yes he is a damn companion


I love Zevran so much, I can’t even descibe it. I mean first you’re just friends with benefits but slowly he and the warden really love each other. He’s so damn charming and funny and I have so many headcanons about these two.
I have an OTSF (One true savefile) for every DA-Game and in DAO these two are like the happiest couple.

I mean from every romanceable DAO-companion Zevran is the ONLY one who stays with the warden even after the game ended. He even asks you to stay with you, he tells you that he would storm the Black City with you! He doesn’t lave me like Morrigan, or has to stay behind to be king of Ferelden like Alistair or becomes a spy for the Inquisition like Leliana.

He just STAYS and accompanies you and I have SO damn many headcanons about what happens to him and my Mahariel after DAO. Dear god, I ship them so hard.

Yes, he also kills the crows and is maybe seperated from the warden because of this sometimes but the rest of the time?
Seriously, he gives me so many feels. He and Mahariel will be my forever-happy-OTP … until the cruel canon in DA4 proofes me wrong.

anonymous asked:

PRE-timeskip: Ace briefly meets Sabo, they don't recognise each other even though they both get this super uncomfortable feeling that they should've.

The tavern was filled to bursting – a good thing, Sabo thought, given the fact that he wanted to blend in as much as possible.

The fake beard itched, and the sunglasses sat awkwardly on his nose. Koala had told him he looked ridiculous, but it was all he’d had at hand, and it was either the ugly, fake beard, or stay behind at the safe house. And he’d been cooped up there two days already – and he’d told her as much when she’d pursed her mouth and put her hands on her hips, but she’d relented after she’d pinched his ear and made him promise not to get caught.

He wasn’t going to get caught. So it wasn’t the best disguise, but it wasn’t like anyone was paying him enough attention to notice.

“Oi. What’s with the getup?”

…damn it.

Keep reading

Like Father, Like Son

Part 3 of 4

Find the previous two installments here: Revelations, Discovery 


In less than a blink of an eye, she was gone. I sprinted the rest of the way to the stone she had touched, the screaming intensified then stopped. The wind had been knocked out of me and I found myself laying on the ground looking up at the orange streaks of dawn.

I groaned and rolled to my side, shakily trying to stand.

“Mum?” I croaked, the roaring in my ears seemed to echo off the stones, drowning my attempt to call out to her.

“Mum!” I tried again. Again nothing but the screaming roar reverberating from the stones. I scrambled to my feet and took off at a run down the hill towards the car, except it wasn’t there. The car was missing, as was any visible sign of a road. Trees grew in sparse patches across the grass of the rolling hills toward the water.

“Mum?” I whispered realizing with a sickening realization, she wasn’t there.

“Christ,” I groaned dragging my hands down my face. “What to do now? Think Brian, think! Where would she have gone?”

The momentary sunshine quickly disappeared behind clouds of gray and white, a storm was brewing. My pacing turned into a single direction run to a small cobbled, dilapidated cottage situated at the base of the hill. I made it inside the shelter of the cottage just as fat raindrops solidified and turned into snow. The air held a wet chill that seemed to seep into every crevice of the room, even the heavy wool of the clothing didn’t seem to be enough to stop a violent shudder from enveloping me.

I searched the room for any source that could be used to create a fire and saw a broken stool crumpled into a corner. Sighing in relief, I scrambled to the roughly hewn fireplace and sent up a prayer in thanks that mum took the time to teach me how to start a fire without modern conveniences. ‘A necessary skill,’ she’d always remarked.

“Where have you gone, mum? We don’t even know where Jamie went, let alone if he was still alive in the time we’ve arrived.”

Staring into the fire a sudden epiphany hit me like a sledgehammer. “Lallybroch.”

I didn’t know how many days ride or walk it would be to get to Inverness, let alone Broch Tuarach, but I wasn’t going to get there freezing in a hovel. Looking through the cracks in the stone, I watched as the snow fell then melted as soon as it touched the ground. I may just have a chance of making it down to the village before nightfall. But how to pay for what I need? My pockets were empty, but I patted them down anyway, as well as the cloak. A small jingling noise came from a hidden inner pocket of the cloak.

“Mum, you think of everything,” I said to the crackling fire as a poured small battered coins from a black leather pouch and a small roll of paper fell on top them.


I understand if you decided not to follow me immediately, but if you do find yourself going back, these will be of use to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t procure you more, but if we find your father and our family, we shouldn’t need to worry overmuch about funds.

I hope you decide to find us, my darling boy.

All my love,


My eyes burned with tears that were threatening to form. Why couldn’t she have waited just a few seconds longer for me to catch up to her?

The walk to Inverness was longer than I anticipated. Dark had fallen and if at all possible, it got colder thanks to the persistent wind. I hobbled into the first establishment I saw, hoping I could find something warm, a place to sleep, and a horse to make this journey easier.

A frail-looking hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, squeezing tighter than I believed possible, “Ain’t ye a wanted man?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

“Sassenach filth!” The man spat, “Be gone from here!”

“I’m not English if that’s what you mean, I’m from Am–the colonies.”

“Yer as good as ‘em. Crooky won’t serve ye, so be gone!” He threw my arm back hard enough that I stumbled into the door frame.

“Gibbons! What are ye doin’ to my customers?” A menacing man yelled from behind a bar.

“He’s a Sassenach, an’ claims to be from the colonies.” Gibbons spat at my feet, glaring. “It’d be better if he was that bastard of a wanted man. At least then he’d be worth a pretty penny.”

“A sassenach! Is tha’ so? Do ye have coin, lad?”

“Yes,” I said with surprising confidence. “Do you know where I can find something to eat, maybe a place to rest, and procure a horse? I will not be staying long, just ‘til morning.”

“Och, aye. I can help ye wi’ all of these, but it’s no going to come lightly.”

I pulled out a few of the Stirling pieces and handed them over. “Will this due?”

The barman’s eyes widened. “Aye, lad, tha’ll do nicely. What’s yer name, I didna catch it before.”


The man’s eyebrows disappeared beneath shaggy dark hair. “Fraser ye say? O’ Lovat?”

I nodded tersely.

“Yer a ways from Beauly.”

“I’m not headed to Beauly. My family isn’t too far off from here, Broch Tuarach?”

“Ach, yer wi’ the Fraser-Murray clan then. Good folk there.” He said, slapping a tankard down before turning around to snag a bowl of something from a passing barmaid. “Drink, eat. It’s no an easy ride in this weather to Broch Tuarach.”

I coughed at the sting of the whiskey, stronger and more bitter than I was accustomed. The warm burn met my stomach as the rich taste of meat broth met my lips. I wouldn’t be shocked if I fell asleep at the bar for all to see, nor did I care. My legs ached from the walk, my fingers felt as though they were frozen into a curl, and my head pounded from the whirlwind of events from today. Tomorrow would only increase the pain and unease.

The following morning, my head still pounded, but my body didn’t ache from the cold, yet.

“Here ye are lad.” Crook, said holding out a wrapped parcel and the reigns to a gorgeous brown mare. “Sorry I canna give ye my best stallion, but Butternut will get ye where ye need to go. She’s strong and hearty. This weather will no deter her.”

“Thank you, sir. For the hospitality and the horse.”

He let out a bark of a laugh, “Dinna thank me lad! Ye paid for the hospitality as ye say. I’m gaining a mighty better price than ye are wi’ my grub and horse.”

I shook my head and smiled back at the jovial man as I mounted the mare. “Thank you all the same.”


I turned in question.

“If ye see a Gwenalin Crook, tell her Archie sends his love. Can ye do that for me?”

“Of course,” I said puzzled, he nodded then slapped the hindquarters of Butternut and we were off.

As the days wore on, I was struck by the landscape before me. The mountains and the sky, such contrasts to each other were something from the imagination. The size and beauty could not be contained with meager words or thoughts. I felt as though I had stepped into the epics of Tolkien, White, or even Lewis. I could fully understand the magical beliefs and wariness of these people, and the stories that the land inspired.

I was so lost in thought that I missed the sound of hoofbeats and a man’s call until he was right upon me.

“Can I assist ye?” The man, who couldn’t have been much older than I, said as he stared quizzically at me.

“Oh! Yes, do you know if I’m close to the place called Lallybroch or Broch Tuarach?”

The man’s face lit up in a laugh, “Aye, but what business do ye have there?”

“I’m looking for someone and I believe she may have come here.”

“Do I ken ye? Ye look familiar,” He said not acknowledging my statement.

“No, we have never met. Brian Fraser,” I said holding out a hand. The man’s face went pale.

“Brian Fraser has been dead longer than I’ve been born. So who are ye really?”

My eyes went wide this time, of course, he wouldn’t know about me but his knowledge of my grandfather meant he must be family as well. “Are you by chance Young Jamie Murray?”

He went rigid in his saddle. “Aye, and answer me now, who are ye?”

“I’m your cousin, Brian James Lambert Beauchamp Fraser.” I said reaching out my hand, “James Fraser is my father.”

Young Jamie’s mouth fell open as he grasped my hand in a handshake. “Damned if he isn’t! That’s why I thought I knew ye! Christ, ye have the look of him. I’m surprised ye weren’t stopped by the redcoats on your journey here!”

I laughed, “I was accused of being a wanted man at a tavern in Inverness.”

Young Jamie let out a bellow. “That doesna surprise me in the least. Come on, Mam isna going to believe this.”

We rode in companionable silence to the estate, and I gasped in awe. The house, no longer dilapidated and condemned, was full of life and movement.

“Come on,” Young Jamie said, nodding toward the stables. “Ye can leave yer horse there, but I’m sure ye’ll be wanting to ride again soon. Ye said ye were looking for someone, but no one but trouble has been through these doors in a while.”


He cut me off with the shake of his head. “Ye’ll see soon enough. I canna wait to see how this unfolds.”

He leads me through the house to a study where a woman, hair dark and streaked with gray sat beside a man with a wooden leg, pouring over papers on the desk before them.

“Mam? Da?” Jamie said. They turned, eyes wide, and mouth agape, as though they were looking at a ghost.

anonymous asked:

Hey I love your blog!!! It's really great and I love to see what you post! Can I make a request? I don't want to sound like every body else who wants to make requests but I'm socially awkward. Can you maybe do all companions reacting to m or f SoulSurvivor proposing marriage to them? I'm sorry if you have already done it. Anyways please keep up the great work! I'm happy to see one that isn't just reblogs now days!❤️

Thank you so much! I know the blog’s been a bit dormant lately but I’m trying to find time to write for you lovelies again and encouragement like this always helps a lot so thanks friend! <3

Cait - She stares at them with wide eyes and her mouth slightly agape in shock. Sole is proposing to her? What the fuck? This had to be some kind of cruel joke. They could have anyone in the Commonwealth so why the fuck would they be proposing to her of all people? “Nice try, Sole. But I’m not fallin’ for one o’ yer jokes.” She goes to walk away, but immediately stops when she realises her words sparked that flash of hurt in their eyes. “Wait, are ya serious? Ya actually want to marry me?” When they nod and tell her exactly what they feel for her, she feels herself go a bit dizzy and has to kneel down in front of them to stop from keeling over face first. She stares into their eyes, seeing everything she needs to see within them, before murmuring “Yes” and immediately grinning at the feeling the amazing feeling the realisation sparked in her chest.

Codsworth - ERROR>CANNOT PROCESS VOICE/DIALOGUE INTERPHASE>REQUESTING CLARIFICATION “Sir/mum? C-can you repeat that please?” They were proposing. Actually proposing. To him. His optical units flex uselessly, expanding and shrinking while his metal appendages flutter at his sides. The Pride of General Atomics felt like anything but as he stared at Sole and processed their words. But before he knew it, he was already talking. “Sir/mum, I-I…yes.”

Curie - “Why are you kneeling, monsieur/madam? Are you injured?” She doesn’t understand at first, but when Sole pulls out the golden ring and gazes up at her with the cutest smile on their face and a question in their eyes, it clicks. “Oh! You are proposing to me?” Her hand flies to her mouth as her eyes start brimming with glittering tears. “Yes! Yes I will marry you, my love!” She enfolds Sole in the biggest hug, pressing delicate kisses everywhere on their face before letting them slip the beautiful ring on her finger.

Danse - He would give almost anything to have been asked instead to recite the Brotherhood’s initiation pledge, or hell, even Scribe Neriah’s biological reports on her pet specimens. But who was he kidding? He’s wanted this ever since he first told Sole that he loved them. Before answering, he’d hastily climb out of his power armour and take Sole’s hand in his while looking them in the eye. “Yes.”

Deacon - Two eyebrows raise high above his glasses as he watches Sole get down on one knee and reveal the gleaming golden ring. For the first time in his life, he’s left completely speechless. He doesn’t make a move or a sound for a few moments while he tries to wrap his head around the prospect of marrying the person he loves. But when his mind inevitably reboots, the grin on his face is all the answer Sole needs before slipping on the ring.

Dogmeat - Head tilts and a curious sniff of the ring. What on earth did Sole want him to do with this tiny, awfully shiny thing? He runs off to bring back his favourite big red ball, plopping it down at Sole’s feet and looking up at them expectantly. Now that’s a toy worthy of the pupper’s attention.

Gage - Marriage had never crossed his mind. Ever. But the prospect seems so good when offered from Sole’s sweet lips. So much so, that he can’t help himself as he pulls them up from their kneel, pulls them flush with his body and presses his lips soundly to theirs. By the way he squeezes their ass affectionately, they have his answer.

Hancock - Despite knowing that this is all he could ever have wanted in his life – a person to love, to come home to, to be his purpose for living – he’d still feel unworthy of them. Yes on the outside he doesn’t give a damn about being a ghoul, a murderer, a junky, but on the inside, he can’t lie to himself about how Sole surely deserves better than him. But they were asking him and everything Sole says and does is not without them meaning to, so he must be doing something right to have won their heart. The thought makes him smile widely and gives him the courage to lean down and kiss them softly, whispering his answer on their lips.

MacCready - He’d start blushing like a lighthouse when Sole gets down on one knee and presents the golden ring for him, their smile making him sway where he stands. For the first time in a long time, his usually steady hands start shaking like a junkie on psycho. He takes a shuddering breath, wipes at his eyes that totally are not watering, and musters up the biggest smile. “Hell yeah I’ll marry you.”

Nick Valentine - For him, everything and anything romantic died back with the human Nick Valentine so many years ago. So it was a shock when he was lucky enough to find Sole, but he’s even more stunned when they finally propose to him. On the one hand, he wants to say no – they need to find someone better for themselves than him. Someone human, someone warm and actually snuggle-able for cold nights and rainy days. But then he realised that to say no to them would be selfishly satisfying his guilt for being a synth, because after all, they already do all those things the human Nick would do and who is he to question Sole’s love for him. So with an upturn of his lips and newly brightened gaze, he’ll swipe off his fedora, lean down and whisper against their soft lips “Yes.”

Piper Wright - She gasps and freezes when she sees the ring, her hand covering her mouth as she stares at them. “Blue. Blue what are you doing?” Her voice shakes and her vision goes all blurry when they say the three words that threatened to turn her world upside down in the most wonderful of ways. Blue wants to marry her. Her. The most annoying, hard headed, troublesome person in the entire Commonwealth and they – a wonderful, beautiful, perfect human being – want to marry her? “Blue,” She forces out on a shuddering whisper. “I love you so much…but, are you sure? Like, really sure? I mean…I’m me and you’re you and…I…” Was rambling. She was rambling. Great. But the way they look at her makes her weak and when they reaffirm their feelings for her, it’s settled. “Yes!” She squeaks, throwing herself at them and enfolding them in a bone-crushing hug. But then she realises something and pulls back to look them in the eye. “Shots not telling Nat.”

Preston Garvey - Tears. Oh so many tears. He’d laugh a little, cry a little and most definitely scoop Sole up in the biggest, tightest hug he could while murmuring “Yes” over and over again in their ear. He never knew he could smile so much and he most certainly never expected the giant hole in his heart to be sewn shut just by the single most important person in the Commonwealth speaking three little, beautiful words to him.

Strong - He gets a little irritated, what with Sole trying awfully hard to squeeze on this tiny and very breakable little shiny piece of what he could make out was most likely a piece of garbage they’re always collecting. “STOP, TINY HUMAN!” After being badgered by Sole a long time afterwards, he’ll relent to wearing the damn thing around his neck. Although the exact significance him wearing it to Sole is still lost on him, he’ll make sure he doesn’t lose it.

X6-88 - When he realised just what it was Sole was doing, he’d have to bite his lip to keep it from trembling. He knew what they shared together was special, but marriage? To Sole? Only to them? Hell yeah. He had no idea how badly he wanted it until the word was out of his mouth on a barely audible breath “Yes.”

Originally posted by telefilmaddictedforever

Requested by anons <3
Prompts:  Yayy, loved the one with the 10th Doctor and the Time Lady that I requested. Can you please do part 2 to it or just another one.?

Another 10 x Timlady please!!! The next one could be how their relationship is and how it develops into something more?


“So, Doctor,” You started, running a finger through the foreign console. Yours was much more organized, good God it was painful for you to watch as he pressed some buttons and pulled a few levers, the TARDIS shifting course and taking you where ever The Doctor pleased, “Where exactly are you taking me?” You asked, leaning onto the railing. The Doctor glanced at you.

“Have you met me?”  

“You mean my universe you?” You pretended to think for a moment, “Nope. I might be younger or older. No idea, really.”

“What time is it in Earth?” You frowned at his question.

“There is no Earth.” You told, making him freeze, “Not anymore, at least. I have travelled to the future and eaten some ‘ice-cream’. Really delicious, have you tried some? I brought back some to Gallifrey for my sister-brother- well he originally was my sister, and then my brother, but then I was a boy, and now I’m a girl and she’s a boy so is she my sister or…? Well, that’s besides the point. Regenerations are weird, but what else is new?”

“That humans aren’t a thing anymore.” The Doctor blurred out. You smiled.

“Such weird creatures. Only one heart. I went on a date with one. It was a girl. Her name was…” Your eyes gazed to the side, trying to remember the name of a blond haired woman with such a  bright smile it could rival with any sun. You could almost feel her name on the tip of your tongue, and snapping your finger you tried to jog your memory, “Ah, ah, a flower – human flower. Her name. She shared a name with a human flower. I don’t…Botany was never my strong point damn it, it starts with an R, I think. Ro…Rolex? No that’s a watch-”

“Rose?” His voice sounded sad, somehow. You grinned.

“Yes! Rose, twenty first century, a really sweet girl but disappeared somewhere.”

“WAIT, you dated the Rose?!”

“The Rose?”

“She was my…companion.” He explained, looking away. You blinked.

“And my girlfriend. I guess now I know where she disappeared too.” You mumbled halfheartedly, but seeing as he didn’t find it amusing you pushed yourself off the railing and landed your hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it, “Don’t worry, Doctor. You have a new companion now.”

Requests are opened!

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: why aren't more people lusting over sturges i mean damn look at his muscles plus he is handy as hell and is repairing sanctuary like a beautiful, studly home improvement man like he is good with tools he is obviously good with his HANDS *wink wink* and man his voice is so cute and shit i can just imagine him throwing me against the workbench and fucking me senseless and the minute i met him in the museum of freedom i thought for sure he was going to be my romanceable companion and i'd be enjoying his damn lover's embrace perk but honestly he was such a tease of a character why can't i romance him why can't i talk to him more why doesn't he love me i saved his ass and built the entire settlement basically why doesn't the fallout fandom lust after him more i mean nick valentine and deacon are great don't get me wrong but damn damn damn sturges is one fineee man

anonymous asked:

Hi, can you do 23 with Lafayette please?

#23 - “fight me, you attractive stranger.” with Lafayette

Fuck. You were drunk. You giggled at your own statement. Yes, you were drunk as hell, trying to walk back to your place after a kegger. Stumbling in the streets trying to find your house, the only sound of silence as your companion. But then you heard footsteps behind you. You stopped, hearing the footsteps take a few more steps and then stop as well. You continued walking, trying not to look like you noticed the stranger behind you. You twirled in circles, in attempt to see the stranger, and damn he was attractive. It was only a glance, and you couldn’t make out any details of his face, but you knew he was attractive. He chuckled from behind you, and your anger boiled. Was this man laughing at you? How dare he?

“Hey, asshole!” you slurred, turning around. “You think you could laugh at me? Fight me, you attractive stranger!”

The man just laughed some more, taking a few steps, and leaning down in front of you. “Chéri, do you know how dangerous it is for you to be walking home alone, drunk?”

“What are you trying to say? I’m weak?” you pushed him back with a huff. 

“Chéri, c’mon. Let’s get you home.” 

“I have a boyfriend,” you said angrily, avoiding his attempts to grab your arm. 

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?” the man asked, his voice teasing as if mocking you. 

“Lafayette. And he’s going to beat you up if you touch me.”

He laughed again, before finally grabbing your shoulders. “Chéri, look at me.”

Under the moonlight you can finally see your boyfriend’s face in front of you. “Oh. Hey Laf. What are you doing here?” 

He only shook his head, lifting you in his arms, and carrying you to his house. You snuggled to his chest, his heartbeat soothing you to sleep. 

ayyzor  asked:

Pls I love fancy balls and nobility and everything like that I don't think I ever grew out of my "I want to be a pretty princess" childhood phase. So could I have a pre revolutionary France era in which the prince is just so hopelessly in love with the fair lady at the ball, but it's a ball and he's a prince so he's expected to dance and socialise with everyone but all he wants to do is go and woo the lady who is 1/2

(Heads up, this is more of a Medieval Kingdom AU than a French Prince AU hope you like it anyways… ALSO SOMEONE PLEASE TEACH ME HOW TO ENABLE “READ MORE” BECAUSE THIS IS A LONGIE)

Prince Oikawa x Noble Reader

Tooru had just finished fixing his cravat when a group of girls began tugging at it. They were all under five foot two, and if it weren’t for the way he was raised he would’ve denoted them all as children. The girls kept asking him questions, tugging at his sleeve and waistcoat until he answered them all with a smile. He was used to them, the questions. They had been rushing towards him in an onslaught ever since his first facial hair was visible. The questioners, well, were all noble girls. Petite, pretty things with waists thinner than their necks. Everytime he greeted one, whether it be with a kiss on the cheek or a shake of the hand, he was also greeted with the familiar residue of powder. Their wigs seemed taller than they were, and every time a new girl had rushed up to join the crowd, all he noticed was a bobbing mass of hair.
From across the room he caught the eye of Hajime. Hajime was a noble, an intelligent one, at that. He was no prince, nobody particularly extravagant, but he hauled in a crowd of his own. Hajime had these green eyes that could draw anybody in. Tooru swore they could even make a man homosexual, if he looked long enough. Hajime was a natural born conversationalist, something Tooru had envied. Tooru could handle all these girls just fine, more than fine, really. All he had to do was start a conversation about a lovely horseback ride he had down to Spain and puff out his chest a little, then spin them around for a second to the melody that was seemingly on repeat. Although, none of that had anything on the works of his companion. Maybe one day, if he swallowed up his pride, he’d ask the man how he was able to talk so smoothly to others. Until then, though, he may as well be trapped.
“Your highness!” Tooru glanced down to meet the eyes of a girl who had boldly stepped to the front of the crowd. She was short and plump and looked damn well on the brink of suffocation. He began to wonder if it would be rude if he unlaced her corset when they inevitably had to waltz.
“Yes, my dear?” He flashed a smile, wide and tacky, and by the shocked expression on her face, she was blushing. He couldn’t see it past all the powder, though. “Would you like a dance?”
She nodded, standing in front of him as still as a statue. Over the years, Tooru has noticed the difference in girls that approached him. They were either much too assertive, grabbing his behind or chest before even requesting a dance. Or, they were far too meek, hands balled up in the fabric of their dresses, eyes wet and close to tears. Unfortunately, after all these years, he still doesn’t know how to deal with either. 

He scooped her hand out of the lace of her dress and kissed her knuckles, ignoring the squealing of the rest of the girls and twirled off. Part of him began to get agitated. She had requested a dance but did no more than shuffle and stumble over the length of her dress. Tooru resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and when he almost did, he caught the eye of his father up in the balcony. The man shook his head, made an exaggerated facial gesture, and stormed off. Of course, his father was pushing him to do more than just wait there for her to fix her two left feet. So, he had picked her up off the floor, gave her a good twirl in the air, and chuckled into the material of her wig.
“Well, what are you waiting for? You asked for a dance, didn’t you?” If it weren’t for the smile on his face and the light in his voice, his words would’ve been downright rude. The girl nodded, finding her courage and twirled off to the beat of the waltz.
Tooru couldn’t count how many times he’s danced this exact same dance. At this point, it had to be over a thousand, but it definitely felt like a million. During this time, all he’d do is think. He’d hold the maiden close, let her have her fun, whilst he stared out at the crowd around him. Only on rare occasions has he ever had a fun dance. A dance where the entire floor clears out for him and a beautiful, blooming gowned noble to sweep through, the genuine smiles on both of their faces lighting up the room as they did. This, however was not one of those times. The only thing he could think about was the way his genitals were sitting oh so uncomfortably inside of his breeches.
He gave the girl one last absentminded twirl before she fluttered off towards a group of her friends. She was swooning, hand up against her forehead in the most pretentious way possible. Her friends clutched her shoulders and squealed, tugging at the sides of the poor girl’s wig and nearly making her topple over. Tooru found himself laughing at the melodrama as he cleared his way through the dance floor. Waltzes were never his forte. The aesthetic of pretty girls twirling by like silk butterflies was nice enough for the eyes, but for the heart, it was just too much. Tooru thinks he wasn’t meant to be a prince, let alone a king in his near future. He was told ever since he was a child that he was a natural born leader, but who was he to lead in a place like this? There was nothing to conquer, (unless he wanted to pick a fight with Prince Tobio of The Mountain of the Crows once again) and nobody to lead. He was a prince without a purpose. A price succumbed to luring in delicate butterflies with sweet fruit of his tending.
Tooru brushed himself off after pushing past the last waltzing couple. The way they had looked at each other made the child in him want to gag. Hajime must have noticed the sour expression on his face, because one he approached the latter, he had received an impromptu nudge to the rib.
“Are you having fun out there, Your Highness?” Hajime’s every word was sardonic, and if it weren’t for the fact that Tooru was in a room full of people dependent on his reputation, he would’ve punched him.
“What does it look like Hajime?”
“It looks like you’re about to kill a man… You know, on the other side of the room there’s a surplus of wine, I suggest you fill yourself up before the next lady approaches you.”
“Your provocation humors me, Hajime.” Tooru’s reply was bitter. The coy smirk Hajime shot at him had faded, and replaced with a frown.
“See any girls you like out there? Your father is expecting a marriage soon, and all your options, wealthy wise, of course, are in this room right now. They’re yours for the taking.” Tooru rolled his eyes at this. He readjusted his waistcoat out of force of habit, and tightened his cravat.
“Marriage my ass.” He snorted.
“Somebody’s vulgar tonight. I suggest you take my invitation to wine.” Hajime shot him one last, lingering glance, then set off to talk to a group of young noblemen Tooru had never seen. In the midsts of his thinking, standing there lonesome, he had attracted a bit of a crowd. He hadn’t realized they were there until a powdered wig tickled his chin. He had jolted, holding his hand out in front of him in urge not to scream.
“Hello, Your Highness!” She peeped, and the cycle began again.

Tooru barely had any sense of time once the ball had ended. His bad knee was starting to flare up again, though. He swore it was the works of that one overweight mistress who kept insisting he hold her up in the air. A few couples still lingered around in the ballroom, chatting away with other couples as if they had lived here. He had made his way through them all unnoticed, which he was deeply grateful for, and scurried out the back doors of the hall. He was hoping he wouldn’t run into either of his parents out here, for he was sure he was to receive a scolding. They would start with “treat your subjects kinder” and end with “disgrace for a prince”, as they always did. Just like everything else in his life, this has been going on for years. He was bitterly used to it.
The grand clock in the corridor struck half past one, and the mere chime was enough to worsen Tooru’s headache. He could bolt straight for his room, but he reckoned he’d see somebody up there. Maybe he’d get himself lost in the palace, as he did most nights, and wake up on a balcony. He found solace in the world outside, as of late. Sometimes he wondered if he was born as a commoner, would he be able to explore the vastness more often? In this day and age, the poor gained experiences what they didn’t money, and the rich, as loaded as they may be, were on a repetitive cycle of counting their cash and getting drunk on wine from Italy. The crown on his head told him he was important, but was he?
He came across a balcony off the East wing of the castle. The chilly April breeze was enough to make him regret this decision entirely. The wind blew the drapery around against its will, and through the fluttering of fabric, Tooru swore he saw a figure standing outside. He took a few steps forward and paused because yes, indeed there was a person outside on the balcony. His balcony. He furrowed his brow and stepped off onto the balcony before clearing his throat and muttering, “Miss?”
The woman turned around with irritation irked all over her face. Tooru immediately took a few steps back, not because he was intimidated by her, but rather the broken wine glass in her hand. She wasn’t anything like he had ever seen before, in the negative connotation, that is. She wore little to no makeup upon her full face, powdered wig as absent as her decency. Her long blue ball gown would’ve sweeped the floor if it weren’t for the fact she was holding it up past her ankles with pins.
“Oh, Prince Tooru, pleasure seeing you here.” She smiled. The smile was obviously fake, but Tooru wasn’t in the mood for calling her out upon it. Her hand tightened around the neck of the broken wine glass with each step Tooru took forward. Her knuckles were turning white, and he feared the glass would shatter in a matter of seconds.
“Likewise, Miss.” He bowed, before clearing his throat and leaning against the cast iron railing beside her. “Any particular reason why you’re still lingering around here?”
“Any particular reason why I’m not?” She shrugged. Her grip on the glass has loosened, and now it just hung idly by her fingertips, at risk of falling. It was giving Tooru a heart attack.
“Well, I think you look absolutely stunning tonight, Miss…”
“__. __ __.”
“Yes, Miss __. A gem.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, your highness. Don’t expect me to run off and brag about my encounter with the Prince of the Succulent Valley, now.”
“I wasn’t planning on you doing so.”
There was something about this woman that Tooru had liked. Of course, he was raised being told that woman should always respect you as prince, no matter the circumstance. Although, there was something about being disrespected that Tooru found spellbindingly amusing.
“May I ask, where do you come from, Miss __?”
“The Mountain of the Crows, your highness.” She shrugged. Tooru noticed she finally regained a stable grip on the glass, but held it straight up against the railing. She was going to let it fall, Tooru thought, and his heart was pounding. Except, she balanced it nicely mere centimeters away from the edge, letting it sit there in inevitability of tumbling.
“Well, that explains most things. Tobios your ruler, huh? Must be tough, having someone so stubborn keep your people regulated…”
“Actually, he’s rather intelligent. I’d much rather have someone with a thick skull over a shameless flirt.”
Tooru furrowed his eyebrows. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smirk. __ brought provocation at its finest to the table tonight, and Tooru was absolutely starving. He began to chuckle under his breath. The sheer irony of the situation was enough to make him burst into tears, and the poor woman had no idea why he was laughing so hard.
“Your highness, I know you’re prone to psychotic episodes, but do you need me to fetch your father?”
“That won’t be necessary, dear __.” He choked out between a fit. “My dear, would you like to know something?”
“I’d like to know a lot of things, your highness.”
“I like you.” He stated, deadpan. She cocked her eyebrow, and for some reason, began fiddling with the god forsaken broken glass again.
“Is that so? Or do you say that to all the maidens you meet on balconies?” Tooru found the coy smile on her face infectious. He found himself smiling too.
“I only say that to people like __ __. You people from the Crow Kingdom, you’re hysterical. Why don’t any of you travel out here more often?”
“Well. Your nights, I can’t remember the names of them exactly, but I do remember he very much resembled a turnip, wouldn’t let us in unless we had an export that would be valuable to you.” She shrugged. “I didn’t quite mind. I like the mountains better, anyways.”
“Well, you must like the fields just a little bit. You’re here right now, aren’t you?” Tooru found himself slinking closer to her. She held his eyes in a death stare, failing to even blink. Tooru seized this opportunity to snatch the glass from her hands and hide it behind his back. Although, she barely seemed to notice.
“They come up close as a runner up, I’d say.” She smiled up at him then. Their eyes continued to stay locked until she blinked, and turned fast on the ball of her heel. Tooru was confused, to say at the least, but said nothing as she undid the clips on her dress, letting the skirt fall to cover her ankles.
“It gets hot out here, sometimes, your highness. I think it’s a little unfair that we ladies can’t find a way to cool off in the slightest. Sorry if I cast sin upon your holy eyes” She hummed, turning to face him once more whilst letting the pins fall to the floor.
“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily call my eyes holy…” He was cut off with a harumph. He knew she had meant every word sarcastically, but there was something fun about irking her, he thought.
“Well, your highness, this was a very nice chat we’ve had. Pleasant way to spend a Saturday evening.” With that, she curtseyed, and exited the grand entrance to the inside.”
It took Tooru a moment to process what had just happened before he leaped into action. He let the wine glass fall to the concrete and shatter into pieces, but in that moment, he didn’t mind.
“Wait, Miss __?” Tooru called out. She was halfway down the hall now, but spared him a glance over her shoulder.
“Yes, your highness?”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“Depends, your highness. Would you like to see me again?” Tooru couldn’t bring himself to admit that he found interest in her, but without saying anything, she knew. So he just nodded and relished in the small, half smile she shot him, and melted at the sight of her bouncing down the hall, the soft click of her shoe reminiscent in the back of his mind.
Well, maybe now these balls were a little bit more his forte.

Anyway the reason for all this Renji discourse on ur dash is bc ive actually holy shit written something after a three-month-long block (and ofc it HAD to be like two days before my exam what’s new) and it’s renji pov, so ive been thinking about him a lot. anyway here’s the excerpt of what ive written, it’s from the third chapter of collision course, and it’s been a while since i’ve posted fic so here you go have a preview

The first glimpse Renji gets of Rukia in five months astonishes him. For a moment he even doubts that that is his Rukia, their hundred-year-plus acquaintance be damned; yes, the features were hers, and no-one could mistake that hair, but—

“You sure you got the right girl?” he asks, and his superior’s lips go thin and tight (well, thinner and tighter than they usually are) at being talked back to.

“I was not aware you were in a position to question my intelligence.”

“No, sir, it’s just—” It’s not the odd human world clothes, or her dopey-looking companions, or even the fact that he’s seeing her alive and well after months of wondering otherwise; what throws him is something much simpler and more visceral than that. “Her— her expression— it’s—”

On the screen, some orange-haired bastard hands Rukia a small carton, muttering tersely, and Rukia cocks her head to the side and smirks; the gesture floors Renji, nails him to the tatami mats of the Sixth Division barracks as he tries and fails to remember the last time he’d seen that face on her. Was it before the Academy? During? Surely he remembered the last time Rukia had smiled?!

“… so human,” he finishes, and Byakuya’s lips twist at the word as though it is an insult of the highest order.

“Yes,” he says, and it sounds like a condemnation. Renji does not volunteer to defend her.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Male companions react to getting a tit job from sole😵

Danse - It felt very…different… for the ex-soldier. Arousing, yes, pleasurable, yes and hot damn would he let her do it again! But generally, he preferred the more ‘vanilla’ way of being intimate. He enjoys not just the pleasurable sensations the physical contact induces, but mainly the connection he shares with Sole. He definitely gives her a 10/10 though.

Deacon - He was the one to pitch the idea to her. Knowing him and those sly shades of his, he’s been eyeing up her breasts for a good long while now, all the while pondering on just how great they’d be if used on him just the way he likes it. And holy cow. Sole didn’t break eye contact with him once! Next time, he wants to try a bit of foot play just for kicks.

Hancock - He once thought fellatio was great enough, especially from Sole, but that was before she used those wonderful jugs of hers on him and by God was he impressed! As long as Sole’s cool with it, he gives her the hint with a cheeky waggle of his eyebrows and a note-so-subtle glance down to her lovely breasts.

Gage - Considering that Sole was the first woman in a good long while with any meat on her bones and subsequently with nice pair of full, luscious breasts, the raider would have simply been happy with fondling them when having sex with her. But when she used them on him good and proper like she did, well… now he tries to do everything he can to enjoy her like that again and again. In his eyes, there really wasn’t anything like it - it was a surefire way of making him come undone in a matter of a few minutes.

MacCready - He’d be giggling inappropriately, amused and aroused at the same time because of how her lovely flesh jiggled around him. It doesn’t take long for him to climax like this.

Maxson - If there’s anything that the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel likes more than roughly fucking Sole on the desk in his quarters, its gotta be when he lounges back in a chair on the forecastle, looking out over his domain below with a bottle of whiskey while Sole’s luscious breasts work him to ecstasy. Depending upon his mood, he can make it last for as long as he wants, always finishing off in the back of Sole’s throat.

Nick Valentine - Folk these days are always coming up with new ways to have kinky sex, but using a woman’s breasts like this? The gentlemanly part of him is appalled, but the lustful man within him is just as eager as Sole when she suggests her idea.

Preston - He blushes like mad and it takes a lot of convincing on Sole’s part to even be allowed to do it on him, but eventually the puppy dog eyes wins him over and reluctantly he allows it, only to be pleasantly suprised at how very much he enjoyed it. When Sole pleases him this way, Preston gives a whole new meaning to the title of Minuteman.

X6-88 - He sits back like a King and takes Sole’s melons like a champ, simply loving to watch them bounce and jiggle all around him. He tries hard to make it last for as long as he can with a death grip on the arms of his chair, but its always over quickly when Sole dips her chin and starts licking him too.

Title: Dexterity (Re-upload)
Pairing: Geralt x Yennefer
Rating: Slight M
Summary: Yennefer is taken back by Geralt’s former lover.

Okay, so I’m sorry it’s not as long as I wanted it to be, and I’m sorry I just suck all around, but I hope if anybody reads this that they enjoy it. I also didn’t make it as smutty as I thought because I got too deep in and it didn’t feel right. Thanks for reading ily

Keep reading

A/N @draginraptor I actually wanted to write this ever since I got it back when the episode aired but I had exams at the time and it got buried. But it’s never too late to shower these dorks with love.

A Serious Conversation - Peko Pekoyama + Mukuro Ikusaba

There are some battles that not even the best of fighters could ever hope to win.

“The best way to approach the target is always head on.” Ikusaba started with a face of complete focus.

“Is that so?” Pekoyama held her chin in contemplation as she digested the advice. “I’ve been creeping up from behind all this time because they usually notice a frontal attack.”

“If you just conceal your intentions then it should work alright…” Ikusaba added although this time her words didn’t come out as certain as she would have liked. She frowned slightly. “Or at least that’s what I’ve been told of.”

“Have you had any successes?” Pekoyama asked with pure curiosity and perhaps with some level of expectation.

“Yes, however… it was with aid.” Ikusaba let out a sigh and then stared out listlessly. “I have yet to achieve a successful attempt with my power alone.”

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it?” Pekoyama seconded with a sigh of her own that was just as defeated. “It would seem that this challenge might just be beyond us.”

Within sight but out of reach.

They both had the same goal in mind as they stared longingly at the pomeranian in front of them. If only.


Softness - Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu + Makoto Naegi (kuzupeko)

Meanwhile, on a bench not that far away from theirs, were two concerned onlookers.

“They’re talking about animals again, aren’t they?” Naegi started with a small laugh.

“Pretty much.” Kuzuryuu shrugged and then let out a sigh. “It’s kind of depressing how desperate they are to get to pet some animal that they have to strategize like this.”

“Why don’t you take Pekoyama to a petting zoo?” Naegi suggested.

“You think I haven’t tried that?” Kuzuryuu scoffed and balled his fists in frustration. “They all run away from her. Even those little guys that are supposed to love anyone!”

“Well I can’t say that Ikusaba didn’t face the same trouble.” Naegi confessed as he recalled the memory. He’s pretty sure the poor creature was traumatized with fear but he just told himself that her smile afterward was worth it. Although that wouldn’t be happening a second time soon, he at least wanted Pekoyama to experience it first. “But still. I kind of feel bad for Pekoyam. At least Ikusaba was able to pet an animal, granted I was the one holding the creature in place.”

“Same here. But what can I do, anyways?” Kuzuryuu complained as he scratched his head. “Even our damn breeder’s hamsters are terrified of her.” He scratched his head again in frustration.

Naegi just stared at him and somewhere in the back of his mind, an idea was born. “Hmm, oh! How about we try something else?” He then called out to their other companions, “Ikusaba! Pekoyama!”

“Yes?” They were quick to return although they did look back once at the pomeranian they left behind.

“We’re going to do an experiment and we need your input on this.” Naegi explained, well that was the most he explained as he just proceeded with his idea without further elaboration.

Naegi then took Pekoyama by the wrist. At first she stiffened upon reflex and a quick glance at his face showed that he had no malicious intent so she let him. He nodded and smiled at her, grateful for her permission. He then pulled on her hand, and pulled, and guided it until it was resting on something soft.

Pekoyama had her hand on top of Kuzuryuu’s head.

“This is…!” Pekoyama’s eyes widened in shock. She looked so torn over this. She’s not sure if she’s allowed this much but

“Hey!” Kuzuryuu yelled abruptly.

Pekoyama flinched and immediately retracted her hand. “I’m sorry. I overstepped my boundaries. I’ll just–”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kuzuryuu angrily cut her off. “We’re not done here yet.” He declared as his hand reached out for hers and pulled. The action caught her off-guard that she stumbled a step closer. Much closer.

He pulled until her hand was resting again on top of his head. Softness.

Kuzuryuu turned to Naegi and inquired, “So? What do we do next?”

Naegi smiled so widely. He knew Kuzuryuu would cooperate. “Well obviously, Pekoyama gets to pet him.”

Pekoyama blinked in confusion. “…I don’t think I follow?”

“Like this.” Ikusaba interjected as she casually placed a hand on top of Naegi’s head and ruffled his hair affectionately.

Naegi, now sporting a blush, seconded her action with a shy mumble, “Yeah, just like that.”

Pekoyama stared at the two. And then at Kuzuryuu. Her glances alternated for a few times, still in disbelief. Kuzuryuu wasn’t even stopping her. If anything, his eyes told her that he was encouraging the action. She blinked again. She was suddenly aware of the sensation beneath her palm and fingertips.

But she had long been aware of just how much she had wanted to try this all her life.

Hesitantly, shyly, she experimentally shifted her hand by an inch as if testing her boundaries. Her gaze fell upon his and as if he already knew she was asking for permission, he urged her on with a nod. She gulped and nodded gratefully. She let her hand comb through his short hair, noting how ticklish it felt under her skin. She brushed through his hair again. And again. And again and again. Until she was petting him at a steady pace, relishing at the comfort it was giving her.

“Soft.” She mumbled with a smile that was just as soft as his hair.

Kuzuryuu just stared in awe as he was graced with one of Pekoyama’s rare smiles. From then on, he made it very clear that she could do it whenever she wanted to and even without his permission.

From then on, those rare smiles of hers happened more often.

harbingerofcookies  asked:

What exactly did Garrosh do that everyone dislikes him and what happened with Thrall that everyone calls him Orc Jesus

RIGHT, so, first of all, Garrosh Hellscream is Grommash “Grom” Hellscream’s son. Grom Hellscream is a HUGE fan favorite, and a really important character throughout the ages of the Warcraft franchise, starting with Warcraft II and culminating with his heroic sacrifice in Warcraft III. Both in and out of universe, Grom is A Big Deal. Grom and Thrall were best friends, and though Grom is Thrall’s senior in rank, age, and skill in battle, Grom respected Thrall’s wisdom and bravery, thus he followed him and what he intended to build out of the Horde. Grom is also the Chieftain of the Warsong clan. His final sacrifice freed the orcs of the demon’s control once and for all, striking down the Pit Lord Mannoroth and dying in the process, a foe Thrall could not even injure with his attacks. That’s like a very short summary because lore gets EXTENSIVE. All in all, Grom basically fucked up because he willingly gave himself to the demons for power twice (in WCII and in WCIII), but he fixed this himself after being shown reason, killing the demon with his own damn axe.

Now, here’s a thing you need to know about Thrall, and why we call him Orc/Green Jesus: He’s a very, legitimately good guy. He wants nothing more than peace between Horde and Alliance, he wants to distance the Orcs from their past as Demonkind pawns, he wants to work hand in hand with the other races. Debuting in Warcraft III as the Orc protagonist, Thrall used to be an orc, well, thrall (another word for slave) that was raised by humans that killed his tribe and brought him back, himself a baby at that time, with them. Among Orcs, Thrall was particularly massive and strong, but also very smart. Being taught by humans, Thrall eventually escaped with the help of his human friend, Taretha Foxton, the daughter of the human wet nurse that nurtured him in captivity, and sought out the undefeated Grom Hellscream after learning about him from an orc in captivity. Grom told Thrall that he was from the Frostwolf clan (he knew this from the patterns in his tattered clothes), and sent him to where the remaining members of the exiled clan lived, and he also taught him the Orc language. Thrall, once he arrived to where his clan was, was revealed to be the son of Durotan, the Chieftain of the Frostwolves, and there, a frost wolf (massive damn wolves), Snowsong, chose him as her companion (she’s his mount). Thrall then made communion with the spirits of Wind, Earth, Water, Fire, and the Wilds, and became friends with them, becoming the first Shaman since the end of the First War (Warcraft I), as the Spirits had condemned the orc race after Gul’dan (yes, that mother fucker) corrupted the entire race and turned them into demonkind pawns. After this, he’s put to the test by an anonymous Orgrim Doomhammer (you know, Warchief of the Horde and final orc boss of Warcraft II), who approves of his strength and, during a liberation of orc captives later, names Thrall Warchief after dying in that fight. Then everything in Warcraft III happens, and man, THIS big paragraph is a VERY short summary, because you can talk about Thrall all day, a LOT of lore, but basically, he’s like ultimate chosen one and fully deserves that position. The last thing you need to know about his Green Jesusness is that the amazing, amazing last level of Warcraft III: Reign of Chaos can be summarized as “Thrall, Jaina, Tyrande, and Malfurion all put their differences aside and make the strongest team fucking EVER to stop Arthas, Kel’thuzad, and Archimonde’s Wild Wild Ride”, and the alliance between Orcs, Humans, and Night Elves here could only happen thanks to Thrall’s efforts (as well as some help from Medivh).

Then we have Garrosh.

Garrosh Hellscream eventually rose to become Thrall’s successor as the Horde’s Warchief. Thrall had high hopes for Garrosh, first appointing him as an advisor and then personally stepping down so Garrosh would become the Warchief. The first thing he does is basically spit in the face of every single effort Thrall has spent trying to prepare the Horde to make peace with the Alliance. He hates the Alliance, and wants to kill every single one of them like some mustache twirling miscreant in a black top hat. He goes and initiates the invasion of Pandaria (where the funny panda people, Pandarians, like Chen, are from), and during it, unleashes the Sha of Pride, basically a super-sealed evil who spread corruption and death across the entire continent, eating the souls of countless people. Later, he deployed a weapon called a Mana Bomb in Theramor, a Human Bastion in Horde-controlled territory, with which the Horde, due to Thrall, openly traded with. This was the deed that made even super traditionalist and cruel members of the Horde who want to just kill the shit out of humans say “hey what the fuck man”, and the last straw was broken. Garrosh literally nuked civilians. At that point, Thrall himself rallied the Horde against him, and he was accused of war crimes (of COURSE he was). The first time around, in Pandaria, he was sent to trial, but he escaped, and the second time, Thrall himself challenged him to a one on one duel, and killed the fuck out of him. Garrosh was stronger physically, but the thing about Thrall is that he’s also a really powerful spellcaster, and thus Garrosh died by being grabbed by giant earth hands and then struck by lightning.

TL:DR: Thrall is basically a nice guy who is just trying his best help out and Garrosh is a literal war criminal who nukes innocents.

izzysuniversestuff  asked:

I have a fluffy request: Cody and Rex seeing each other again after a long time apart.

Listen, I’m a sucker for this fucking trope, and while it’s not quite as fluffy as you probably wanted, it’s still got fluffy qualities??? Also, it’s post ANH, but that’s not really relevant???

It wasn’t much of a surprise, Rex realized, when he saw Cody standing in the hangar with the Rogue One team. His one-time husband would have come to his senses eventually, and Rex had been constantly telling that to Wolffe and Gregor over the years. Seeing him standing there with the Guardians of the Whills and their companions just solidified his faith in his husband, even if his trust in the man had been shattered and barely repaired long ago.

“Damn, I owe you dinner,” Wolffe muttered, following Rex’s line of sight. Rex looked at his brother, a small smile crossing his face.

“I’ll take a hug instead.” Wolffe looked at him, horror on his face.

“No, no, we agreed I’d make you dinner.” He said, even as Gregor approached.

“Hey, is that Cody?” Gregor asked, before looking at Wolffe. “You owe Rex dinner.”

Keep reading

The Surprises of Retirement


Dr Watson remained true to his word and paid me another visit just a few days later.

In his absence, the weather had altered between glorious sunshine and thunderous downpours that had transformed my chamber from a steam room to an ice box. I exaggerate, of course, but it was rather tiresome to drag oneself out of bed to fling the windows open or shut them again based on the whims of the weather. But I digress.

Dr Watson found me on a day that had been largely marked by heavy rainfall. I had not expected him but took great precautions as to my appearance when the knock on the door reverberated through the silence in the cottage.

Keep reading


“I want to make a toast” you declare, holding your shot of vodka in the air as you stand at the table, looking down at your exhausted team mates.

“You sure you can handle that?” Mick questions, his gaze flittering between you and the shot glass in your hand.

“As I was saying,” you continue, an eye roll being the only response you give the burly man. “To us, we may not have got the dagger, but we didn’t die either, and for us, that has to be a win!”

A chuckle resonates around the table a the group raise their drinks “to us!” 

Keep reading

25 metres

title: 25 metres

word count: 4k

pairings/other notes: jikook, yoonseok, santa!jimin, elf!hoseok, elf!taehyung, manager!yoongi, sadcashier!jungkook, mall!bangtan. jungkook is a shy cashier and loves how the Christmas exhibition is only 25 metres away from the 7/11, especially when he can get the best view of the new santa with chiselled thighs.

a/n: hello! I promised 9th december but it’s 2 days later. haha. I’m not sorry. I stayed up again to write this, I’m super tired but I hope you enjoy it! should I make a second part? I got asked on ao3 to write a sequel but I think it fits better as a oneshot, maybe I’ll write a spinoff. anyway, thanks to all of you for being so kind! my first fic did p well, I was legit expecting only 10 notes but it got a lot more than that and it’s encouraging me to put myself out there. anyway, enjoy!

With you, shawty with you

With you, shawty with you

With you, under the mistletoe…

           the song has been on repeat for the past hour, and jungkook thinks he might physically tear out his ears if it means he doesn’t have to hear justin bieber wail anymore. he slumps against the counter, cheek brushing the cool plastic.

           just five more hours, jeon jungkook. five more.

           the bell at the door jingles, signifying the entrance of a new patron. jungkook hastily straightens the red hat on his head, sits up, and smiles as warmly as he can.

           “Welcome to 7/11!”

           A young mother pushes past the glass door, five-year-old in tow. the small boy is chortling as he fiddles with the reindeer antlers on his head, his mother smiling down on him with such love that jungkook feels himself melting a little. the brunnette places a coke down on the counter, fishing for her wallet. jungkook is eye-level with what seems to be a squirming lump, and he paints on the biggest grin he can muster.

           “hey there little guy! came from the christmas exhibition?”

           the five-year-old takes one look at the handsome jungkook, who is all angular features, with a smile so wide it radiates sunbeams. jungkook stares back at the curious toddler, pulling a funny face in an attempt to make him laugh. the child cocks his head, and opens his mouth. tears start to pool at the base of his eyes, and jungkook silently curses.

           “Mom!! stalker!

Keep reading

“Six” pt 5: Don’t Fear the Reaper

You find out more about your past than you bargained for, and make a quick decision. The inebriated residents of Avengers Tower try to pull themselves together; Steve and Bucky make a plan. Spinoff of the “Mayday” Series.

Captain America x Reader (Six)

Steve had pulled Six under the awning as the rain began to pour down, but she’d still gotten pretty soaked.

“Damn, that hit fast.” He murmured. The overhang barely covered the both of them; he’d backed up towards the door to make room for his companion, and swiftly removed his brown leather jacket, draping it over her shoulders and pulling it tightly around her. He noticed they were pretty close; he also noticed he didn’t seem to mind. At all. In fact, he was kind of intrigued.

“Yes, it did.” Six replied quietly.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea. He wasn’t over Peggy, and probably never really would be. Six didn’t even know who she was yet and was just beginning to get her bearings on the world. But she seemed to do whatever she wanted in general, and right now it really seemed like she wanted Steve. And as much as he knew he was playing with fire, he wasn’t going to object. He was tired of always being the level headed one. Always thinking things through. He wanted to just live a little bit, do something daring, see where something went rather than plan the entire thing out. He had to admit, he was attracted to her. At first she’d been intriguing; a mystery, a puzzle to solve. She’d quickly become a complexity he couldn’t resist. At some point it had turned to attraction, he wasn’t sure when. Maybe the entire time, and he’d been talking himself out of it? He really couldn’t be sure. But as Six stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest, he knew he was sunk. It was probably going to be messy, but it was definitely going to happen.

Keep reading

Camelot Descendants


Freya is the daughter of the two most retched people in Camelot history. Mordred the Mage and Morgana Pendragon, the sister to Arthur Pendragon. Yes THAT Arthur Pendragon High King of Camelot. She just had to thank whatever Saint was there that brought some sense into her mad parents not to give her a ’M’ for her name. That would be just too cruel. Not that her life was better. You kidding me? No way. Her father -both of their magic (yes she had it thanks to her damn father) cut off by something Merlin did, her dad kept telling her the story but she kept not listening- taught her what he thought she should know. Usually by beating it into her. And when she got to THAT AGE (yes all caps, apparently that was necessary for her power crazed father) she was sent to her equally mad mother, who taught her what it meant to be a woman. And yes, that did mean seduction. Great.

Freya had been laying on the field watching an owl -her only….companions were the wild life. And to show she wasn’t going soft, she’d only brought fierce animals of prey home only twice- contemplating a snooze, cause really who was to tell her what to do? When it floated down to her as if seeking her out. “What is it?” She asks sleepily. “Can’t you see I’m working on my doing absolutely nothing?” She remarked closing her eyes but got a soft nip on the arm by the bird. She yelped and smacked it over the head. “Mind yourself or you’ll be made into a writing quill!” She snarled. Then she noticed the letter. They NEVER got letters. Who the fuck would be that damn stupid? She got some of the swearing from her father when he thought she hadn’t been listening. She untied it not really caring if she had irritated the beast, for it irritated her first, by Saints. She dropped the letter her eyes distant. “You can’t be serious. This is father’s prank, I’m sure to get back at me for the rat droppings on the muffin. He’d never looked so proud of me.” She said stunned.