you can fight when your heart is breaking because you're a woman

anonymous asked:

Could you write a passionate kiss into this episode like idc what scene it just was something they completely dropped and you're an amazing writer.

Ok so I kind of got carried away with this and it got smutty oops anyways thank you you’re amazing!

Of course Alex had gone to confront Emily, to talk to Emily, because Alex was Alex and Alex protects the people she loved. But Maggie knew, knew she didn’t deserve Alex’s love and care and wholehearted sacrifice because Maggie had cheated and Maggie knew she was a bad person, and now Alex did too.

Maggie takes a few deep breaths as she sits down on Alex’s couch, wondering if it’d be the last time she’d let herself into her girlfriend’s apartment, the last  time she’d get to call Alex her girlfriend because she’d messed up, she’d cheated. Sure it was years and years ago but Alex was good and Alex was amazing and she didn’t deserve such a screw up.

Alex walks over to Maggie, holding the two glasses of bourbon, a steely look on her face, but her heart breaking for the woman in front of her. She wasn’t mad, she was just upset. Hurt. That Maggie thinks she has to keep these things from Alex, that she doesn’t think that she deserves to be forgiven for mistakes she’s made, for the times she’s been hurt and hurt others in her past and Alex just wants to tell her. That’s it’s ok, it’s all ok.

Alex sits next to her girlfriend slowly, steeling herself for the words to come because she knows they’re going to bring up some bad memories for Maggie, but she needs to say them because she needs Maggie to know that she’s here and she’s not going anywhere, she’s never going anywhere again. Because, sure, Maggie had made some mistakes, Maggie had cheated, but everyone makes mistakes. Alex had made enough in her past to keep her inner demons howling at her. But Maggie? Maggie was the light in Alex’s darkness, the will to get out of bed in the morning, and the joy in rainy days. She was the one person she could truly breathe around, could truly let in and not push away. She was the one, the only one. So she needed Maggie to know that come hell or high water she wasn’t going anywhere.

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The 1975 sentence starters
  • "Don't call it a fight when you know it's a war."
  • "Go sit on the bed because I know that you want to."
  • "You've got pretty eyes, but I know you're wrong."
  • "Get in the shower if it all goes wrong."
  • "I swear there's a ghost."
  • "I feel like I'm just treading water."
  • "I love the house that we live in."
  • "I love you all too much."
  • "I've got a woman now."
  • "This one's on the house."
  • "It all tastes the same, but there's something different about your mouth."
  • "You try chasing dreams, it's harder than it seems."
  • "Stick another pill in my head and go to bed."
  • "We're not doing it again, so leave it."
  • "I wanna see you, but you're not mine."
  • "You think we're doing it again, keep dreaming."
  • "Yeah my shirt looks so good, when it's just hanging off your back."
  • "She's got a boyfriend anyway."
  • "All we seem to do is talk about sex."
  • "He's got a funny face, but I like that 'cause he still looks cool."
  • "Does he take care of you or could I easily fill his shoes?"
  • "If we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck."
  • "And you're a liar, at least all of your friends are."
  • "It's my party and I'll cry to the end."
  • "You must try harder than kissing all of my friends."
  • "You're alive, at least as far as I can tell you are."
  • "And it's not my fault that I fucked everybody here."
  • "Do you wanna dance?"
  • "It's no fun if you've only a bottle of wine."
  • "Yeah, I want you."
  • "I'm so high, I think I love you."
  • "I was thinking about leaving again, it all depends."
  • "Are we just friends?"
  • "We go where nobody knows."
  • "Oh, my hair smells like chocolate."
  • "Stop looking at my friends."
  • "Write another song about your friends."
  • "I love you, don't you mind."
  • "I think I've lost a lot of my friends."
  • "Well fuck me if you must then."
  • "Treat me like an old friend."
  • "I'm not scared."
  • "I used to think you're cool and I believed you had a wonderful vision."
  • "I was always looking for a way to get out."
  • "You just write about sex and killing yourself and how you hardly ever went to school."
  • "I'm falling for you."
  • "Maybe you'll change your mind."
  • "I'll take you one day at a time, soon you will be mine."
  • "Do you fancy sitting down with me? Maybe?"
  • "I don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck."
  • "I can't believe that we're talking about him."
  • "Why do you talk so loud?"
  • "I think you're trying too hard."
  • "I've been thinking lots about your mouth."
  • "I forgot to call you."
  • "I remember that I like you, no matter what I found."
  • "It's nice to have your friends round."
  • "It's just you and I tonight."
  • "Gotta love the way you love yourself."
  • "You got something to say? Why don't you speak it out loud, instead of living in your head?"
  • "I don't seem to be having any effect now."
  • "I guess I'll never learn 'cause I stay another hour or two."
  • "You know I can't be found with you."
  • "I'm so fixated on the girl with the soft sound and hair all over the place."
  • "You're cold and I burn."
  • "She had a face straight outta magazine."
  • "Babe, stay, stay, stay, stay, stay."
  • "I'll give you one more time."
  • "You've got a pretty kind of dirty face."
  • "Babe, you look so cool."
  • "What's the fun in doing what you're told?"
  • "I could persuade you."
  • "I'm not your typical, stoned 18 year old."
  • "Girl, I'm not your savior."
  • "They're just girls."
  • "One moment I was tearing off your blouse, now you're living in my house."
  • "What happened to just messing around?"
  • "You just sit and get stoned with 30 year olds and you think you've made it."
  • "Well, shouldn't you be fucking with somebody your age?"
  • "I told you from the start, I'll break your heart."
  • "She's definitely got the style."
  • "I'd like to say you've changed, but you're always the same."
  • "I'd love you to stay but that's simply insane."
  • ""Well, I think I'll say a couple of words if you don't mind..."
  • "You've seen so many faces that I've never seen before."
  • "We're never gonna lie to you."
  • "I know it's me that's supposed to love you."
  • "Is there somebody who can love you?"

rosymamacita  asked:

Oooh congratulations! I'm so excited that you're taking prompts. How do you feel about fake dating AUs? Or maybe fake marriage even. How about with a side order of "doing it to save my friends".

“You’ll want to be careful with my sister,” Roan advises as they walk through the hushed halls of the old church. It’s been remodeled since the war, Bellamy thinks, but the high ceilings and stained glass windows remain is surprisingly good condition. “Nialetta’s been a queen since she was eighteen, a widow since she was twenty. She’s fair, or so I’ve heard, but bored.”

Next to him, Clarke rolls her shoulders back in a way that makes her just slightly taller, a trick Bellamy finds endearing but also pointless, since most people seem to forget Clarke’s size the second she opens her mouth. “She’ll listen to us,” Clarke says, assured.

Roan responds with a noncommittal hum, one that Bellamy doesn’t love, but before either he or Clarke can respond, the big oak doors open and Roan steps forward to lead them into the Queen of Tariokru’s receiving chambers. A woman in her late twenties looks down on them from the remnants of a pulpit, eyes sharp and calculating as Bellamy watches them sweep first over himself, then Clarke and finally lingering on Roan. The stained glass window behind her throws arcs of colored light across the floor and Clarke glances up at him, face lit in blue. Bellamy gives her reassuring quirk of his lips.

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36. - Home is Where the Heart’s at.

If there’s a question of my heart, you’ve got it
It don’t belong to anyone but you
If there’s a question of my love, you’ve got it
Baby don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you
Baby, I’ve been making plans, oh love


It was barely 11am in the day and I was already exhausted and more than ready to give up on this task that Knoelle and I were tackling today. The stray curls that had escaped my bun stuck to my sweaty neck and mouth felt like cotton due to the lack of water. 

Reaching over Knoelle’s body, I grabbed her bottle of water and didn't think twice as I let the cool contents slide in my mouth and down my throat. “Mmmm water never tasted so good”, I moaned with appreciation as I handed the now half empty bottle to her and allowed her to finish off the rest.

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anonymous asked:

I like the angst, TBH. And hey, if you're still up for cheating requests, can you do a SITS cheating fic/headcanon (your preference!) about the SITS guys cheating on MC.... And MC deciding to leave them for good... Like Ryo... Ish! Ba-Dum-Tsh! (I'm sorry, I'm a terrible human being).

Hoping this is what you were looking for! Forgive me if it’s terrible. My first headcanon for scandal. Enjoy! 😘

Possibly last one for the night, next one is proving lengthy. Hubby is home and dragging me out for Christmas returns, food shopping, and distributing NY bagels like a drug deal 😂😂😂

And PS. Writing these cheatings broke my heart, I had such a tough time, I just wanted to make them all happy together 😭

Kyohei: His head was aching. What the hell happened last night? The morning sun shining through the curtains was way too bright. He must have had more to drink than he thought last night. Keeping his eyes closed Kyohei reached over to your side of the bed, wanting to feel you close. When his arm found cold sheets, he blinked his eyes open in confusion. Sitting up in feel, running a hand through his messy bed hair, he instantly awakened seeing the state of the hotel room.

It was a mess. Clothes were everywhere, as well as alcohol bottles galore. Fuck that’s a lot of alcohol. Expensive alcohol. The two of you must have gotten drunker at the bar than you both realized, to have then raided the hotel mini fridge. As Kyohei examined the room, a flash of color caught his eye. Sliding out from under the warm sheets, he staggered closer. Bending down to pick it up for closer inspection. He was puzzled. He knew for a fact you would never wear such a naughty pair of panties. You’d be way too embarrassed at just the thought of it. So why were they here?

A buzz from his phone distracted him. Groaning as the incessant buzzing was worsening his headache, he went to see who was disturbing him. His eyes widened. It was a text from you?

“Destroy my name in the industry if you want. I’m leaving. Revance. You. Worth it if I never have to see your cheating, disgusting ass, ever again.”

Iori: You were hurrying down the street. No idea where you were going. Anywhere would do. You just had to leave, another second with them, him, would have suffocated you. A vibration in your hand startled you. Don’t know why, after all he’s been calling nonstop for the past 10 minutes. You silenced it long ago, the constant ringing giving you a headache. The vibration paused, only to start up again almost immediate. In a moment of weakness your thumb hesitated over the green answer button. Feeling the regret at once, you pressed down. Bringing the phone to your ear, you refused to greet him.

“You’re leaving me?” Iori exclaimed in a breathless whisper that stung at your heart. No. You can’t. Won’t feel bad. This is all his fault.

“You kissed her.” Replying back, your aching heart twisting reliving the moment over in your head.

“We discussed this, it was for the music video.” Iori responded, his voice empty of the believable conviction you needed. Desired. If only it was true.

“You weren’t filming Iori. I- I can’t do this anymore.” You stutter trying your best to remain strong.

“Come back. Please. We’ll talk.” Iori’s typical strong, determined, bold voice, fell immediate. It was hesitant, Heart breaking. Choked up with emotion he tries never to show. It almost got to you, it was so convincing. Biting your lip your finger hovered over the red end call button. Lingering.

“Ryo had the right idea. I can’t anymore.” Click.

Kota: “You’re jealous.” Kota eyes you with a blank expression. You groan in frustration and twist your hands together, so then won’t accidentally wring his neck.

“I’m not ‘jealous’.” You try to deny using exaggerated quotation marks with your index and middle fingers. Kota lifts an eyebrow but otherwise remains quiet. Ugh. Fighting with him is pointless. Like arguing with a blank wall.

“She’s just the lead actress.” Kota shrugs and turns to walk away, motioning for you to follow. You stomp your foot and stubbornly remain in place. He was not getting away with this because he refused to fight. His attitude was causing a desire to do a drastic action to build up inside.

“Who you were kissing! Kota! Don’t you see what’s wrong with this?”

“It was practice.” Another damn shrug. Your temper was burning at the surface, ready to let loose.

“No, she’s a skank trying to get into your pants. She’s clearly using you for the attention.” Kota remains poker faced through your accusations, which rises an eye roll from you. “Whatever. Remain oblivious but I won’t be walked over and cheated on for the sake of fame. We’re through.” Turned about you go to leave the residence. A feeling of satisfaction swells up as Kota’s eyes widen, as if the impact of the situation finally hit him. How unfortunate it’s far too late.

Takashi: “Takashi! How could you?” Tears overflowed and rolled down your cheeks. Your hands were clenched tight against your chest. It hurt. Everything hurt. Takashi stepped forward his arms outstretched, as if wanting to soothe your pain. It was way too late for comfort. Yelling at him to stop halted him in place. Turning aside so you only half faced him, half ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“I’m sorry.” His whispered words pounded in your head. Bouncing. Baffling you.

“Sorry can’t take back the fact that you slept with another woman Takashi!” You screamed back, knowing the rest of Revance could overhear this disaster occurring. He deserves it. They should know what kind of person their respected ‘leader’ is.

“Literally… slept.” Takashi mumbles. Repeating his same argument, as if it made it any better. Busy arguing within yourself, you realized Takashi had braved on. Trying to defend his actions. “- inspired, I didn’t know. Was lost composing.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” Furiously wiping away your tears, taking a deep shaky breath and trying your best to remain strong. “How do you think it made me feel? Coming to find you, only to discover you sleeping away, cuddling with someone else?”

“We didn’t do anything.” Takashi stepped forward once again, his hand skimming your arm when you panicked. Almost tripping yourself to step away.

“No. Don’t. I can’t trust you anymore.” Flinging open the door with a loud bang. Flying down the steps, prepared to head straight for the door. Needing to escape, to breathe, to leave all this behind. Ignoring the rest of Revance, who were lingering somber at the bottom landing, not caring they were caught overhearing. Avoiding their outstretched hands, ready and wanting to comfort.

“Find someone else. I can’t be Ryo anymore.”

Preference #26; "Miles Away"
  • based off the song by Memphis May Fire and Kellin Quinn ayyyyy
  • Calum: "They said it gets easier, but they lied. She looks at me and says "Really baby? I will be just fine," but then she looks away so I don't have to see her cry." Another day, another tour starts. God, you were so proud of Calum, like a mom at her childs soccer game. But you never wanted him to leave. You wanted him home, in your shared bed everyday, but that was selfish. He was living his dream, and who were you to hold him back. So standing at the turnstall, you force a weak smile at the boy you loved. "Really baby, I'll be fine," you nod, reassuring the boy that it was okay for him to leave. It would be months, and you understood that. He shook his head, "No you're not. I can't just treat you like this. You get me for a week, I leave you for a month. You deserve so much better, (Y/N)." Calum begins to choke up, his voice cracking during your name. You get up on your tiptoes, becoming level with those puppy dog eyes you loved so much, "Calum Thomas Hood," you speak, "There is no one better. I'll miss you, but I've got skype and snapchat and twitter and texts. I'll. Be. Fine." And with that, you press your lips to his quickly. "I love you." Calum nods, picking his bag up off the floor. "Text me when you miss me. I love you, beautiful." He's only just left your line of sight when the tears begin to flow. You pull your phone from your pocket, texting him four simple words. I miss you already.
  • Ashton: "How am I supposed to be everything they expect me to be when I feel so alone, cause I left my heart at home. She needs me, but I know they need me too. So God, give me the strength to do what you created me to do." The fans screamed as Ashton excited the car. Girls everywhere shouting for him, trying to gain his attention. "Ashton, smile for us!" He couldn't even seem to do that. He was so lonely, so desperate for you, that he trudged past the fans, ignoring every single one of them. Once inside his hotel room, he almost slams your number into his phone, shaking with anticipation. Your pick up, trying to hide the fact that you had been crying, "Ash- Hi!" Ashton then looses it, breaking down into tears. "I miss you.." he mumbles. You knew what you had gotten yourself into when you agreed to be Ashton's girlfriend, but it always hurt. You knew the fans needed him just as much as you did, but days like these were hard. Days where you almost wished he wasn't famous. But you were proud of him, of what he had done, so you pushed that thought away quickly. "I know. I miss you more," you get out, now crying too. "I don't know if I can make it through this without you (Y/N). I'm just.. Empty. I need the strength to do what I was created to do, but without you here I don't have it," he's shaking, leaning over the bed, almost angry. But thats when the idea hits him, "Come on tour with me. You're on break from school. Please, baby, please." And who are you to say no to his pleading?
  • Michael: "Really I'm so thankful for the people I meet, the places I've been and the things I've seen, but when she's not here it doesn't feel like I'm living my dream. I know they say that no one is perfect, but I swear she's perfect for me and that makes it so much harder to leave." "It's nice to meet you too, man." Michael nodded, waving to one of his childhood idols. It was so cool, meeting people he looked up to, visiting places he never even knew existed. This is how life was meant to be, lived to the fullest. His phone buzzes, and he knows its you. Facetime from Baby Emo. He laughs at the nickname before answering you, "Hey Baby Emo, how are you?" he asks, smiling up at the camera. On the other end, you smile back at him, "Missing you, but great. How about yourself?" "Well, I just met Dougie of McFly, so pretty damn great." You laugh, "Living the Aussie dream, huh?" you ask, playing with your sleeves. "It's not living my dream if you're not here," he almost whispers, watching you on his little phone screen. God, even lagged-pixelated you was perfect. "Don't be a cute cunt, Mikey." you laugh. You were perfect for him, he smiles, letting out a real laugh, "I'm being serious Baby Emo! All of this would be ten thousand times better if I had my smoking hot babe with me." Your eyebrows knit together, "Whose this 'Smoking hot babe' you speak of? Are you cheating?" It was a joke, but Michael takes it serious. "Not even if Jennifer Lawrence asked me to bang. I've already got the most amazing woman to ever walk the earth." You're blushing, grinning like an idiot at how cute your boyfriend is, "You're doing it again, Mikey." "Maybe it's just in my nature to be a cute cunt, Baby Emo!"
  • Luke: "If you miss me, I'm just a phone call away. Please be strong, be strong for me. I need you to show me how to change the inside of me. For my heart, for their sake. Be strong, be strong for me!" Luke was your rock. Your whole being. He's what keeps you alive. And not being around him kills you. Without your sunshine, you just dull and whither into the grey skies. And right now, those skies were just swallowing you whole. You wanted Luke, no more like you needed him. The phone rings almost too long before he finally answers, "Hey cutie!" his voice chirps on the other line. "Luke," you breath out, over the lakes of tears just streaming down your face. Just that voice could make everything better. On the other end, hearing you like this breaks Lukes heart. He can't be there for you when you need him the most, he's failed as a boyfriend. "(Y/N), baby girl I'm so sorry... I need you to be strong," he's fighting back tears. "Be strong for me." Because you, you're his sunshine, what makes him happy when skies are grey. And knowing that you're down, makes him down. And when he's down, the fans are down. It's like an endless cycle that Luke wants to keep from happening. You hear the desperation in his voice as he almost begs you to stay strong, you simply nod, but remember he can't see you. "I will. I want to make you proud of me when you get back at home. That I kept shining, even at my worst." Luke nods himself, "And even if you don't baby girl, I'll still be proud of you for surviving. And I'll shower that cute ass face of yours with kisses." You smile, sniffling, "And we'll bang, right?" you joke, giggling quietly. "Hell yeah, we'll bang!" Luke laughs, glad that he was able to cheer you up. "Ew, tmi Lucas," Calum wrinkles his nose, walking out from the bathroom.

anonymous asked:

Still think they know what they're doing after episode 3? I feel he need to keep coming back to you because you're writing shows such depth of thought about the psychology of Kate Beckett and you're one of the few people who felt the break up made sense after 8x02. So I am very inclined to trust your analysis, but people are making a lot of good points about how weirdly this is being written now. Particularly: (non) reactions of others, sending him mixed signals, equating with his disappearance.

I’m not sure what that list is in reference to exactly, because I usually stay away from people’s reactions. But here’s what I see happening this season:

We’re all talking about it.

End of story. Period. Point made. There’s quite a huge conversation going on about Castle, isn’t there? Quite a lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Except it does signify - it signifies that shaking things up woke all the sleepers, and now we’re all talking about it again. Now we’re passionate and inspired and righteously indignant.

I actually really like what they’ve done. I think it’s organic to their characters, and I think it takes a hard look at the psychology and personality types of these two alpha characters - and then extrapolates some of their more melodramtic tendencies. I mean, it’s a television show, let’s not forget. But as far as accurate and fair, yes. I think they’re hitting both.

There are ISSUES here that just have never been dealt with, never been looked at. Castle was GONE for eight weeks and it was somehow okay that it was for the CIA or for a rogue agent or terrorism or something? No, I just don’t like gaps. There were all these gaps the last few years, and I felt like my job as a fanfic writer was to plug the gaps, like that Dutch boy before the dam, just sticking wads of words into the holes.

But I think this run of three episodes has given us continuity again. The opening scene with Castle alone in his bedroom and the heaviness - the weighted feeling, that drag out of bed, have to face the day again feeling. Wow. That was done so well. And then that made it absolutely clear that he’s trying to fill this hole in his life the way he always does - toys and gadgets and relentless optimism. That scene near the end when he’s talking with Alexis and he says something like, it almost worked, right? Like you can see that little boy heart of him, and how he wants to believe it will work out in the end, that his dreams do come true like he tells himself they do.

And then with Beckett. Seriously, these actors are doing phenomenal jobs with their facial expressions. The absolute tenderness she regards him with. Telling him to go home, he’s drunk, and how much yearning is in her eyes, how the moment he’s led away, how she deflates. How he says he messed it up, being selfish about trying to get her back, and she takes the time to reassure him.

All this continuity makes me happy. And I can see where they’re headed - how Beckett is being a responsible cop and a concerned citizen and something of a superhero (and seriously, don’t we love her because she’s a superhero, doesn’t he?), and she’s decided that too many people have died. Allison, this woman from the AG’s office, didn’t you see the picture of her family? And so Beckett sees how it’s full circle now. How it’s another man in the darkness taking a mother from her child, and the child will grow up with the same complex she did, and it just goes on and on.

And somewhere in there, I’m sure, is that sense that she actually wanted kids with Castle. That she thought of having that bright future with him. First person to pull that into dream into such almost touchable reality. And what kind of world is she really living in? Not the dream world. So then she has to try, as best she can, to make the world right. She does go tilting at windmills. The only problem is, Castle just wants to be her Sancho Panza (Don Quixote’s simple farmer-turned squire recruit). She told him before - plucky sidekick always dies. 

So this season or half season will be a lot of Beckett trying to fight for justice - quickly - before Castle blunders in and gets himself killed. And I like that. She’s still fighting for them. She just has a Beckett way of doing it. Just as Castle has his way - locking them in a jail cell together to solve a murder. It almost worked.

Teen Wolf Preference: Past Lives

You all sat around the table with the psychic, hands joined together, all gathered around the table. You were told the answer was to be dug up from the lives you experienced before. So you went back to a certain time. But some of the faces were more familiar than others.


You heard the rocks on your window and opened the wooden boards outwards as you saw the cape climb up the stones of the house. He stopped where you were, clutching your window in order to keep up. His grin was as wide as his face at the sight of you.

“She needs a message sending?” One of the perks of this job is he got to see you every time he came.
“Yes. She says to tell him to stop being so reckless. He almost got caught yesterday and next time, he may not be so lucky.” You told him sternly, as she had told you.
“It was one small thing. Is she really that worried?” He asked you.
“He was almost killed. She doesn’t want to run away and marry a man with no head.” You told him.
“He almost gets killed in a daily basis. What’s the difference?”
“That’s far from the point.” You told him.
“But it’s Robin. We can’t cage him.”
“But he got so close to the Sheriff. You know Marian, she worries.” You told him.
“I know.” He sighed.

Then his face turned up like a dogs ears when there’s a whistle.
“And what about you? Do you worry about me?” He smirked at you cheekily.
“I thought you were just the carrier bird?” You teased.
“The Fair Y/N has a worst bite than her bark it seems.” He joked back.
“And you? Are you running away with us?” He asked.
“Perhaps. Can’t let Marian have all the fun now, can I?” You smiled.
“So, do I get a kiss from the Fair Y/N?” He asked.
“Deliever the message. Then you get a kiss.”
“You don’t half like to tease me, do you?” You didn’t reply, but gave a small smile to him before taking small steps back into your room.

You then heard the crunching of leaves from outside and ran over to the window on the wall to your left.
“In here, now.” You ran over to Liam.
“Why?” He asked, not having time to register as you grabbed him and heaved him over the window sill. You were about to fall back from the weight shift when you felt two arms around your body; and opened your eyes to find Liam holding you close, your noses almost touching. You closed the space in between, soft lips melting into yours as your heart fluttered with extreme daze.

“I’m beginning to think you pulled me in for the kiss and not the guard.” You were about to laugh at him when you heard footsteps from heavily within the stone walls.
“Y/N!” Was called out.
You and Liam looked at each other with wide eyes.


External image

Your dress was tight around your torso as the members of the household tied up your corset and drenched you in the finest makeup.
“I don’t understand. If he is to see me at my worst anyway, what is the point in making me into a porcelain doll?” You asked your mother as you grunted.
“Because first impressions are important. He can decided there and then if wishes to continue this marriage or if he wants to leave.”
“And after you shall find me another suitor and we shall do this all over again?” You told her as she sighed and walked up, taking your face in her hands.

“I have no doubts in you. I made sure I found a suitable man. Well, boy. He is your age. Not like those petty girls who have a thirty year old to look after. He is aware of your high intelligence. And I’ve heard he’s respectful.” She told you before leaning in and mumbling:
“And he is incredibly handsome.”

You wanted to pull a face of disgust at your mother.
“You’re married. And he’s 25 years younger than you.”
“That does not mean I cannot admire a good looking young man when I see one.”

You rolled your eyes as you followed her out the door before you saw the brown eyes, tan skin, soft hair and lopsided smile. He stared at you with his mouth slightly ajar, making your cheeks turn red, even with blush already layered on it. But when he realised that he was staring he quickly straighten up, clearing his throat before giving you a small smile. He then advanced towards you.

“By Victoria’s throne…” You mumbled as he took hand up to kiss it.
“It is a pleasure to meet you Dear Y/N. The beauty your mother described you with does not do you justice.”


You awoke in a cot, the room rocking from side to side. It was built of complete wood and obviously part to a ship. But this didn’t make sense to you.

The last thing you remembered was liquid overtaking your lungs, your ship breaking at the lightning shoots, your crew and everything reduced to rubble underneath the seas rage. You should be dead right now.

You sat up taking heavy breaths as you sat in your bed, a large nightgown over your body and a blanket covering your legs.

Your head whipped to the side with wide eyes as you heard the door open. In walked a girl, slender, with soft rosy cheeks and her hair gently braided down her back. She wore a leather hat on top of her head, a white baggy shirt with a waistcoat tied around the front and boots clomping on the floorboards.

“Some clothes.” She stated to them, leaving them at the end of your cot beside your feet. She watched you curiously as your mouth opened but no words came out.

“H-how did I get here?” You asked her, intrigued. Her tinted pink lips smiled softly at you.
“We found your body floating adrift at sea. You still had a pulse. It was weak. But you were alive. And we have a very good doctor on board.” She informed you. You nodded.

“It must’ve cost a lot to agree for the doctor to come on this voyage with you.” You stated, swinging your legs around to hang over the edge of the bed.
“Agree?” She laughed slightly when she realised you didn’t know yet.
“He didn’t agree. He asked to come. He was discovered to of dug up the graves of the dead to examine them. His only option was to run off with others who were hunted.”
“Wait, so you'r-” you were entranced. You had never heard of a woman being a crewman, never mind a, a-
“Yes. Now, when you have gotten changed, there is food waiting on the deck for you.” She explained, before tipping her hat at you and exiting the room. Your breath was caught in you throat. They had saved your life. But it didn’t change the fact that you were still on a pirate ship.


“Slow down the car.” You held onto your hat as the wind whipped into your face. You looked over to a smiling Isaac, controlling the motorcar through the country lanes. You shifted yourself to sit closer to your lover, leaning your head on his shoulder as he carried on driving before stopping. He held his hands on your waist as you jumped out of the vehicle, holding you close before placing a kiss full on your lips. He grabbed the basket and you went to sit down.

That was before the war. Before Hitler had came into power. You were happy together. Then Isaac was recruited. You hadn’t heard from him in months.

You sat with the box in your hands. You had found it cleaning one day and you found you couldn’t do anything else but cry. You often found yourself wandering mindlessly down by the tree where you spent your anniversary picnic. Among the ring, you found many crumpled up papers, speeches he began but never finished, dismissing them when he decided they weren’t worthy of the proposal.

There was a knock at the door, breaking you out of your thoughts. You stood up glumly as you went to look out the window for an army recruitment officer who always forgot that there was no boy in your house. But that wasn’t what you saw. You saw the army green uniform, a massive bag being carried across his back and his side cap representing that he had just been fighting for his country.

You almost sprinted to the front door, throwing yourself into his arms when you got the chance. You broke down. He just held you close, letting you sob into his chest as he stroked your hair, peppering kisses on top of your head and whispering how much he loved you.

And when you finally did draw away, you raised up on your tip toes to desperately kiss him, putting passion, pent up emotions and relief into the one amazing kiss. But when he managed to get away from the intoxication that was your lips, he brushed his fingertips down your arms and into your hands; gliding his fingers through yours as he knelt down on one knee.


It was a good idea she said. It was fine to sneak out she said. Just put on the dress she said.

She never said you were going to an illegal speakeasy.

Downing another shot you watched as she stared around, sizing up the men in the room. Your mother would have a heart malfunction if she could see you. The short dress only just reaching your knees, heels on, feather in your hair, drinking alcohol and about to dance with a man whose age you have no idea of. She already thought the short hair was ridiculous and locked you up in your bedroom in the attempts to keep you away from this new rebellious age.

The band switched songs and gasped as the trumpets began playing the familiar song.
“I love this song.” You proclaimed to her.
“When did you hear it? Couldn’t of been here.” She was laughing, taking a sip out of her glass.
“It’s always played on the radio.”
“Then,” she placed her drink down on the table and grabbed your hand.
“Let’s go dance.”

She literally dragged you to the dance floor as you began to wave your arms and legs about to the piano riffs. But you liked it. You liked it.

And then, in a split second, you made a decision. You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, the way her strawberry blonde hair highlighted her plump pink lips or the fact that this music was making you feel ecstatic, alive - but you grabbed her, and kissed her.


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You rode your bike around the corner, along the cobblestones, ringing your bell as children ran off the streets to make way for you. You stopped by the small house where you ran in and requested the woman’s husband to bring you blanket and towels immediately.
You were walking your bike up the hill, exhausted. The woman hadn’t full dilated for another 6 hours. You puffed, as she was quite a handful, and her husband didn’t sit and keep quiet either.
“Y/N?” You heard the voice call from behind you. You stopped as you saw him there, the mechanics son with a dirty apron and baggy black clothes.
“Hello Stiles.” You sighed as he walked up to take the handles from you.
“I’m not allowing you to walk it up here. You look exhausted.” He commented.
“What a gentlemen.” You joked lightly.

“Mrs Gennings down the street?” He asked.
“Yes. And he sure wasn’t small, I’ll tell you that.” You informed him.
“But, I can’t complain. I’m in a job which I’m very happy at and one bad patient doesn’t suddenly make me wish to quit.”

“But being a midwife can be a pain in the arse. I mean, pregnant women can be very… very…”
“In pain?” You reminded him with a smile as you got to the top of the hill.
“Grumpy.” He shrugged.

“Then maybe you should be there to enlighten them with some of your comedic remarks.” You mocked him.
“Couldn’t. Would hate it. Don’t like blood.” You nodded, beginning to mount your bike again.

“Do you remember when I fixed up your bike chain and you said you owed me one?” He asked you before you went off.
“Yes, why?” You asked him, curious as to why he’d brought up that particular memory.
“Well, why don’t I give you a break. I’m in need of some good company. You come out with me and I can teach you the secret to my comedic remarks.” He stated. You grinned at him before coyly looking at his red cheeks.
“I would love to.”


You rolled your eyes as you sat amongst your chair, stone pillars as high as Giants. You were on display, less like a jewel in a casket and more like an animal in a cage. Your father, the emperor, celebrating his current victory in battle with his best warriors. All while trying to find a suitor for you.

You sat back, slumped into the chair. You knew your mother would be along in a moment to tell you to straighten your back, a woman with bad posture does not attract a good man. But it was then one walked up the few stairs below you to hand you a goblet. You gave the man a questioning look.
“Wine. We are celebrating.”
“I am not celebrating. I am being auctioned off.” You informed him bitterly.
“Then you may need the drink more than you think” he told you as you took it. You then began to admire the man. There was no doubt he was handsome. He muscles seemed almost as stern as his jaw, blue eyes entrancing but clashing against the black hair.
“Who are you solider?” You asked him.
“Decimus.” He stated.
“Decimus? What kind of name is Decimus?”
“I don’t know, what sort of name is
Y/N?” He asked you back. You raised your eyebrow with a smirk. He had been the first one to ever challenge your judgement.
“Shall we toast?” You asked him, as he sat upon the stairs to keep you company. You held up your wine as he did.
“To A New Rome.”
“To The Roman Empire.”

A/N: I’m sorry. That’s bad. Decimus was the closest roman name I could find to Derek.