wonder clock

Addiction is shooting up in the nearest Wendy’s bathroom because you simply cant wait any longer. It forces you to call your dealer at 12:03am because your money just came through and you’ll be damned if you have to wait until a more reasonable hour. It’s crawling around on the floor desperately hoping to find a random pill or speck of drugs you dropped. It’s not just because you cant wait to get high. It’s mainly because you cant spend another second rocking back and forth, staring at the clock, wondering how only 5 minutes have passed. Addiction is impatient, unforgiving, and manipulative. Don’t test it. If you go in thinking you’ll stay in control, you will lose, and you’ll never be the same again.
—  Thoughts from a recovering addict
Jughead & Reader: Trapped

Read part two here

Summary: You’re not the biggest fan of Jughead Jones and he’s certainly not your biggest fan. But one night the two of you are working on a project at school and end up getting locked in after hours. While waiting for someone to come and let you out, you and Jughead end up opening up to each other.

Requested by: suckerforjughead

Listen to: The English Summer - The Wombats

School was over for the day and while everyone made plans to go out and have fun on Friday night, you were stuck at school. You had to work on a project and needed to use the computer lab for research. Normally you’d go home to work but your sister was having a slumber party and there’s no way you’d be able to concentrate on your work while they blasted One Direction and danced around the house. 

You opened the door to the lab and saw a few people on the computers already. A few were broken and had hand-written signs on them telling you to use a different one. But the other open ones were taken. You sighed and decided to wait for one to open up.

Pulling out your phone to text your friends and to check some apps, someone left one of the computers. As you slowly made your way over to the chair while reading about a new album coming out by your favorite band, someone cut in front of you and sat at the computer. “Hey!” You yelled. 

You realized who it was and instantly became a thousand times more annoyed. “What the hell, Jughead?”

“The computer was open. I grabbed it. You snooze you lose,” he said as he set his book bag down and started to get things ready for some research. 

“You clearly saw I was walking towards it. I’ve been waiting for a computer for ten minutes,” you said as you put your hand on your hip, glaring at him. 

He shrugged his shoulders, looking at the computer as he opened up Google and typed in some information for his project. “Don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumbled as you kicked his chair and looked around at the other computers. 

“Thanks for the info,” he said nonchalantly as he typed away.

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aquarpisc  asked:

Hi, my birthday is February 19th and I'd love something along the lines of enemies to lovers Modern AU (smut) if that's possible. Thank you so much to all the authors who contribute!! <3

Originally posted by butteryplanet

Wishing you a wonderful birthday! To start you days off right, the always delightful @appleblossomgirl0305 has written this perfect bit of Everlark, just for you! Enjoy!


Rating: M/E

Trigger warnings: Logging operations? Heights? The mating habits of quail?

A/N: Happy birthday! I hope all of your birthday wishes come true! Never-ending gratitude to @xerxia31 for helping in every way possible.

Peeta hunkered down in his chair, swiveling away from the opening of his cubicle. He had two immediate problems; his editor was looking for him and he was hungover. Again. Plutarch Heavensbee was hard to take on a normal day, but with a blazing headache and already sour stomach, Peeta feared the consequences of a run in this morning.

“Damn,” he muttered, sucking a sharp whistling breath as he burned his tongue on his scaldingly hot coffee. Why did the little kiosk in the entryway always insist on making horribly weak, but ridiculously hot coffee? Maybe a better question was why he continued to buy it. But every time he walked into the chrome and marble opulence of the Capital Media Corps foyer, with its twenty stories of frantically busy, hungry machine of information and commerce looming above him, he felt like an imposter. He felt like every silk-shirted woman in her clackity-clacking heels determinedly running to the next important story, each shiny-shoed, cuff-linked man barking into his cell phone that he “needed it yesterday, dammit!” could tell he didn’t really belong there. That he was a small-town boy from District 12 who still dreamt of his parent’s bakery, cinnamon and dill-scented tendrils curling through his dreams.

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Come Home to Me


Request: Hey!! I love your writing I was wondering if u can write one about Y/N being a famous actor and being away filming a movie and Shawn calling her and telling her how much he misses her??

Word Count: 1,175

Come Home to Me

“And cut” the director yelled at you.

“That was amazing, y/n. The scene turned out beautifully. Such a pleasure working with such a talent” his kind words made you blush, but you smiled happily back at him.

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The thing I miss most about this show are conversations. After the first few episodes of S4 they just kind of…stopped.

Give me climbing a beanstalk and talking about love.

Give me offering her a drink and a sword to help mourn the loss of an old love and an old friend.

Give me Killian and Emma trekking through the woods dancing around their feelings.

Give me her asking him what’s wrong in the diner when he’s troubled.

Give me them standing outside her room at Granny’s talking about Henry.

Or sitting on a log in the woods discussing his brother and the supposed loss of her mother.

Standing in front of each other talking about how home is the place that you miss when your gone.

Give me talks about seeing the best in each other and understanding that walls are mutual and understandable.

This constant separation and quick milestone check off is what is really putting me off lately. This idea that the plot takes place and character moments are shoved in around it when it used to be the other way around, character moments came first, plot interrupted them and then they came back around.

The scenes used to open with them talking, then a mermaid hits the ship, then Belle comes running in, then they hear the scream of the Blue Fairy. Now we’re shoving in hasty wrap ups after entire episodes of nonsense.

Now I’m watching the clock wondering if they can shove things in with the 3 minutes we have left. And they can because there is no substance to any of it anymore.

We got two lines about what was a huge set of issues and problems before another proposal. We will never hear about them again.

It was Killian Jones Loses His Heart 2.0 only this time it was Killian Jones Has a Major Internal Problem Everyone Ignored Then Got Sent to Another Realm for Several Days While No One Cared Till They Learned It Wasn’t His Fault and all we got was a “Sorry I made it difficult for you.”

The moment was cute. Their moments are always cute. That’s down to my love for the couple from the moments that made them great and great performances from the actors playing them, not what’s happening on screen NOW.

Raeken’s Game

Theo x Fem!Reader

Summery: Theo brings his troublesome Beta (Y/N) with him to Beacon hills. When she starts to get bored and uncontrollable Theo creates a new game, involving the unsuspecting McCall pack.

Warnings: Smut, sex, swearing, heavy petting, flirting, teasing, Dom!Theo, Sub!Reader, oral

Part Two

“I hate it here.” You huffed and refused to be removed from the middle of Theo’s bed.

“We’ve been here for a week (Y/N), besides yesterday you said you liked it here.” He sighed as he walked out of the bathroom and grabbed at the clothes he’d set on the chair next to the door before his shower.

“I want to play with Scott McCall.” You growled and he rolled his eyes.

“No (Y/N), your playing is flirting with him till he’s ready to burst and then setting him loose on the town.” He stopped when you scowled and him and grabbed your leg so he could tug you to the edge of the bed. “He’s a True Alpha, you leave him to me.”

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anonymous asked:

So you take promps? Because I suck at writing but I would love some Jily kind of fluff when one of them comes home pretty beaten from an order thing and the other one takes care? That would be amazing!

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.


For not the first time that evening, James wondered if the clock might have suffered curse damage from that one time Remus had thrown a hex at it when the bird that announces the hour had jumped out and given him a fright. In Remus’ defense, the muggle clock was quite terrifying even now, when the bird was seated inside its little cage, beady eyes staring unseeingly into the distance. But it had seemed that it was still doing an alright job at telling the time. At least, until now.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Still 2:12.

“I swear you are doing this to mock me.” James told the clock, as he pushed his chair back and got up to pace around the table. He was more than aware that Order business could run late, and twelve minutes was hardly anything. Yet it might as well have been twelve years, with how slow the time was passing.

When James glanced at the clock again, it had moved to 2:13, which at the same time relieved and frustrated him.

“Why are you like this.” At this point, he wasn’t even sure if he was speaking to the clock, or to himself. Did it really matter when he was alone at home? Did anything really matter except Lily coming home safe? As soon at the thought passed his mind, he shook his head. Thoughts like that were a dangerous thing to have in the time they were living in. It was easy to let yourself get carried away with the fatalism, to just burrow your head in the covers and try to forget the world.


“Fuck, Lily, please be safe. Please be safe, please be safe, please be…” He strained his ears when a soft pop outside caught his attention. It had been almost inaudible, but he knew that particular sound better than anything else. He walked into the hallway, and pulled his wand from his pocket. Constant vigilance. Don’t let your guard down. Careful.

The protective layer that he and Lily had put up around their house a couple months ago vibrated softly, and then warmth flooded him as the magic recognised the person on the other side. The door opened, and Lily appeared, looking weary and soaked from head to toe, but on first glance, completely safe. When her eyes fell on James, a small smile broke through, lighting up her tired expression. “Heya.” She kicked the door shut behind her. When the lock clicked, and the protective magic fell back into place, James let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding.

“Heya.” James echoed, and moved forward to help her take off her coat. He didn’t say, “I’m so relieved you’re back,” or “I thought you might be dead,”, but when she reached up to cover his hand with hers, he knew that she knew. She shivered when her bare arms got exposed to the chilly hallway, and James quickly threw a drying spell at the jacket, before hanging it on the hook. He had so many questions, wanted her to lay down a play by play of her entire evening, to explain why she had been soaked when it hadn’t been raining for days.

“Let’s run you a bath.” He said instead, and Lily’s smile was grateful as she followed him up the stairs.


One of the best thing about their little cottage, James thought as the water was running, was the bath. With its clawfoot legs, and deep tub, it was the perfect place to lay down and relax. James and Lily had often shared a bath, sometimes accompanied with books, and cups of hot chocolate. Sometimes they’d sit and have a bottle of wine, and let themselves be distracted by each other until the water had turned cold and their toes and feet looked like raisins.

He poured some of Lily’s favourite oil in the bath, a warm vanilla-scent rising up to meet him. He dipped a hand in the water to make sure it’s not scalding, and then turned to Lily, who had been peeling off her wet clothes, dropping them on the floor. James figured they could deal with all that later, and just held out a hand to her, to help her in the bath. She gasped when she dipped in her toes, the water hot against her cooled skin. Yet as soon as she got used to it, she sunk down, the water rising up to her chin, lifting her hair and making it float around her.

There was no need to speak, not yet, and so James busied himself with taking up her favourite loofah, covering it in the blue soap that sparkled and hummed when it touched skin. Lily watched him, and when he locked eyes with her, she smiled again, and held out her arms. Carefully, James ran the loofah over her arm, from her wrist up to her shoulders. He took the opportunity to check her over for injuries, and was relieved to see nothing but a couple of bruises, that might just as well have been from bumping against the edge of the breakfast counter.

She moved up on her knees when James gently nudged her, and hummed in appreciation when James moved around to rub her back. “That feels amazing.”

“Good.” James replied, and dunked the loofah in the water, bringing it up to squeeze it out over her shoulders. He gently moved it around to her front, covered her chest in the sparkling bubbles, and laughed when Lily sank down in the bath, splashing some water over the edge.

She sat up and gently shook her head, getting some of the water out of her ears. “I’m starving.”

“I have some samosas left from dinner.” James offered, “some seitan vindaloo as well.”

Lily pulled a face, and reached for her shampoo. “That one is always so spicy.”

“Samosas then?”

“How well do samosas go with apple pie tea?”

“I can’t say I’ve had any experience, but I’m sure we can work something out.”


After shampoo and conditioner had left her hair silky soft and smelling gorgeous, Lily crawled out of the tub, straight into the massive fluffy towel James had taken out for the occasion. She sighed in contentment as James wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her dry. “Mm.”

When her skin was flushed and dry to the touch, he let go of her and opened the door to the hallway. The cold air was sudden, and Lily shivered. He gently nudged her forward. “Jump into your jim-jams, and I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Samosas?” She asked, already halfway towards their bedroom.

“And tea.”


The evening continued at that pace - James fixed her tea, stole a samosa from her plate when she wasn’t paying attention, and quickly rinsed the dishes. James let her wrap around him when they sat on the couch, and they spent half an hour listening to the radio. There was some muggle comedy show on, but no matter how much Lily loved these things, she didn’t let out a single giggle this time. So when it finished, James reached over to turn it off.

“Do you want to talk?”

She shook her head, then hesitated. “Not tonight, if that’s alright.”

“Of course.” James said, and smiled. “What do you want? Bed?”

She hummed contemplatively, and then returned his smile. “Another cuppa, and then bed.”

Relieved that, no matter what happened, it at least wasn’t severe enough to completely kill her smile. He got up to boil some fresh water, and asked, “Anything else, my fair lady?”

“Could you carry me up the stairs, my good sir?”

“If I do, I won’t have any strength left for cuddles.” He said, popping the teabags in the mugs. “You’ll have to make a difficult choice there.”

She sighed dramatically and got up from the couch. “The burden I have to bear. Walking it is.” She wrapped the colourful blanket around herself and shuffled into the kitchen, immediately attaching herself to James’ back. “I’m so happy to be home. I just- I still feel so… watched.”

James turned around to press a kiss on her nose. “You’re safe here.”

Lily smiled at him and when James raised his arms questioningly, allowed James to wrap his arms around her shoulders, the kettle whistling softly.

anthonykb  asked:

What are the chances this new doomsday clock story nonsense gives us any super wonderfulness ?

Prob 0.

Geoff Johns is in charge. Feels like DC seem to be on some crusade to make Clark and Diana together as a couple something bad. He implied them together in his JL run spelled Doom if we recall his Booster Gold crap. In Injustice they make them so out of character just to make them villains and dump the blame on Diana. Look carefully at the subtext. Two good decent individuals. Kind. Compassionate. Dedicated to protect innocents. Moral. Noble. They sacrificed their lives many a time for the earth and universe.  How can them together even result in evil? That some bullshit. Yet  creators like him and Tom Taylor are willing to toss their goodness under the bus for their human love interests. As if assuming just because Diana is of another culture or a meta human she can’t stay moral and she would mislead Superman. That he needs only Lois to keep him heroic. Diana is an outsider. An immigrant. Clark is meta too.. I mean is okay for Mera/Arthur, or PG/Val, Barda/ Mr Miracle, GL/Star Sapphire, Supergirl/MonEl and so many other metas to get together. But Diana and Clark? Oh no. They have to go evil to justify their human love interests.  There is a lot of xenophobia in their subtext and yet he talks about post US election and extremism and no compassion and olive branches etc. The guy and DC pushing those ideas that if you‘re different, people should be wary of you. If Diana is in this, based on this current group of creators, expect the  worse. They prob use her negatively again .For her sake pray she is not and I really would not spend a cent on DC until I know what the content entails. 

Teachable Moments (Coda to 12x12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)”

Dean’s driving Cas home when Cas has the sudden urge to take Dean up on his offer for one of his ‘teachable moments’. Dean, still dealing with what went down in the barn, does what Cas asks. But will Dean be the teacher… or the student? AO3)

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anonymous asked:

lazy mornings sleeping in with my lovely boy? I love what you've written so far ❤️

Thank you so much!

You’re half awake as you automatically raise your head to look at your clock, wondering why your alarm hasn’t gone off yet. As the bleary numbers come into focus, a profound sense on contentment washes over you.

Thank whoever invented bank holiday Mondays.

You settle back down into the pillow, and 2D’s arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you closer, cupping the back of your head and sifting his fingers through your hair gently. You sigh deeply, trailing one hand over his chest, tucking your head underneath the crook of his neck.

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Legacy, Phillip Hamilton x Reader

Prompt: Unprompted! Inspired by this poem: “ So maybe you’re a fool, headfirst in love / with ink beneath your fingernails. ”

Words: 701

Author’s Note: I know I already posted this, but I’m trying out a new layout! Let me know how you like it (I’m going back and changing the layout on my old fics)! I’ve also been listening to In the Heights like crazy so I would love some requests for ITH!

Warnings: Mentions of Alexander cheating on Eliza, comparison between father/son. Suggests the Hamiltons aren’t happy.

Askbox | Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

Six. He was a split image of his father, people would tell him. People three feet taller with tight corsets and large jewelry. He didn’t know who they were trying to impress, but he always wondered how heavy they must have felt with all that weight on their shoulders.

His parents would beam with pride, but that was years before the Reynolds incident. They were happy back then. Happier.

Thirteen. He had yet to acknowledge the girls who giggle when he walks by. It took him another few years to realize why they were giggling.

Everyday he felt heavier than the day before. He remembers the women with large jewelry and red lips. How they carried themselves under the gaze of their father or husband or brother. He feels that way whenever he asks himself, “What would father do?”

Sixteen. A girl asked if he would write her. He didn’t know what to say. He told her he would, but he never found the words to go on the paper. He wondered how his father did it.

“It’s not about the words. It’s about the girl.” His father told him.

He never wrote that girl.

Eighteen. He hadn’t written letters with, ‘My name is Philip-’ in years. Instead he neatly signed, ‘Philip Hamilton’ at the bottom of each letter. They were never to women, though he had a few options.

He would write to his aunts on special occasions, but he never felt the rush of writing he often watched his father experience as a child.

He wrote like he was running out of time. Sometimes Philip would sit at his father’s desk. There were distinct carves in the woods, where his father had a nice bout of inspiration. He’d trace the dents, watching the clock and wonder how many words his father would have spit out in the thirty, forty, fifty seconds that passed.

Nineteen. You reconnected with the Hamilton boy at a market on accident. You used to see him being escorted around ballrooms by his parents. He asked if he could write you. He’d never asked someone that before. You said he could, and that you would write back enthusiastically.

He rushed home that day, using his father’s desk and quill - the same desk and quill he had used to dig him into a hole regarding the Reynolds.

‘My name is Philip-’ He wrote for the first time in years. He almost crossed it out. He didn’t.

‘I am a poet, and I’m a little nervous but I can’t show it. I’m continuing a legacy, I’m afraid I can barely write to you legibly.’

He added many more dents to his father’s desk that night. He sealed the letter when it reached nine pages - which happened to be the age he first saw you - and realized he couldn’t wait for the post to deliver it to you.

He rushed to your home when the sun had been down for several hours. He felt stupid standing on your stoop, knocking vigorously. What would your servants say about the frazzled Hamilton boy showing up at your door unannounced?

You answered the door. He never believed in fate before that moment.

You hugged your cover up closer at the sight of him. You told him you sent your servants to sleep hours ago, that you couldn’t sleep and wasn’t sure why. Philip swelled with pride at the thought that maybe you had been waiting up for him.

He offered you his letter. You took in the sight of him. Ink-stained hands. Disheveled hair. Frazzled expression. To any outsider, he was a split image of his father.

You always thought he looked nothing like his father.

You absorbed his letter as fast as he had written it. You wondered if this is what Elizabeth Schuyler felt when she had met a young and spirited Alexander Hamilton. Absolutely and completely helpless.

He grinned sheepishly when you looked at him with something he used to see in his mother’s eyes at the thought of his father. He shook the thought from his mind. You weren’t his mother. He wasn’t his father.

Together, you were something completely new and different. You blew each other away.

Outlast II


The time was currently a quarter past midnight and you were ready to call it a night. Yes it was still early for Saturday night but you didn’t care. None of your friends were doing anything exciting that was worth bringing you along and neither was your boyfriend. He had been filming and out at meetings all day and honestly you were okay with it. It was the first time in a long time that you had a quiet Saturday night to yourself where you could have a nice pampering session or get ahead on your work load for the week.

You grabbed your phone and shot a quick goodnight text to Joe, something the two of you did every time you weren’t together for the night. Shoving your phone into the pocket of Joe’s trackie bottoms, you stood up from your spot on the couch and headed into the kitchen to grab some water when your phone started to ring.

“Joseph?” You questioned as you glanced at the clock again wondering why he was calling you this late.

“Hey love.” His cheery voice pierced your ears through the speaker.

“I’m about to go to bed what do you want?”

“What, I can’t just call my girlfriend after midnight just to hear her voice.”

“Not usually.” You said tapping your fingers on your worktop, “What’s up?”

“Would you mind coming over…and sitting with me while I film a gaming video?” You almost didn’t hear Joe as his voice was so quiet which made you smile.

“What game?”

“Outlast II…” His voice trailed off knowing that you weren’t too keen on scary movies either.

“Why are you playing it at this time of night?” You asked walking into your room to grab a jumper before pulling on your shoes. 

“Because Y/N, you don’t get the full experience if you play it in the middle of the day with the light shining through the windows”

“Get some curtains.” You bluntly before you were met with silence. 

You laughed to yourself as you pictured Joe’s annoyed face on the other side of the line. 

“You’re not funny.” 

“Well I for one don’t need the full experience and having another person there doesn’t help much.” 

“But it helps me. Please love I don’t want to be alone, this game really freaks me out.”

“Thats a really great thing to say when you’re trying to convince someone to watch you play a game.” You said grabbing your keys and walked out the door, locking it behind you.

“We can cuddle afterwards. I haven’t seen you in two days so we are long overdue for some cuddles.”

“Honestly Joseph, thats the only reason why I’m on my way right now.” You said getting into your car. 

“I love you, you’re the best. See you in a bit.” Joe’s cheery voice rang through your ears again and you could practically see him jumping up and down.

“Yeah yeah, see you soon.” 

The lift door opened after it stopped on Joe’s floor and you poked your head out, hoping Joe wasn’t waiting to scare you. When the coast was clear, you stepped out of the lift and over to Joe’s door. 

“Hey love.” You heard Joe call out from somewhere in his flat as you closed the door behind you. 

“Hi” You said moving into his flat finding him sitting at his work top, the YouTube home screen displayed on the screen. 

He flashed you a quick smile before opening his arms to you which you rolled your eyes as you let your body move you into his embrace.

“Let’s get this over with.” You said pulling away but failed as Joe’s arms didn’t budge. 

You looked up at Joe who only smiled before placing a kiss on your lips.

“Nice jumper.” He smirked admiring what the khaki color does to your eyes as he finally loosed his grip on you, allowing you to back away from him and turn towards the hallway that lead to him gaming room. 

“Thanks, you now Zoe has some really cool items on her website, you should check it out.” You said over your shoulder before you entered the room. 

You plopped yourself down on the beanbags that sat in the corner of the room as Joe took a seat in his chair, pulling up the game and making sure everything was recording. 

“Hello everybody! We are back with another episode of Outlast II. After the last couple of episodes I decided that I can’t film this series by myself anymore so Y/N has so kindly come over to sit with me so if you hear any other screams, they’re hers.” Joe paused as he looked and motioned for you to come get into shot. 

You pushed yourself off the beanbags and stood next to Joe and waved to the camera. 

“Really not looking forward to this or sorry if my screams are annoying.”

“You can leave the room if its too much love.”

“Then why do I have to be in here in the first place?”

“Because it actually freaks me out and its currently quarter to 1 in the morning.” 

“We should be sleeping” You said as you moved back into the pile of beanbags on the floor that we conveniently placed in a way the you could lay down and still see the monitor. 

“This won’t be a long episode, hopefully” Joe said turning back to his screen and continuing the game.

You watched the game for a few minutes, voicing your opinion on what Joe should and shouldn’t do but with either suggestion there was some kind of jump scare that you make you and Joe scream.

The game seemed to calm down a little bit and without the constant on edge feeling running through your veins, your eyes slowly drifted shut.

You felt a warm hand run across your face before you felt your body being lifted up and carried into a brighter room. You blinked your eyes open to find Joe carrying you up the dimly lit staircase to his bedroom.

He laid you down his bed before he left the room quickly, the flat getting darker before he reentered the room, closing the door behind him. 

He stripped out of his clothes and crawled into bed beside you, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling you closer to him. 

“Thanks love.” He said as you nuzzled your face deeper against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Mhmm” You managed to get out as your eye drifted shut again. 

“You know, you wouldn’t have to keep coming over here late at night if you would just move in.” 

“I wouldn’t have to keep coming over here if you stopped playing scary games in the middle of the night.” You said opening your eyes and moving your head to look up at him. 

The pout on Joe’s face made you let out a small laugh before you placed a kiss on his lips and nuzzled back into him. 

“Can we talk about this tomorrow, I want to go back to sleep.” You yawned. 

“Fine” He sighed as he kissed your head and allowed himself to calm down as he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of your breathing.

anonymous asked:

Modern!AU where Hawke accidentally calls a phone sex line and Fenris picks up. Things get interesting. (I have a weakness for Fenris's voice so I thought that would be fun)

I know this is probably not what you were going for, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Sorry for the wait!

“Do you think the tie is too much?” Hawke asked. Varric rolled his eyes up from his magazine. He snorted.

He said, dryly, “Uh, yeah.”

Hawke took the tie off. He looked in the mirror again, ran his hands through his hair.

“Stop that,” Varric told him.

“Walk me through this again,” Anders said, too casually. “You met this guy on a phone sex line?”

“It was an accident,” Hawke said. He wondered if he should shave. He lifted his arm and smelled his pit. Did he stink? It seemed like he was sweating an awful lot.

“How do you not know you’re calling a sex line?”

“Look, I – it’s complicated.”

The blond’s expression was flat. “So somehow you call a phone sex line, and don’t realize you’ve called a phone sex line for long enough to get a worker on the line, and – did you wait to figure it out until after you got off, or - ?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I fail to see how.”

Hawke paced. He checked the clock. He wondered if he should put on more cologne.

Varric seemed to read his mind. He said, “Don’t even think about it.” He returned to his magazine.

Hawke popped a handful of breath mints instead.

“We talked,” he told Anders. “We talked for hours.”

“And he charged you by the minute.”

“His voice is – it’s just – “

“Probably why they hired him.”

Hawke stopped. He looked at his roommates. “You guys think this is dumb.”

“You making yourself a wreck over some disembodied voice that already racked you up a hefty phone bill?” Varric asked. “Nah.” He didn’t even look up this time.

The doorbell rang.

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Anders said, following him into the entrance hall. Hawke stared at the door. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. “He could be bald. He could be old.”

The doorbell rang again. Hawke swallowed, and pulled it open.

Fenris stood on the other side.

“Hawke?” he asked, unsure. The voice was the same. Hawke’s knees felt weak.

His own voice came out a little high when he managed, at last, “Hey.”