you have grown up to the man you were destined to be

10 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,308

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence and alcohol

Originally posted by eatupbangtan

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Two small red pills, one of the white ones and a fresh bottle of water.

Caring for your brother had become somewhat second nature to you, Jackson and Bambam were recovering quicker than Yugyeom expected; which left Jimin in the false hospital wing alone. Both you and Sung took it in turns to keep him company, the other one catching up on sleep when you swapped over. It was safe to say Jimin hated his younger sister and girlfriend looking after him, he was supposed to be taking care of you two not the other way round.

Another week had passed since the night that stole Jimin’s sight, the manor house was quiet because albeit nobody could find the right words to say. It was awful to observe the usually strong warrior men resemble lost sheep, without their leader in good health the boys would wander aimlessly down the halls; occasionally escaping the confined walls only to return to the same stone cold silence mere hours later.

It was a Thursday morning when Sung announced she and Jimin were taking off for a week, after endless research and countless sleepless night she had managed to find an ophthalmologist who claimed there was a possibility Jimin’s sight could be restored with stem cell treatment. You were ecstatic to say the least, throwing your arms round her petite frame as you were both overwhelmed with hope.

“That’s amazing! Are-, he thinks he can do it?!” You gasped, squeezing her even tighter.

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punsbulletsandpointythings  asked:

Your myth retellings are gorgeous. Would you tell another please? Maybe something with Hermes?

Pandora is made from earth, shaped by the hands of Hephaestus and made in the image of his beloved wife. Aphrodite gifts her with grace and charisma. Athena teaches her to weave and bestows cleverness upon her.

She stands in front of Hermes, and the god frowns and touches her with a single fingertip on her chin, moving her head one way than the other. “They’ll eat you alive,” he says, and she doesn’t understand.

She tilts her head to the side and smiles a vacant smile. All of the cleverness in the world will do her no good without any context. “We are the same,” she says, pressing a hand to Hermes’s chest. She is made from earth and has the skin to mach. He is a celestial god, and his skin is the same rich shade of brown.

He did not ask to be born any more than his mother asked to bare him. His creation, just like hers, is at the whims of Zeus. All for some little lost fire, all because Prometheus wanted his people to be warm, and, well, he is the god of the thieves after all –

So he gifts her with deceit, with selfishness, with cunning. Her smile leaves her face all at once as she’s filled with self-awareness. “He’ll be angry with you,” she says, “I am not what you were supposed to make.”

“Gods have short memories,” he says, and doesn’t bother to hide the contempt in his voice. “Do not worry about me, gifted child. You have larger problems than my fate.”

He has turned her from something pure into – something more like him. Her face darkens even further as her perfectly crafted mind slots all the pieces together, and he can’t help but find her lovely. It’s how she was made, after all. “I can’t stop it, can I? Whatever they’re planning for me to do?”

“No,” Hermes says, “but now you might be able to survive it.”

“Will I want to?” she asks, and he doesn’t answer. She doesn’t expect him too.

~

She hides from everyone, lives in a cave at the edge of the city. The gods had called her the first woman, but that’s not true, she can see.

There are women. They smile and laugh have work roughened hands. She aches to join them, but she has the beauty of a goddess. They will know. If she joins them, they will know she is not of them, and it will set into motion whatever trap Zeus has planned.

She is not human, not in the same way, molded from clay by a god’s hands. But she is of humans, and not eager to bestow upon them the harm she’s destined to bring them. She bathes in streams where only nymphs reside, steals into the city in the cloak of night and pilfers from the baker’s trash.

“When they said they sent my brother a wife,” a low, amused voice says too close behind her one night, “I had not expected a begger.”

She whirls around, hard bread clenched tight in front of her, an incredibly inefficient shield. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees him, dark and tall and eyes like the night sky. He looks like Hermes. Like her. “Who are you?” she demands. They’re in an alley corner, and of her gifts flight is not among them. She’ll have to fight him to get away.

She’s not afraid of him. Maybe another mortal would be, cornered in the middle of the night by a man she doesn’t know. But she’s no normal mortal woman, and besides – he has something comforting about him, like the hearthfire attended by Hestia. Something warm.

“I am Prometheus,” says the man, and no wonder he reminds her of fire. “What do they call you?”

“You are meant to be in the deepest pits of Hades’s realm,” she snaps, and shifts her grip on the stale bread so that she can throw it at him. He’s the whole reason she’s here to begin with, him and his thievery.

He shrugs and walks closer to her, watching her like one would watch a wild animal. Good. Here, in this dark alley where no one would find a cooling body until morning, it is he that should be afraid. “Gods forget,” he says, “and Hades had grown cold in his place beneath the earth.”

She pauses, considers. “You stole fire for Hades?”

“No,” he corrects, “I stole fire for the people. But Hades benefited as well. Enough that he was willing to forget the terms of my punishment.”

“What do you want?” she asks for the second time. “Why are you here?”

He stops, too close to her, “The question is why are you here?”

She steps into his space now, following him as he backs away from her, “I am here because of you, fire-stealer, because gods may forget but they do not forgive, and I am the punishment they have unleashed upon the world.”

“What a punishment you are,” he says, looking at her lips, and she forgets to hate him only long enough to kiss him.

~

Hermes watches her, watches them. He doesn’t know Zeus’s plan, if this is part of it or not, but he watches her, and he worries. He thinks it is, he can see Aphrodite’s magic clinging to Pandora, but he doesn’t know why.

He would go to his mother, but she’s always difficult to find, Gaea preferring to live in streams and rivers rather than face the man she bore a son for. But his mother’s father, on the other hand, is always in the same place.

“Grandfather,” Hermes greets, touching lightly down onto the earth, “How are you?”

“How am I always, boy?” Atlas grunts out, legs and arms straining as he holds up the sky above the earth. “Tired.”

Hermes lips quirk up the corners. Some days, he thinks he’s more Atlas’s grandson than he’s Zeus’s son. “I need some advice, Grandfather.”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

So Hermes tells him everything, from beginning to end, because he can’t figure out what his father’s plan is, but Atlas might. He’s known the man for longer, at least.

Atlas nods, slow, and says, “A bride of gods, a gifted child. I can think of only one reason to create such a child.” Hermes waits. Atlas sighs and says, “There is a jar, within Olympus, that becomes sealed when it leaves the realm of the gods. After that, only a being neither mortal nor celestial may open it.”

“What are they planning to put inside?” Hermes demands, heart spiking. What are they planning to unleash upon the unsuspecting earth?

His grandfather smirks, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is this – what are you going to put inside?”

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February/March fic rec!

I suck, I know. I’m late. This is ridiculously short. 

(ok, it’s not short now, but it was before I added in some fics that are gathering dust in my inbox to be read. There’s more fics I haven’t read in this rec than the opposite. oops.)

The Morning After the Night Before (4K): Harry and Louis have more or less grown up together, even now as adults it’s tradition for their families to spend a few weeks in the summer at a beach house together. Problem One: Louis has been in love with Harry forever. Problem Two: It wont stop raining.

I Slam Therefore I Am (4K): Louis and Harry are both creative souls but they aren’t friends, not by a long shot. This is the Rival Slam Poets AU that no one asked for.

I Found A Love (4K): Or the one where Louis is a nerdy English major who may just run into his happily ever after while working his shift at the local library.

Come and Kiss Me Like the First Time (5K): Louis meets Harry at his sister’s wedding.

just the sound of your voice (6k): It’s just. Harry’s so fucking quiet during sex and now Louis’ obsession with it is…it’s incessant. Louis questions it day and night, the enigma of it buzzing around his head like an annoying mosquito — all of the reasons why he’s so quiet consuming every one of his waking thoughts. Like, maybe he turns into an alien during sex if he’s not really careful? So he has to concentrate so hard on not turning into another creature he’s effectively struck mute from it. Or maybe…maybe he’s like one of those people who’s into tantric sex, like Sting or a throwback from the 1960s? And when he’s about to orgasm he travels to another plane of existence or something.

Twelfth Night (6k): Queen Anne holds a masquerade ball to try and find matches for both her children on Twelfth Night. While anonymity reigns, Prince Harry spends the ball getting to know a handsome stranger. 

‘Til I Tasted You (15K): Louis is Harry Styles’ biggest fan. It doesn’t matter that Harry is famous for being a food blogger and Louis can’t cook to save his life. At least, until Harry offers to give Louis a cooking lesson. Then it matters just a teensy bit.

Carried Away Like Butterflies (17K): It was probably a huge mistake for Louis to let his former One Night Stand move into his spare room, especially when said One Night Stand doesn’t seem to remember him.

Then We Talk Slow (20K): A famous/non-famous AU in which Louis banters back and forth with his new record company on Twitter, only to find out that Harry is the man behind the tweets.

Dance Like Warriors On A Battlefield (20K): Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand. As it is, his father rarely gives the kill order anymore. He gives the order to let the loser live. Louis rolls his eyes, turning away. He doesn’t miss the way the gladiator’s eyes linger on him.

Like Candy In My Veins (31K): Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.

All the Right Moves (32K): This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back. There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

The Reason Is You (37K): Louis is running out of time to find a summer job. His best friend offers him one that promises early mornings, late nights, long hours, and the best people he’ll ever meet. Lucky for Louis, one of those people is Harry Styles.

tangled up in you (45K): There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

Safe and Sound (You’ll Always Be) (58K): When a failed case and a guilty conscience leaves Harry more than a little lost, his boss presents him with a new, less taxing assignment to help him cope. An escape from all the madness is just what Harry needs to get his life back on track. It’s just too bad his new client has a grin like the devil, a pair of electric eyes that Harry simply can’t get over, and no intention whatsoever of letting him catch a break.

Feels Like Coming Home (60K): The last thing Harry Styles expects when he’s hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that’s exactly what happens. After a spectacularly ugly break-up three years prior, Harry hasn’t heard one word from Louis, and he’s moved on. Gotten over him. But having Louis back in his life, not to mention working at the restaurant where he’s a chef, isn’t easy, and the feelings that Harry thought he’d left turn out to be not so easily forgotten.

When We Were Younger (76K): Sixteen year old Harry Styles’ world turns upside down when he logs on to gay teen chat to discover somebody has stolen his photos and used them as their own.

Perfect Storm (80K): What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding. Harry and Louis choose the latter.

Dress you up in my love (103K): Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall’s bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself. 

Harry is a lawyer whose boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.

We Are Only Just Beginning (129K): In the dim light of a dorm kitchen, Harry Styles meets a boy who flips his life upside down. Three years later, he’s a senior in college, ready to take on the world with the love of his life by his side. And then Louis Tomlinson admits he doesn’t know what he wants to do after college after all, and Harry’s world flips again, this time not so pleasantly. He can’t imagine his life without Louis, but he’s starting to worry he might have to.

Aşk/Love

I honour of Valentine’s Day coming up here’s a list of words and phrases related to love and romance.

Pet Names

  • Aşkım - My love
  • Canım - My life (can be used by friends and family as well)
  • Bi(r ) tanem - My only one
  • Hayatım - My life
  • Sevgilim - My darling
  • Balım - My honey
  • Yarim - My love (Similar to aşkım, but meaning a destined written in the stars kind of love)
  • Sultanım - My sultan  
  • Tatlım - My sweety (generally used for girls)
  • Güzelim - My beautiful (used for girls)
  • Çiçeğim - My flower (used for girls)
  • Gülüm - My rose (used for girls)
  • Meleğim - My angel (used for girls)

General Love Related Words

  • Sevgililer günü - Lovers’ Day (Valentine’s Day)
  • Evlenme teklifi - Marriage proposal
  • Nişanlı - Fiance 
  • Rüyalarımın erkeğisin/kadınısın - Man/Woman of my dreams 
  • İlk göz ağrım - First pain of my eye (can be used with first love or first child/grandchild)
  • Ciğerimin köşesi - Corner of my liver (term of endearment used with loved ones to relay they are precious)
  • Buluşma/Randevu -  Date
  • Nikah - Islamic marriage
  • Düğün -  Wedding
  • Sevgili - Boyfriend/Girlfriend
  • Manita - Girlfriend (slang, used for casual short-term relationships, can be offensive)
  • Öpmek -  To kiss
  • Öpücük - Kiss
  • Buse - Peck  
  • Sarılmak - To hug
  • Sarılma - Hug 
  • Kara sevda - Black love (meaning blind love or intense love)
  • Mecnun -  Insane/Obsessed/Possessed (meaning madly in love, reference to the character Majnun in the 11th century Arabian tale of Leyla and Majnun. Qays falls in love with Layla as a child but once they are grown he is forbidden from marrying her. Qays becomes obsessed with Layla hence gaining the nickname Majnun meaning possessed. If you call a man Mecnun it means he is head over heels in love with a girl and obsessed over her.)
  • Meftun - Strongly infatuated (poetic word, rarely used in regular speech)
  • Ruh eşi - Soulmate
  • Koca - Husband
  • Karı - Wife
  • Eş - Spouse 
  • Sevmek -  To love (to have deep affection for, not romantic in all cases)
  • Aşık olmak - To fall in love
  • Aşk/Sevda -  Love (romantic)
  • Sevgi - Love/Affection (usually used in the platonic sense) 
  • Gençlik/Çocukluk aşkı - Young/Childhood/Puppy love 

Questions

  • Benimle çıkar mısın? - Would you like to go out with me? 
  • Sevgililer gününü benimle geçirir misin? - Will you be my Valentine?
  • Benimle dans eder misin? - Would you like to dance with me?
  • Benimle evlenir misin? - Will you marry me?
  • Biraz daha kalabilir misin? - Can you stay a little longer?
  • Seni bir daha ne zaman göreceğim? - When will I see you next?
  • Sensiz ne yapardım? - What would I do without you?

Romantic Phrases

(Some of these phrases aren’t common, but when I saw them on the internet I thought they were cute and worth sharing.)

  • Seni seviyorum. - I love you.
  • Senden çok hoşlanıyorum. - I like you very much.
  • Seninle olmak istiyorum. - I want to be with you.
  • Seninle kalmak istiyorum. - I want to stay with you.
  • Seni çok özlüyorum. - I am missing you very much.
  • Seni görmek istiyorum. - I want to see you.
  • Çok güzelsin. - You are very beautiful.
  • Çok  yakışıklısın. - You are very handsome.
  • Sen benim herşeyimsin. - You are my everything.
  • Sen benim ilk ve son aşkımsın. - You are my first and last love.
  • Seni bütün kalbimle seviyorum. - I love you with all my heart. 
  • Seni her zaman düşünüyorum. - I think about you all the time.
  • Seni kelimelerin söylediğinden daha çok seviyorum. - I love you more than words can say. 
  • Sensiz hayatımın tadı olmaz. - Without you my life has no flavor/ sweetness/ pleasure.
  • Ellerini hiç bırakmazdım. - I’d never let go of your hands.
  • Tek ihtiyacım senin sevgin. -  All I need is your love.
  • Sensiz yaşayamam./Sensiz yapamam. -  I can’t live/do without you.
  • Sana aşık oldum. -  I fell in love with you.
  • Sana ihtiyacım var. -  I need you.
  • Seni her zaman seveceğim. -  I will always love you.
  • Aşkım gün geçtikçe büyüyor. -  My love gets stronger day by day.
  • Aşkımız ömür boyu sürecek. - Our love will last forever.
  • Hayat seninle harika.  -  Life is wonderful with you.
  • Uzak olmamıza rağmen hep kalbimdesin. - Even though we’re far away from each other, you’re always in my heart. 
  • İlk tanıştığımız gün benim kalbimi çaldın. - You stole my heart the first day we met. 
  • Seni gördüğüm an aşık oldum./ Seni görür görmez aşık oldum. - I fell in love the second I saw you 
  • Sen benim için çok şey ifade ediyorsun. - You mean so much to me. 
  • Sana olan aşkımı taşıyabilmek için yüz kalp yetmezdi. A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you. 
  • Sen benim güneşimsin, aşkım. You are my sunshine, my love. 
  • Biz birlikte olmak için yaratılmışız. We were meant to be together. 

themoskabot  asked:

holy crap ok so i just thought of an ml au fusion, and you were the first ladybug blog on my dash so here goes: what if you combined blind!adrien au, and the au where your soulmate's first words to you are written on you. so like adrien would come to school and drop something and he'd be looking for it on the ground and marinette would come running up and say something like "oh let me help" and she'd see what she said written on his arm and then he'd say what's written on her arm and she'd (1/2

(2/2) completely freak out and he’d ask what was wrong and she’d just turn completely red and shove the thiing into his arms and run off and escalate even more in her freak out (partially because of the soulmate thing, partially because he’s hot and she’s marinette). anyway, you can go about your business, i just had to tell someone


@qookyquiche

Adrien begrudgingly woke up, his incessant alarm shattering his dreams. They had been pleasent, from what he could remember. His mother had been there, safe and warm. Colors and lights had danced around him, just as they did so long ago. Adrien wondered, as he often did, what it would be like to see again.

He remembered what it was like, of course, but there was only so much to draw on. He had lost his sight at a young age, due to a chance encounter with a faulty piece of construction equipment. A bolt here, a snapped belt there, and Adrien became a sunglasses aficionado. His mother and father had sued to hell and back, getting a settlement so large they could replace most equipment in Paris twice over. Although, Adrien apparently still had to model per his father’s request, but that train of thought was a little too depressing this morning.

Instead, Adrien yawned and stretched, sitting up before shutting off his alarm. Still groggy, he tried to sit up straight, mentally preparing himself for the day. First, he had breakfast plans with his best buds, Me, Myself, and I, followed by lunch with rousing conversation from his inner monlogue, and dinner plans under the stars. Well, there could be stars. His ceiling could look like anything at this point. Interrupted, of course, by various photoshoots, home-schooling, and asking his father about public school.

Wait.

School.

Public School.

SHIT.

Quickly, Adrien ran through his room, pulling himself together as quickly as he could. Of course he would almost forget about school, the one day Nathalie actually managed to convince his father it wasn’t too dangerous. Under guard, of course, but that was nothing new. One of the surprisingly few benefits of having no friends over to change his room, is that he had memorized where everything was, able to walk around with confidence. Vaulting over various pieces of furniture, he scrambled together what he could only assume were the highest brands of fashion, since they had been pre-selected by Nathalie the night before, and ran out the door. Slowly, he walked back into his room, picking up his faceted cane he kept by the door. Feeling along the wall, he perused his selection of sunglasses.

“It feels like… A rimless day.” He muttered, grabbing a sleek pair of glasses with metallic bands.

Items in hand, he ran down the stairs, meeting the man simply known as Guerrilla at the door. Flipping on his shades, Adrien snapped his cane to the side, locking it in place. He was thankful Guerrilla was the one escorting him today. Of all the people in his life, Guerrilla was one of the few who didn’t think Adrien was made of glass. He didn’t take Adrien’s arm, or coddle him through life. It was a welcome change of pace, though it could get a little cold at times. Sitting in the car, Adrien could hardly keep still, esctatic to finally learn what a school was like.

0o0o0

Marinette’s alarm jolted her awake, almost making her fall out of bed. She was an incurably deep sleeper, so her mother had insisted on getting one of the loudest alarms on the market. How she had grown to loathe that machine. Still, she had actually woken up to her second alarm, giving her even less time to get to school.

Throwing her outfit together, she found herself once again lost in the faint birthmark along her left forearm. Everyone knew about Soulmarks, the destined first words spoken to you by your true love, but no one really ever talked about them. It was a simple fact of life, like having five fingers on each hand, or waking up just in time to be late to school. Besides, the birthmark faded after they were spoken, so if you had a mark, you hadn’t met The One, simple as that. Still, she couldn’t help but think that anyone who still had their mark felt the same confusion she did.

“And I felt so good about Rimless today.” Seriously, what the hell did that even mean?

Shaking herself out of her confusion, she ran down the stairs, dragging her bookbag behind her. With a quick breakfast and quicker goodbyes, she ran out of the bakery, making her way to school. That is, until she heard the faint ringing of the school’s bell, signifying to all students outside of the grounds that they were, unfortunately, late.

Groaning, Marinette picked up in speed, barely registering the black car pulling up beside her. As she ran, she kept her eye on the main gates. It was unlikely, but they might have instituted some new rule of locking out late students, and she would not be locked out all day. Many things would go over well with her parents, but that is not one of them. She was about to change course, climb the steps three at a time, and jump through the gates for a three point landing, until she ran full speed into a blonde boy getting out of a car. They both toppled to the ground, his bodyguard standing beside himself in shocked silence. It took the two of them a moment to actually react, each for wildly different reasons.

For Adrien, he was simply shocked that someone had snuck up on him like that. Sure, he hadn’t been fully paying attention, and he might have been a little too jittery with excitement, but he usually prided himself on his awareness. Still, this stranger had not only snuck up on him, but tackled him to the ground, all without him noticing a thing. She was like a ninja. A sneaky, clumsy, ninja.

For Marinette, her mind was working overtime, trying to grasp the fact that she had just tackled Adrien Agreste to the ground. Adrien Agreste. The same Adrien Agreste that she had seen a thousand times in her favorite fashion magazines. The son of her idol. Who she had just tackled to the ground. Whose sunglasses were now shattered a ways away. Who was trying to get up now.

Wincing through a scraped elbow, Adrien noticed a missing weight on his face, and reached up for his glasses. Feeling nothing but air, he started pushing off the stranger, trying to find one of his favorite pairs. Stunned, Marinette got off of him, still not quite sure how to process everything that just happened.

Reaching his shattered glasses, he clicked his tongue, saying, “Damn. And I felt so good about Rimless today.”

Finally catching up, Marinette rushed out, “Oh my gosh I am so sorry please don’t hate me I didn’t see you there that was my fault I was trying to get to my class and I’m gonna be late and you’re blind and I just broke your sunglasses I am SO SORRY, here please take mine.”

Holding out her hands, Marinette held a pair of white sunglasses, a floral print wrapping around its bands. With her head bowed, she caught a glimpse of Adrien’s arms, almost cradling his broken shades. And there, wrapping twice around his forearm, was a sprawling wall of text, slowly fading into his skin.

The last words to go were, “Please take mine.”

And that was when Marinette screamed.

Escape:  the residency years

Jamie sat with the book open on the round table, colourful post-it notes sticking out at every angle.  He took a huge bite of his sandwich, and talked around the mouthful to his sister, Jenny.

“So that’s normal, then?  The back pain?”

Jenny wiped her mouth before answering.  “The baby is growing.  Her centre of gravity is shifting.  She’s also under stress, what with her hours and such, but yes, back pain is perfectly normal.”  She smiled at her brother as he delved back into her copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting.  Such a numpty. “Ye worry too much, brother.”

He grunted, and flipped the page.

“And the spotting?  ‘Tis still normal?”

Jenny stilled.  Spotting?  At five and half months?  She took a sip of her water trying to moisten her suddenly dry throat, and kept her voice as neutral as possible.  “Well, how often is it?”

“No’ verra often at all,” Jamie said, “It’s only I noticed it when I did the laundry at the weekend, ken.”

Jenny breathed again.  “Aye, well for some women it’s the way their pregnancies go.  As long as Claire tells her doctor.  She’s on her feet too damn much at the hospital.”   

Jamie made a Scottish noise deep in his throat.  

Jenny went silent.  Her sister-in-law was deep into her residency, and doing well.  Still, she hadn’t been to Lallybroch for a Sunday supper in three weeks. Jenny missed her company, but more than that she just wanted to give Claire a day of rest.  Jamie had come alone, and seemed fine with it so Jenny was trying hard not to judge.  His noise reminded her to keep her opinions to herself.  He would be nothing but supportive, which was how these lunches began.  Seeking advice, he’d taken to bringing lunch to his sister’s office, and asking her question after question.  At first Jenny found it annoying, so she dug up her old dog-eared copy of her pregnancy ‘bible’ with its notes in the margins, and handed it to him.  When he came back the next week with take away fish and chips, and the post-it note pages she decided to embrace what would become a ritual.  

Jamie closed the book, and began to clean up their mess.  He threw away their trash, grabbed the book, and kissed his sister on the top of her head.  “Thank ye, Janet.  Love you.”  He headed back to his office.

Jenny called after his retreating form, “Love you, too.”  And keep an eye on that wife of yours, brother. 


Claire’s bump grew, slowly at first.  A barely discernible curve to her belly. Around the fourth month Jamie was amazed at her suddenly changing silhouette.  And now, towards the end of her fifth month, he loved to rest his hands on the side of her belly and feel the wean squirm and shift in her womb. It’s how he ended every day, and if he was honest, it was the best part of his day.  

Most days Claire got home from the hospital tired.  Jamie would send her to the shower while he finished getting dinner ready, but tonight she came in full of energy.   

Jamie met her at the door to help her off with her coat.  Claire kissed her husband hello, and launched right into her news.  “I wanted to tell you about an opportunity I was given today,” Claire said, dropping her backpack by the door, and shrugging out of her coat. 

“Oh?  What is it, Sassenach?” he said, turning towards the closet. 

“I’ve been offered a chance to study in France for a couple of weeks.  It’s at Hôpital des Anges, in Paris.  I can do a two week rotation with two of the most renowned doctors there, Dr. Foray, and Dr. Raymond.  They are amazing.  Dr. Foray is Head of Diagnostic Medicine, and Dr. Raymond has an holistic approach to medicine that I find fascinating.”

Jamie smiled.  “Weel, it’s flattering, to be sure.  What did they say when ye turned them down?”

Claire watched Jamie hang up her coat.  “I didn’t,” she said, carefully.  “I didn’t turn them down, Jamie.”

Jamie turned slowly to look at his wife.  He took two deep breaths.  

Then two more.  

She couldn’t be serious.  There were dark circles under her eyes.  The stress and strain of her residency was written all over her face. 

Hands jammed in his pockets, Jamie cleared his throat, and said as calmly as possible, “Claire.  Ye’re almost six months along.  I appreciate how wonderful this chance is, but I think it’s prudent to think of yerself and the bairn first.  And while I ken ye are working here, and the hours are tough, ye still come home to me.  I can help take care of ye.  They’ll be no such thing in Paris.”

“You won’t come?”  Once it was out of her mouth, Claire realized how silly that sounded.  But it was too late to take it back.

“Have I no’ a job of my own?  I’m CEO of a company, Claire.  It doesna run itself.”  He would not point out how selfish she sounded.  He would stay calm if it killed him, dammit.

Claire shifted from foot to foot.  She decided to step back from this conversation for now.  “Dinner smells wonderful.  Do I have time for a shower?”

“Aye,” Jamie said.  He turned for the kitchen, wishing to put distance between them for a bit.

Dinner was mostly a silent affair.  They kept the conversation easy, light, and neutral.  Jamie’s usual appetite was markedly different, while Claire just pushed her food around her plate.  She managed a few bites, but only when Jamie broke through her reverie saying, “Claire.  Please eat.  For the bairn.”
After cleaning up the kitchen, Claire announced she was heading to bed. 

Jamie watched her climb the stairs, fatigue in her steps, and disappointment in the curve of her shoulders.  Emotions warred inside his head.

Claire’s emotions were equally at war.  She brushed her teeth, her mind in turmoil.  She wanted to go to France, dammit!  Two weeks was not a long time. Being a resident was so competitive, and she could use this opportunity to give herself a leg up.  She left the bathroom night light on for Jamie, and climbed under the duvet.  Turning off her lamp, she rolled over on to her side, and stared out their bedroom window.  As tired as she was, sleep alluded her.  Her thoughts twisted, turned and swirled around her head like the child inside her womb.  She laid a hand on her belly hoping to calm the baby.  Instead, the difficulty of the situation kicked her heart as surely as the baby kicked her side. She felt at a loss.  How could Jamie possibly understand?  Fraser Distillery was his legacy.  It was his, served up on a platter.  Even if he hadn’t wanted to join the family business, he still had all that love to support him; a safety net, so to speak.  She, on the other hand, had to create her own opportunities.  She had no name, no family, no history.  She was plain Claire Beauchamp, and nothing more.  

Claire rolled to her back, and looked over at the framed photos on his dresser. In the semi-darkness she could still make them out.  Jamie with his father, and Jenny.  A younger version of herself with Uncle Lamb.  While he’d grown up with Lallybroch, she’d had a tent in some far-away country.  They were both destined for greater things, but it was the achieving of these things that was different.  Hers was an uphill climb, alone, with only her inner drive to support her.  His came with a father who taught him the ropes, and family to help him succeed.  Claire knew she could never say this to Jamie, though.  It would hurt him.  He worked hard, never used his family name for his own gain, and she respected him for that.  He was an honourable man, and would be offended by her thinking.  He never asked for his privileged life, and didn’t rely on it.  But that didn’t negate the fact that it was still there. 

She heard the dishwasher start.  Heard Jamie check the door as he locked up. She heard him climb the stairs.  She expected to see him enter the bedroom, but instead her ears caught the familiar sound of the window opening.  He was heading out to the fire escape.  It’s where he went when he was feeling too much.  Whether troubled, grateful, overwhelmed, or overjoyed, Jamie sought solace on that iron platform. 

“Babies are supposed to bring people together, not separate them,” she whispered to the empty pillow beside her.  

He stayed out there a long time.  Just when she thought she should go to him, Claire heard the window close again. 

She stayed quiet as he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness.  She listened as he shucked his clothes and slid under the cover.   His body brought a chill to the sheets.  

This was their time.  This was the part of the day when Jamie would place his large hand, warm and dry on her belly, and softly stroke her skin.  He would grin at the baby’s movements, and say silly things to their child.  Sometimes he’d speak in Gaelic, and refuse to translate for her.  He would lock eyes with her, and whole conversations would pass silently between them.

He didn’t touch her.

She rolled towards him, willing to make the first move.  “Jamie,” she whispered. She slid her hand along the bed until she found his hand, clenched and cold, and placed it on her bump.  

She heard his breath hitch.  She swallowed, hard.  “I understand what you’re saying, Jamie.  I do.  But I really want to go.  It’s not the same as what I do here.  I’ll be shadowing them, watching and learning, that’s all.  Just during the day.  It might actually be more restful.  It’s such an important opportunity.”

He was tempted to pull his hand back, but a little nudge from his child made him pause.  He closed his eyes, and tried to control the tension he was feeling. It took them five years to conceive this child.  One missed opportunity already on a long ago Valentine’s Day.  

The only thing he’d ever wanted more than this child was Claire.  

He took a minute to gather his turbulent thoughts, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her bump.  “I understand, too, Claire.  I do.  But I’ll no’ pretend I’m not worrit.  I promised ye honesty, so here it is.  Ye get caught up. Ye ken ye do.  Ye do things sometimes without thinking them through.  I’m afraid ye’ll forget yerself, and overdo.”

“Jamie, don’t worry –“ she started to say.

“No, Claire.  Must I bear everyone’s weakness?  Can I no’ have my own?  I do not want ye to go to Paris.”  He voiced his innermost fear, the fear that came to him on the fire escape.  “Bad things tend to happen when we’re apart.”

“Horrocks,” she whispered.

“Aye,” he breathed back.

Claire stayed silent.  Her mind twisted and turned remembering the past. Impulsively, she spoke, “Could you meet me?  Take a Friday off?  Come for a long weekend?”  

A Dhia, she was stubborn.  He didn’t want to argue anymore, so he placated her. “I’ll give it some thought.”

It was a start, she thought.   She scooted closer to her husband.  “I love you, Jamie.”  She laid a hand on his jaw, kissing him softly.

“I love you, too, mo neighean donn,” he said, gruffly, returning her kiss.  “Now, ye sleep a bit.  Yer worn out.”  He tucked her head against his neck, and stared out the window as darkness surrounded Edinburgh.  He shifted the duvet higher around her shoulders, cocooning them both, just as the bairn was safely nestled inside his wife.  He would stay like this for the next three months, if he could, protecting them with his body.

Two weeks.  Not a long time.  

Yet, there was one thing Jamie Fraser knew, and knew well.  Trouble didn’t have a timeline.  Sorrow could come on a sunny day.  One moment you could show up to work, laughing with your best mate, the next scarred for life with no father, your friend an amputee.  

Two weeks.  A lifetime.      

Secret Relationships (Thomas Jefferson x Hamilton!Reader)

Originally posted by alexander-hamiltunes

Prompt: “Oh my God, you love her!”

Summary: Being Alexander’s younger sister isn’t always the easiest thing in the world. When you have to hide the fact that you are dating his enemy, Thomas Jefferson, it becomes even harder. How will Alex react?

Warnings: Lying? Ummm, maybe some Out Of Characterness, but I hope not.

Time Period: Hamiltime

Words: 2230

A/N: Hey guys! I really am so sorry for not posting a story recently, but school as gotten to me. However, I have a couple of stories almost ready to post. (and sorry about the title, still trying to work on that.) More exciting news: I started this blog 3 weeks ago today and I almost have 300 followers!! You guys are the best thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the story, and please send in some requests, my inbox is empty. Have a wonderful day!

Being the younger sister of Alexander Hamilton was not the easiest thing in the world. While you loved your brother dearly, there were times that he could be a bit too stubborn. Most of the these situations happened during dreaded cabinet meetings, or “battles” as they had been renamed.

Usually, you would avoid going, but Alexander would beg and plead with you until you gave him. The reason you dreaded them so much was because of the talk. Most people there believed that because Alexander was your brother, you could apparently control how he behaved. Not true.

One particular day, you and Alexander were walking side by side to the meeting. You walked along in comfortable silence, so your mind drifted to the upcoming battle. Alexander was going up against a man named Thomas Jefferson. They would be debating over whether or not the government should accept Alex’s plans for the nation to assume state’s debts.

After arriving, you wished your brother good luck and went to find a seat. Looking around, you pulled the hat you had worn, further down. Maybe then people wouldn’t openly tell you how idiotic they thought your brother’s ideas were. Not long after you got settled, President Washing walked into the middle of the room followed by Alexander and Mr. Jefferson.

Everything happened so fast, you were unsure where to look. Mr. Jefferson claimed that each state should be responsible for their own debts. he also tried to insult Alex by saying his plan was too long to understand, but you just laughed because he had just insulted himself.

Unfortunately, Alexander came back with full force. You but your lip and kept your head down, praying Alexander wouldn’t say anything too rash. Your ears tuned back in to the conversation when you heard your brother shout,

“Bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits!”

Your head snapped up and your eyes went wide. All around you, everyone was going crazy, discussing who they sided with most. Ignoring all the talk, you rushed to your brother and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the crowd.

“What the hell was that, Alexander?” you cursed, not caring if anybody overhead her.

“What do you mean?” he asked rather confused. “Jefferson was out of line so I put him back in his place.” Alex tried to defend.

Before you could respond, President Washington walked behind your brother. You quickly curtsied out of respect and watch Alexander’s eyes go wide as he walked away with his commander.

“Serves him right.” you mumbled, smoothing down the wrinkles on your dress.

Glancing around the room, you saw Mr. Jefferson talking quietly with Mr. Madison. Sighing heavily, you began the journey towards their spot. Somebody had to apologize for Alexander’s actions.

“Mr. Jefferson.” you stated and both men turned to face you.

“Yes, may I help you, Miss…” he began, but trialed off when he realized he did not know your name.

“Hamilton. (y/n) Hamilton.” you introduced yourself, but hurried on once you saw the distain in Jefferson’s eyes grow. “I, um, I came here to apologize for my brother’s words. He was partially in the wrong, and we both know he is too stubborn to admit it.” you confessed.

“I agree.” Jefferson agreed bluntly, but added on to his statement after noticing your look of disbelief. “But I accept your apology and offer my apologizes, Miss. Hamilton” he told you.

“Thank you.”

‘How is it that we have not yet met, Miss. Hamilton?” Jefferson inquired. “I’m sure I would not forget a face as beautiful as yours.”

You blushed and look down at the floor. ‘Well, Mr. Jefferson, you have been off in France.” you pointed out.

“That is true, and please call me Thomas.” he insisted.

“Only if you call me (y/n).” you countered.

Neither of you were able to say another word because it was then that Alexander stormed over to you and puled you behind him, distancing you from Thomas.

“(y/n), what are you doing talking to the likes of him?” Alex spat.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Thomas beat you to it. “We were having a perfectly civil conversation until you came over here, Hamilton.”

Sensing another argument, you stepped between the two men, holding each of them back. “Both of you are grown men, so let us stop fighting like children. For goodness sake, you are both dignified members of government.” you chided.

Then, you turned to your brother and tried to reason with him. “Alexander, I do not need to be protected, I was simply apologizing to Thomas for your behavior. Now let’s-”

“Thomas?” your brother seethed, and you quickly pulled him outside to head back home.

“I’m so sorry against, Thomas. I hope to see you again soon.” you called over your shoulder, offering him a smile.

“Goodbye, (y/n).” you heard him respond, and the rest of the way home you had a blush on your cheeks as you ignored your still fuming brother.

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The Brave And The Burdened

Inspired by @hellogarbagetime ‘s art and post

This will again be a multichapter fic. I hope you guys like it enough to stay interested :)

It was a warm, spring’s day when Captain Steven Rogers, the leader of the Queen’s commandos, set foot towards the troubled black valley and beyond on Her Highness’ command. It was a direct violation of the ancient rule, a betrayal of the passed-down treaty between the isolated kingdom of Mannahatta and Brookeland; the one which promised solitude and trespassing of none into the former in exchange of the unparalleled metals of Mannahatta for the soldiers of Brookeland. Steve himself had heard and respected this treaty ever since he had been a young lad, too frail to lift a sword. It had been unquestioned and a little unexplained but the people of Brookeland weren’t always known to question their guardians. Young Steve, with his large azure eyes and a sharpened jaw from all the blows that cut it in the alleys, had asked his mother once about it. He had been dragged back from the borders of Brookeland by Bucky, who had not let go of Steve’s frayed collar till he had deposited the lad in his ma’s lap, frowning and glaring like Steve had personally grieved Bucky.

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Behold French!Graves

Or, that one AU in which Grindelwald erased Graves’ memories and dumped him in Europe, leaving him alone to rebuild his life from scratch. Everyone believes him dead. Newt and Credence run into him in France by accident. 


They’d been staying in Paris for a couple of days, trying to find the wizard Newt was searching for. Another supposed expert when it came to magical beasts. Newt absolutely wanted to talk with him about the Beast of the Gévaudan, and other legendary creatures he’d heard originated from France.

There were staying at a Hotel in separate rooms, a cheap but nice place to be with everything they needed. America was far behind, now. It had been two years since the debacle with the Obscurus in New York, and a year and 9 months since Newt Scamander found Credence residing in his suitcase, occupying the freezing landscape in his Obscurus form.

He’d taken Credence with him, refusing to tell anyone about his discovery, and offered to teach Credence magic. With Newt at his side, Credence had grown. He’d learned to raise his head higher when he talked, had learned to be more confident when he expressed his opinions, had learned to say what he liked and disliked and most of all, he’d learned to control the dark force within him and now managed to do actual magic. Sure, there was still a lot to accomplish yet, but Credence was a far cry from what he’d been a few years ago. He’d let his hair grow as well, getting rid once and for all of the horrible haircut Mary Lou gave him. It was still short but it curled around a bit, giving his face a gentleness he thought didn’t resemble him.

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Silent (Soulmate!Thomas Jefferson - Part Two)

Originally posted by youforfeitallrights

A/N: Tags haven’t been working, just a heads up. 

Well I got quite a few requests for it, so here is a part two to the Thomas Jefferson Soulmate AU I posted earlier this week. I apologize for it taking so long, but I had some other things I had to finish first. Thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged part one and everyone who requested a part two. This isn’t my best, I know. I’m sorry, but I hope it’s okay.

Again, starts with James Madison’s point of view and shifts to Thomas. I don’t think there’s any warnings necessary for this. It does deal with the topic of mutism, but that is not something that is being debated in any way. It’s just a piece of the characters’ background.

Part One    Masterlist

There are three facts about Thomas Jefferson of which James Madison is absolutely certain: 1) Thomas Jefferson had a soulmate. 2) Thomas Jefferson was the only person alive who could rival Alexander Hamilton’s ability to stick his foot in his mouth. 3) The look on Thomas’s face right now was not that of a man who didn’t want a soulmate.

Thomas was sat on a bench outside in the foyer when James found him. His elbows were on his knees, and his head was in his hands. He looked…lost, or as close to lost as a Jefferson could get. He wasn’t crying; there was no shaking in his shoulders for that to be the case. He was, however, mumbling to himself, something he only did when he was truly overwhelmed.

James couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his friend in a state like this. Nothing ever rattled Thomas. At most, things got under his skin, but in those situations he had a habit of attacking the problem head on. He didn’t dwell on anything; he faced it. Look at Alexander Hamilton. The poor young man hadn’t even made it ten minutes into a conversation with Thomas before the two had launched into a full blown battle.

This man on the bench was a side of Thomas James did not think existed, or at the very least would not be seen in public. He didn’t know whether to comfort him or try to talk sense into him. Whichever one he chose would surely be the wrong answer. Undoubtedly, the right answer was to let Thomas sit there wallowing in his self-pity for an age until the man finally decided what to do for himself. That wasn’t an idea James could handle, though. James had a sneaking suspicion that Thomas would brood the same way Thomas did all things, in excess. James didn’t like seeing his friend suffering, even if there were a number of people in the other room who felt he deserved it, even if James felt he deserved it sometimes.

James sat down in the open seat beside Thomas with a hefty sigh. That was another fact he could add to his list: Thomas never made things easy. “It could be worse.”

“How could it be worse?” Thomas spat, disapproving of James’s nonchalant tone.

“Well, I ran across a young girl back home who met her soulmate when she was quite young. His first words to her, at the age of five, were, ‘You have a booger hanging out your nose’.” Humor probably wouldn’t help the situation, but it couldn’t hurt either.

James didn’t need to see Thomas’s face to know he was rolling his eyes. “Oh yes, it is so much worse to have a crude, inadvertent observation of a child plastered as your soulmate words than it is to have the incredibly cruel and offensive words of a grown man implying he’s disgusted with you.”

“You aren’t though,” James pointed out, “disgusted with her. It was a moment of anger.” James paused for a moment as a thought occurred to him. “Y-You…” He hesitated to ask, “You aren’t disgusted with her, correct?”

“Of course not!” Thomas growled out.

The silence hung in the air for a long beat, and neither of the men really understood why nor did they make an effort to. Not even the sound of dinner being served in the banquet hall interrupted the moment that had settled over the pair of friends. There was so much to talk about and yet so little to say.

“I have a soulmate,” Thomas broke the silence with a quiet murmur, so quiet James wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it.

“So I’ve heard,” James slumped back against the wall. “Who’d have ever thought?” His tone was teasing, but there was an air of finality to it. In all honesty, no one had ever thought Thomas would have a soulmate, and not just because he didn’t have words on his arms.

Thomas snorted dismissively and finally pulled his face from his hands, glancing back over his shoulder at James. “James, I have gone my entire life knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I would live and die alone.”

James leaned forward, elbows on his knees, sinking down to Thomas’s hunched frame. Now wasn’t the time for teasing. Now wasn’t the time for coddling. Now was the time to be honest with his friend, for his own good. “I can’t pretend I understand your pain, because I don’t. Not just because I’ve always known I would find my soulmate, but because I don’t understand how you could be upset with this. You’ve just found your other half. You’ve found a part of you that you never knew existed. You should be jumping for joy, shouting from the rooftops, not sulking angrily in a corner. You don’t have to live alone anymore, Thomas, but you still might.”

Thomas said nothing for a long moment, and James shook his head in disappointment. No one could get through to Thomas if he wasn’t open to listen. He heaved himself to his feet and prepared to head back to the banquet.

“I-I’m not angry.” Thomas quietly refuted, giving James pause. “I’m just… confused.”

James sighed and turned back to the bench, looking down at Thomas, who was looking back at him with burning eyes. “You’re confused?” James didn’t intend to sound so disbelieving. “Thomas, imagine how she must feel. You heard Mrs. Washington as well as I did. She’s spent her entire life thinking you hate her, thinking her soulmate hates her. Even her one true love, the one person in the universe she’s destined to be with, is disgusted by her.” James paused for a moment, hoping that would sink in.

Thomas didn’t respond, but his eyes went down to his arm, the space where the words should be. His thumb rubbed over the blank skin, stretching it over the muscle beneath. It was as blank but somehow felt far less empty.

“James,” Thomas shook his head and looked up, “I…” His voice trailed off when he realized James was gone, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

With a huff, Thomas’s head fell back. This situation went against everything Thomas had come to know. Thomas had always spoken out against soulmates. He wrote about, argued against the very concept of them. He’d debated the topic with Alexander Hamilton earlier that night even. As far as he’d been concerned soulmates weren’t a gift from the universe, they were a rope, more specifically a noose. At least, that’s what he’d always thought. Then again, he’d never known he had one to begin with. He didn’t know what to think anymore.

His entire life he’d thought he was alone. Yesterday, he’d thought he was alone. A few hours ago, he’d thought he was alone. Standing on the Washington’s front lawn, he’d thought he was alone. And now? He felt more alone than ever.

(Y/n) had ran from him the moment she knew who he was. Not the moment she knew he was Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of State. She ran when she knew he was her soulmate.

Martha Washington’s voice was yelling at Thomas in the back of his mind, ‘Ashamed of who she is, knowing you’re ashamed of it too!’ Of course she’d run from him. She thought he was ashamed of her. ‘Decades of hating herself.’ His words had made her ashamed of herself.

Only Thomas wasn’t ashamed. Ashamed of his own behavior maybe, but not her… never her. He’d only known of her existence for an hour. He only really knew her name, but he already felt drawn to her. ‘You must be her soulmate,’He could  practically hear George telling him.

Yes, she was his soulmate.

Thomas pushed himself to his feet with a sense of determination. Likely, (Y/n) had already left. He would have to find where you were staying to give his apologies. The Washington’s would know where she was staying. He knew Martha would sooner chew his head off than give him that information. George might be talked into it though. It was certainly worth a try.

“Decided to go after her, I see?”

Thomas nearly jumped. James was standing across from him, coming down the stairs at the other end of the foyer, a thin box tucked tightly under his arm. Thomas had been so wrapped up in his head that he hadn’t realized James had gone upstairs. He thought he’d gone back to the banquet. “Well, as you have so eloquently pointed out, I don’t have to live alone, but there’s a good chance my harsh tongue will ensure I do anyway.” Thomas snapped in a harsher tone than he intended.

“I’m glad you’ve seen the error of your ways,” James was practically smirking as he crossed over to Thomas. “Here, I borrowed this from George’s study.” He extended the box to Thomas.

Thomas accepted with a curious look, “What’s this for?”

“Well, she’s mute, Thomas.” James stated plainly. Thomas’s answering expression showed he wasn’t catching on, so James explained. “Writing materials, Thomas, honestly I thought you were the smart one. She’s mute. She uses sign language, and last time I checked you don’t.” James tapped the top of the box. “If you want her to talk to you, you’ll need her to write it down.”

“She’s still here?” Thomas hated how hopeful he sounded. If everything worked out well, James was never going to let him hear the end of it.

James nodded, smirk still firmly in place with no sign of faltering. “Saw her out the window of George’s study. She’s sitting on the steps on the back porch.”

James turned, leaving his friend to do with as he may, but Thomas caught James by the arm for a moment. “Thank you, James. Thank you.”

“Anytime, my friend.” He smiled. “Now, go. Don’t leave the poor girl waiting.”

Thomas nodded his affirmation and walked briskly down the hall without another word. There wasn’t time for words now. Thomas had a more pressing matter at hand. He’d, no doubt, discuss the situation with James again later.  

When Thomas stepped out back, (Y/n) was sat on the steps just outside, exactly where James said she would be. She was sitting on the middle of the five steps, her feet up laying across the length of the step.  Her hair was partially concealing her face as she stared out across the field. Clearly, she hadn’t expected anyone to come looking for her.

Thomas approached quietly, but not quietly enough as the boards creaked under his shoes.

(Y/n) turned and caught him halfway to the stairs. Her eyes were shining, but there were no signs she’d been crying, which relieved Thomas slightly. She caught her lip between her teeth for a second, clearly pondering, before she turned her gaze back to the field.

Thomas took it as a good sign that she hadn’t run, or spat at his feet, or tried to slap him, or any number of other offenses he probably deserved. She looked like she’d been thinking about it for a second before she thought better of it. He’d take it though. It was a step in the right direction, a step he hadn’t earned yet.

With a small degree of hesitation, bordering on nerves, Thomas lowered himself to sit opposite (Y/n) on the top step. It was a rather uncomfortable position. He didn’t completely fit on the step, and his knees were at an odd angle. However, it seemed to catch (Y/n)’s attention which was a start. Setting the writing material on the step between them, Thomas leaned his head back against the edge of the stairs to look at the stars.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back at Monticello, almost. There was a smell of grass in the air, but it was too faint. The breeze felt nice against his skin, but it was too cold. The stars were bright, but they were in the wrong position. Everything was just a little off, and yet for some strange reason it still felt right. He knew the reason; it was just hard to admit.

“I always wondered what it would be like to have a soulmate,” Thomas confessed softly, trying not to break the quiet, “to know that one day you will find the one, to know there is someone out there who is destined for you and only you. I always envied them, knowing there was someone out there to love them.” His voice sounded almost tired.

In truth, Thomas was tired. He was so tired. Tired of arguing his every breath, tired of monitoring his every word, tired of fixing other’s messes. He wanted a break from working, from thinking, from listening. He needed a break. He needed something, someone, to lighten the load.

“I never told anyone that, of course, not even James.” Thomas continued, “How could I? I could never admit such a thing aloud; I could barely admit it to myself: that I wanted something they had and I knew I never could.”

Thomas sighed. There was no good way to explain himself. Words were failing him, abandoning him. What was there to say? Nothing would take back the things he’d said. Nothing would remove those words off her arm. Nothing would ever show how truly sorry he was for every pain he had put her through.

A small pressure settled on Thomas’s bent knee, and he nearly lurched. (Y/n) was looking him over thoughtfully, a hand settled on his leg. He couldn’t be sure if she was trying to comfort him or wanted his attention. Either was a good sign. She didn’t look like she wanted to run anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas met her gaze head on. The sooner he said this the better. “In a fit of anger, I took it out on you. I had no idea it would mark you for life. You have to know I never would have if I’d known. Those words, they were just words. I meant nothing by them.”

(Y/n) raised a hand halfway in the air and then hesitated. She looked around in frustration and back towards the house. Lowering both her hands, she huffed out and looked down at her lap.

“Oh!” Thomas realized as (Y/n) stared down at her hands, upset. Picking up the box, he held it out to her. “Writing papers,” he explained.

(Y/n) nodded somberly and took the box gently from his hands. Thomas looked away as she set things out. There was something so vulnerable about her expression in that moment, and he felt wrong looking on.

Thomas imagined he would feel vulnerable as well. The frustration when she raised her hand showed that, wanting to communicate but being so dependent on others for your words. He was such a vocal man; he couldn’t imagine dealing with something like that. Thomas had to admit; he admired her for it.

Thomas felt a tap against the side of his leg and turned his eyes back to (Y/n). She’d turned the paper around between the two of them Blank ink in an elegant hand scrolled across the top of the page. ‘I appreciate your apology, but they were more than just words to me.’

“I’m sure,” Thomas conceded, looking up from the paper. “You have every right to think of them as such. They… I have caused you a great amount of pain. You have every right to every ill will you harbor towards me. I have earned them all. I just want you to know I said them with no malice directed toward you. My argument with Alexander Hamilton had me on edge, and in a heated moment I said something I did not mean.”

(Y/n) pursed her lips and turned the page around, writing hastily beneath her earlier words. ‘Yes, I’ve met Secretary Hamilton. He’s quite an infuriating character.’

Thomas barked out a laugh. “That is quite true. He simply cannot fathom the idea a person might disagree with him.”

(Y/n) bit back a smirk and continued filling the page. It was a tediously slow conversation as (Y/n) wrote, but Thomas was patient enough to wait for her replies. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless words, and it seemed to be relaxing (Y/n).

When she turned the page around again, she’d written near a paragraph. ‘I won’t falsely accept your apology, Secretary Jefferson. That would be rude to both of us. However, I do acknowledge that there were extenuating circumstances on your part. Please understand that I have been living with this offense on my arm my entire life, and it will not miraculously disappear after tonight. Knowing the situation does help, but it will not change that fact. I will do what I can to set aside that pain and move past it for both of our benefits, and I’m sure one day I will forgive you for it. Hopefully, that day is sooner than later. Although, I can make no promises of when that will be.

Thomas nodded along as he was reading. “I can ask for no more than that. You’re truly being far kinder than my situation probably deserves.”

(Y/n) smiled rather hesitantly at him and wrote in the small amount of space along the bottom of the page. ‘General Washington spoke at length about you before your arrival, and I’ve assumed this situation must be hard for you as well.’

“I would ask what he spoke about,” Thomas hesitated, “but if you know this is hard for me than I can assume what he told you.”

(Y/n)’s smile dropped, and she nodded reluctantly, pulling out a second page to scratch out, ‘I was sorry to hear about your wife, Secretary Jefferson. I have also lost a spouse. Not one I cared for, but it was still a painful experience. I would not wish it on anyone.

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, “You as well?” That was rather surprising. Most people with soulmates would wait decades, a lifetime, to marry the one. Thomas’s wife had only agreed to marry him because she had been widowed by her soulmate. They had loved each other, but she had never been in love with him the way he was with her. The memories of her soulmate had always haunted her, and when she passed it had only further confirmed his loneliness when he had to bury her beside another man.

Yes,’ (Y/n)’s hand was a little shaky over the admission. ‘I suppose I should also ask for some of your forgiveness. You did not know I existed. I knew of you, and still I married another. Forgive me; I did not know there would be any situation surrounding what you said to me. I assumed that you would you be quite a cruel man. My husband, John Aylett, turned out to be the cruel one.’

“Is he…” Thomas hesitated, not just because he was unsure of asking but because he was unsure if he wanted to know, “Is he the reason you are…”

No,’ (Y/n) immediately wrote out and showed him before turning the paper back to explain, ‘that was purely biological. Although, John certainly had no problem pointing out my deficiency. He was part of the reason I disliked the idea of meeting you. I assumed you shared his view.’

Thomas refuted adamantly, “I assure you I don’t. You have no reason to be shamed in such a way. Whatever else you think of me, believe that. I’m happy to accept who you are and help however I can.”

Like bringing me paper,’ (Y/n)’s expression was teasing, and it relieved Thomas.

“I cannot take credit for that. James borrowed it from President Washington’s study when I came to look for you. I was in quite a rush. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.” Thomas admitted.

Well give him my thanks. This conversation would have been rather one-sided otherwise.’ (Y/n) paused and huffed out a breath, ‘Like most of my conversations these days.’

“Not to worry,” Thomas actually smiled at this. “I almost always have paper on hand. You just caught me at a bad time…” His smile quickly morphed into his usual cocky smirk as a thought occurred to him. “And besides, I’m sure I will know sign language by the time we see each other again… I’m a very quick study,” Thomas winked.

The couple smiled widely at each other, and all tension broke.

When James came out to check on them an hour later, Thomas was practically rolling in laughter, clutching one of the papers to his chest, as (Y/n)’s face stretched in a triumphant smile. The pair, and most of the stairs, were covered in used writing paper. The box lay beside them with only a sheet or two left of what had been a full stack of paper.

James tried to bite back his wide grin. “Thomas, I believe you owe President Washington a new box of paper.”

Thomas simply chuckled and grinned back at (Y/n), “Yes, yes, of course. As much as he wants.”

anonymous asked:

Can you do a bughead au where they're in their 20s and hiding their relationship? Archie goes over to Betty's and sees male items (shoes, razors, deodorant, shirts etc) neatly placed around Betty's house almost like someone else lives there. Jughead then walks into the house with his own set of keys and archie figures it out

Sure!
****

“Ill be home in an hour, I love you.” He whispered against her lips as he lifted his bag from the hook on the door.

“Love you too.” Betty smiled, leaning against the door frame, waving lazily as her boyfriend headed out for his meeting with his publisher. They had made plans on a quiet night at home but an emergency at his cover shoot was pulling him away from his warm bed and his beautiful girlfriend.

He mumbled complaints as he headed out, tucking his head into his hood to avoid the ever present rain.

Betty closed the front door and flopped down on her couch, it was early may and the flower shop she had just bought was booming, she had always been obsessed with flowers, it was her dream to open her own florist shop and now that dream had come true. She was proud and she felt accomplished, it wasn’t what her mother had wanted but with age she had grown out of that perfect girl next door image and was now a successful 25 year old woman living with the love of her life.

As soon as she shut her eyes, she was interrupted by the banging knock on her front door. Rolling her eyes, she smiled. Jughead was always forgetting something. She opened the door with an eyebrow raise

“What is it this…” she was cut off immediately by the sight of the familiar red headed boy she hadn’t seen in four years.

“Archie?” She whispered, shocked to see him at her front door.

“Hey bets.” He shrugged his shoulders and shot her a beaming smile as he gently pushed past her and into her home. He looked the same, same silly strut, same goofy smile.

“ what are you doing here arch? Where have you been? It’s been years.” She stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

He turned to her with a distant look in his eyes
“ I’m back in Riverdale for good, I went off to LA for a bit, tried my hand at music, didn’t work out. I got a job here, I’m gonna be working for dads construction, probably take over. It’s what I was destined for anyway. What about you? I have you on facebook, you’re so secretive. There’s hardly anything on there. Ronnie wouldn’t even add me. What’s up with that?” He looked around her apartment as Betty stood there helplessly “hey can I use your bathroom?” He asked.

Betty just nodded, so much was happening she felt her anxiety building. She couldn’t tell him about her and Jughead, the poor boy had had enough disappointment she didn’t wanna add to it. She looked around frantically, moving to flip Down the pictures of her and Jughead, she pulled down the framed photo of the two of them at his first book launch, and she quickly grabbed the notes he wrote her that she kept laying around the house.

“Betty?” He asked from behind her. She turned sharply, her yellow dress flying behind her
“What’s up with all the dude stuff in your bathroom? Shower gel? Deodorant? There’s even boxers on the floor? You got a boyfriend?… a husband?” His eyes were accusing and he looked… hurt?

“I..” she started before his eyes shot behind her

“Is that… Jugheads beanie?” He practically whispered, darting around her to grab it from the couch.

“Archie listen…”

Her heart was racing and she felt her fingernails dig into her palms, she hadn’t done that since high school.

As if it couldn’t get worse, she heard the click of the front door unlock and she felt her heart in her stomach

“Hey love , my meeting got cancelled halfway there, i swear to god that mans an imbecile. Wanna order….” Jughead stopped mid sentence, his eyes darting between his former best friend and the current love of his life. Assessing the situation quickly he spotted his girlfriends balled fists and Archie’s slack jaw, he moved to Betty’s corner so fast he hardly had time to blink

“Jug? What the hell?! What are you doing here? Do you live here? Are you two…” he trailed off, eyeing the pair in what seemed like disgust

“Together.” Jughead finished. His arm draping over Betty’s shoulder and squeezing
“We’re together. Have been for five years, were happy and if you can’t accept that, you aren’t welcome in our home. You were my best friend Arch, you cut everyone off. You don’t get to be angry.” He practically growled.

Betty nodded against him,
“We didn’t mean to hide anything from you but you haven’t been around, we have a new life now Archie.”

“No one told me, no one even let me know. What about facebook I..” he finished lamely

“That’s not the kind of couple we are, we’re private. You hurt us when you cut us off like that, that’s why Ronnie won’t add you, did you know she’s married? Pregnant too.” Betty said simply, squeezing closer to Jughead.

“What? She’s.. to who?” He was defeated now, maybe he thought everything would be the same when he came back, Maybe he thought both of his high school sweethearts would be pining after him after all these years.

“She married Reggie, he coaches football at Riverdale high he’s the gym teacher too, Veronica Runs an interior decorating company from home. They’re happy together, they’re a beautiful couple.” Betty finished softly, looking up at Jughead who nodded encouragingly and looked into her Eyes with complete adoration.

“Things have changed pal.” He said looking up at Archie who was slowly making his way to the door, shoulders slumped.

“I’m back now, doesn’t that count for something?” The redheaded boy said lowly.

Jughead and Betty both nodded

“It’s gonna take time, but you’re still my friend, you’re still our friend.” Betty said placing a hand to his shoulder, soothingly.

Jughead nodded
“ meet me at pops tommorow for breakfast, I think we’ve gotta couple things to talk out.”

As Archie nodded solemly on the front porch of the cooper jones residence, he stared at the couple hand in hand looking lovingly into each other’s eyes, as the door closed slowly

Things most definitely had changed and maybe.. maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing

sterek soul bonded fic recs

Soul-bonded sterek. An updated list. 

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Too Late (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

Originally posted by mcfucking-lafayette

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Choreographer!Reader

Requested?: ‘hiii! I have a request for a linxreader: Could the reader be the choreographer for Hamilton? So she comes in later in the game when everything has pretty much been written. Lin and she have a connection and get along very well during the staging process. Then on opening night at the Public, the reader brings her boyfriend and Lin acts v weird (cause he’s in love with her). You could decide where to go from there. love your writing! thanks!!!’

Prompt: ^^^^

Words: 2700+

Warnings: Jealous Lin, Sad Lin, angst, :(

Masterlist

~~~

Lin didn’t want to admit it. He was in denial and didn’t want to confess it. Nothing would make him talk. Nothing would break him. Nothing would-

“I’ll buy you dinner if you do it.” You state as an ultimatum as you twirled the gel pen between your fingers.

Lin’s determination and shell of resistance cracked and shattered the moment you finished speaking the ultimatum. Lin mumbled a profanity before standing up from the couch. He took a deep breath before doing a cartwheel, or what he believed was a cartwheel. You couldn’t stop laughing at him. How anyone could keep a straight face as they watched a grown man in his thirties attempt a cartwheel and watching him land it by crashing into the couch is beyond you. You felt your stomach hurt and your eyes grow watery. Lin stood and glared weakly at you, mumbling for you to shut up.

“Don’t be like that, Linny.” You said, nudging Lin in the chest as you zipped up your hoodie and retrieved your wallet from the coffee table. “At least you earned yourself some free dinner.” 

Lin rolled his eyes as he stood and grabbed his car keys and wallet. You both walked out of the apartment complex and into the garage. You both entered Lin’s car and pulled out, driving from the building and down the street. The destination was an old stomping ground of yours and Lin’s. A moderately sized family diner only a few blocks away from Lin’s apartment. This was where you and Lin would brainstorm and work on ideas for Hamilton together. A good amount of your friendship was spent at this restaurant. You would work on homework and last minute projects here, take part of Friday night karaoke and work for tips when you were short on funds. This place was, in fact, ran by your family. Mainly your parents, seven other siblings, and six of your cousins. The food served were all (L/N) family recipes and the decor were all hand-me-downs, giving the diner a homey atmosphere.

You and Lin pulled into the parking lot and entered the diner, inhaling the warm scent of country fried steaks and apple pies. Your sister Beth was working the podium so once she saw you and Lin she grinned and immediately grabbed menus and lead you to your favorite spot; a booth directly diagonal from the kitchen door so you could have a clear view of who and what was coming out of the kitchen. Since you were the chosen heiress of the diner, you tried to visit it was as often as your schedule would allow you to. This means a lot of late night dinner with Lin and falling asleep with a cold cup of coffee and being woken up when your parents went home (the diner runs 24 hours). Although your name was soon to be on that deed, you were discussing with your father about how the heir should be some who worked and wanted the restaurant. But, that’s a story for another time.

Your mother walked out of the kitchen and she noticed you and Lin, smiling although she was tired. “(Y/N)! Lin!” She strolled over to you two and gave you side-hugs. “It’s good to see you two! What can I get you?”

You and Lin scanned through the menu you both know by heart. Before Lin could speak you placed your menu down on the table and looked up to your mom. “We’ll have our usuals and two coffees.” 

Your mom scribbled down your order on her pad of paper and winked at you. “I’ll bring out sugar and cream for you, hun.” And with that, she walked back into the kitchen. You took this time to look around the restaurant and noticed how empty it is. You and Lin were the only ones eating, besides a couple of hungover and stoned teenagers sitting at the bar. Normal Saturday night for the (L/N) Family Diner.

Besides having a favorite diner that worked at a meeting place for meals and study dates, you and Lin go way back. You two graduated from the same high school, you graduating two years after Lin, and you guys stopped talking until four years ago after you graduated college. You came across Lin while touring Aaron Burr’s house and you two picked up your friendship where they left off. He told you about this project he was doing called the Hamilton Mixtape. You were a huge American History nerd so you were excited to hear about it. Some time later, Lin started working on a hip-hop musical about the life of Alexander Hamilton, who happened to be your favorite founding father. You had a Bachelor’s degree in Dance so when you heard ‘musical’ you thought of the dancing and ensemble members of Broadway. When Lin decided to make you the Choreographer for Hamilton, you saw stars. You were positive that Hamilton was going to be a Broadway hit so you immediately accepted his offer. So, for a course of the next few years, Lin would run you through the songs he wrote while you demonstrated the dances you put together for each song. You also helped Lin pick out actors and actresses for the cast and you took it upon yourself to choose the ensemble members. It might have been Lin’s musical but he always said it was a team effort.

You and Lin proceeded to talk about ideas and new changes for Hamilton songs and dance numbers. Your food and coffee were served some time later and the conversations did not cease. After the food was eaten, coffee was drunk, and the conversation lasted for about two hours, the bill found itself onto your table and you paid for it, leaving a good tip for your mom before you and Lin got up to leave, hugging your mom and your sister before leaving the restaurant. You and Lin went back to his apartment and you two ended up having a deep one-in-the-morning conversation about life since that’s how your brain functioned when you were an insomniac and still running on those few cups of coffee. At about three am, you decided to leave since the next day was the premiere of Hamilton. You hugged Lin and wished him a good night before leaving. You lived in the same building, but your apartment was three floors above Lin’s.

~~~

Night of the Premiere ~

The theater was packed. The show sold out not that long ago and it was heart-racingly exciting to see all these people and Broadway veterans filling the Richard Rogers Theater. Thank god you weren’t in the main cast or else you’d be having a panic attack and insist on leaving. You were not just the Choreographer but you also was an ensemble member that performed in both acts and even had a singing part in The Election of 1800. You also lend a hand in helping cast and ensemble members get in costume and makeup since you took a class for theatrical costume and makeup in college. When you weren’t helping or going over last minute practice with the ensemble, you were loitering in Lin’s dressing room, helping him calm his nerves.

“What if I miss my cues?” Lin asked, mainly to himself as he fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt. “What if I make a complete fool of myself?”

“Lin, calm down,” You said for the hundredth time that night. “You’ll be fine.”

“But what if the spotlights go out?” Lin continued to be nervous. “What if everybody doesn’t like the show? What if-”

“Lin, oh my god, calm down!” 

Lin looked at you with wide eyes. You stood up from the couch and was grasping Lin’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “You, Lin-Manuel Miranda, are a brilliant man. You wrote this musical in seven years and you had to deal with me forcing you to practice dancing during those seven years. You mastered the dances, you’ve mastered the songs, and you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts, Lin! Now you go out there and do your best! If you get nervous or anxious, look for me. If I’m not on stage, I’ll be in the wings.”

Lin smiled and hugged you. “Thank you, (Y/N).” He said, kissing you on the cheek, making you blush. “I’m not wasting my shot!” 

You laughed as he finished his hair and finished getting ready. You mess with your hair before the five-minute warning comes over the P.A system. You and Lin hug again and you go your separate ways and take positions in the opening song. 

The musical goes on without any problems. When you weren’t performing on stage, you were watching from the wings. Lin would glance at you ever so often but you’d flash him a smile and a thumbs up. During the intermission, you snuck off and Lin didn’t see you until the first song of Act Two. Act Two brought you to tears and you were silently crying when Alexander died. The audience were brought to tears and enjoyed the show very well, calling for an encore during the curtain call. You disappeared from the stage and Lin went searching for you. He had something very important to tell you.

Four months ago, Lin came to the realization that he loved you. It was at a rocky point of his life when he realized this. He had just finalized his divorce with Vanessa after four years of marriage and they decided to share custody of their baby son, Sebastian. Besides working on Hamilton, Lin was a mess and wasn’t getting enough sleep. You’d force him to sleep and make sure he’d eat. You cared so much about him, just like you did in high school. You were loving, witty, funny, beautiful, and very talented and smart. Lin couldn’t help but fall in love. He didn’t think he could after his divorce but he did.

Lin scanned through the group of actors and ensemble members for you but to no avail, you weren’t found. Lin asked all the actors he saw and they all turned up with nothing. Then, Phillipa said she saw you in the lobby. Lin thanked her before racing to the lobby, still in costume. As he made his way to the lobby, he went over what he was going to say to you. He mentally cursed and finally made it to his destination. Lin scanned the crowd and saw you but his heart stopped once he saw him.

You were standing up against an empty part of the lobby wall. You were still in your ensemble costume and the blue and red coat you wore during Yorktown. Your hair was still in its braided updo and your makeup looked to be touched up recently. Your arms were crossed against your chest and your head was tilted every so slightly to the side. The guy you were talking to was about Daveed’s height, with curly blonde hair and he was dressed in a white dress shirt, a navy blue blazer, black slacks, and brown loafers. His neck and cheeks were covered in freckle patches. His hands were making motions as he spoke, making you laugh once and a while. 

You see Lin in the corner of your eye and you smile. “Lin!” You called him over, motioning with your hand. Your ‘friend’ turned around and he had an anxious smile on his face. Lin felt a pit form in his stomach as he walked over to you. His hands became clammy and he expected the worst from this guy he never saw before being all friendly with you.

“There you are, (Y/N),” Lin said, forcing a fake smile on his face. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of your neck. “Sorry.” You nudged the blonde guy in his side as you stood up straight. “This cutie has been distracting me.” The blonde guy blushed and stepped closer to your side, placing a hand on your hip and you leaning into his touch, leaning your head on his shoulder. Lin’s speculations were confirmed. And it broke his heart.

You had a boyfriend.

Lin tried his best not to look hurt and heartbroken. He wanted to look oblivious and happy. His forced smile looked convincing but he was breaking on the inside. When did you start dating this guy? Why didn’t you tell Lin about him? Does Lin know this guy? He did look kinda familiar. Maybe a guy from your high school? Lin didn’t care. He instantly hated this guy. This guy took you away from him. Lin could make you happy. He could satisfy you. If he was able to, he’d make you a happy person.

“(Y/N), who’s your friend?” Lin asked as he balled his hands into fists. 

You smiled and blushed. “This is Grayson Peters.” You explained, Grayson extending his hand for Lin to shake. “We went to high school with him. He was in the marching band with me.”

Lin firmly gripped Grayson’s hand and shook it briefly before letting go. Grayson’s hand was clammy and cold and Lin wiped his hand on his pants before stuffing it in his pocket. Grayson looked like one of those guys you’d see on Glee or The Office but also has that anxious glee like one of Lin’s fangirls. His eyes were brown like Lin’s and his face is clean, no shadow of facial hair. Maybe you liked men with brown eyes? Clean shaven guys? Musical guys? Lin fit two of those three traits so he had a good chance with you. Besides, Lin knows you better. He could make you so happy.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Lin asked, a lump in his throat forming.

“Four months.” You explain. “We’ve been seeing each other online since he worked overseas. But now he’s living in the city!” Grayson planted a kiss on your head and you blushed, making Lin’s heart break even more.

‘So that’s why she’s been online so often.’ Lin thought as he felt his eyes water and the lump in his throat growing. He wanted to pull you away from Grayson and tell him to get lost. He wanted to kiss you and hold you and make you feel special. It took him four months for him to realize how much he needs you and you went off and got yourself a boyfriend. Lin was so disappointed with himself that he took so long. He loves you. He wants you. He needs you. But he was too late.

Lin turned around and walked away, not being stopped or noticed by you or Grayson. He walked all the way to his dressing room, ignoring everyone who tried to talk to him. He locked the door behind him and took a seat in front of the mirror. He stared at his reflection and then looked at the picture he taped to the corner. It was a selfie polaroid you took of you and Lin on your thirty-third birthday, which was six months ago. You both had on those stupid plastic birthday hats and you both held full wine glasses as you toasted to ‘one more year closer to death’, as you put it. You both were smiling, which what made Lin’s heart ache more. He wanted that smile. He needed that smile. But it now belonged to someone else.

And he cried.

Tags!!: @imagineham @dear-alexander @notthrowingawaymyfood @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @listenlyss @casual-hamiltrash

Listening to his music-  Josh Dun Imagine

Prompt: You have a bad day after getting into a fight with Josh and listening to his music helps calm you down.

Word Count: 1710+ 

A/N: I haven’t been the best lately so I wrote this imagine to vent. Everything that the reader goes through in this is what I go through. I hope that what I wrote makes sense to others. Depression is such a hard thing to capture.

This work is un-beta-ed so there are mistakes in here. 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!


               It seemed like you were destined to have a bad day from the moment you woke up. You didn’t sleep well due to bad dreams. Not nightmares since you weren’t frightened, but those kinds of dreams that are so vivid and unnatural you just feel put off and uncomfortable about.

All you wanted to do was stay in bed all day and sleep but you had to get up and do some chores around your house you had been putting off all week. Plus, your boyfriend who was already awake and making food. You knew if you stayed in bed and missed breakfast, you would upset Josh and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

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Perfect

Pairing: You/Finn Balor

Summary: For years you’ve known you were Finn’s so why haven’t you ever said anything? This is 2704 words of soulmate/soulmark au because every fandom needs its soul!fics

You’re messing around in the ring with Sami like you guys used to do in PWG. Just flying around and showing off even though it’s only to each other. You’d really missed just goofing around with your buddy and you’ve been having a blast. So much so that you haven’t noticed the adhesive patch that usually covers your soulmark is now lying somewhere by one of the turnbuckles. So when you’re done and you’re both lying on the mat panting, you don’t think anything of star fishing out, arms akimbo, just getting your breath back. 

“Uhm. You might want to cover your wrist”

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anonymous asked:

Please continue The Getaway! And Renewed!

The Getaway: Part 3. 

Feeling across the short expanse of empty space, Claire reached out in search of Jamie, her fingertips nudging at the now cold sheets where he had lain beside her only hours before. Shaking herself from slumber, she brushed the sleep from her eyes as she sat up and looked around blearily.

Nothing.

Her bed was devoid of him. A small part of her understood. No doubt her parents had arrived back from their evening out to find a stray Fraser curled around her.

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Jaime pulled his bleeding sword free as the body of Aerys Targaryen fell to the floor of the throne room. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and swallowed hard. Elia, was Jaime’s first thought—and then he was running.

Elia Martell had always been kind to Jaime. “A good and gracious woman,” many called her. Though Jaime knew she was more than that, and didn’t deserve the fate she would surely receive if Jaime didn’t reach her in time. He ran from the throne room as fast as his legs would carry him, trying desperately to put dead King Aerys out of his mind. I had no choice, Jaime told himself. Elia will understand. I had no choice.

The gods alone knew if Elia would trust Jaime after he’d just murdered her good-father, but he had to try. And there was little love between Elia and Aerys anyway, Jaime knew. Instead he thought of Elia. Sweet, clever, fragile Elia; the only woman in King’s Landing beautiful enough to tear his thoughts away from Cersei, if only in passing. Though she was ten years his senior, Jaime hardly seemed to notice. Elia had never looked down on Jaime as others did, or treated him as if he were a child. She had always praised him after he’d done well in a tourney, and Jaime often saw her watching him sparring in the training yard with Princess Rhaenys clutching her leg.

With the drawbridge to Maegor’s Holdfast raised, Jaime headed towards the armory, where he would then need to scale the walls in order to reach the Princess and her children before someone else did. Jaime cringed at the realization, but Elia was worth the risk. Though when he arrived at Maegor’s base, Jaime saw two men already scaling its walls perhaps fifty feet above him; men he recognized as Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch.

“Fuck,” Jaime whispered under his breath. I’ll never make it in time. But he had already come this far, he couldn’t give up now. And he certainly couldn’t leave Elia and her children to mercy of Lorch and the Mountain. Jaime looked up at the challenge set before him, took in a deep breath, and began to climb. The going was quicker than he expected it to be, then again this wasn’t the first time Jaime had scaled a wall. He had grown up climbing the walls of Casterly Rock as a child, much to his mother’s dismay. Jaime thanked the gods for his natural swiftness, and for not making him into a huge boulder of a man like Gregor Clegane.

Jaime saw Gregor and Lorch scamper through Maegor’s first available window and quickened his pace as he gritted his teeth from the exertion, sweat beading on his forehead. He reached the same window not long after and hauled himself through, which was no easy task in full plate armor—his snow-white kingsguard armor, now stained with red. As his feet landed on the stone floor, Jaime found himself on a landing between two staircases, one going up and one going down. Fuck, he thought. Which way did they go? The royal apartments seemed the logical destination, so Jaime chose the staircase leading upwards, and ran towards the bedchamber that had been Prince Rhaegar’s.

But when he burst through the oaken doors, there was no one to be found. Where is she? Jaime wondered, panicking.

“Elia!” Jaime shouted. “Elia, are you in here?”

“Ser Lion?” called a small voice. Jaime’s head turned towards the bed, where he saw a head of messy black hair peak out from underneath it, and two small dark violet eyes staring up at him.

Jaime let out a sigh. “Rhaenys,” he said gently. “Where’s your mama, little dragon?”

Rhaenys shook her head as she crawled towards him. Jaime lifted her up off the ground and into his arms. “I don’t know,” she whispered into his neck. “Mama said to hide and took baby brother away.” The nursery, Jaime realized. Fuck.

“Alright, little one, we’re going to see Mama now, and then you, her, baby Aegon and I are going on a journey together,” Jaime told Rhaenys, stroking her hair to soothe her. “You must be very quiet now, Princess, okay?”

“Okay, Ser Lion,” Rhaenys whispered, burying her head into Jaime’s shoulder. He turned and left the bedchamber with Princess Rhaenys in tow, and headed back down the staircase the way he had come.

Jaime had just reached the bottom of the second staircase when he heard the screams.

“No!” Jaime yelled, pulling his sword from its scabbard, still stained with Aerys’ blood. He burst through the nursery door just in time to see Gregor Clegane dash baby Aegon’s head against the stone wall. Jaime’s mouth fell open, stunned.

“Lannister,” Amory Lorch sneered. “I see you’ve brought us the other dragon-spawn. Be a good lad and hand it over.”

And so Jaime Lannister, with a princess in one hand and a sword in the other, moved to position himself between Elia Martell and her assailants. Jaime’s mouth curled into a smile, as if often did when he faced down an opponent, and he straightened his back.

“If you want them, come and claim them,” he said, not breaking his gaze from Amory’s.

Gregor laughed. “You fool,” he growled. “It was your father who bid us slay this lot.”

“Fuck my father,” Jaime said. “You’ve already butchered Rhaegar’s heir. Leave now, or I will show you no mercy.”

This time Amory laughed as he took a step towards Jaime. “You’re way out of your depth, boy,” he said, gripping the hilt of his sword, still in its sheath. Jaime slowly slide his blade towards Amory’s throat and placed it gently against his skin.

His smile widened. “I’ve already killed the king,” said Jaime coolly. “What do you think I would do to scum like you?”

Amory’s eyes widened as Gregor’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“You didn’t,” said Gregor, holding his ground.

“I did,” replied Jaime, without a hint of dishonesty in his voice. “Do you want your friend to live, Clegane?”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed, knowing he’d been had. He stepped forward and grabbed Amory by the shoulder. “Let’s go, Lorch,” he said. “The lion’s not worth it. His father would have us skinned if we harmed his golden son.”

Jaime slid his blade away tentatively, allowing Gregor to jerk Amory away. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Lannister,” Amory called as the pair left the nursery. Jaime sheathed his sword and quickly barred the door. He only now allowed himself to notice the way Rhaenys’ nails were digging into his neck as she choked out muffled sobs. Elia was crazed. She had scampered across the room the moment Jaime shut the door, and was now clutching the body of baby Aegon to her chest, sobbing hysterically.

“Elia,” said Jaime softly, walking towards her. “Elia, we have to leave.”

“My baby… my sweet boy… no, no, no… not my baby,” Elia whimpered, rocking her dead son in her shaking arms. Jaime knelt down beside her and placed his free hand on her shoulder. Elia shrugged it off and began to sob even louder. “No!” she cried. “I won’t leave him!” Jaime felt tears stirring in his eyes, and he blinked them away. He had to remain strong. For her.

“We won’t, Elia. We won’t, I promise. We can bring his body, but we have to go now, before the Mountain tells my father what I’ve done,” Jaime urged her. “Elia, look at your daughter, look at Rhaenys. We have to save her.”

Elia looked up then, and saw her daughter safe in Jaime’s arms. “Rhaenys,” she muttered. “My sweet girl.”

“Yes, Rhaenys,” Jaime echoed. “You still have Rhaenys.”

Jaime grabbed Elia’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face to meet his. He looked into her black eyes, red and raw and full of hot tears that would not stop falling, then rubbed her jaw with the side of his thumb.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her.

Elia blinked, then reached her hand up to touch his. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Then we have to go,” Jaime said. “Now.

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First Impressions (Ignis x Reader)

Thought I should actually post the full story instead of just links ^^ Hope you enjoy my incredibly long and fluffy debut to the fandom XD

Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4 430

*Spoiler free!*


You had just finished cleaning up the horrid mess left in a booth from the last lot of customers when four more walked through the door. The bell chimed at you, mockingly cheerful as they entered, almost drowned out by their incessant chatter.

You closed your eyes and sighed. You did not need this today.

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Maiden’s Unfair Heart

Warning: THIS IS EXTREMELY LONG. Also, this fic takes place in the Middle Ages so sexism is an obvious. Of course 21st century Harry wouldn’t dare say these things, however please keep the time era in mind. The girl’s name is Jo only because this story is an original story with Harry’s name instead of the original: Michael H. Fitz. This one shot is inspired by the novel “Ransom My Heart”. If you love History and Romance together, this is the right book for you :)

Happy reading and please give me some feedback, I beg you!

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