look-at-him-up-there

3

regret | part 1

based on this idea I got a while ago

anonymous asked:

imagine skinny!steve being an artist in the city and he meets dancer bucky and the rest of the cap crew :))

“And how can we help you?” the redhead asks, looking beautifully bored. 

“Well,” Steve straightens his shoulders, clutching his sketchbook to his chest like a shield. “I’d like to sketch some of your dancers, if that’d be all right. I’d reimburse them for their time and–”

“Barnes!” the woman calls out, and one of the dancers at the barre behind her turns. “We got another Degas.”

This prompts the other dancers to start laughing, a man in the back shouting “Get it, Bucky!”

“Barnes” (or maybe “Bucky”? Steve’s confused), walks up to Steve, looks him up and down and smiles, nice and warm. “Can I help you?” he asks.

A thousand images flicker across Steve’s mind, ranging from sketching this boy to taking him back to his tiny, filthy apartment to getting down on one knee and just flat-out proposing. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, “I think you can.”

[I button up the remainder of Landen’s Air Jordan onesie, and then I place his socks on. When I finish, I carefully pick him up and proceed out the room; looking around] Mornin’

Title: Hot chocolate, orange zest and peppermint kisses 
Word count: 2653, Chapter 1/?
Rating: T
Summary: The one where Bellamy has had a shit day, the coffee shop is the only place he can hide from the rain, the barista withholds the black coffee, he grades some papers, and refuses to be treated like charity. Also, there’s hot chocolate. And Clarke.
Excerpt:

Bellamy was absorbed in sorting out the essays, when the creaking of the wooden floor announced the arrival of his coffee.

Except there was too much whipped cream and cinnamon for it to be his coffee.

He stared in shock at the orange ceramic cup that was set in front of him courtesy of the blonde barista and looked up scowling.

“This is not what I ordered.”

The barista – Clarke her nameplate read – smiled and sat on the chair across from him, pushing the cup forward.

“No, but it will do a better job at warming you up. You look like you need it.”

He resisted the urge to push the cup away only because he was pretty sure she would push it back in place. The drink – whatever it was – looked too sugary for Bellamy’s taste buds, but the cream had started melting from the hot liquid and his hands itched to wrap themselves around the hot beverage.

In the end, the chill in his bones won out.

Bellamy pretended not to notice her triumphant little smirk when he gave in and got his fingers around the cup, greedily seeking the warmth it provided and sighing in bliss when the heat traveled up his arms.

Shortly after, he brought the cup to his mouth, blowing softly and taking a tentative sip of the drink. Bitterness and spice exploded across his tongue, tempered by the cool, melting cream and making him moan when the liquid slid down his throat and warmed his insides. Heat replaced the chill in his bones and Bellamy rolled his shoulders, chasing the stiffness away. He took another sip and burned his tongue.

She laughed when he cursed and put his cup down, careful not to slosh any of the liquid onto the essays.

“I take it you like it then?” Clarke sounded all too smug, teasing glint in her blue eyes.

He licked his lips, chasing the spice with his tongue and leaned back in his surprisingly comfortable chair.

“I’ve had better.” He went for an unimpressed shrug but she didn’t seem to be buying it; and with a reason – this was the best damn hot chocolate he had ever tasted and he was picky when it came to his hot drinks.

read here

Enjolras and Grantaire get in a fight while they’re living together, so they still have to be civil

At one point while they’re still fighting Enjolras does that “Hey since you’re up can you-”

Grantaire looked him dead in the eye and sits down on the floor

3

“Sorry I’m late!” A voice croaked, closing the door behind him.

You slowly looked up from your phone, meeting his silhouette. You were mesmerized.

He walked to the front of the class, and placed his briefcase on to his desk. He averted his eyes around the room, until he met your gaze.

You felt your breath hitch to the back of your throat, as he flashed a smile.
There was something about you that popped out to him. He felt drawn to you, and he couldn’t shake it.

He cleared his throat, and broke his trance. “Uh hi. I’m Mr. Winchester.” He muttered to the class.

————

Should make this into a fic? Let me know!

FiKi Week day 6: Erebor

A collaboration this time, with art by me and fic by dragonsquill !


They called him the Lion of Erebor.

His people, spread out before him, shouted his name:

Fíli, the Lion King of Erebor!

Lions were legendary creatures.  They existed in storybooks and children’s tales, fierce protectors of their families and loved ones.  

As far as Fíli was concerned, as he looked out over the dwarves of Erebor with a soft smile, the Lion of Erebor was no less imaginary than the lions of far off jungles.  Fíli was king, yes, had been now for over a year, and he hoped that he led his people well, that he offered them a kindness and peace and Thorin, after all his troubles, had never truly managed.  

But he didn’t do it alone.

The Lion of Erebor was not just Fíli, standing with a  crown designed for his coronation.  He was only half of the Lion.

The other half stood below him, looking up, warm brown eyes laughing beneath a silver circlet, too simple for everything Kíli did and everything Kíli meant to the mountain, but he never complained.

“They need you, Fíli,” Kíli would tell him, with his voice, with his fingertips, with his lips on Fíli’s skin.  

They did.  They needed one strong king, whispers of the great kings of the past following in his wake.  But Fíli-

“I need you,” he would answer, pulling his brother close and swallowing Kíli’s shy protestations with kisses.

Without Kíli at his side, in his bed, Fíli would be only a shadow of the Lion.  Kíli was the one who fought every day to keep Fíli within himself, to push away the intense focus that was a curse of their line and bring instead love and laughter.

It was Kíli who appeared three hours into a meeting with the lords and insisted everyone take lunch.  It was Kíli who walked confidently into Dale and left friends in his wake.  It was Kíli who was able to let go – truly let go – of resentment toward the elves and welcome the elven envoys with genuine warmth.

It was Kíli who held Fíli in the night, when it was all too much, and the pressure threatened to break him.  It was Kíli who whispered stories and traced his skin and kissed him and held him down and slid inside and just-

Kíli.

There were times when Fíli, the Lion of Erebor, lived in awe of his little brother.  

Without Kíli, Fíli would have become as obsessed as Thorin, as distant as Thrain.  He felt it, pulling at him, at his natural inclination to watch silently, to worry over minor details, to feel always just a little inadequate.  He would have been a king much like those before him, and the mountain would have accumulated wealth until they were once again in danger of a dragon – until the accumulation of gold meant more than the precious lives inside the mountain.

But-

Fíli smiled, warm and peaceful.

He wasn’t alone.  He never would be.

Kíli grinned up at him, wild where Fíli was calm, warm where Fíli was calculating, foolish, sometimes, where Fíli was wise.   Kíli always, always saw people first  

His Kíli was amazing.

Fíli held out his hand, and Kíli took it-no hesitation, only love.

Fíli tugged and Kíli rose to stand beside him.

The crowd roared approval for the Lion and his Consort.

“They’re wrong,” he said, pitching his voice perfectly for Kíli to hear him above the crowds.

Kíli wrapped an arm around him and pressed close, practically glowing with pride.  He’d always been proud instead of jealous, his Kíli.  “About what?”

“It’s not me.”

Kíli’s eyebrows drew together.  He had a full beard now, though his hair was as uncontrollable as ever; he was devilishly handsome, and it took Fíli’s breath away.

“The Lion of Erebor.”  Fíli smiled, felt it, saw Kíli’s eyes flicker, pleased, to his dimples.  If they were alone, Kíli would kiss first one, then the other.  “It’s not me, Kíli.”

“Fi-” chastising, because Kíli was always irritated when Fíli saw himself realistically.  He took it as an insult against his lover, brother, and king.

Fíli pushed up, just the little bit, and breathed in his name as he kissed his Kíli’s lips.

“It’s both of us,” he said, and delighted in the widening of his brother’s eyes, and the faint hint of a flush at the tips of his ears.

Imagine Kaneki being one of those kids who would always get lost in the hallways and one day Hide found him crying in a corner and from that day on Hide followed him everywhere. And even when they were older he would still pay close attention to wherever Kaneki goes so that he could always go looking for him if he ever ended up taking too long. 

~ for nightmare-tyler-qizard

“…Who’re you?”

The bat young adult looked up at the boy in front of him. Himself was very tall: 2 metres of height and a wall of muscle. He had very large bat wings sprouting from his back which reached from the top of his head to his knees, them looking quite dragonlike in nature. His name was William.

“What kinda business you want with me?” He asks, his voice raspy, rubbing his stubbly chin. He had also spiky black hair and deep emerald eyes.

anonymous asked:

There's a dude at school that looks exactly like you and he drums and I'm pretty sure he looks up to you cause I heard him talking about your blog once and idk it was cute

aw thats awesome

anonymous asked:

Thor and Loki+ ♡

♡ - romantic headcanon

When they were younger and Thor started going out adventuring, he would always come home with trophies from the various beasts he’d killed. He’d try to bring home gifts for everyone, namely his mother and Sif… but to Loki he’d bring home the finest pelts, rarest scales and teeth, gems, scrolls, and other various treasures of interest. Thor didn’t even consciously think about it, but it was always very much like a courting ritual… proving to Loki that he would provide the best for him.

I once fell in love with a boy who could sing. He sang his feelings to me in every key. I tried to show him that I felt what he felt in return, but he never understood the hints I was giving him. I gave him so many open doors, yet he never took one. Always jumping from one girl, and the next to come. I once fell in love with a boy who could sing. That’s when I knew it wasn’t meant to be, but I won’t let this boy tread on me.
—  My Inner Thoughts
4

‘How about we start questioning new people?’ you asked, flopping onto the sofa as you looked around at the werewolves.

‘Ar-are you even trying to help?’ Derek asked, a disbelieving look crossing his face before he turned to Cora, who was looking up at him expectantly.

You bristled slightly at the comment, and felt Isaac slip his hand into yours. ‘She has a point,’ he said simply, causing Derek’s attention to snap towards the two of you.

‘You can’t just go around questioning people to see if they’re the latest killer. It doesn’t work like that,’ said Cora simply.

‘Ugh, please,’ you sighed, rolling your eyes as you dropped your head. ‘I was thinking of being more subtle than a tonne of bricks about it. You know, more like finding out where people were. Proper detective stuff rather than the Hale family motto of heading into situations like a bull in a china shop.’

Isaac began to chuckle slightly at that, causing you to look towards him. There was a look of smugness on his face though. ‘And, we’re done here,’ he said simply, before rubbing the back of your hand lightly.

A/N: Gif credit goes to their respective owners, I just added the text.

Pokemon AU Dutch and R.O.T.H