wander is not the kind of guy who owns a comb

owlsarereallycute  asked:

Hello, I was wondering if I could have an ask of a Dalish Inquisitor sneaking off in the Abor wilds and when the companion finally find them hours later they're surrounded by a bunch of halla just laying around them while they sleep peacefully, something they haven't done in awhile (Romanced please)

The Dalish are my soulmates.

Solas: High Approval: He’s been hunting for hours, but his skills are rusty and it took him far longer than it should have to finally track the Inquisitor down. When he does find them, they’re asleep in a meadow filled with halla, looking more peaceful than he had ever seen them. He can’t bring himself to interrupt. He smiles at them, sets a few protective wards, and starts back to camp. Then he stops. He looks at the Inquisitor, how peaceful they are, and he sits against a nearby tree. A nap might be nice. Low Approval: He stumbles upon the Inquisitor’s hiding place by accident. He wasn’t actually looking for them, just looking for a place to be alone for a while. He rolls his eyes at them. They looks so Dalish and it’s almost sickening. Despite his distaste for the whole scene, he leaves them in peace. Just before he leaves, he sets a few wards. It wouldn’t do for the Inquisitor to die during a nap, after all. There’s more to do yet. If Romanced: He’s been frantically combing the forest surrounding the Temple and the camp for hours, unable to focus long enough to dredge up his ancient tracking skills for a forest like this. When he finally catches up to the Inquisitor, the sight nearly takes his breath away. He’s never seen them looking so peaceful. The halla have clearly accepted them as a friend, as kin, lethalen, and are grazing peacefully all around. He wonders if the skittish creatures would defend the Inquisitor if a threat neared, and as he watches he thinks that they might. He walks the perimeter of their meadow, setting wards and making certain it’s safe. Then he settles himself beside his vhenan, taking them into his arms, and falls asleep.

Josephine: One of the scouts found the Inquisitor, and she thought it would be a good idea for her to go get them personally. Yet when she finds them, she discovers that she can’t disrupt the scene. It’s so foreign to her, halla roaming nearby and the Inquisitor sleeping peacefully in the grass. They look like some lost barbarian royalty. Just a few more minutes. If Romanced: She smiles when she finds her lover, asleep in the grass. It’s not the first time she’s found them taking a nap outside and she knows it won’t be the last. After a short internal debate, she winds her way through the grazing halla, careful not to startle them, and lays down beside her lover.

Cullen: He’s been searching for the Inquisitor for hours, worried that they’d been taken or something. When he finds them napping instead, looking more at peace with the halla than he’d ever seen them, he’s annoyed. But only for a moment. He understands the need to find some peace. He leaves them alone, but sends a couple of soldiers to make sure that their peaceful nap stays that way. If Romanced: He was frantic with worry as he combed the forest, and he nearly fell to his knees with relief when he found the Inquisitor at last. They look so peaceful, more so than he’s ever seen. He knows that what happened at the Temple must have been hard, awful for them. They deserve some rest. Rather than leave them alone, however, he lays down next to them and smiles, just watching them until sleep takes him, his hand steady on his sword hilt.

Leliana: She found them first, before the others. She knew where to look. She stands at the edge of the meadow, hands on her hips and a smile on her face. She considers waking the Inquisitor, but she’s never seen them so at peace. The halla will alert them if there’s danger. She posts a couple scouts nearby and leaves without interfering.

Vivienne: She clucks her tongue at the scene before her. The Inquisitor may be Dalish, yes, but they need to maintain their image. What if someone saw? There’s twigs in their hair and dirt on their armor now. She’s about to march over and straighten them up but then she notices how peaceful they look. She can’t help but soften. They deserve a rest. She returns to camp, determined to send anyone looking for them in all the wrong directions.

Varric: Aww. This is the kind of thing that he wishes he could put in his books but that no one ever wants to read, the quiet moments after the battle, between one crisis and the next, when the hero just needs to be alone. If he were a poetry kind of guy, this scene would probably be pretty inspiring, the Dalish hero napping in the sun with some halla. He leaves them to it, but lets Nightingale know where they are.

Iron Bull: He tracked the Inquisitor to their hiding spot when he realized he hadn’t seen them for a few hours. When he sees where they’ve been, asleep on the ground with halla all around, he just grins and goes back to camp. No need to interrupt. If Romanced: He breathes a sigh of relief that his kadan is safe. After everything that happened at the Temple, he was worried. But there they are, asleep in the grass like a wild elf should be. He grins as he lays down next to them. He’ll keep them safe.

Dorian: He went for a wander for his own health, to be alone after everything they just learned, but he finds the Inquisitor instead of peace of mind. He watches the Inquisitor sleep for a few moments, looking very Dalish, and thinks about his homeland. Then he walks away. If Romanced: He smiles when he finds his amatus asleep in the grass. They both needed some time away, then? That’s fair. He settles himself on the ground beside his lover and watches him sleep, thinking about his homeland.

Sera: When she finds the Inquisitor, she nearly makes a very loud comment about elfy elves sleeping in the dirt with halla, but she stops when she sees their face. They look so peaceful that all her ire fades away. She knows how much they need some peace. She leaves them alone. If Romanced: There’s her honeytongue! Finally! She runs up to them, startling a few halla as she goes, but stops short when she sees how deeply asleep Inky is. After a few moments thinking about it, she lays down too. It’s not so bad, laying in the grass.

Cassandra: She’s been searching for hours! When she finally finds the Inquisitor, she almost launches into a speech about recklessness but stops short when she realizes they’re asleep. When she realizes just how deeply asleep they are and how much they must have needed it, she finds that she doesn’t have it in her to wake them. If Romanced: After hours of searching and worrying, she finds her lover asleep on the ground with halla all around, and she melts instantly. It’s such a romantic scene, the sun shining on their sleeping face and the breeze ruffling their hair. She looks around to make sure no one else is nearby, then lays down beside her lover. She can’t resist.

Cole: He knew exactly where they were and why they were there. “Haunted, hunted, too much, too much. We didn’t know. Need to be away, sort it out. I’ll help.” He turns away anyone who might wake them, redirecting them without anyone noticing.

Blackwall: He’d been walking, wandering around and thinking about the Wardens when he found the Inquisitor. He almost went over to them, he almost just walked away and hoped he wasn’t noticed. But then he saw that they were asleep and he stops. They look so peaceful, even after what just happened and all they learned. Maybe that was what he needed, too. Just let it go for a little while. He leaves feeling better than he has in weeks. If Romanced: “So careless. What would I do if you got hurt out here alone?” he murmurs, gently brushing the Inquisitor’s cheek with his fingers. He’d almost left and hoped he wasn’t seen, but they were asleep out in the woods alone. He needed to protect them. And they looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to leave. He lays down beside them, gathering them in his arms, and hopes their peace will rub off on him.

What Happens in Vegas

What Happens in Vegas

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1261

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks)

The story is for (@winchester-writes) #Rose’s Birthday Drinking Challenge. My prompt was Jameson Irish Whiskey - “What the actual fuck happened last night?”. The quote will be bolded in the story.

Rose I hope this is what you wanted and all the best for your birthday.

Thank You to @mycapt-ohcapt and @wereleopard58 for helping me with ideas on this.

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thatoneyoulove  asked:

Idk where you want requests... Sorry, here goes: I thought you were my best friend so I jumped on you, but it turns out your just a really famous singer trying to get some shopping done without being noticed. Sorry? Or I'm a cop and you hate it, cause you're always worrying about me, but I love that I get to help people, and we try to work it out. Fluffy and worrying. Idk, those were bad, I'm sorry! But love your writing!!! And thank you, sorry if this is the wrong place.

A/N Thank you so much for your requests!! They are both awesome! This is exactly where they should be sent. I decided to go with the first one but may revisit the other at a later date because it seems pretty cool. Thank you for reading my stuff, I hope you enjoy this!

Jumped

Thirty minutes late. I sighed, pulling out my phone and verifying the time. I should be used to this by now but it was still frustrating. It sucked to be always on time, to stress about punctuality, and then get rewarded for my promptness by waiting for everyone else to arrive. My best friend, Oliver, was the worst offender. Knowing him he’d found some hot guy on his way into the store and was currently chatting up his latest conquest, oblivious to the fact that I was haunting the home goods store, circling the aisles in a random pattern and avoiding the workers.

“Where are you?” I texted him, considering 30 minutes enough time waiting to not be considered a nag. And really, to be fair (to me), it was 45 minutes. Like the neurotic freak I am, I had arrived 15 minutes early. The sales people in the store probably thought I was nuts.

I did another circle of the lighting department, staring at the ornate lamps on display and fingering the delicate tassels on the shades. There was a blue Victorian inspired one I was especially fond of. I was ogling the intricate embroidery on it when I finally spotted him. His back was to me but I recognized his slim build with surprisingly broad shoulders. His dark hair was covered by a baseball cap.

Sneaking up behind him, I put my hands on his shoulders and jumped on his back. “Finally!” I said, “I’ve been waiting for you for ages.”

“What the fuck?” I instantly went stiff, sliding down his back and stepping away, my eyes growing wide. Fuck! Oliver didn’t have an Irish accent.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorr…” I started to apologize, absolutely mortified. The words died on my lips as my poor accosted stranger turned and I was confronted by the bluest eyes I have ever seen. His forehead was creased as he looked at me, obviously annoyed by my assault. He was fidgeting irritably with a phone and water bottle in his hands, shifting them from one to the other as he took a deep breath.

“Look, I woulda taken a picture with ya. You didn’t need to jump on me.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, confused. A picture?

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Fic 458: Backseat Conversation

I had two requests for a one-shot where Scout is bi, and comes out to the team. This wound up going a bit longer than I initially intended, but I hope my Anons like it!


Scout’s knee froze mid-bounce as a hand slowly crept up to cover his mouth. Eight pairs of eyes stared back at him expectantly, if with varying degrees of actual interest as he felt heat start to rise up in his cheeks. From the front of the briefing room, Spy’s gaze veered on the edge of irritation.

“No, I had not considered the potential ‘wet t-shirt’ effect of approaching BLU’s base via the drainage vats.” One elegant hand slipped into his jacket to pull out his cigarette case. “But do enlighten us.”

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Bite Me (Part 14)

Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean (…a pairing is approaching…I know I’ve said this for a few chapters now…Slow burn, guys.)

Warnings: slight angst (self shaming), mild language

Overview: You were raised in the hunter life. You fell out of it. It wasn’t your choice to get pulled back in.

Word Count: 1,339

A/N: This is the fourteenth installment in my first ever fanfic. Time for a plot twist! Thank you @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie for commentating and fangirling with me (as always). These words, like everything else I write, are for me. Feel free to join me in the adventure.

Read (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13)


On the fourth anniversary of Uncle Jay’s death, I took off from work early and found myself curled up in my bed, staring at an empty web browser. I didn’t remember much about the drive home, just that I’d made it miraculously in one piece with a spaced out mind. My hands hovered above the keyboard, fingers twitching as my brain debated whether to proceed with the thoughts that had been plaguing my mind all day. Arlo, feeling my stress, snuggled closer against my legs and rested his head on my calf.

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Becoming Real

A/N: I got such Reidvez feels after the preview for episode 17 of this season, so I needed to do this request right meow lol. This was an anon request for a Spencer x Luke where they’ve been married for quite some time and are thinking of kids. They decide to go through a surrogate. Purely fluff. No ups and downs. Because that’s what I need after the last episode. XD @coveofmemories @hanny-bananny

P.S. I’ve got a little idea for a Spencer and Luke with baby follow-up, but I’m not gonna do it unless I have some interest in it.

                                                           —–

“Your bedhead is absolutely ridiculous,” Luke said as his husband pushed up from the bed. Spencer’s hair had grown out again recently and it was sticking out all over the place. “You’re kind of rocking the Albert Einstein right now. Except sexier.”

The longtime BAU agent just grunted. He was not a morning person. Luke was though. How they made it work was a miracle. But when he looked over to see Luke smiling at his bedhead, he realized why - because that smile killed him every time. “So I’m a sexy Albert Einstein?” he laughed. “I’ll take it.”

The night before had been fraught with conversation about how they wanted to go about starting a family. Adoption was an option. Surrogacy was an option. Artificial insemination was an option. A combination of insemination and surrogacy was an option, but after a lengthy and heavy conversation, they decided to sleep on it, saying that in the morning they’d both blurt out the option they felt might work best for them. “So remember what we said last night?” Luke asked, watching as Spencer nodded his head.

“On the count of three,” Spencer replied.

“One…two…three… Surrogate…by insemination.”

“Well, I guess that’s one step in this process that we’ve gotten out of the way,” Luke said, collapsing back into the pillow and rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “Am I rocking the bedhead too?”

He was - massively.

                                                           —–

A few days later, the men sat down at the table and started looking through surrogacy agencies. “This is so daunting,” Spencer said as his eyes combed through the plethora of possible agencies. “Where do we even start?”

“We take the plunge and pick an agency to look into,” his husband replied. It was the weekend, so they decided to dedicate the entire day to looking at agencies. 

Over the next few hours, they combed through agency after agency finding one reason or another not to go with them, until finally, Spencer pointed one out that might work. “What about this one?” he asked. “They are a national agency and they seem to have great reviews from people that have used them. They’re completely open to LGBT parents, and they can try and look local first before looking for someone across the country.”

As Luke looked over Spencer’s shoulder, his eyes glanced over the various web pages. Of course, Spencer was right. This agency looked like it would be perfect for them. “I like them. Now what?” he laughed.

“Now, we apply and then hopefully get to search through some files I guess.”

While Spencer pulled up the application, Luke found his mind wandering to what his husband had said early - this was going to be an insanely complicated process.

                                                           —–

Within two weeks, their application had been accepted, so they were allowed to look through profiles of possible surrogate mothers. “There’s another question we haven’t actually discussed,” Luke said. “Which one of us would be the donor?”

Luke had always thought Spencer, but he wasn’t sure what Spencer thought. “I would be fine with either of us,” he said truthfully. “Were you thinking either one of us in particular?”

“You actually,” he replied, much to Spencer’s surprise. “Why do you look so stunned? You have the genius brain. I want our kid to be a genius like you.”

“But I have a pretty fucked up medical background,” he replied. Luke hadn’t actually thought about that. They’d have to discuss it further. But for now, they’d focus on the mother. They’d been filing through possible surrogate mothers, for four hours.

They hadn’t looked up from their prospective stacks of papers for hours, when all of a sudden Spencer heard Luke’s papers fall to the floor. “What about her?” The woman’s name was Kailanni Carter, age 28. She was African-American and lived right outside the city. She had a near perfect medical background, with the exception of an astigmatism, which was basically nothing; they wanted to make sure that whether or not Spencer or Luke was the father, the mother’s DNA was as healthy as possible. She had two kids of her own already, and was looking to supplement the family’s income, while she raised her two kids, both boys. Each mother had to answer a question as to why they wanted to pursue surrogacy, and Spencer and Luke had purposely looked past women who were purely doing it for the cash; they wanted someone that was truly open to the idea of surrogacy. Kailanni however said she’d been surrounded by friends that couldn’t have their own children, and she’d been lucky enough to have two, so being a surrogate would allow her to help someone else in the way she couldn’t do for her own friends. “I like her.”

“Me too,” Spencer said. “Do we want to see if the agency can match us?”

“Definitely.”

                                                           —–

Another three weeks passed before the agency was able to get in contact with Kailanni Carter, but once they did, she and her husband Skyped with Spencer and Luke. They immediately hit it off. The only question they originally had for her, was whether or not she was truly okay with the baby being biologically hers. She said that preferably she’d be able to be introduced to the child at some point, but that if that wasn’t okay she was still fine with being the biological mother. Both Luke and Spencer had absolutely no problem with her being part of their child’s life.

“Oh my god, you guys are adorable,” she said, clapping her hands together as her husband sat beside her. “I would love to be a surrogate for you.”

“Yes!” Spencer said, turning into Luke and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Now where do we go from here?” This process seemed to be a never-ending line of achieving something and then going “now what,” but they were enjoying every stage of the journey. 

“Now, I start on some medications and then we’ll do the first insemination. Then hopefully I’ll be pregnant soon,” she responded. Apparently not all mothers hated being pregnant. Anyone they knew had started losing their minds being pregnant pretty early on, but Kailanni said she enjoyed each and every second she was pregnant with her boys. “Probably on account of the fact that I was never sick,” she laughed.

“We really can’t thank you enough.” Luke slunk his arm around Spencer’s shoulder and pulled him close. They’d been married for nearly four years now, and had been discussing a family since the very beginning. It was finally starting to become real. 

                                                           —–

For nearly four weeks, Kailanni went on medications that would help the process along, until finally they were ready. After much deliberation, they’d decided that it was best for the biological father to be Luke. With schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s running in his background, he didn’t want to take the chance of passing that onto his child.

Neither Spencer nor Luke could make it to the original doctor’s appointment, but they both vowed that if this took, one of them would be there for every doctor’s appointment during the course of the pregnancy. “We have about two weeks until we’ll find out whether or not she’s pregnant,” Luke said to the rest of the team.

“I can’t believe someone is gonna have your kid, newbie,” Garcia laughed playfully.

He cut his eyes at her. They’d been working together for four years now, and yet somehow he was still newbie. “It’s gonna be a long two weeks.”

                                                            —–

Spencer and Luke had nearly combusted with joy when Kailanni called 17 days later to tell them that she was pregnant. “I have my first appointment with the OBGYN in two days.”

“Well,” Luke started, throwing a balled up piece of paper towards his husband’s desk. “I guess since I’m the bio dad, it’s only fair that you get to go to the first doctor’s appointment.”

Kailanni’s husband was at work during the appointment, so it was only her and Spencer, but as soon as the little bean-like picture showed up on the screen, both burst into tears. “That’s my kid,” Spencer said as he wiped a tear from his eyes. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she said as she grabbed his hand. “Here’s hoping for smooth sailing from here on out.”

                                                           —–

Over the next few months, Kailanni made a point to call every week and let them know how she was doing. “Baby’s fine,” she said, pointing to her stomach. “But I do have another appointment coming up in three days and I think both of you should be there. That is, if you plan on finding out the sex of the baby.”

“Oh definitely…right?” Spencer asked hopefully. He really didn’t want to wait, but he would if Luke really wanted to. “We’re going right?”

“Yes, we’ll be there.”

The following three days ground down to a snail’s pace. Everyone on the team noticed. “You get to find out the sex of the baby tomorrow, right?” JJ asked excitedly.

“Yup!” Luke replied. “I can’t wait.”

That morning was filled with nervous energy, both fathers tripping over their clothes in an attempt to make it the appointment early. They wanted to make sure the baby was healthy more than anything else - that nothing had changed over the past few months.

Both of them excitedly hugged Kailanni as they walked into the office together and back toward the examination room. As the OBGYN put the gel on her stomach, she asked if either of them were hoping for either sex in particular. Honestly, neither of them cared as long as the baby was healthy. Undoubtedly, boy or girl, both would elicit the same reaction - tears, kisses and hugs all around. “Alright everyone, everything looks perfectly healthy and if you want, I can tell you the sex of the baby.”

All three waited with bated breath. “It’s a girl!”

Kailanni screamed with just as much as excitement as Spencer and Luke did - she’d never had a girl.

“Oh my god,” Luke said, swallowing hard as he pushed his hair back. “We’re gonna have a little girl. That’s so…cool!”

Spencer snorted in the corner, the tears rolling down his face as he realized that he and Luke were finally going to have the family they’d always wanted. “We have to start thinking of names now,” he said to Luke.

“Oh man, we do,” he laughed. “That’s going to be really hard.”

                                                          —–

After finding out they were going to have a girl, both fathers went to work crafting the perfect nursery. Neither of them was really into the traditional pink and white, so they went with white as a base and baby green and purple for the colors. Above the crib was her name, which they’d debated on for nearly a month, finally picking the perfect name, Diana Kailanni, after Spencer’s mother and their surrogate, who without none of this would be possible. 

She broke down when she visited and saw the nursery. “You’re naming the baby after me!?”

“We couldn’t do this without you,” Spencer said. “Literally.” She was just weeks away from delivering baby Diana. For the rest of the day, she spent time with both men, going over everything they might need to know as new parents.

“I’m telling you both right now,” she laughed, “when you first bring her home, you are going to have zero idea of what you’re doing. Don’t get scared. It comes to you more quickly than you think.”

Within two-to-three weeks, they were going to be a family.

                                                         —–

It was barely 3:30 AM when Luke was woken up by his phone nearly two and a half weeks later. “Babe,” he said, waking up a sleeping Spencer, “Wake up. Baby’s coming.”

“Oh shit,” he said, popping up and tripping into the closet where his clothes were. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

They probably shouldn’t have abused their power as officers, but they did, ensuring that no one would get in their way, even at 3:30 AM, by putting the siren on top of the car. As they walked in, they were ushered into the room where Kailanni and her husband were. Having already had two kids, she was fairly far along, so Diana would be coming sooner rather than later. “How are you feeling?” Luke asked, feeling horrible as she experienced another contraction. 

“Not too bad actually,” she said through clenched teeth. “I felt worse with the boys, and she’s going to come much more quickly than they did.”

Spencer remembered her telling them that she had been in labor for nearly 36 hours with her first son and just under 24 with the second, so given that she was going to go from water breaking to delivering in about eight hours total, she counted her blessings. “Okay, let’s check and see how far along we are,” the OBGYN said as she walked in. While she was getting checked out, her husband held her one hand while Spencer and Luke took turns holding the other. “You are ready to go,” she said. “Are you all actually ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Spencer laughed. The room was filled with screams and cries, but only for about 20 minutes. When she pushed for the last time, Spencer was holding her hand while Luke watched as their child was born.

“She’s here!” he said excitedly, pumping his fists in the air. “She’s beautiful.”

Kailanni and Spencer dissolved into tears and Luke soon followed, until everyone in the room, including the OBGYN, were flooded in tears. “You guys are very lucky,” the doctor said. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you so much, Kailanni,” Luke said, placing the baby in her arms after kissing his husband. “As long as you want to be involved in her life, we want you to be there.”

With tears in her eyes, a mixture of both sad and happy, she cradled the little girl in her arms. She was so glad she was able to do this for someone, even though it would be hard to let her go. “I’d be honored to watch her grow up,” she said. “You’re both going to make great parents.”

“Muddy Waters”

The lovely @squeakowl offered to let her first smutty one-shot be featured on this blog so here it is! It’s also on Ao3 if you’d prefer to read it there and to get give this lovely writer some kudos


“Hey Cat!” Maggie’s drawl broke the silence, and Catherine Baker dropped the feather she had been trying for the last ten minutes to affix to the shaft of one of her arrows. The feather was warped, and she didn’t have enough glue, so she very much needed to make the repair work. But some other time, because it was starting to irritate her, and her work always got sloppy if she got frustrated. She couldn’t afford sloppy when her arrows were all that stood between her and starvation. Or being walker chow.

With a sigh she picked it up off her lap and set it aside for the moment. “What, Maggie?” Cat tried to keep her annoyance out of her voice.

“T-Dog found a little lake in the woods, and it looks like it’s thawed. Cold as hell, but safe. We’re all gonna go in pairs so we can get clean. You coming?” Cat was immediately on her feet. It had been a long, uncommonly cold winter, which, despite the fortuitous fact that cold seemed to slow walkers down, had resulted in most of the group being reluctant to strip down and partake in any sort of bathing. Consequently, they all smelled almost as bad as the walkers. You got used to it, though.

“Definitely, I’ll put all this away and meet you by the cars?” Maggie nodded and disappeared out the tent flap. Shortly after, Cat wandered out of the woods and into the clearing with the cars, with her quiver, bow, and knapsack stuffed with relatively clean clothing, some towels, and a bar of soap. Her dark curls where clipped back, framing her pale face.

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Finding Neverland (6/?)

Summary: History has a funny way of repeating itself. Juliet Jones learns this the hard way as she finds herself thrown decades into the past, and tasked with ensuring that her parents fall in love. (CS movie redux) 

Notes: Praise hands to @unfolded73 for the beta!

Read on AO3.

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Emma forgets Neal is dead.  

There’s a dark humor to be found in that, how she had once wished for nothing more than for him to die, and now that he is, she forgets. For so long while he was alive, he haunted her, a ghost or shadow that would remind her how foolish it is to trust others with her heart. It only ends up broken. She carried a torch for him for a decade, but now that he’s gone, it’s like a weight has been lifted.

She feels guilty at that. He’s dead. Gone. People don’t come back from death. It’s permanent. She should feel upset, or more upset than she does. Her mother acts suitably distraught, like she is grieving more than Emma, the one who loved him, the one he left behind. Even Hook sounds more broken over Neal being gone than she. But at least he has – had – a connection to him.

“He gets it from his mother.”

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tiny twink looking 4 big dicked daddy

Levi posts an ad on craigslist in the personals section. Somehow, he’s lucky enough to get Erwin. (nsfw, daddy kink)

This is stupid. This is so stupid. I’m going to get murdered. Shit-

Levi’s thoughts were racing as he stood outside his hook-up’s apartment - Smith was the guy’s name, right? - trying to build up the courage to knock on his door.

Admittedly, posting an ad on craigslist at four in the morning three days ago titled ‘tiny twink looking 4 big dicked daddy’ probably hadn’t been his brightest idea, but actually responding to one of the messages he’d gotten and going to the dude’s house wasn’t either.

Here he was though, on his fucking doorstep because he’d been hot in his picture and polite in his e-mails. Physically, he appeared to be exactly Levi’s type: tall, blonde, athletic, and older than him, but not too old.

Not in his 60’s like the gross, wrinkly bald guy who had messaged him. Levi shuddered thinking about it. No thank you.

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TF2 Fanfics: "Wing Fortress" Part 1/?

Part 1 of what will hopefully be a multi-part series of short fics, in the “everything’s the same but everyone has wings” or “Wing Fortress” AU. Partially inspired by Typingatlightspeed’s Centaur AU, with some ideas from HunterV’s art.

It’s pretty much what it says; humans in this AU have bird wings/tails, usually of a local species, and there are various myths and legends and cultural things relating to this, even if they have little basis in reality. And while some people can fly, it’s considered an exceptional talent, and being able to sustain flight is on par with being a professional athlete.

Content Warnings: some implied ‘adult’ stuff, one story has some body horror. No pairings yet, but there might be in future installments.

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TransGirl!Adrien/Chat Noir AU

Okay okay maybe I’m the only one picturing this because I started watching the show after I saw some gifsets and I originally thought that Chat Noir was a girl, but I got this stuck in my head and I can’t stop thinking about Adrien as a girl.
So Transgirl!Adrien/Chat Noir AU?
(I know this is long as hell but bear with me.)

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Peter Weeds out the Lost Boys or I’ve Been Listening to a lot of Halsey

And all the kids cried out

“please stop, you’re scaring me

It had been difficult to sleep that night. And it was not just because of how harsh the wind was – cutting into her arms, making them raw and sore, and reminding her of how she barely had a real nightgown much less anything else – or the depressing fact that her makeshift shack had been burned down and trampled in one of his moods. It was a combination of all of those things. And much, much worse.

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MMFD fic: “Always Travelin' But Not In Love (So Please Be Kind If I'm a Mess)”

“Chop and Iz, Finn and Rae, everyone together and happy and in love, no one is hurting or breaking up or running away. He loves them so much his heart is bursting. He just sometimes wishes they weren’t so… coupley.”
Archie knows he should settle for what he can get, and not develop crushes on boys he can never have.

Third story following “Bright Young Things” and “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright”. This might eventually be a proper series with some major plot lines for some long neglected characters.

Thank you, lovely friend and hand-holder (and beta-reader to the stars), @madfatty​​, for telling me again and again for over a year that I can just post this story even if the entire series isn’t written yet. You’ll make a writer of me yet.

And to @how-ardently​​. I love you to bits, girl, even though you ruined my original title with your gross imagination ;)

Current title is taken from Rufus Wainwright lyrics (“Oh, What a World” / “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk”.


Always Travelin’ But Not In Love (So Please Be Kind If I’m a Mess)

It’s funny how you can know someone for years and not really notice they’re male, let alone a fine, mouth-watering specimen of manhood.

It starts in the lunch queue. Reaching for the greens, Archie notices the hand of a guy queuing behind him. Slender musician’s fingers, sexy veins delicately crossing and stretching as the guy reaches for the pudding. A thin leather strip round the wrist, along with a simple black string that’s tied in a loose knot, and the whole thing is kinda hot. Archie looks up to see to whom this lovely appendage is appended, and is taken aback. Adam Blackwell? He’s known him since primary school, and has never entertained any sinful thoughts about him.

But looking at him now, seems like the summer has been good to Adam. He’s taller, more angular. Under his baggy clothes everything looked firm and tight.

Didn’t he used to be a spotty geek? And he used to comb his hair backwards, but now there is a wave of gorgeous black hair pouring over one eye. He’s wearing thick-rimmed glasses, and apparently sometime during the long seconds that Archie’s spent staring at him, Adam has been staring right back.

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Xavierine Sugar Daddy AU - Part 2

Okay, this is more of the sequel that I’m NOT writing right now to my Rentboy AU. Because of reasons (i.e. I have RL work that I don’t want to do and this came out instead). Also yes I went with En Sabah Nur/Charles for this fic LOL :D

Part 1 is here

——-

Logan sighs. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Victor says with a shrug. “But it’s good money either way. And if you’re lucky…you might get a good show.”

“What the fuck does that mean? Your boss some kind of pervert or something?”

Victor shakes his head and sighs, looking vaguely disappointed. “Ha, I wish. But he does like to dress the pretty boy toy up in tight clothes and take him on holidays where he lounges around in nothing but a barely there speedo. I’ve got enough wank material stored up for the next five years.”

“Jesus, Vic,” he snarls. “I don’t fucking need to hear that shit.”

But Victor just throws his head back and howls with laughter, before pulling a card out of his jacket pocket and scribbling an address on the back. “Meet me here tomorrow at 2 o’clock,” he says, shoving the card in Logan’s hand. “Boss is taking time off to take his bitch out to celebrate…something. I don’t know I wasn’t listening. Anyway, put on a fucking suit and comb your hair.”

“Fuck you,” he answers, which is his knee jerk response to pretty much anything Victor suggests. “Who cares about my fucking hair? He ain’t auditioning me to be his whore.”

Victor snorts, but then his eyes narrow in warning. “I’m sticking my neck out for you here Jimmy, introducing you to my boss. Don’t fuck this up.”

He does know how much it means for Victor to do this, risking his own livelihood, having never been very good himself at holding down a decent job for long. And it does sound like good money for pretty easy work, and Logan’s never been too proud to take a job if it meant having a roof over his head and a hot meal.

“Don’t worry,” Logan says, finishing the last of his beer with a sigh. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

—-

Turns out he should have waited ‘til after the meeting, to make Victor that promise.

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Little Shop of First Meetings

AO3

Pairing(s): KenHina, KuroTsuki

Rating: G

Words: 3,354

Summary: Kenma gets dragged along to one Kuroo’s coffee dates, as the older boy insists that he shouldn’t stay cooped up at home all day. Instead of third-wheeling, he meets an overly-friendly barista to pass the time with. Non-Volleyball, Indulgent Coffee Shop AU

A/N: This is my first Haikyuu!! fic, so I hope it’s not too shabby! Also, yay! My first fic of 2016 ^^

The bells dangling from the shop door brushed against the other with a melodious jangle as two high school boys entered, the taller of the two having to hold the door open for his technologically-preoccupied friend, his large, round eyes perpetually glued to the small screen of his cellphone. Kuroo watched him trudge by with silent amusement, letting the door swing close behind them with a scoff.

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna walk right into a pole or a wall or something ad I’ll be too busy laughing my ass off to come to your rescue.”

“You wouldn’t let that happen to me,” the smaller teen retorted without missing a beat.

“Oho? Think you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, huh?” Kuroo chortled, giving his friend’s hair a playful tousle. “Well, maybe I’d help you out. I probably would. But it’d still be funny as hell!”

Kenma stared ahead at his phone, too absorbed in the game and far from the mood for banter. He was still sullen from the dreary weather, the crisp winter chill lingering outside. It was Kuroo’s grand idea that the younger boy needed fresh air, practically dragging him out the front door of his house. Had his friend not insisted on toting him along to what was ambiguously a date, he’d be perfectly nestled at home right now with one of his video game consoles. More than anything, Kenma simply disliked being out in public more than absolutely necessary. He felt far too exposed.

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Another Drarry Drabble

I was talking to justanotherdrarryblog about how I hate when Draco is made out to be really feminine and girly and this idea just came to me.

I love the idea of both boys being equally strong and masculine and each having their own sensitive sides without the need for a specific “male/female” distinctions.

Anyway an image of Draco, all dirty and doing some form of manual labour burst in to my head and i went with it. So here it is…

———— ooooooooooooooooooo ————

Making his way up towards the castle from Hogsmead Harrry kept his eyes firmly on the ground. He couldn’t bare to look up and see the ruin and destruction on the place he had considered home for the past 7 years.

It was a hot summers day and sweat trickled down his back as he trudged up the hill amongst their small group.

“You alright mate, you’re quiet.” Ron asked as he nudged Harry gently in the side.

“Yeah I’m fine. Sooner we start work repairing the castle the better.” Harry replied, smiling at his friend while being careful not to let his eyes fall on the ruins ahead of them.

“Well McGonagall is confident the castle will be up and running by the start of term.” Hermione explained from behind Harry.

“Should be, hundreds of people have signed up for the clean up and rebuild team so we should get a good amount done over the summer.”

Harrys stomach tightened slightly at the sound of Ginnys voice. Things were still tense between them since their break-up and he hadn’t been alone with her since he called it day on their relationship a couple of weeks ago.

The chatter continued as they walked through the gates and met up with Neville, Luna, Dean and Seamus. Harry could see many familiar faces standing around waiting for their orders. In the month since the Battle at Hogwarts little work had been done to the castle and the evidence of that night remained scattered around the courtyard and surrounding sloping laws.

Harry was glad that everyone seemed to be too busy taking their orders and separating into groups to lavish him with the attention that had worn him down since May. He was becoming tired of reliving those final moments for everyone and thankfully everyone here today seemed to understand they were amongst the scenes of many deaths and theres was a respectful peace and quiet despite the crowds.

“Right guys, lets crack on.” Neville shouted as he lead his team off to the Greenhouses with Proff Sprout.

Harry was left in charge of a group of 15-20 people working in the Great Hall. They used levitation spells to remove most of the debris but a number of younger students had volunteered to help and unable to do the spells they were lugging huge wheelbarrows of rubble around to back to be sorted and the good bricks taken out to be used for the rebuild.

Even using magic it was a tiring morning and the sun was blazing through the broken windows and huge gaping holes in the wall. Taking a quick break to grab a drink Harry wandered through one of the extra large holes at the front of the Hall which lead outside to side of the Courtyard.

He found a small group of people all lifting rocks, bricks and boulders by hand and piling them to the far side of the courtyard. They were sweating in the heat and it looked like heavy work.

“Why aren’t they using magic?” He asked Terry Boot who was also taking a break and downing a bottle of butterbeer beside Harry.

“They’re parents of some of the muggle born students” he explained. “They wanted to help with the rebuild and so McGonagall agreed to let them come along. They’ve been at it all morning they must be knackered.”

Harrys heart tightened as he watched the group working mercilessly in the mid-day sun. Finishing off his drink he made his way over to help them anyway he could. As he turned towards the back of the courtyard however the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

Draco Malfoy was there, in a battered pair of muggle jeans and a dirty tshirt, heaving up huge boulders with his bare hands and passing them along to the muggle parent beside him to dump in the wheelbarrow.

Harry didnt know which was the bigger shock, Malfoy getting his hands dirty or working besides muggles. As he stood staring he watched Malfoys wipe his brow which was glistening with sweat. The white shirt he was wearing was filthy and clung to his chest and back with perspiration. His hair, which Harry was used to seeing neatly gelled and combed was dishevelled and his fringe fell in to eyes.

He looked incredibly sexy.

Trying to reign in wandering thoughts Harry found himself walking over, catching Malfoys eye as he looked up from the pile of rubble.

“Potter.” He said quietly in greeting as Harry approached. Up close Harry could see the dirt on Malfoys face and the outline of his chest muscles where he tshirt clung to him. His mouth began to water and he swallowed thickly.

“I’ll take over if you want a break.” Harry said to the man working beside Draco. He looked at Harry with a grateful expression before heading off to the refreshment tent down by the lake.

Without speaking, Malfoy simply carried on as though the interruption hadn’t happened, passing Harry the debris he pulled from the pile and Harry tossed it in to the nearest barrow. Harry found the physical work was satisfying and they continued for some time without speaking.

Harry tried to keep his eyes away from Malfoys toned arms as he lifted the heavy stones. Memories of Malfoys body crushed up against his own as Malfoy clung to Harry for dear life suddenly flooded Harrys brain. He had thought of that moment as they escaped the fire every day.

He had been unable to stop thinking about the way Malfoys arms had held him, the way his breath ghosted across Harrys neck and his heart had drummed wildly under Malfoys tight firm grip.

He shook his head, bringing his mind back to the present.

“Why arent you using magic?” He eventually asked.

“I wanted to do it properly, physically, with my bare hands. I used magic to help destroy the place. I want to rebuild it with blood sweat and tears if i have too.” Malfoy replied without looking at Harry.

Remembering how he felt when digging Dobbys grave Harry understood exactly what Malfoy meant.

“I get it.” He said simply and Malfoy stopped and turned to face him. His eyes looked hard and blazing and there was an expression on his face Harry had never seen before.

He held Harrys gaze for a moment, a small frown puckering his brow.

“Thank you for returning my wand.”

“You already thanked me.” Harry said, surprised at the sudden change of topic.

“Yes, but not in person. It was good of you to take the time to return it. I am grateful.” He said quietly.

Harry looked at the pale face in front of him which was so familiar to him now. Yet the changes were remarkable. Harry realised he had never seen Malfoy without a sneer or a snarl of some kind. Gone were the cold grey eyes and instead Harry found a pair of wide, molten eyes holding his gaze.

“It was no problem.” Harry replied and was mortified that his voice was broken and hoarse. Malfoy had consumed his thoughts for weeks now and standing here in front of him now, Harry had lost the ability to focus.

He had no explanation for where these feelings had come from. He found himself looking for mention of Malfoy in the Prophet and he had stared at a photograph of Malfoy leaving the Ministry hearings for longer than he’d ever admit.

Malfoy took a deep breath breaking Harrys daydreams. He looked up to see Malfoy wiping his face with the bottom of his tshirt, exposing his toned, sweat sheened stomach. Harry cleared his throat loudly and tried to pull his eyes away. As he looked up, he caught Malfoys gaze and heat pooled in his stomach as he found a blazing look in those grey eyes. He realised he was licking his lips and his stomach tightened further when Malfoys eyes flickered down to Harrys mouth.

“Do you want to take a break?” Malfoy asked suddenly.

Harry nodded, scared to speak and hear the longing in his own voice. He dropped the bricks he was holding into the barrow and turned towards the lake and the refreshment tent set up on the banks. But Malfoy was moving in the opposite direction, around the side of the courtyard to where huge piles of debris had already been sorted. Frowning, harry followed blindly, somewhere in the back of his mind aware that following Malfoy to an abandoned area of the castle was probably not his wisest decision but unable to find it in himself to care.

They walked silently for a few minutes, Malfoy leading the way. The noise of rubble being shifted faded in to the distance and soon, all Harry could hear was their footsteps as they scrambled over rocks and castle ruins.

Malfoy stopped abruptly and Harry walked straight into his back. He briefly noticed the smell of Malfoys sweat, which was sweet and mixed with the smell of his shampoo before Malfoy turned suddenly, facing Harry and standing just inches away.

“I’ve been meaning to contact you Potter. To say thank you for everything you did at my trial.” Malfoy said quietly and his voice was unrecognisable to Harry. He wasnt drawling or spitting vicious insults. His voice was soft and quiet and hearing it made something deep inside Harry burn.

“I only told the truth.” Harry replied, not at all surprised to find his voice was a whisper.

“But you didnt have to. If it wasnt for you I’d be rotting in Azkaban right now, and we both know it. I wanted to thank you, i just, couldnt find the words.” He went on, taking a small step closer to Harry as he spoke.

Harry was rooted to the spot, fighting every impulse to lean in and close the gap between them. Trying hard not to try and make sense of these new and confusions emotions thundering through him, Harry took a deep breath, his eyes travelling over the face before him.

“I guess sometimes, there are no words.” He whispered, leaning forward slowly and inhaling Malfoys scent.

“No, there arent.” Malfoy replied and he suddenly grasped Harrys face, cupping it gently but firmly in his hands as he pulled Harry closer and kissed him.

As their lips met Harry felt all the tension and stress inside him unwind and was replaced with a fierce, burning lust. His hands came up to snake through Malfoy’s hair and as his tongue traced a delicious line along Malfoys bottom lip, he heard a loud moan of pleasure and wasnt sure it came from him or from Malfoy.

Desire thundered through him and he felt every ache, every pain he was carrying melting away as Malfoy assaulted him with warm wet kisses.

He tugged at Malfoys tshirt pulling it up over his head to allow him to lick a trail down from Malfoys collar bone and circle his nipple. His skin tasted salty and as Malfoys hands reached around grabbing Harrys arse and pulling them closer, he bit down on Malfoys chest, leaving an angry red mark.

Their clothes were discarded with a desperate haste and as Malfoy pushed him against the wall, he caught a blazing look in his eye that made his cock stiffen further. He wanted Malfoy, needed him so much it was aching. He dropped to his knees and took Malfoys hard, throbbing prick in his mouth and sucked like his life depended on it. He could feel the tremors of pleasure rippling through Malfoy as he gripped his thighs and as moans and whispers of appreciation fell from his lips, Harrys arousal soared.

He felt hands in his hair roughly pulling him to stand and Malfoys mouth was on his again before he could catch his breath. As he was pushed hard against the wall he felt the coarse stone of the castle wall rubbing at his back, in contract to soft skin that was pressed up against his front.

“I want to thank you properly Potter..” Malfoy whispered against his neck as he sucked Harrys earlobes, sending a shiver down Harrys neck and back.

“Mmmm…” He replied, unable to remember how to speak.

“I want to fuck you until you cry with pleasure and show you how thankful I am.”

Malfoys voice was almost a growl and Harrys stomach felt like it had taken a blow from an angry bludger. Malfoy wanted to fuck him? The thought terrified him and aroused him equally and his cock seemed to twitch at the mere thought.

“Malfoy,” he whispered as the blonde dusted light kisses along his jawline.

“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.” He heard himself say.

Malfoy stopped kissing him and looked up, their eyes meeting as they stood almost nose to nose. Something was alight, dancing in Malfoys eyes and he licked his lips before turning Harry slowly to face the wall. Bracing himself and trying to steady his breathing Harrys heart drummed wildly as Malfoy licked and kissed his way down Harrys back.

Not being able to see what he was doing was making Harrys nerves stand on end and as he felt a hot wet tongue trace across the back of his knees he sagged, resting his forehead against the wall.

Malfoy moved his tongue slowly up the back of Harrys thights and the sensation was making Harrys eyes water. He brought a hand up to stroke his now aching cock and he heard Malfoy gasp from behind him.

“Fuck Potter.” He growled before punging his tongue between Harrys arse cheeks and licking at his arse hole.

The shock made Harrys breath escape his body in one short blow and he was about to flinch away when Malfoys tongue swirled and made his head spin. He could hear himself panting and moaning and he would have been embarrassed if what Malfoy was doing didnt feel so incredible.

He grunted as Malfoy stopped and was about to beg him to carry on when he felt breath on his neck and a hand came across as Malfoy leaned on the wall infront of them.

“Tell me you want me.” Malfoy whispered at his ear as he rubbed the head of his cock at Harrys tight hot entrance. Harrys hips cantered back of their own accord, inviting Malfoy to breach him.

“Oh god, i want you Malfoy, i want to fuck me. Please, do it, i need you to it.” He groaned, the anticipation making him claw at the wall as his hands balled in to fists.

“Fuck..” Malfoy breathed across his neck ad he slowly pushed himself in to Harry. Once his hips were flush with Harrys arse he paused, taking short sharp breaths as he griped Harrys hips with hand. The other hand moved from the wall in front of them and grasped Harrys face, turning it slightly to face him. He found the corner of Harrys mouth with his tongue and licked a wicked, slow line before suddenly bucking his hips, thrusting in and out of Harry and pushing him in to the wall.

Stars burst in front of Harrys eyes and he hands were flat against the wall, doing everything he could to hold himself up right as Malfoy fucked him in to the stone. Their voices were broken as they each elicited moans of pleasure and as Malfoy pressed himself heavily against Harry, breathing hot breaths into his neck Harry thought of that broom ride and the heat from the feindfyre. If possible, his body felt hotter now that it didn then.

His climax was building rapidly and he brought a hand up to stroke himself in time with Malfoys thrusts. As he arched his back and pushed his arse against Malfoy he heard a strangled cry as Malfoy came hard behind him. The noise alone was enough to finish Harry off and he spilt his own climax against the wall.

Malfoys head dropped on to Harrys shoulders and his breathing was hard and fast in Harrys ears.

Wincing slightly as Malfoy pulled out of him Harry turned to face the other man, afraid of what he would find when he looked back in to his eyes. Relief crashed over him as he saw the same warm, open look that was there moments before. They held each others gaze for a long moment, before Harry spoke, unable to take the silence.

“I should be thanking you, for that day in the manor. I never did come and thank you properly.” He mumbled, still unable to get his voice to work properly.

Malfoy grinned suddenly and the sight was such a shock that Harry gasped quietly. He stepped up closer to Harry, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close until their foreheads were pressed together.

“Im sure we can think of someway you can thank me.” He whispered, as he pressed a soft kiss to Harrys lips.

You Do His Hair

I tried to write a preference and this is what happened, soooo, yeah…

Louis:

“Stop staring at me,” you giggled as you felt his eyes flickering between your furrowed brow and the tongue emerging from your lips in concentration.

“I’m slightly concerned by your focus and the fact that you’ve used at least half of the hairspray. What the hell are you doing to my hair, exactly?” His hands playfully nipped at your sides as you sat in between his open legs on the floor of the living room.

“Hush.” You continued twirling the round brush through his overgrown fringe. For the most part, it looked pretty good; it was just the pesky fly aways that wouldn’t stay put. In frustration you began mumbling to yourself, “Maybe I need bobby pins?”

“Woah, no.” That distracted your boyfriend’s wandering eyes from the teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. “You have 5 seconds to drop the brush, (Y/N).”

“What? No, no, no, I’m almost done!”

“5…”

“Louis!”

“4…” You hastily grabbed the bottle of hairspray and applied a continuous spritz around your work.

“3, 2, 1!” He wrestled you for the bottle and gave you a playful spray before running to the bathroom to examine your handy work.

You chased after him, socks sliding on the tile, and landed behind a confused Louis. He stood, squinted eyed, in the mirror smoothing down the sides of his hair and glancing up to the swirly quiff you attempted to create. “I wasn’t done,” you pouted as he continued to examine his hair.

“I like it,” He admitted with a grin sneaking onto his face.

“Really?”

“I mean,” he shuffled to pull you into his side, “you’re no Lou Teasdale, but I can see where you were going.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “If I knew you liked this look I would have worn it more.”

With an eager smile you faced his sparkling eyes, “Yeah?”

He hummed in agreement and looked at you deviously, “My turn to do yours?”

Harry:

You really shouldn’t have been messing with him during his first uninterrupted sleep after the Asian leg of the tour, but he looked so innocent, boyish really, in his heavy snooze. It had started with combing your fingers through his hair, but you later fetched your brush to very gently work the little knots from his strands.

It was nearly noon and you had been unconsciously pulled in by his gangly arms. His cheek rested comfortably against your tummy as you continued to comb your nails through his hair. Without much thought, you began sectioning off strands of hair and weaving them together.

“Wha’ ya doing?” his gravelly voice rumbled against your abdomen.

“French braiding,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you; I can stop.”

Just as you were about to untangle your fingers, his voice softly mumbled, “don’t, it feels nice… ‘Missed this.”

You continued on, braiding, combing, and re-braiding as you recounted all the trivial things that happened while he went away. You were well into talking about repainting the guest bathroom with your mother when you heard soft snores coming from him. Happy to see him so at peace, you proceeded gossiping.

“…And then I told her, she did not deserve that kind of treatment.” You were now attempting a mini fishtail braid with his locks. “If that was me I would have dumped him the first time he said such a thing to me.”

“Dump who?” Harry mumbled back.

“Tara. You know Tara, the one who brought the really great wine to that get together we had a while back.”

“Oh yeah,” you appreciated his half-coherent attempt to stay involved in the conversation. “She brought the asshole with piercings with her.”

“Yeah,” you combed your current braid out of his scalp, “Brent. That’s who I told her to dump. I couldn’t even imagine being in a relationship with such a judgmental guy.”

“Lucky you,” Harry finally sat up to peck your lips, “you have a very nice and patient boyfriend who doesn’t mind when you wake him up.”

“Lucky you,” you chuckled, “you get a whole month of me waking you up.”

“Can’t wait,” he lunged forward and attacked you in a barrage of kisses.

Liam:

It was honestly Louis’ fault that you were in this position. Yes, the little devil on Liam’s shoulder convinced him and Niall to nag a van and leave the venue. For the past three hours the entire team was frantically trying to find them. Now, 15 minutes before the show, the only boy ready to go out was Harry.

“(Y/N)!” Lou called out as she began fussing over Niall’s matted hair. “Please go help, Liam.”

“I really don’t think-”

“Ow!” You were interrupted by Louis and Lottie’s bickering. Lottie continued roughly yanking the brush through his hair.

“You absolute dumbass!”

“You’re going to make me bald!”

“You deserve it.”

“I’m so calling mom!”

“Grow up, Louis!”

“(Y/N)!” Lou refocused your attention on where Liam was mindlessly reading the labels of various hair gels, “Go help him. Oh! He likes the Crew matte putty.”

Feeling nervous yourself, you dug through the selection until you uncovered the clearly used jar of hair putty. “Sit down, you little rebel,” you directed your boyfriend.

“It’s alright, babe. I can do my own hair.” He gently caught your wrist.

“You have 10 minutes to do vocal warm ups, so I suggest you start.” He surrendered to the couch and you perched on the arm next to him. He lightly patted out measures on your thigh as he rehearsed riff after riff. Smoothing out your work with a comb, you leaned back to admire him.

“You’re an absolute pro, love,” Liam chuckled and nuzzled a couple kisses into your neck. “She’s a pro,” he began signing to What Makes You Beautiful. “Don’t know it though. Doing hair better than her own beau.”

You couldn’t contain your chuckles as you shoved him out the door. “Save it for the stage, you dork.”

Niall:

“Absolutely not, Niall!” you persisted in chasing Niall around the house to rip the newsboy cap off his head. “You cannot wear a hat to Tom’s wedding!”

“Watch me,” He challenged, knowing that you would never catch him in the heels you were sporting to the event.

“You’re being ridiculous!” you huffed as you cornered him into the bedroom.

“Then let me be ridiculous,” he shifted so that the bed separated the two of you. “For Christ’s sake, it’s a wedding, (Y/N). No one is going to be looking at me.”

“Niall, you cannot wear a hat with your tuxedo. It is a black tie affair. Why are you being so difficult? Surely you’re not afraid of your natural roots showing?” you attempted to joke.

“Lou’s busy.” He shrugged.

“What?”

“I called Lou, and she’s busy. I’m rubbish at doing my hair.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at the absurdity. “Do you mean to tell me that this entire cat and mouse game you’ve been playing is because you don’t know what to do with your hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you mocked his dumbfounded tone. “Niall, get in the bathroom. I will do your hair for you.” You followed behind him, plucking the cap from his head and tossing it to the bed, as you lightly shoved at his back, “and maybe, if you ask nicely, I’ll even do your makeup.”

“I don’t need makeup,” he mumbled with flaming cheeks.

He sat on the bathroom counter and innocently swung his dangling legs as you brushed out, backcombed, and styled his hair into its signature quiff. In a pure way, it was almost endearing how helpless he could be sometimes. You applied a lavish coat of hairspray before patting his leg. “Let’s go, Buddy, before we miss the ceremony.”

“Does it look alright?” he pestered as he tried to catch his appearance in a reflective surface while you drug him towards the front door.

You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “You look very handsome, like James Bond. Now move it, mister.”