, his arms in position as she leads them down familiar corridors.
At least she knows the drill, isn’t trying to be a hero-
He hears her grunt, the slam of her body into another wall.
Castle immediately spins, sees her pinned by a man in all black riot gear and a gloved hand around Kate’s throat, a knife in the other.
Her knee pistons up into the man’s groin, has him doubling over just as Castle fires the shot into his head.
“Are you okay?” Castle questions, hearing the wheeze of her lungs as she coughs, but she’s already nodding, returning to the mission at hand, running.
She waits for Castle to unlock the panic room with his gun cradled in her palms, her heart rabbiting but her finger steady on the trigger as she waits with bated breath.
“Okay, we’re in. Hurry, before someone sees,” he murmurs, his hand at the small of her back.
Kate lowers the sig, but doesn’t give it back until they’ve slipped inside the secret room embedded into the wall, until the door that blends all too perfectly with the wall slides back into place.
Castle is one of the only people on the planet who knows about the panic room, one of the selected few allowed to know, and probably the only person she’s always trusted would never turn on her.
He proves her right.
Castle keeps one hand on her arm as they descend down the stairs, the pathway long and dark, foreboding. She feels the cool air embrace her the lower they travel, the weight of moisture clinging to her skin.
The underground safe room was built over a mile deep and by the time they finally reach the floor, the second security enclosed entryway, she’s panting.
“You okay?” he asks, his own breath quickened, his eyes glimmering in the barely lit corridor.
“Let’s just get inside,” she murmurs, but Castle lifts a hand to her face, his palm a familiar fit to her cheek.
“We’re surviving this, Kate.”
“Maybe, but no one else is,” she mutters, scraping a hand through her hair. “I ran like a coward. I’m supposed to keep these people, this country, safe-”
“By dying for your cause? Because that’s all you would have accomplished up there,” he reminds her with a narrowed look. “We’ve gone over this multiple times-”
“Doesn’t make it easier,” she snaps, stepping away from the caress of his hand and punching the code into the lockbox. “How long are we staying in here?”
“As long as it takes,” Castle sighs, following her in as the vaulted door swings open. He slams it shut behind him and enables every lock equipped to withstand all forms of enemies. “We should have electricity down here, so I can have eyes on the outside.”
She reclaims his hand again as they start down the final corridor that will lead them into a safe room the size of a studio apartment, stocked with food and weapons, and hopefully enough hard walls to keep them alive.
He laces their fingers, squeezes a little too tight, but she welcomes his firm grip, the confirmation that they’ve survived. For now.
Kate is curled on the sofa against the wall, her heels and pantsuit gone in favor of jeans and a black sweater, boots better suited for running, fighting. He’s trained with her for years now, knows she can hold her own against a man twice her size. But right now, with a throw blanket he knows once belonged to her parents tugged up to her chin and her eyes so hollow, she looks so small, fragile.
Castle was recruited to lead the security team for President Beckett during her first month of presidency, his knowledge of terrorism after losing both his mother and daughter in the 9/11 attacks profound, aiding him in his career in counter-terrorism.
He didn’t want to work in secret service, to spend his days guarding some woman, but then he met her. He made the deal to work for a year with her and then act on the opportunity to return to his original unit. But after getting to know Kate Beckett, learning her story of rising from homicide detective to senator, the source of her drive born from the grief of losing her mother, he chose to stay.
He chose her, always her.
“Thank you,” she murmurs after he’s set up the security feed and finished sorting the guns and ammunition he stocked down here over a year ago.
Castle glances up from a pile of grenades, rises from his haunches, and mutes the monitor showing them a live feed of the horror unfolding across the property. “For what? Getting down here was a mutual effort.”
“For keeping me safe, not just today,” she answers, biting down on her bottom lip. “For making this job more bearable.”
“You’ve been an amazing leader, an extraordinary president,” he says, his brow still knit in confusion. Her job was the most stressful position in the world, but she’s good at it, and he thought she enjoyed it. “You’ve done right by the people, by justice. Today? This was completely out of your control, Kate.”
She sighs, not wholly convinced, and Rick crosses the room to ease down next to her.
“Stop thinking like the president, hoarding all the guilt,” he murmurs, earning the turn of her gaze, the shift of her body towards him. “Just be a normal human being who survived nearly being assassinated. You’re alive, that’s all that matters.”
“What about you?” she inquires, her knees bumping his thigh as she faces him now. “Castle, I hate that your entire life has become centered around protecting me-”
“Even if this wasn’t my job, it’s what I’d be doing,” he states, shutting down that line of thinking before it can begin. “Keeping you safe… it’s all that matters to me. You’re - you already know.”
Kate raises her fingers to graze along his cheek and he catches the back of her hand, turns his lips into her palm. It’s been too long since he’s had the chance to touch her.
“I love you too,” she whispers, leaning in to nudge her nose to his cheek. She sighs out in familiar appreciation when he brushes his lips to her mouth, buries his fingers in her hair and deepens their kiss.
Kate’s soft moan has him desperate for more, but he remains glued to the spot, waiting for her to make the first move even as he suckles on her bottom lip. All it takes is a stroke of his tongue over hers to gain the surge of her body in his arms.
“I think it goes without saying that I’m done hiding it,” she mumbles, dragging him down on top of her, cradling his body in the embrace of hers.
“Good, because I wasn’t sure how we were going to make it another four years like this,” he breathes, smirking against her mouth when she chuckles. He chokes on a groan when her hands slide beneath his shirt, splay at his shoulder blades. “Kate, I should-”
“Remind me why I’m alive.” He drops his forehead to rest against hers, closes his eyes to the flames of sensation she elicits with the innocent touch of her fingers down his spine. But he’s helpless when her mouth opens beneath his, when her chest lifts to press against his. “Rick-”
“You’re alive because you’re too good to die,” he mumbles, kissing the skin between her brows, dusting his lips down her nose. The whimper that climbs her throat is muffled by the kiss he layers to her mouth. Her ribcage stutters beneath his hands as he skims his palms to her flesh, caresses the taut muscles and sinewy curves of her body. He should be watching the door, guarding her, but the world is crumbling around them and all he wants is this, her. “Because I love you too much to let you, Kate Beckett.”
She remains tangled with Castle on the couch for a long time. Her eyes often drift to the monitor on the table across the room, to the chaos that has gone quiet, but the White House grounds are still roamed by murderers. She knows she has responsibilities, duties as a leader of the country, but Castle has a point - the only thing she can accomplish by taking any course of action now would be adding to the bloodbath with self-sacrifice.
Castle has explained their exit strategy and has plans to communicate - once the chances of having a phone call intercepted have lessened - with Ryan and Esposito. The two secret service agents have apparently owned a role in this emergency game plan concocted between her three men since the early days of her presidency.
“They love you too, you know,” he murmurs the explanation into her hair while he brushed his hand up and down her spine.
She nods before lowering her head to his chest, fighting off thoughts of loved ones, her lack of them. Her mom’s been gone for fifteen years, her dad passed last September. Castle’s been without his eight year old daughter, Alexis, and his mother, Martha, since long before she ever knew him.
The list of those she cares about has only continued to shrink, but her ferocity to protect those she has left has grown.
Kate curls in closer to him. “We’re a family.”
Castle’s fingers bury in her hair, circle along her scalp. “Does that explain why they call us mom and dad?”
She scoffs, turns her head to brush her upturned lips to his collarbone.
“We have contacts across the globe,” he picks up, circling back to their original conversation. “They’ll send reinforcements. It’s just a waiting game right now.”
“If we get through this, I don’t want to run again,” she confesses, feeling him shift beneath her, attempting to catch a glimpse of her face, but she keeps her cheek pressed to the spot above his heart.
“This isn’t a new idea, is it?” he murmurs, curving his palm at her nape. She shakes her head.
“I want to change the world and I - I feel like I had a good run these last four years, but this job… I’m tired, Rick. And after this?” She sighs, unfurls her arms from her chest and lifts her head to meet his eyes. Soft and understanding and so very blue. “I just want to live for me for a little while. I want to go back to New York and collaborate with the NYPD again, I want - I want to get a loft in the city and a beach house in the Hamptons like the one you always gushed about-”
He huffs a laugh, his cheeks warming with a hint of color. Kate balances a hand on his chest, cranes her neck forward to rest her forehead to his, nudge her nose to his cheek.
“I want a life. With you.”
“All you’ve ever had to do is say the word,” he replies, stroking his thumb to the hollow spot at the base of her skull. “I want all of that and I - I want to try writing again.”
Kate sucks in a breath, can’t help the smile. He’s been writing her short stories for years now, snippets of characters and enticing political thrillers that she’s never been able to get enough of. His writing career was cut short after the national tragedy that took his family and she never questioned it, didn’t have to. But to witness his passion for the written word and weaving of a tale renewed… it has her heart fluttering with excitement.
“Man, we really have to make it now,” he chuckles, grinning at the press of her kiss to his mouth.
“We’re going to make it. We’re going to stop the bastards who bombed my house, took strikes at our city, our country. We’re going to rise again as a nation, like we always do, and then you and I are getting our happily ever after,” she lists, feeling her heart skip and accelerate at how badly she wants it. “And years from now, you can publish a loosely inspired novel about it.”
“Ah, President Beckett, you get me.”
His phone buzzes from the pocket of his slacks and Rick quickly leans over to snag the device.
“It’s Esposito, we need to get ready,” he murmurs, his chest expanding with a deep breath as he lifts his eyes to hold her gaze. “You’re glued to me the second we step out of here. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”
“It’s mutual. I’ve got your back out there, Castle,” she reminds him, nodding her head towards the arsenal of weapons. “No more overprotective bullshit. You’re my partner.”
He sighs, but doesn’t argue. “Deal, Madam President.”
She shoves lightly on his shoulder as she reaches past him for her clothes. “And stop calling me that.”
Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Hostage situation Word Count: 1359 A/N: This is the first part of my entry for @jurassicbarnes‘s writing challenge! Prompt: “You were chased by cops and took me as a hostage but you didn’t realized the cops were after me”
James’ grip on your arm was borderline painful. You had experienced far worse, but the intense pressure with which he was squeezing you to keep you in place was too much to simply ignore. It’s a stark contrast to the gentle way he had touched you last night. He had treated you as if you were glass that might shatter at any moment, but now you were afraid that he was the one who had broken. The barrel of the gun he was holding shook slightly against your temple, indicating that his hand was trembling. He was nervous, unsure. This is not what you had expected to wake up to.
“Leo had not only carried out his defensive duties, following Pep’s instructions and his own intuition, but he had scored, too. And after jumping to intercept the perfectly placed ball from Xavi, he sent a looping header over the keeper to score – a goal that Van der Sar has since consistently refused to discuss, either in public or in private. In the process, his boot came off. It was as if Leo had needed to stretch so much to reach the right height that his foot was suddenly too small for him. It was an Adidas boot. The best publicity they could have hoped for. Pep demanded plenty from Leo, but he knew that the boss was there in the good times and the bad, that he was by his side, and Messi responded to that.‘So when Guardiola made changes, it was so that Leo could shine and Messi knew that,’ continues Pedro. ‘And when things went well, in this case the final in Rome, you could see there was a special connection between the two of them, like saying “just as we planned it”.’
Leo and Pep hugged each other the first time they met up again in the privacy of the Rome dressing room. They did not say anything. There was no need to. It was their way of saying ‘we’ve done it’.‘Yes, it was a beautiful thing, it is always incredible to score goals and even more so in that match, in that final, it was something inconceivable, like a dream, so it was amazing. It was all happiness after that,lots of partying, lots of joy,’ recalled Messi some years later. He explained to El País what was behind all the rejoicing, over and above the level of celebration that such a victory always brings. ‘There had been the 2006 Champions League final which I was unfortunately unable to play in, because of the injury against Chelsea in the last sixteen which I didn’t recover from. I had said I wanted to win the Champions League as a participant and that was really beautiful.’
In fact, the evening turned into a nightmare for ‘the Flea’. Barcelona had organised a celebration in a castle near Rome, in theory a private do, but it became a parade of hangers-on. ‘Even the cats got in,’ one Barcelona player says. It was a struggle getting through the throng and, as a result, the players spent hardly any time with their families. The harassment was such that it became impossible to enjoy the evening. Not an appropriate celebration for such a historic night. The mood changed in the morning, on the plane, as Juanjo Brau remembers: ‘On the flight home, he grabbed the microphone and did a few turns. He couldn’t stop laughing, making jokes about his teammates with fine Argentinian irony.’
At the Camp Nou while celebrating the treble after a bus ride through the streets of Barcelona, Leo, wearing a scarf and Catalan cap, grabbed the microphone and shouted, slightly the worse for wear from alcohol, his voice a little hoarse: ‘Next year we are going to carry on and win everything, and we are going to celebrate it all over again. ¡Visca el Barça i visca Catalunya!’
Some late leo rankings: the US Rio leos, in order? Thanks!
WHOEVER ASKED THIS, I LOVE YOU. I’ve probably already overly expressed this, but I think the US leos were fucking INCREDIBLE.
1. We all know what this will be: ALY’S AA LEO (Laurie’s Beam leo)
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I am a WHORE for Aly in red. This leo GIVES ME LIFE. And I will be so very, very sad if we never see it in competition again. Obvs it looked good on Laurie in beam final too, but ALY IN RED. I adore the cutouts, and the fact that the mesh extends down the arms. The neckline is shaped PERFECTLY, stylish, but not too low cut. I think the rays of crystals are placed perfectly, they almost radiate from the face, as if to say, look up at me, I’m a star, but it’s also really understated? I also love that it’s a V-neck. I JUST LOVE IT OKAY. IT’S MY FAVORITE LEO EVER.
2. Team Final
ICONIC. No real explanation needed. This would be #1 if it wasn’t for Aly’s AA leo. (Also look at Aly’s abs in this picture, YAS). Like this is just designed PERFECTLY to be a team final leo. The fade of the red, the balance of the navy/stars to the white with red stripes. I know the ‘USA’ is the same on every leo, but I feel like it stands out REALLY well on this one. It looks good on EVERYONE.
These were just gorgeous. And perfect for a qualification leo. To me, it said “Hey, just an FYI, we’re here and we obvs gonna dominate but like we’re not gonna really show it off yet.” Again, this looks good on everyone, but in a more understated way.
4. Simone AA
I mean just look at that leo. It looks incredible on her. I’m honestly SO GLAD no one else wore this leo in competition because the fact that only she wore it sort of said, “Yepp, I’m the GOAT and this is the leo you’ll always remember, just like Mary Lou’s, because I’m the only one who wore it and I SLAYED.” The red and white stripes are placed perfectly. The mesh/see-through sleeves, with perfect placement of crystals up the arms. The blue extends all the way up the back over the inside of the shoulders. The stars on the torso are just… yes? Like Idk how else to describe them.
5. White version of the Floor leo
Idk why I adore this SO MUCH? But I think that the fade on the red into white is executed PERFECTLY. I usually HATE all or mostly white leos (McKayla Maroney’s vault leo, I’m looking at you), but I LOVE this. I think it’s designed extremely well. The gradient on the sleeves is just perfect. I prefer the white ribbon over the red. The placement of the red gradient on the torso is placed REALLY well.
6. Podium Training
Again, Aly in red. I like the US in all red in general. The v neck is great. I LOVE THESE SLEEVES. If I could change anything about this leo it would be the weird line of where the torso portion ends above their breasts? I think this would be beautiful as a mini v neck instead of a mini inverted v neck? But I still like it.
7. The Cursed Leo of 2016
The unfortunate circumstances of this leo aside, I actually like Gabby in this leo? Better than Simone. I’m shocked too. I think it’s honestly designed well. Like really well. If it wasn’t for the superstition…
8. Floor finals
THIS LEO HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL. It’s perfect IMO, except for the weird ass red ribbon v neck thing. Like imagine this leo without that ribbon, it would be BEAUTIFUL. Especially with how the crystals are placed on the torso, like yes. The sleeves are YES. If you couldn’t tell, I ADORE mesh/see-through sleeves (is there a better word for that?).
BONUS: Training Leos!!
1. Gradient Heaven
2. The non cursed version of this leo (ft. the Dutch!)
3. Blue and Red Party
4. Another White Leo I actually sort of like?
5. American Flag-it-Out
6. Are they Stars? Are they polka dots? WHO KNOWS.
A/N: This took SO LONG and I’m super sorry! I just recently got adopted by a baby squirrel and I’ve been taking care of him, making sure he’s okay. I named him Buckwheat! He’s adorbs. This was requested by @ittybittywriter. Also, can anyone tell me how to do the “read more” html on the app for the phone? I don’t own a laptop/computer
A/N Part 2, Heart Complications update: I’m working on Part 3 as we speak and BE WARNED, IT’S GOING TO GET VERY DARK. There’s going to be a few jealous men, some stalking, slight abuse, harassment. It’s going to get dark, so I figured I’d warn you first off before I post it.
You’ve been friends for years, but what happens when Jeff talks you into a night at the bar?
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun to go out. You know, something you don’t know how to do?”
Jeff was right. You didn’t know how to go out. Hell, you barely knew how to get out of your pajama pants into jeans half the time. You were always a shy person, even after four years of being best friends with the youngest Hardy brother. You two had met at a house show where he managed to botch a move, throwing himself over the barricade into your lap. The accident started a beautiful friendship.
You look down at your half assed attire. Black skinny jeans and a normal purple cotton shirt. You roll your eyes and sigh.
“Fine, you win. I’ll have to.. dig something nice looking out of my bag”.
You can hear Jeffs smile pulling from ear to ear.
“I’ll meet you at the club after the show. I’ll text you which one we decide one. See you there?”
“Well obviously, you already talked me into going out. See ya later”. You hang up with him, turning around to face the big balcony window.
You grab your duffle and rush over to the edge of the hotel bed. You begin shuffling through your duffle bags, hoping to find a miracle you threw into you bag when your packed it, half asleep, before you took this trip with him.
Throughout the years, Jeff always tried to get out into the scene, getting you out of your comfort zone of staying in your hotel room. It never worked, no matter how many times he begged you to go throw beers back. Finally, you feel the familiar, soft touch of silk. Your miracle in a duffle bag. The dress you bought before the tour. It has a low plunging neckline with a strap halter and a slit from on the right hip from the waist to the middle thigh where the dress stops. It’s a beautiful light green, which contrasts perfectly against your skin. You lay it on the bed and check the time on your phone. 9:49.
Good you think. Enough time to get ready. You waltz over to the desk, which has a giant vanity mirror on it. Grabbing the makeup bag you managed to find before leaving home, you begin putting on a little mascara and foundation, to make yourself look like you’re not tired. Your phone buzzes.
Jeff: Hey, we’re going to The Underground. Meet us there around 10:30?
You put your bottle of foundation down, picking up the phone to start typing.
You: Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll maps it to find it.
Your phone buzzes a minute later.
The phone reads 10:14. You didn’t realize how long you took on your appearance for something you’re not even going to enjoy. You also zoned out the fact that you put on eyeshadow. You get up and walk to the bed, sliding the pajama pants off your body to the floor. You pull your shirt up off your torso and glide yourself into this silky, beautiful dress.
Next is the worst part. High heels. You grimace at the black spiked heels, knowing you’re not the best walking around in them.
“Fake it ‘til you make it, I guess”, you mumble as you pull the heels over your delicately soft feet. You spray a bit of perfume on and off you go out into the dark streets of Chicago. Your hands clenched into your smartphone, following maps down blocks of city sidewalks. A text pops up on your phone.
Jeff: Where are you? You’re late! :P
You smile softly at the semi-worried, semi-joking text as you hit the reply button.
You: Do you know how long it takes for me to look good?
You take a left, finding a brightly lit street of neon signs and loud human activity.
Jeff: Not very long. Getting the balls to come out? Probably about 3 ½ hours of crying and telling yourself you can “do this”. :D
You walk down the street, multiple men and women turn their heads to look at you as you strut passed them.
You: Eat me, Jeff.
Ahhh, The Underground. Finally finding the building as you quickly glance up to read the signs. You turn your phones screen off and push the door open to the night club. Instantly looking for your little party of Jeff and the gang. Multiple heads turn as your legs stride with your walk, checking you out from every angle.
Deans sitting with Jeff, along the likes of Alexa, Renee Young, and Seth. They’re around a little round table, pounding back shots of mid shelf tequila. The burn of the smooth alcohol twists everyones faces into indistinguishable looks of approval. Seths head comes back down, his eyes landing on you. Almost instantly he starts elbowing Jeff. Finally, he looks your way. He takes his swallow of alcohol in surprise before his mouth lays open, the sight of you sending his heart racing. He sways over to you, his tight blue jeans hugging his hips almost too perfectly.
“We started without ya”, ha places his hands on your bare shoulder, “buuutttt, we saved your shots”, his smile beams through the dark lighting of the venue, “you’re three behind”.
He takes your hand and walks with you over to the table, fully noticing that Seth can’t even say a word to you, let alone look at you.
Jeff chuckles, “Cat got your tongue?”
Seth shakes his head, “nah, (Y/N) does”. Bayley smacks him in the arm before laughing.
You take your first shot and instantly wince. Tequila. You wish someone would have told you, so you could have licked some salt. The burn trails down your throat. Before you know it, you’re six shots in, thirty minutes past midnight, laughing at Dean and Renee attempt drunken karaoke. Jeff struts over with another round of shots. As he reaches the table, he eyes you up and down before a light pink spreads across his face. He hands you another shot.
“What was that look for”, you ask, “impure thoughts?”
A grin cracks across his face, “very impure”. He places salt in between his thumb and forefinger. You shake your head and dust it off. “I have a better idea”.
You take the salt from his hand and smile your prettiest “almost beyond drunk” smile, then lick your thumb. You rub the wet thumb on your collar bone and pour salt on it as Jeff raises an eyebrow. You bat your eyelashes, “body shot”? He grins, almost evilly, before pressing his lips to your collar bone, sliding his wet tongue across it, before taking his shot and biting into a lime.
He brings his head to your ear, “your turn”. Jeff empties off the table before jumping onto it to sit, leaning back against the wall. You look him from head to toe, then back up, as he drunkenly pulls his white shirt tshirt up to his rib cage. He then mimics you, licking his finger, rubbing it right above his belt on his hip. He pours a little bit of salt, then hands you a lime and a shot. “Go ahead, princess.”
You smirk, cocking an eyebrow at him before slowly bending your head down to his belt. You slip finger underneath the hem of his pants and tug down slightly, before licking your tongue against his hip slow, as he bites his lip watching. Your head comes back up, to take the shot of tequila. That’s when he grabs your hands and leads you out to the dance floor as a bassy, dirty, EDM song comes on.
Before you can even blink, he’s got his arms wrapped around your hips under the darkened, strobe lit, and black light paint room, as you both begin to grind on each other. Your hips touch as he slides his hand down to the cut of your dress. When did this happen? Why is my heart going a million miles a minute? Your soaked hair pulls against your skin as he again brings his hands up from your hips to your waist, watching your lower body move against his. He spins you around, so your back is placed against his chest as you both continue to sway against each other, getting completely lost in one another’s bodies. He holds your hips so they stay connected to his, the bubble of your ass firmly pressed into the crotch of his jeans, which continue to get more strained every second.
He grabs your arm and whispers “I can’t handle it anymore”. You mouth back, “handle what?”
Not even ten minutes later, Jeff pushes you against your hotel room door, your mouths wrestling against each other for dominance as he scrambles to find the door key. You pull on his cotton tshirt, flicking your tongue against his lips as he nearly rips the key card from the pocket of his pants, forcefully shoving it in the slide, almost breaking the door off the hinges as he swings it open, pushing you both into the room.
He pulls his shirt off without any effort, dropping it to the floor before fumbling drunkenly with his belt. You grab his hands and pull them away, before placing your own hand on his green studded belt, pulling him towards the bed. You strip yourself of the dress with your empty hand, letting it fall to the floor as you lead him to the edge of the bed, pushing him down slowly as he sits on the edge.
You climb up behind him on the bed, pressing your breasts against his back, taking your hands and rubbing them down his shoulders, to his chest, and back up before reaching up and taking his hair of the bun it’s in, allowing his hair to fall against his shoulders. He stays quiet, quickly glancing over at you as you climb back down and place yourself on your knees in front of him. You run your hands from his knees to his belt buckle, his bulge fully straining against his pants, the imprint taking you by surprise. That’s gonna be more than a mouthful.
You undo the buckle, then work on the button and zipper, as he pushes up to allow you room to tug his pants down from his waist and off his body. You look back up at him as he begins to palm himself, the pressure from your tease barely controllable. You watch him for a couple seconds, noticing the wetness forming between your legs. You take the band of his briefs and slowly pull them down, exposing the thick, hard cock in front of your eyes.
As he helps you kick them off, you lap your tongue against the tip. Jeff lays his head back as he leans himself on his elbows. You watch him bite his lip as you fully surround the head of his cock inside your mouth, again licking your tongue around it. You hear a soft moan slip from between his lips. You slide your head father down his shaft as your face comes in contact with his lower body, fully engulfing him in your hot, wet mouth. You pull back and begin to do it again as you feel him twitch inside you. He pulls your hair slowly until he’s out of you, standing you up.
“As great as that felt, that’s not how I’m getting off when I’m with you”.
He stands up and pulls your panties down to the floor, his fingers leaving trails of fire as they run back up your body, before slowly laying you down against the bed, your legs still off of the mattress. His evil grin reappears, as he takes your legs in his hands, pushing them to your sides as he takes in the view of your body. It’s almost mesmerizing to him. He aligns the tip of his still hardened cock to your slick, hot entrance, before pushing the tip inside of you. He gives you no time to adjust as he buries himself inside you directly after. The high pitched, shaky moan you let out, instantly receives a growl from him. He begins to slowly pull out a little, before snapping back in hard, keeping your legs pinned to the bed. Your fingers grip the blanket.
He pulls out again, snapping back in harder, your moan getting louder. That’s when he begins thrusting at a bruisingly fast pace, feeling every inch of him fuck you into the mattress. The bed here’s every time he repeatedly buries his cock inside you, his own moans spilling out. His eyes lock with yours as you’re moaning out swear words, you turn your head to the side, clinching your eyes shut as pleasure completely starts taking over your body.
He scratches your thighs hard, “fuck”, he moans out, breathily. Your pussy begins to clinch around him, keeping yourself from exploding, Jeff puts a hand on the bed to keep himself from collapsing from it, continuing the bruising pace on you. The sweat soaks his hair, as he grinds his cock in you, your expletives getting louder against the blanket as your orgasm begins to take control of you. He knows what’s coming, and it’s you.
His devil grin forms against his lips as his thumb presses against your clit, tempting you to explode.
“You want to so bad, don’t you”, his words like fire from a dragons mouth, only pushing you closer, “my little (Y/N) wants to come, huh”?
Your head nods fast, biting your lip.
“Just how long have you wanted me to do this to you?”
Your head turns to him as your lust filled eyes sends him directly over the edge into his own orgasm.
“Mmmmfuck, (Y/N)”, he slowly rubs your clit in circles, allowing the coil to burst inside you, pulsing against his cock, before he agonizingly slowly pulls himself out of you, catching his breath. With the little bit of energy he has left, he picks you up bridal style and lays you under the blankets, wrapping your sweat soaked body against his own, placing fiery hot kisses along your shoulder and neck before you both drift off to sleep.
The next morning you wake up, and Jeff is already awake. He’s kept you close to him as you slept, watching your chest rise and fall as you breathe.
“We need to talk”, he mumbles.
Your heart starts racing with anxiety. Those four words only almost always means bad things are coming.
“Mmh, okay, what’s up”?, you rub your eyes, taking a moment.
“What happened last night…”, he pauses, your blood runs cold, “…I want that to keep happening”.
“I want that, between us, to keep happening”.
You look up at him, “can I ask a reason why”? His face turns red as he looks away from you. “(Y/N), I love you.”
The breath from your lungs escapes your mouth as you stare up at this messy haired, beautiful man. He looks away again, “I just know last night you were very drunk and I know you’d never have feelings for someone li-“
You instantly cut him off by placing your lips against his.
“Jeff, I love you too. I have since I met you”. Jeffs beautiful green eyes light up like neon signs, gripping you tight in his arms.
Sorry for the very long delay! I hope this works for you. :D
Steve massaged at his neck as he walked, digging his
fingertips in along his spine. He ached everywhere. It had been a long day of
training, and then he’d devoted most of his afternoon to running and basketball
games with neighborhood kids. Most of them were the regular groups of kids
who’d gotten used to him, and Steve stopping by to play with them wasn’t a
cause for chaos. It was mostly the adults who made a fuss about him being on
the basketball court. They always ended up with an audience, dozens of cellphones
out, Twitter filling up with #CapHoldsCourt. Steve wished they’d leave him
alone, but the kids loved it, and it got them some exposure, brought attention
to the neighborhoods. Steve didn’t get to be an anonymous citizen in a hoodie
with a basketball, but that was alright. He was used to it.
Chin drifting down toward his chest, Steve took one hand
away from his neck and nudged the bedroom door open. The curtains had been
drawn across the floor to ceiling windows, blocking out the city lights. The
corners of Steve’s lips drifted up. He’d never had to say anything, but Tony
had somehow known that the cityscape made him feel untethered. One day Steve
had been standing at the window with his forehead pressed to the glass. He’d
been watching the tail lights of the cars going by, thinking about how much
they looked like toys from so far up. The next day, the curtains had been up.
They were mostly sheer, gray, sleek and very Tony. They blocked out just enough
of the cityscape to make Steve feel comfortable. Insulated.
“You look very moist,” Tony said.
Steve turned to find him propped up in bed with the top
sheet spread over his lap and a pillow pushed under his knees. He had a laptop
on his thighs, his fingers poised over the keyboard. The screen highlighted his
face blue, and for a second Steve wondered what Tony’s skin had looked like
highlighted by the arc reactor.
“I am very moist,”
Steve answered. He plucked his shirt away from his abs in illustration. His
fingers left an impression in the wet fabric after he’d let it go.
Tony grinned at him. For whatever ridiculous reason, he
liked it when Steve said moist, and
Steve liked indulging him. He dropped his backpack by the closet and tugged his
shirt up over his head. The cool air lifted goose bumps on his skin. He was
conscious of Tony’s eyes on him as he dropped the shirt to the laundry hamper
and toed off his shoes, but there was no hunger in it.
Slipping his shorts off, Steve glanced back. “I’m going to
take a shower. Want to join me?”
“Hmm… freezing cold shower, or stay in the nice comfortable
bed and just wait for you to come back all clean and cool?” He gave it his best
thinking face, turning his hands palms up and moving them up and down, weighing
the two options.
Steve laughed. “Alright. I’ll be back.” He heard the soft tap-tap-click-tap of Tony’s fingers on
the keyboard almost immediately. The sounds followed him into the bathroom, and
Steve left the door open so he could still hear them while he brushed his
teeth, used the toilet, and then finally turned on the shower. He always ran a
little hot, and cold showers felt so good after a long day of New York settling
into his skin. Tony kept unscented everything for him on hand for the times
when he got over sensitive and strong scents gave him headaches, but Steve
liked Tony’s body wash – rosemary, peppermint, and tea tree oil. It made his
skin tingle and left him with a chill for a while after he got out of the
water. Plus, it smelled like Tony. He took his time, scrubbing the washcloth
over his chest and down his arms, scrubbing every finger, cleaning under his nails
with the opposite thumb, rubbing the cloth at his cuticles. His toes got the
same treatment, and then the bottoms of his feet, the back of his knees, the
spaces between his legs and over his ass. He even managed to stretch and twist
enough to get his entire back. Even under the lukewarm water, the body wash
made him feel cold, almost like his skin was vibrating.
By the time he made it back to the bedroom and into his
boxers, Tony had shut the laptop down and set it down beside the bed. He was
still sitting up against the pillows, but he looked like he was starting to
drift off. Steve flipped the light off and felt his way back to the bed,
listening to Tony rustling around in the blankets to guide him while his vision
The sheets were warm with Tony’s body, and soft on Steve’s buzzing
skin. They rolled together without a word, Tony moving up the mattress and
Steve squirming down so he could tuck his head under Tony’s chin. He liked the
way it felt to have Tony’s arms draped around his head and shoulder, the steady
thump of his heart close to Steve’s ears, the scent of his skin.
“Did you have a good day?” Tony asked, tipping his head to
set this lips to Steve’s temple in a sideways kiss.
“Long,” Steve answered. He shrugged. “It was productive.
Tomorrow will be worse.”
Tony hummed. “You have that embassy meeting tomorrow,” he
recalled aloud. “Do you need moral support?”
“Don’t you have a shareholders call or investment something
Tony laughed. “I have a shareholders call and an investment something or other.
But I can still be your moral support. I can multitask.”
Steve shifted to get comfortable, tucking his arm under the
pillow and looking for that elusive position where his body and Tony’s body
locked perfectly into place and they were both too comfortable to move again for
a while. Tony shifted to let him move.
“I can handle the embassy,” Steve said finally, settling
down again. It wasn’t exactly the right position, but pretty close. Close
enough for a while, anyway. He’d try again in a few minutes, or Tony would. They’d
figure it out, or they’d roll apart when limbs started falling asleep. He
nuzzled into the underside of Tony’s chin, kissing idly at his throat.
Tony shifted against him. He threw a leg over Steve’s hip, and
leaned back slightly against the pillows behind him. Steve sighed happily as
they fell into a comfortable sprawl.
“Do you need anything?” Steve asked after a moment of quiet.
“No, I’m alright. Thank you.” His fingers drifted across the
back of Steve’s shoulders, and then down his spine.
Steve returned the favor, skating his free hand up Tony’s
arm. He hooked a thumb under the strap of Tony’s tank top and let his knuckle
rub softly over his collarbone. Steve had never been with someone who was as
content with touching and being touched without it leading to sex as Tony. It
was a relief after a lifetime of anxiety and constantly having to be aware that
his partner might not interpret cuddling as just cuddling. He’d never felt
before that he was free to just indulge in touch for the sake of touch. It wasn’t
that he disliked sex, and he really liked making Tony feel good, but he’d never
been drawn to it. Most of the time he was pretty sure that he got the same
enjoyment out of cuddling that other people got out of orgasms. When he’d woken
up in the new century and had the term ‘asexual’ defined for him the first
time, he’d almost wept from relief. In his time, he would have just been
labeled queer, and would have been in just as much danger from not having sex
as having the wrong kind of sex.
Steve looked up. Tony had his eyes closed, but his fingers
were still brushing across Steve’s skin. The motions were growing slower,
pauses between strokes growing longer. He was obviously drifting off to sleep. “Tony?”
“Do you really not mind that… well, we don’t have sex often?”
Tony cracked one eye open. They’d talked about it before –
talked it to death, it felt like – but confirmation wasn’t a bad thing.
Communication was important. Just because Tony hadn’t minded at one point, didn’t
mean he wasn’t starting to mind six months later.
Rubbing at one eye with his knuckle, Tony managed to get
both eyes open. “When I was younger, I might have minded,” he confessed
finally. It could have just been the sleepiness, but he looked a little guilty.
“No, I would have definitely minded. I would like to say that I would have seen
you for the prize you are and not let it get in the way, but it probably would
have. I’d like to think we would have worked it out anyways, but I was a
different person then.” He put his hand on the side of Steve’s face and urged
his chin up so he could see Steve’s eyes. “Darling. I am over fifty, and have
an actual heart problem. I promise
you, it does not bother me. I’ve never been with anyone I could just touch
without having to put on a show all the time, and that’s nice.”
Feeling warm, Steve stretched up and kissed Tony gently on
the corner of his lips, and then rubbed their noses together. “You’ll tell me
if it ever starts to bother you?”
“Cross my heart,” Tony said.
“And when you need it –”
“I will continue to communicate any needs with you as they
arise,” Tony interrupted, tucking Steve’s head under his chin and shifting
closer so they were tangled up together. They wouldn’t stay like that for long –
Tony kept the room cool to make cuddling more comfortable, but he’d get hot
eventually and roll away.
Steve took advantage of it while his body heat was still
pleasant for Tony, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist and holding him close.
“I love you,” he said against Tony’s collarbone.
Humming, Tony said, “That is something I will never get
tired of.” He leaned back so he kiss Steve’s forehead and then curled forward
again, wrapping his free arm around Steve’s head and carding his fingers
through Steve’s hair.
It was another position that wouldn’t last long – Steve liked
feeling cradled and sheltered, but it would eventually turn from sheltering to
smothering, and he would probably roll out of it even before Tony was driven
away by his body heat.
Tony curled over a little further. He kissed the top of
Steve’s head and gently squeezed his neck. “I love you too.”
Overview: A 50 Shades style Dean Ambrose smut fic, with it being the readers first time.
Characters: Dean Ambrose X Reader
“You’ve never had sex?” Dean asked you, the slight raise in his right eyebrow suggested he thought otherwise.
You stroked your arm nervously, holding back your answer, “no” you say looking anywhere around the room apart his diamond blue eyes.
“Well” he said “in that case let’s change that” he continued, standing up and extending his hand out to you. He took you down the corridor and into his master bedroom, flinging the bedroom door open.
He made sure to take his time with you, pulling you along slowly towards the king size bed. You found him to be so overwhelming yet slow and sensitive at the same time. He lead you slowly and placed you to stand at the foot of the bed.
His breath hot on your cheek as he whispered “relax Y/N, I’ll take care of you”. The nerves in your stomach settled down while your heart beat dropped. A gentle kiss was placed on your forehead as his hands reached out to caress your cheek.
He then undressed you fully taking his sweet time, kneeling down to kiss lines on your hip bones. His soft lips nuzzling into you, drawing more kisses up your body and between your breasts.
Victoire is built like a model, tall, thin, and gorgeous. From both of her parents she inherited killer bone structure. Vic isn’t as shy about her veela magic, and her platinum hair often has an unnatural glow about it, especially when she’s happy. Literal hair goddess, started out as a redhead but always hated the carrot hue against her skin, so she figured out beauty potions in her very first year at school and that was that. Blue eyes like her parents, not a single freckle, and skin that tans quite easily. Would probably rather die than get a tattoo. Vic can control her veela magic quite well, and has learned to use simple facial expressions to take control of a room.
Dominique appears a lot like her sister, only with a more unique and interesting beauty about her, as well as alternating hair colors. Nobody is sure if she started out as a blonde or a redhead, since she was born like a chameleon. Did come into the world with a face full of freckles, but learned how to use her metamorphagus abilities to hide them after Aiden Dolohov started calling her Spot in second year. Dom has Fleur’s dark blue eyes. While tall and thin, she is a little more athletic than her sister. Resting Bitch Face. Thinks tattoos are the coolest but is secretly terrified of that sort of commitment, but does have three piercings in each ear. She also has killer eyebrows and legs for days (when she was young she looked a lot like a baby deer.)
Louis was never lanky and never looked awkward with his long limbs. He’s always tan, as if he just stepped off the beach, and keeps his light blonde hair short. Annoyingly perfect body, broad shoulders, beater’s build. Louis has his dad’s grin, charming and maybe a little mischievous. Devilishly handsome. He looks a lot like Victoire, jaw and cheekbones perfectly placed. Sometimes he’s too lazy to shave so there’s usually a line of stubble on his jaw. Often shows up every school year with wind burns from spending the summer surfing.
James is built like a beater, tall and sturdy, with strong shoulders and arms. Although his hair is a few shades lighter than his father’s, and even glints red in the sun, it is quite as messy as Harry’s. James has curls that drive the girls mad. After seventh year, James grew it out more, and often wore it in either a bun or pushed back with a headband, both styles he pulled off quite well. James’ smile is as charming as his personality. Two small hoops in his left ear and a few small tattoos, all of which drive Harry and Ginny mad, particularly the latter. Possible beach bum? Cleans up like nobody’s business. Pale blue eyes like his mother and sister, can pull off facial hair like nobody’s business, and often stops shaving when he spends a week or two at home.
Albus is built more like a seeker, two inches taller than his older brother and lithe, muscular but thin. Like his brother, he’s extremely good looking. His dark waves are more windswept than crazy. He has razor sharp cheekbones and a jaw to match. Always clean shaven and smells pretty great. Strikingly handsome. Sun kissed skin and light freckles across the bridge of his nose. “Golden boy.” Has his father’s eyes, as green as grass, as everyone always tells him, and a possible case of Resting Bitch Face (but so does Dominique so it’s okay.) Super intense gaze. Has two tattoos (one on his forearm and a Montrose Magpie on his shoulder, as is customary for team members) that his mother will not know about until he moves out. Also has perfect skin and several scars.
Lily is five-nine, three inches taller than her mother, and just barely thicker than a model. She always keep her flaming locks long and straight and would probably rather die than chop it all off. Actually looks quite a bit like Albus, despite the pair having different hair and eye colors. Seriously, her hair is everything. Lily has an annoyingly photogenic face, much like her siblings, and has completely mastered the sly smile. Has a scar on her left brow bone and nobody quite remembers what it’s from.
Molly is average height, but quite pretty. She has really big eyes, blue, like her father’s, and typical red hair that she prefers to keep cut at her shoulders. Can actually pull off bangs. Molly has freckles across the bridge of her nose and has to wear glasses, but often substitutes them with charms and potions. Actually has a great figure, even if oxford shirts and cardigans don’t always accentuate it. Isn’t that athletic, which is good since she’s shorter than everyone else. Has an abundance of silly faces that can always make Percy laugh yet retains a smart look about her.
Lucy is the shortest of the bunch, coming in at a solid five-three. She also has the best body, even if her legs are a little shorter. Can make messy hair look cute or sexy (but always good) depending on her mood. Has big eyes like her sister, but they’re an interesting mix of blue and green that look especially bright against her brown hair. Always has long hair, like Lily, only hers is somewhere between wavy and curly, much like James’. Heart shaped lips. Has a cartilage ear piercing that threw Percy for a serious loop.
Rose is a mere inch taller than Lucy, and has wavy orange hair that reaches about mid chest, though it’s often messily tied back so that it’ll stay out of her eyes. Rose’s face and arms are covered in freckles, and looks a lot like her mother, which prompts endless comparisons between the two. She’s pretty and petite, with bright hazel eyes and a face that doesn’t need much makeup to seem bright. Has a brilliant smile and a laugh that could brighten Azkaban. Doesn’t know many hairstyles so she really sticks to either leaving it down, wearing it in a ponytail, or braiding it messily.
Hugo looks a lot like his sister, only taller, with blue eyes and no freckles. Unlike his other ginger cousins, he’s actually capable of achieving somewhat tanned skin without turning as red as a tomato. Hugo began as a lanky little boy with knobby knees, a freckled face, and long arms, but eventually his complexion evened out and he grew into his bones, ending up with a sturdy build, much like the rest of his male cousins. Keeps his hair short, and it doesn’t require much maintenance to remain neat. Has a nose and lips much like his father.
Fred and Roxanne both inherited their mother’s incredible hair and darker skin, but their father’s features and green eyes, striking on the pair of them. Fred is a lot like Albus in that he’s a few inches taller than James and thin, though still muscular. His dimples give his mischievous grin a boyish innocence that always keeps him out of trouble. Sometimes, while bumming it with James during the summers, he grows his hair out a little bit, but not much. Also like Albus, he can’t stand facial hair. Definitely has matching tattoos with James. Roxy is Rose’s height, and has glossy hair that is always at its best. Wants a meaningful, mystical tattoo, but can never decide on the right quote.
- Theo being overprotective af! - If a guy is flirting with you his there in a heartbeat, packing on the PDA to show that you’re taken - “You need to stop scaring every guy that talks to me away”….“Well I wouldn’t need too if they stopped flirting with MY girlfriend!” - Kisses, kisses and love bites EVERYWHERE - Cuddles because Theo can’t say no to you - Sex, sex and sex. - Both of you teasing the shit out of each other - Him smirking when he sees you wear one of his shirts - “Fuck babe you look so good in my shirt”….“I’m glad you think so because I’m taking it”….“I’m fine with that as long as that’s the only thing you wear it when we’re alone” - If anyone tries to harm you, Theo will hunt that person down and make them regret doing so - Being his first priority no matter what - “No-one touches my girl, or they’ll have me to deal with” - You being the only person that can calm him down
The First Time Mini Imagine
You had been thinking about this all day, actually you had been thinking about for a whole solid month. It wasn’t a easy decision, not for you anyway. Growing up your parents couldn’t stress enough about how important it was to choose the right person, to experience your first time with. They had always said it was best to wait until marriage, because then it was clear as day that the right person would be your husband. And even though you agreed with them, Theo came in and changed everything.
Throughout the day you had been casually avoiding Theo, it wasn’t like you wanted too it just made things easier to think about if you weren’t staring at him 24/7.
“Why do you look so nervous?” Lydia approached you, holding her bag.
“Um, must be my general expression?” you stuttered.
“General expression, is that what your really going to go with?” she asked.
Of course Lydia wouldn’t buy that, she was the smartest person you knew. Fooling her was pointless considering she would notice. “Promise you won’t say anything, especially to Theo?” you pleaded.
She nodded and you pulled her into more to the side to prevent prying ears from over hearing. “I think I’m ready to take the next step of commitment with Theo”.
Praying that she knew exactly what you meant.
“Y/N are you sure? I mean it’s completely up to you but I don’t want you to feel like you have too.
"No, this is all me…all my decision. Theo has no idea”
“Theo has no idea about what?”. Theo waltzed in instantly sliding his hand behind your back.
“Nothing, ready to go?” you changed the topic as fast as possible.
“Yes” Theo said taking your bag from your shoulders, so that he could carry it. Hugging Lydia quickly, you dragged Theo along to the school parking lot.
Entering your house, there was a note placed on the mini table near the door signed from your parents stating they got delayed at the conference and won’t be home until tomorrow night. What luck that was you thought. Theo followed you closely and didn’t need to be told to make himself comfortable, since his been at your house plenty of times before.
“So are you going to tell me what the conversation with Lydia was about?”.
Feeling your insides turn and twist, you eventually said “Just standard girl stuff”.
“Y/N you’ve barely looked at me since the car ride home, what’s really going on?” he was persistent you’ll give him that.
“I told her that I was ready” you could feel your heart pounding, while moving to sit opposite him.
“Ready for what?” he casually placed his hand on your thigh, having no idea the effect of that simple movement had.
“To take the next step with you…I want you Theo to be my first”.
His face showed surprise, that was to be expected considering none of you really talked about taking that step. And not once did Theo ever pressure you too, so it was understandable that it was taken a while for him to process what you just said.
“Babygirl I don’t want you to feel like you have too. I’m perfectly fine with-”.
Placing your finger on his mouth, you spoke. “I want to, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Theo I want you in every way possible”.
He hesitated, so you made the first move to show him that this was what you wanted. The rhythm was quickly found between each kiss, and you gently leaned back not breaking the kiss. It started off slow, mostly because Theo wanted you to be 100% sure. Once that was established Theo started to get more bold and worked on your neck, to find your sweet spot.
It didn’t take him long and the first moan that came from your mouth you pulled away embarrassed. Theo just smiled, “Nothing to feel embarrass about babe. That was such a major turn on”. Blushing things became more heated, tops flew off and he paused when he reached your jeans, unzipped them yourself to indicate that it was okay for him, Theo then slide them off along with his own.
“God your beautiful” he whispered taking in ever detail about your body.
Both of you were just left in your undergarments. You wearing a simple black bra and underwear combination, and Theo wearing grey boxers that outlined him very well.
“We can stop right now if you’ve changed your mind” he said.
“I haven’t changed my mind, Theo I’m all in…I want to do this” you reassured him again.
This was the part where both of you were going to be fully exposed to the other, his hands carefully un-clipped the back of your bra and he threw it on the floor. He mouth sucked on each of your breasts, and the sensation was odd but yet it felt incredible. Next to go was your underwear along with his.
Your face went wide when you saw how big he was. “Wow” was all you said.
“I hope that’s a good wow” he chuckled and kissed along your neck, biting down on your sweet spot. “It’s a very, very good wow” you responded, starching down his back.
“Are you ready?” he asked, taking out protection wrapping it around and position himself at your entrance.
“Just go slow, okay”
The feeling was unlike anything you could describe, how connected you felt to him at this very moment was amazing. Indicating that it was okay for him to move, he let you get use to the pace and him before the pleasure sensors hit and nothing could stop the two of you from repeating each others name over and over.
“That was…I can’t even find words to describe how amazing that was. Theo I’m glad you were my first” you told him.
Kissing the top of your head he pulled you close allowing your body to fit perfectly in his. Tonight was without a doubt a moment that neither of you would ever forget.
“Here we fucking are! Your new home sweet fucking home”, Negan chuckled enthusiastic as he helped you out of the truck. The dimmed dusk light let you see a huge building in front of you and your eyes began to roam over it before loud groans let you flinch up and turn around immediately. “No worries, Sweetheart. They’re just here to defend this place. Keeping enemies out and shit, they’re no threat to you or me”, he said as you looked at the cage that was filled with walkers, some of them tied to the fence, others stuck on sticks. You slowly nodded, watching the fence warily before you heard Negan’s voice again. “Come on. Gotta show you your room”, he said with a wink before you nodded again, felt how he laid one hand on your back to lead you into the right direction before you began to walk.
You made your way through the rather cold hallways of the Sanctuary as you saw a bigger group of men standing in a corner and you felt how your body tensed up. Your problems with a lot of people around you hadn’t changed, the drive here, with a big bunch of strangers, had cost you a lot of energy already, even though you had a good feeling about Negan. As one of the men’s eyes caught Negan they immediately sunk to their knees and made you look half bewildered, half questioning at Negan. “Way of paying respect. Nothing fucking works without respect and rules”, Negan said as he walked with you past the men as if it was the most normal thing in the whole world and made you wonder if he would expect you to do this too in near future. He was kind and charming towards you but the way his men looked at him and behaved when he was around told you that they didn’t just respect him, they feared him and there had to be reasons for that. “All right, here we are”, he said as he stood in front of a door, opened it and held it open for you to walk in. “No need to be shy”, he said with a small smirk as he nodded in and you slowly walked into the apartment.
“Sir?”, you had a male voice call as soon as you stood in the room right before Negan huffed slightly and turned to the door. “Yeah? What the fuck is it?”, Negan answered the call with an annoyed undertone before one of the men who had been part of the group who had found you stood in the doorframe. “I got what you asked for”, the man said as he got some blank papers and a pen out of his bag. “Ah, thanks for this shit”, Negan said as he walked towards him and took the thing out of his hands before the man nodded and walked away.
Negan shut the door before he turned around and walked back to you. “Alright, I don’t know how this works for you. But if you feel fucking comfortable with it, you can write anything you wanna say down. If you can’t do that or don’t want to, hell if you just can while you’re alone or anything else, listen that’s perfectly fine with me too”, he said placing the pen and a few sheets of paper on the small table. You nodded slowly and gave him thankful smile. Of course, it was just a pen and paper sheets but he could just not care about it as well. And next to that, every little thing someone did for you now, after being so long alone and seeing what people can do to others, that was quite something for you. There were things you wanted to ask him, even tell him but you didn’t know yet if writing was the same thing with speaking. You didn’t know what kind of games your mind was playing with you. From before, you had already known about traumas turning people mute but neither you had ever thought that would happen to you nor you knew what exactly applied to you. Everything was changed after things went bad, there was no lead or clue you could follow after unthinkable things like that had happened.
“Okay, so I’ll get you some damn food now. Take your time, write something or not, no pressure”, he said before he turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. You still asked yourself why he was being that nice to you, maybe he pitied you maybe you had gotten a little respect from him for being able to survive alone for so long and then even saving him from a walker, maybe something completely else. For a few moments, you stayed standing in the middle of the room before you slowly moved over to the table, sat down on the wooden chair and slowly took a pen into your hand. You felt how your hands began to slightly tremble, not knowing if you really wanted to know if it worked just due to the fear to be disappointed. You slowly opened the pen and stared at the blank page. Closing your eyes you tried to sort yourself, before opening your eyes again and staring back onto the white page. After a good while, you could slowly move your hand towards it and place the tip of the pen onto the paper. Your palms got sweaty, your hand shook while you could slowly write, almost carve, the first letter of your name onto the page while you felt like you were fighting against your brain that was trying to get in your way with every move your fingers made. Slowly, letter by letter you wrote your name out before you stared down to the page. A slight feeling of relieve created in your body, letting something of the pressure that laid on your rib cage escape. Maybe this could be a way. You felt like you had taken an eternity to write it but it was worth it. For the first time since something that seemed like forever, you could express yourself in another way than with your facial expressions, gestures or helpless and unsuccessful tries to speak. And at least he would know your name, that was better than nothing.
After a bit longer you heard a knocking on the door and a voice that sounded through it before it opened. “It’s me, back with some good ass food”, Negan chuckles as he walked in and his glance immediately fell onto you and the paper in front of you. A smile mixed with the smirk as he made his way over, placed a plate on the table before he pointed to the paper. “Can I?”, he asked before you nodded and he took the paper with your messy written name. “(Y/N)”, he muttered reading before he looked smirking up. “Now that’s a fucking beautiful name”, he said slightly chuckling before he sat down towards you. You eyed him for a short moment, while new questions and doubts shot into your mind. You got yourself out of it, telling yourself you shouldn’t overanalyze everything, but after being for that long outside, that was one hard job. “It’s not fucking poisoned”, he said chuckling while pointing at the soup. “Would be a damn shame about you”, he chuckled before you took the spoon and slowly began to eat, trying to take it slow.
Lil Emily is a kid who learned the art of deception and covering her emotion for the sake of maintaining a perfectly calm facade way too early. She escaped the place of her 6 month-long imprisonment and reunited with her father figure she believed was dead all this time, only for him to go on a mission again and leave her in an unknown place filled with unknown people, glued to a window in her little tower and unwilling to go to bed before he returns, until the exhaustion and the stress of the day take her over, only to wake up early the next day and make sure to be the first one to say good morning to him, be cheerful and be normal
***Warning: VERY ANGSTY*** I’m going to go ahead and put a Trigger Warning on this, too. If you’re triggered by depression, especially because of the loss of a loved one, you probably shouldn’t read this.
I’m actually very proud of this fic. And I hope you like it, too!
Fun fact: It was the middle of the night when I randomly decided to read the rough draft of this. I started doing some light editing - correcting grammar mistakes and all that - when all these phrases began coming to me and I started writing them into the fic, and before I knew it, I had finished it! And I’m proud of myself :) so I wanted to share that.
But anyway! I’ll shut up and let you read, lol. Feedback is greatly appreciated!
His hands clenched into fists as he stared down at your soulless body - dressed in nice clothes and displayed for tearful eyes to mourn over. His chest felt tight, his mouth was dry, his head hurt, it was as if his dark sorrow, which he refused to show to the people around, was manifesting itself in the form of physical pain. In truth, Soryu had experienced a lot of physical pain in his lifetime. Bullets, knives, punches. He had come into contact with all of it because of his job. But none of that stood a chance against the heart-shredding pain of this moment, which didn’t ease with time. He felt like screaming, like clutching his gun and shooting everything in sight. It felt like a deep, inner evil was bubbling up inside him, filling him with rage and madness and ever-worsening sorrow.
‘Why?!’ His conscience yelled. ‘Why couldn’t I protect her?! Protect her and guard her like I swore to?!’ He blamed himself. It was a bullet that tore through your heart, condemning you to death instantly. The bullet of a gunman of a rival gang that no longer exists. No, Soryu had those despicable excuses for human beings put to death at once when you fell to the ground in a pool of blood.
He replayed the scene endlessly in his mind, forcing himself to relive the moment when he allowed you to suffer, when we wasn’t strong enough to save your precious life. To some, it would be torture. To him, it was a punishment. It was what he deserved. He truly believed that he should have to live with the horrible guilt. It was the only thing keeping him from firing a silver bullet into his own broken heart. 'One form of pain for another, I guess.’
His eyes focused on your body. Everything he loved about you had been tossed away; your liveliness - forever silenced. Your smile - forced into a frown. Your kindness - never to be presented again. The color of your skin was drained into a pale gray. Your hair had lost it’s luster. The giggle you’d have given upon catching him staring at you never left your dry lips. A little subdued makeup kept you looking semi-alive, but everything else was off.
Soryu heard your familiar laugh echo in his mind, a memory that would surely haunt him in his dreams/nightmares. He stared and stared at your corpse. Finally, some tears gathered in front of those steely eyes - he blinked them away. He couldn’t show weakness, well, at least not yet. He was in public, he had to maintain his identity as a tough mobster for now. He resigned to wait until he was in the sanctuary and privacy of his hotel room before allowing the liquid sadness to fall.
A hand gripped his shoulder gently and comfortingly. He looked up to see your grandfather, sad smile on his face as he held back his own tears.
“Unfortunately, staring won’t bring her back, no matter how much we wish it could.”
“Y'know, Soryu, I would’ve been proud to have you as a member of our family. I know she loved you with all her heart.” He said in a tone that a loving father would use with his son. “I hope you’ll keep in touch.”
“I will.” Soryu gave the best smile he could, although he was sure it didn’t appear nearly as happy as he wanted it to be. He also didn’t like replying with such a short sentence. He wanted to offer some encouraging words, but none came to mind. Luckily, your grandfather understood this and patted his shoulder.
“I wish you all the best, Soryu. Live a happy life. She would want you to.”
“Thank you very much.” Still maintaining a smile, the man left. Despite his kind words, Soryu felt even more guilty, if that was possible. He knew that, no matter what they said, your family, deep down, blamed him for your death. As they should, it was his fault. His heart was touched at their kindness, but it also weighed him down. He didn’t feel worthy of their forgiveness.
The broken man stayed as long as possible. He actually had to be lead out of the funeral home so they could close it up. He just wanted to be near you, to be in your presence, as long as he could. He dragged himself home. Not bothering to remove his shoes or jacket, Soryu collapsed on the couch, burying his face in his hands. A second of silence, then a weak whisper of your name blew past his mouth.
“I’m so sorry, _______…I’m so sorry.” He apologized. Now that he was alone at home, Soryu let the tears slide freely down his cheeks. As a mobster, he was used to steeling his face, masking his emotions, but you - a simple woman - could bring him to tears in an instant. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but now he couldn’t even see due to the blurry vision. “How could I do this to you? You didn’t deserve it. It should’ve been me.” He said through quiet sobs. “I swore to protect you, but I didn’t. You trusted me, and I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. I’m so sorry.” All he could do now was hope that you heard his prayer up in heaven.
Soryu would never forget those days. The day you were killed. The day they had to put you in the ground. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. You haunted him like a ghost. Your face appeared everywhere, in every crowd, on every woman, in every dream, in every nightmare. He couldn’t forget the woman who had changed his life.
Time went on, but life didn’t. To Soryu, it felt like it had stalled. It was the same routines day in and day out. Manage the mafia, see to the auctions. Those were his only responsibilities now. He had nothing. When he lost you, he also lost all sense of true happiness. Now it was fake smiles at fancy dinners, small talk at parties, only acting jovial for the sake of entertaining others. In private it was a different story; dull eyes, bitter frowns, reckless alcohol. He got used to the miserable silence of his hotel room.
Still, there were some nights where he hoped. Staring out the window, he felt as if you were out there, somewhere, somehow. And at any moment there would be the familiar sound of the door opening. You would walk in, tired from a rather tough day at work, and collapse into his arms. He would cradle you in his arms as you both drifted to sleep, safe and sound.
But that daydream never came to be a reality.
He was never freed by an absolution.
Soryu eventually came completely to terms with the fact that you were gone. Forever. He allowed himself to fall deeper into depression. And he fell and fell. Until he was nothing but a shell of his former self; completely empty, closed off.
Life became meaningless.
And Soryu Oh was lost.
Even now, over 20 years later, in a field of gray tombstones, every so often there’s a disturbance. A rustle of grass accompanied by soft footsteps. Flashes of silver and navy blue break up the scenery. Polished shoes come to a stop in front of a tombstone. Dark eyes stare at the name engraved upon it. The sound of chirping birds and the gentle breeze fill his ears as he scoops down, placing a lovely bouquet of flowers on the stone.
True to his silent promise, he never forgot you. And he carried his guilt and love for you with him until he, too, was a tombstone, placed perfectly next to yours.~
So yesterday I went to Hershey Park and it was super fun but also Alot.
BUT apparently big amusement parks have quiet rooms inside of guest services! Hershey Park had a nice sized, air conditioned room with comfy chairs and free snacks, right close to some of the loudest rides.
It was perfectly placed too because I was just about to have a meltdown from sensory overload and it was right there. PLUS they didn’t ask any questions or anything. You just went up and asked to use the quiet space and they let us right inside.
We also got to skip all the lines and take the elevators because I brought my crutches and our one friend is also blind. So we got to skip lines and not have to do stairs or anything and it was super cool!
Anyway, my day could’ve been horrible but it wasn’t because people are working to make places more accessible.
With the majority of the team drunkenly stumbling around a
little too much to be considered safe for a mission, it was decided that it
would have to be Steve, Bucky, Peter, and Thor to take the trip on their
own. Tony was incessantly complaining
and whining to you that he could go, right up until he made it to the front
door of the compound where his soon-to-be-wife stood stoically, waiting to
shoot him down. You couldn’t contain
your awe as she never even said a single word before he was apologizing for
even considering going alone and promising that he would stay put.
The truth is, you won’t find another one like him. You can spend your whole life looking and you might even get close. Maybe you’ll find another blue eyed, hazel hearted boy who laughs into your collarbone, but it’ll never feel the same.
His hands will never fit in the same way, his fingers will never curl right. He’ll be too loose, too tight, too perfectly placed. He won’t be good enough and deep down you know it’s not fair to expect more.
What you’ll find, though, is something different, something new. If you let yourself you might fall in love with chestnut eyes that look like the night. Let him wrap his arms around your waist instead of your shoulders; let him in.
The truth is you never end up finding what you’re looking for, so stop looking for him. Stop missing out on all of the strangers you could be falling in love with because you’re too busy searching for a ghost.
S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #116