(*tries* being the operative word)

my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!

“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.


The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)


"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)


“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)


Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.


roosterteeth meme: [2/3] teams → team achievement hunter

“We’re going to be slightly better than sub-par, with a wafting of adequate.”

Nel cannot decide things- volume 345

Hi everyone! I hope you’re having a great day/week/month!

I’ve been doing okay- lab work has been fullfilling and interesting (if at times absolutely exhausting, but that’s just… how it is) I’ve had some very interesting culinary adventures and gone to nice places in the past month (including watching Yann Tiersen live in concert under the Acropolis, which, well. A once in a lifetime experience, even though the feeling has already faded in a dream). All in all, a great month, marred only by my utter inability to make important (but not monumental) life decisions without first freezing and ignoring everything for weeks until its too late and I have to make a decision and then freak out. This month’s edition concerns my choice of lab for my master’s thesis! Proceed under the cut for a run-down of the options, in the hopes of clearing them out for me too! My friends with experience in STEM academia are kindly invited (begged, really) to offer opinions :)

Keep reading

legends of tomorrow sentence starters ;

i’m no one’s lapdog. 
you’re a special kind of crazy, i like it. 
so why don’t i get to play bad guy? ‘
can i burn some stuff now? ‘
you screwed up pretty good. 
your plan sucks, you know that right? ‘
i’m coming with you. 
i already got a partner. 
you just knocked me out! ‘
this ain’t over. 
i guess i dodged a bullet. 
you think i wanna be like you? ‘
thinking like that is what makes you a criminal. 
i take it back ( name ), you’re not completely useless after all. 
as many lifetimes as it takes, i know you’re worth the wait. ‘
your conceptions of romance need some work. ‘
i’m grateful for another opportunity to kill you. 
please just save your strength. ‘
i didn’t give you much of a choice the first time. 
i say we kick ( name )’s ass. 
i pay attention. 
simple don’t mean easy. 
you’re not as thick as people say. 
thick — doesn’t that mean stupid? ‘
if you can’t kill your enemy, weaken him/her/them. ‘ 
you should have let me punch him/her/them. 
i thought i specifically said no weapons! 
i’m a monster.
i’m not exactly asking, ( name ).
is there anything you think about other than yourself?
can i shoot him?
you got a pair on you kid, i respect that.
so no shooting?
you can’t tell me you don’t wanna see what this baby can do. ‘
you sure have a lot of personal observations to make.
fine, don’t talk to me.
killing is never easy, especially for a good man.
killing doesn’t make you a monster.
history screwed me first.
that’s a very pointed observation.
don’t ever let anyone hurt you.
no matter what you always have to look out for yourself.
for a monster, you dance quite graceful. 
what the hell are parachute pants? ‘
i always wanted to be a spy. 
instead of dwelling on what’s wrong, let’s focus on the positive. 
are you quoting top gun? ‘
now you’re annoying in another language. 
i’m not a fan of feelings. 
you said i’d get to use my gun. 
i see we can add eavesdropping onto your criminal resume. 
oh, i love the cold. 
what a wuss. 
no, this is a dictatorship where you get to call all the shots & i get to take all the shots. 
when are you gonna learn that you are not my father. 
tried being the operative word. 
i think your problem is the opposite of mine. 
come on, are you scared? ‘
us criminals have a code; never leave one of your own behind


Originally posted by sarcofago

…Be honest, isn’t EVERYONE at this level right now? I sure am.

So many speculations, titbit spoilers and full on promises. I have one or two asks so I’m not going to write reels about my inner thoughts or what I think might happen because who wants THAT?!

But I do want to address one or two things. First? I’m really glad there was no sign of Olicity in the teaser. 

I’ve been part of this fandom for 3 years and this is the first time I’ve truly and actively tried (tried being the operative word) to keep up with SDCC. Embarrassingly enough @callistawolf had to explain to me what the hell SDCC was. I wasn’t always Twitter active. However, I have reblogged things (I just hadn’t clued in that it was from SDCC) and I noticed that the trailers during the summer hiatus is that they’re either choc full of everything the fandom wants OR they make a good chunk of us froth at the mouth.

This one was brief, made us ask more questions and answered the bare minimum.

In regards to Olicity specifically, I want to be surprised. I want to be wooed and lured in. I want their story to tie in with others. I want, I want, I want… and they delivered.

“They [Olicity] are already married, they are getting married, they are never getting married…” (EBR - two truths and a lie)

“If she’s alive, I hope that they reconcile the involvement of William (Jack Moore) and then get married. I mean, he proposed already. He’s been sitting around. Waiting. So hopefully that happens.”(SA & below)

“Marc reiterated again that there will not be a Bl&ck Siren, Oliver and Felicity love triangle. A love triangle does not remotely interest him. He agreed they settled on Oliver’s great love in Season 2 and it is Felicity.”  @jbuffyangel

They delivered so bloody much guys. A far cry from last year and yet, miles apart from the hiatus pre-season 4. Just enough to make us want more and yet enough to leave us content.

They’re on a great place (Olicity) and Williams is a factor but not a bad one. Oliver has been waiting

“I mean, he proposed already. He’s been sitting around. Waiting.”

Waiting for Felicity. And this was straight from the horses mouth. 

So no more fears.


“I think Felicity needs a job, she needs to be employed. She sees these guys everyday, she’s getting, not bored but I think she just needs an income and some probably different social experiences with different people so hopefully we’ll get to see her, we’ll not so much in the Helix area not going down the rabbit hole but maybe working with Curtis a little bit more… perhaps?”

With Oliver as the Mayor and being the head of the team which doesn’t even bring his son and his epic love into the equation, why shouldn’t Felicity have her own thing too outside of the team?

But with the hints about multiple baddies, I’m hoping Felicity gets one of her own too. A real nemesis. One where she may eventually need to bring her boyfriend, fiance, HUSBAND (holy…) into the equation for his help and guidance just as she’s done with him on more than one equation.

And… maybe it’s because I’m very strange, I want it to become personal. I want something to hurt or upset her. Not because I want her in pain or afraid, but because it opens new avenues between her and Oliver. Just like having a date or learning new things about each other and living through disasters together allow for a deeper connection, this would enable a different kind of connection.

Theirs is already as deep as any connection can get, so lets explore it more. Let’s make them need each other in new ways, lets have them experience things we wouldn’t expect. 

We have a wedding coming plus everything that goes with it. A bit of angst where our leading couple can lean on each other wouldn’t go amiss.

Great weekend: I’m exhausted :)

I, for one, need lots more of Oliver as a father and I’m weirdly looking forward to this rift between him and Dig.

[Supercorp Soulmate AU]: You’re no stranger to my soul

They say that every face you see in a dream is one you’ve seen before, but Kara’s not sure that is strictly true. She’s a stickler for faces, never forgets one, in fact, swears she could pick out every movie extra she’s ever seen. It’s one of the reasons she’s so sure that someone has their wires crossed somewhere, that there has to be a mistake, a loophole of some description or a moderately tangible explanation at the very least.

Keep reading

Drunk Confessions

A/N: This is a request I’ve been asked to keep anonymous. Thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy it. Publishing for Fluffy Rafi Friday for @yourtropegirl’sRaúl Esparza Appreciation Week. Thanks @larkistin for my Rafi and @minidodds for the beta!

The Cheshire cat grin on your face could only be explained by one thing, or rather person, Rafael Barba.

He had been your best friend since your Harvard days. The two of you had met in Dudley Garden, your secluded retreat, secretly tucked away between the end of Wigglesworth Hall and Lamont Library. It hadn’t been the best of meetings.

You were sneaking away to your hideaway during your free period. Your teachers had said medical school wouldn’t be easy and they’d been right. But it wasn’t the science that was troubling you, it was the social interactions, the need to be outgoing and vivacious all the time. It was hard work prompting a persona which didn’t come naturally to you. This was why you often took the chance to escape and revel in the natural beauty and solitude that the garden provided.

Except that your sanctuary had been invaded, by a rather handsome boy with scruffy hair. He was sitting under your favorite tree, nose buried in a law book. Biting your lip, you stood rooted to the spot, contemplating your choices. Just as you made up your mind to quietly slip away, the boy … well young man, looked up.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Scenario with GOM and their closest teammates (if it's not too much) going to karaoke together please! Them boys and their beautiful voices lol

Kuroko + Kagami: Shocked at how well of a singer Kuroko could be, Kagami sits there dumbfounded for the first few songs they pick together. Is this really a situation where the shadow is overtaking the light? No way! Kagami isn’t going to back down without a fight, even if it was just karaoke. He picks songs he knows in English and tries to sing along with them, the operative word being ‘tries’. Somehow, he still sucks.

Kise + Kasamatsu: Of course this had been Kise’s idea, what with his pastime being karaoke, and he just had to drag Kasamatsu along for the ride. The entire time they’re there, Kise is hogging the microphone while Kasamatsu is grumbling in the corner. Every so often a song comes on that he knows and, showing just the slightest hint that he may sing along, Kise shoves the microphone into his hands to hear in senpai sing.

Aomine + Sakurai: Whose idea had it been to take these two to karaoke? Momoi’s of course. Neither Aomine or Sakurai sing for quite some time, the both of them stuck in their little corners for different reasons entirely. Aomine sees no point in going to karaoke if he can’t drink and, seeing as he’s not of age yet, that wasn’t a possibility. Sakurai, the poor kid, was just too nervous to get up and sing in front of anybody.

Midorima + Takao: If Midorima had his way, neither of them would have even set foot inside the karaoke bar, but Takao had insisted on having a little fun. Of course, Takao is having so much fun singing along with any and every song he knows while Midorima sits in the corner. Every so often the bespectacled teen would join in, though his voice is well under his breath at that point. No way was he going to let Takao know he could sing.

Murasakibara + Himuro: It was supposed to be a little trip for the two of them to wind down and relax after a week’s worth of hard work. Unfortunately, karaoke was not Murasakibara’s definition of relaxing. Especially when he was banned from bringing in any of his own snacks. Himuro had to convince him that it would all be worth it when they began singing, because that’s when all the real fun happened, but neither of them wanted to do the first song…

Akashi + Mayuzumi: This was supposed to be a team outing, so when Mayuzumi found out he was the only member aside from his captain to show up, he was a little annoyed. He denied every chance to sing in front of the room, pushing the microphone over to Akashi instead. Akashi, in turn, had no problem with singing; it was just another thing he was good at. Mayuzumi just hoped the red haired first year wouldn’t make singing an order eventually.

mistress92  asked:

How would the uf and sf bros react to their s/o not mentioning anything about the bros incoming birthday and just when the guys thought the s/o had forgotten it they wake up on their birthday to said s/o bringing them their absolute favorite breakfast in bed and basically spoiling and pampering them all day! Plus they get all the kisses and love it's adorable. uwu

Awh. I love these kind of asks.

UF!Sans usually doesn’t make a big deal about his birthday. Just another year closer to the dark abyss of death amirite? Sure, when his S/O seemed to forget about his birthday, he was a bit bummed out. When they woke him up, he wasn’t really that happy to be awake, but when he saw the food, and knew it was his birthday, he was a lot happier.

UF!Papyrus tries to be subtle about dropping hints that it’s his birthday coming up. Tries being the operative word. S/O would have to be the most oblivious person in the world to not know it was his birthday. Of course, when they continue the act of not knowing, he’s distraught. And then they bring him breakfast in bed and all is right with the world again. Of course they remembered! Who could forget the day the Great and Terrible Papyrus graced the world!

SF!Sans pout. He just pouts when eh thinks S/O forgot his birthday. He’s sighing and moping and grumbling. But of course, S/O wakes him up with his favorite breakfast in bed and just like with Papyrus the world is right again. And no! He’s not crying! HE KNEW YOU STILL LOVED HIM SHUT UP!

SF!Papyrus honestly forgot it was his birthday. He has no idea why S/O is surprising him with breakfast in bed. He is so confused. He tries to subtly figure out what’s going on. It takes him a few hours to figure it out.

For @beanmoreau for the prompt, “Yes I watch you sleep! But not in a creepy way!” Enjoy!

The year after their tour was one of many rude awakenings, despite it also being the best year of Monty’s life. One such awakening was attempting to regulate his sleep schedule, which was turning out to be a Herculean effort. He still maintained that no one should be awake before nine, but he was usually awake before noon now, to his great horror.

However, he also tried to be asleep before two, mostly at Percy’s behest. Tried, being the operative word. Some nights, sleep would not come no matter how hard he tried and tonight was one of those nights.

On these kind of nights, Monty stayed up and watched Percy sleep. He would be mortified if Percy ever found out, but it’s calming to watch his chest rise and fall with his breath, to see the way his face scrunched up occasionally in sleep. To feel his arms tighten around Monty occasionally, as though to remind him he was still there.

He had come so close to losing Percy forever, and that fear still clutches at his heart every time Percy has a headache, or feels off, or in the worst case, has a fit. He knows there’s nothing wrong with Percy and he wouldn’t change him even if he could, but the idea of something happening to Percy and Monty not being enough to help him was terrifying. He was learning to be okay on his own and he didn’t need Percy to survive, but he didn’t want to live without him and the thought that an accident of fate could take that away filled Monty with dread.

He eventually fell asleep to the steady beat of Percy’s heart, but he got less sleep than he would have liked, so he stumbled around all morning trying to get the coffee in order so he could feel vaguely human again.

As he was pouring his cup, he startled a bit at the feeling of Percy’s arms wrapping around his waist and a still stubbly chin nuzzling against his neck. Percy chuckled at his reaction, the deep sound of it and the vibration against his back rendering Monty even more unable to speak.

“Steady on, darling. Rough morning?”

Monty turned and buried his face in Percy’s chest. “Morning are highly unnecessary and overrated.”

Percy laughed and kissed his forehead. “But without mornings, I wouldn’t get to see your hair askew in all its fluffy glory.”

“It’s better than your hair in the middle of the night,” Monty grumbled before he could catch himself. He would attribute it to his tired state, but Monty didn’t have a filter at any time of day.

Percy stilled. “You watch me sleep?”

Monty’s cheeks burned. “Not…not in a creepy way. It’s just…it’s comforting. When I can’t sleep. To remember you’re there.”

Monty tried to keep his face hidden, but Percy tipped it up and tucked a loose strand of his hair back. “I don’t mind.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Monty’s, who pressed up on his toes to meet him. Mornings weren’t so bad, when they were like this.

anonymous asked:

What are your favorite Harry/Luna stories?

ohh! You know, funnily enough, anon, a couple of months (and by a couple I mean like 6 months ago) I said I was going to make a master rec list for Lunarry fanfics. Unfortunately, I never got around to finishing it since there were still a lot of fics that I either couldn’t find or wasn’t finished reading yet.

That being said, I do have quite a big list so far, but for the sake of not overflooding the dashboard I’ll simply post some of my absolute favorites and if you (or anyone else) wishes I can post the rest of my lunarry recommendations.

First, my favorite multi-chapter fics:

Luna’s Year by Michelle_31a “Harry and his friends gradually discover a growing friendship with a certain Ravenclaw.” (note: This is my absolute favorite multi-chapter lunarry fic ever. I used to discuss Lunarry with Michelle_31a way back in the day before HBP came out and I believe she understands Luna’s character better than any fanfic author I’ve met, and so I cannot stress enough how wonderful this fic is. 100% Lunarry goodness.)

Luna’s Hubby by Meteoricshipyards
“7 year old Luna wants a husband, and she wants one now. With the unintended help of her befuddled father, she kidnaps Harry Potter.” (note: very fluffy and contains abused!Harry.)

Harry Potter and Ice-Cream Delights by Luckner
“Harry Potter knew better than anyone that a person’s life could be changed forever in a single day, but until he spent a summer day with Luna Lovegood he didn’t realize that his life could be made forever better. This story is an alternative summer following Harry’s fifth year. Spoilers for HBP and DH. Story intended for romantics, be warned.”

Contemplating Clouds by Tehan.au

“Apathetic Occlumency teacher twisting your mind out of shape? Never fear, there’s a charming young girl in the year below to twist it back in the opposite direction. Just hope it doesn’t snap.” (I hesitated to add this because it’s discontinued, however it’s one of the better multi chapter h/l fics out there so it’s pleasant for a short read.)

Now, some of my favorite one-shots:

Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast by delicfcd
“Being a true (for a given value of ‘true’) account of events preceding breakfast in a (slightly atypical) day in the lives of Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter.”

Like Invisible Strings by and_backagain

“The next night, unpacking his trunk, he discovers that he’s forgotten his spare set of quills, his last bag of Chocolate Frogs, and his Transfiguration book. Wrapped in a pair of his old socks, though, is the mirror, which Harry had snatched down from the window the moment he’d seen Dumbledore arrive.”

Harry and Luna’s Answering Machine by michelle_31a
“What might happen when these two lovebirds try to set up their very first answering machine…”

Knock, Knock by Michelle_31a
“Harry tries to tell a ‘knock-knock’ joke to Luna - ‘try’ being the operative word.”

Goodnight, Harry by museinmotion
“Sometimes it’s the quiet companionship.”

Insanity by cloudcreation
“Luna was not like everyone else, but Harry didn’t exactly give a damn. It wasn’t what was important.”

And that’s it! Those are some of my favorites. I have more on my rec list but the ones here are ones that I’ve read over and over and over again because I just love them so much. There are tons more Lunarry fanfics out there but I think these just capture Lunarry perfectly. :) Hopefully that helps, anon!

Happy Birthday !

I’m sorry I didn’t get a change to post this yesterday. But I hope you like it!!! I heart you Love @mrsrafaelbarba !!!

Warnings: unbeta’d, birthday NSFW, no accents on the Spanish words.

*Not Sonny, my first attempt at writing Rafael

You were finishing up at work, it was your birthday so you decided on getting home early to have a relaxing night with a glass of wine and a bath. You didn’t expect much from your husband as being the ADA kept him so busy he’s even forgotten his own birthday before!

You’re walk home was nice, a stroll through the park, looking at the street vendors and just taking in the sighs of the city. You didn’t get to do this much with the rush of life always happening.

You got home and you stopped dead in your tracks as you walk into chaos!

The smoke alarm was blaring and there he was, your husband Rafael at the window to your shared apartment trying clear the smoke out. His face has cake batter smeared on it and it was in his hair and tie! He looked at you from his spot and he had the look of defeat in his eyes! Your wonderful husband who was never afraid of a fight against the toughest prosecutors in the city. But in this moment he looked defeated. And the culprit? A birthday cake!

“Mi amor! You’re home early” he says as he shuffles to you.

“Rafi, what’s going on?” You ask you head to the fire alarm with a towel and begin to fan the smoke and the alarm stops.

“Carino, I wanted to surprise you! I had dinner and a cake in the oven!”

You raise a brow. “You cooked and baked babe?” You asked, surprised at his admission.

“Tried being the operative word here mi amor.” He sighed. “I began to look over a case and forgot it was there until I hear the alarm and the place went up in smoke.”

You looked at your dear, loving husband, and you were just happy at the gesture and attempt he made to surprise you.

“Baby, it’s ok, just thank you for trying to put this together for me, you left work early? I thought you had a big day in court?” You asked.

“Carmen reminded me what today was and I’m always missing being with you on the one day I should really be celebrating because it was the day you were brought into the world!”

You smiled and you thought you were going to cry at his words.

“I got someone else to cover and rushed to get things prepared, because you do so much for me, I wanted to show you how I appreciate you and well ..” he gestured the room in an over exaggerated circle. Then he looked down at his feet.

You came up to him and cupped his face and brought it up to look at you as you kissed him, touching foreheads.

“I just appreciate the gesture love.” And you kissed him again.

“Come on, let’s get this place cleaned up and we’ll call for take out!” You say to him as you take the towel and wet it clean off his face.

You ordered Chinese and he ran down to the bodega down the street from your place and picked up a couple of small cupcakes and candles. You lit a fire in the fireplace. You ate on the floor in a pile of pillows and blankets. You both talked about anything and everything, sharing food, drinking wine and him laughing at you because after about your 3rd glass you couldn’t hold your sticks right to grab the food so you just stabbed into it with one stick and ate like that.

Once dinner was done, he grabbed the cupcakes and put a candle in one. With the lights turned out and only the fire lighting the room, you see his silhouette walk towards you. Singing. His voice makes you melt each time you hear him.

“Felicidades mi amor en tu día que lo pases con sana alegría muchos años de paz y armonía felicidad, felicidad, felicidad”

You close your eyes and blow out the candle.

He sits next to you, “what did you wish for mi querida?”

“That I never want this night to end!” You smile at him.

“Hmmm well it doesn’t have to end yet!” He says as he kisses you and pushes you into the pillows.

Cupcakes long forgotten.

His hands trace up and down your curves. He kisses you again. He pushes the hair that falls over your eyes, it seems to keep falling just the same as he keeps falling for you. He smiles at you, looking at you as if it’s the first time he sees you again.

“What?” You ask as your hands trace up and down his back.

“Nothing, it’s just I feel like I’m the luckiest man alive right now.”

You blush, biting your lip. He kisses you again, hands coming to your thighs, pushing your dress up. He lifts it up over your head, you begin to unbutton his shirt and push it off over his arms, then his undershirt is removed as you make your way to his belt. He grinds against your core, causing you to moan against his mouth. His belt comes out and you throw it across the room. He sits up to his knees removing his pants. He sits for moment taking in the sight of you waiting with lust and love your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful mi amor.” He says licking his lips.

Laying gentle kisses on your stomach. He works his way down hooking his thumbs into your panties as he removes them slowly. You sit up removing your bra and lay back down. He begins a trail of kisses down your leg and stops your thigh, picks up your other leg and begins trailing kisses and bites down this leg until he gets to where you want him most. He licks a stride up your core and takes your nub into his mouth sucking hard, taking your fold into his mouth suckling gently, you grab his hair in your hands as you moan. He inserts his tongue into your center, going in and out at a slow pace.

“Oh Rafi, so good” thrusting your hips up as his nose brushes against your swollen bud.

He licks back up to your pearl as he then inserts one, then two fingers. He begins a steady pace and you grip his hair harder and he moans, with that it sends vibrations up your spine and you can’t hold it any longer. He can feel you clenching him tight.

“Si venga por mi mami.” Continuing to suck harder and moving his fingers in a come hither motion and his words were your your release.

He removes his fingers sucking your essence off of himself and come up for a kiss. Your breathless and your in a high, he removes his boxers and settles in between your legs.

“You ready carino?” He asks as he kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise just low enough to cover but that can be seen if your shirt moves just right.

You nod at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He lines up with your entrance and inserts himself, slowly, he’s driving you crazy with the snail like pace. He lets you adjust to size once he’s completely seated.

There is no rush tonight, he starts moving, slowly, and it’s overwhelming your senses. You move your hips up to meet his, scratching down his back as you take his earlobe in your mouth, causing him to growl. He hitches your leg up against him so he can go deeper into and you moan loudly as he hits your spot over and over again.

“Right there, harder Rafi.” You say kissing him again, biting his bottom lip.

He picks up a faster, harder pace. The noises you are making cause him to smirk. He likes watching you squirm underneath him.

“Te gusta eso mi vida, hmmm?” He asks.

Oh how you love when talks to you in Spanish.

“Mmmm, si papi!” You growl in his ear.

He growls, making gentle but fast circles on your clit.

He feels you clenching around him.

“Aye mami, venga otra vez para mi.”

And again just like that you came undone, milking him through his orgasm.

He lays on top of you as you’re both catching your breathe. He looks into your eyes, then kisses you again. You smile against his lips.

“Mmmm, happy birthday to me!” You giggle.

He chuckles and begins to tickle you.

“S-stop! Rafi!” As you try to wiggle away from him, but he keeps you close pulling you to his side and pulling a blanket over both of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Thank you for the best birthday ever Rafi!”

“Even if it was a disaster, mi vida?”

“I now have a wonderful memory and you made this birthday unforgettable. Just you attempting to make is special, did make it quite special to me.”

“Te amo mi amor!”

“I love you you Rafi.”

Cuddling against him, you drift off to sleep smiling and even more in love with your husband.

llnzmorgan  asked:

Geralt and Yen for the shipping meme? :D

*cries* thank u. 

  • falls asleep on the couch- Geralt, probably. “I was just resting my eyes, Yen.” “Uh-huh. That’ll be why there’s drool on my favourite couch cushion?” 

  • makes friends with the neighbors- Actually I want to say Geralt does this but like…Accidentally? Yennefer is quite happy to keep things private and she isn’t like rude or cold or anything she just doesn’t go out of her way to mingle. Geralt is like Tall and Strong looking so people will approach him and ask him for favours carrying heavy things or like “my cat is stuck in a tree could you??” and he’s too nice to say no? So he just gets roped into doing all these things for their neighbours and of course they insist on thanking him so he gets invited over for like tea and cake and stuff and he really just wants to keep himself to himself and live a nice, chill life with Yennefer but that ain’t happening. Yennefer thinks this is hilarious and accepts every single thank you invitation and teases Geralt while they’re there because “what a hero,” and he’s just like ¬_¬ 

  • is the adventurous eater- Probably Yennefer tbh. Geralt just eats meat off a stick and is happy with it. Yen has slightly more Refined tastes and any time anywhere new opens near them she insists on going and trying it out. Geralt is just…Baffled by it all. Like it’s small and there are tiny dots of sauce like he needs more sauce than that, ‘are they afraid they’re going to run out Yen??’ She rolls her eyes and watches him have an aneurysm trying to decide which piece of the 15-set cutlery he’s been given to use. ‘If you just use your hands to make it simple I am going to murder you with this knife, Geralt.’ 

  • hogs the covers at night- Definitely Yennefer. She’s not even sorry about it and she’s not subtle about it either. Geralt will like…raise his eyebrows at her and she’ll just shrug at him like “Yes, is there a problem??” And he just smirks and “No, not at all, carry on.” And she just…Yep, fine then, and tugs a little bit more over to her side. 

  • forgets to do the dishes- Hmmm, probably Yennefer is the one who genuinely forgets about them. Geralt “forgets” because he hates doing them but it never works. She boycotts all kisses and cuddles until he’s done it, it’s his night, he agreed. He complies with a lot of grunting and grumbling that they should just buy loads of disposable paper plates and plastic cutlery and save this nonsense. 

  • tries to surprise their partner more often- Geralt tries. Tries being the operative word. He’s very rarely successful. Somehow Yen always rumbles him and knows what he’s planning ahead of time and he’s just like ??? How do you do this!? But on the rare occasion he does manage to actually genuinely surprise her (usually with little, impulsive things he just does in the moment) she really loves them. And even when she knows what he’s up to she appreciates the effort and makes sure to let him know of that. 

  • leaves dirty laundry on the floor- Yennefer. It probably drives Geralt insane but she’s not stopping any time soon. 

  • stays up til 2 AM reading- Yennefer again, I think. She just gets Absorbed and is one of those like “one more chapter” that turns into the entire book type people. Geralt knows better than to try and encourage her to come to bed and has learned that he must never, ever kiss her and try and distract her in that way when she is reading. It will not end well for him. He just leaves her to it, mostly. Sometimes he’ll read to her too if she can’t sleep and she loves that more than just about anything else. 

  • sings in the shower- I want to say Geralt for hilarity reasons but Yennefer insists that it isn’t singing because he sounds like he’s being murdered and it’s just downright alarming. Geralt scowls at this assessment of his singing but honestly…She’s not wrong. 

  • takes the selfies- Yennefer. The concept would probably just confuse Geralt tbh. Like when Yen shoves her phone into his hands and tells him to take one of both of them because he has longer arms and it’s easier for him he inevitably ends up with like his thumb or finger covering half the lens and it’s out of focus and blurry and honestly just a disaster. Geralt doesn’t picture well he blinks at the wrong moment or is looking in the wrong direction or just looks utterly glaikit. Yennefer has given up on him and announces it’s a good thing she’s good looking enough for both of them. 

  • plans date night- Yennefer. Geralt’s idea of date night is just…”We have dinner, then sex.” To which Yennefer rolls her eyes and informs him that, “That’s every night, darling.” To which Geralt shrugs and grumbles something along the lines of “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.” But he knows Yen likes getting dressed up and going out and doing nice things and he doesn’t have any real objection to it. Dinner and sex tends to be in her plans anyway so he’s good with it. 
A Lazy Day

Aerith Gainsborough woke to the warmth of the sun on her face. She blinked a few times while she waited for her vision to clear of the haze of sleep. A yawn escaped her as she tried to rise from her sleeping position. Tried being the operative word because an arm had her locked in place. That arm belonged to Cloud Strife, the man who seemed adamant not to let go of his hold on her.

She couldn’t remember exactly how they had slept, but she knew for a fact that their sleeping positions had changed during the night. That had Aerith giggling quietly. No matter what position they slept in, she always found herself being spooned from behind and wrapped in a tight embrace by her lover when the morning came.

His hold on her tightened as she moved to stand, as if refusing to let her leave his embrace. A few more attempts and she got herself free. She stood and walked to the window, pulling the curtains apart to let more of the sunlight in the room. It looked like it was going to be a great day.

She went back to the bed and nudged her lover awake. “Cloud, get up. It’s morning already.”

No reaction from the man who was seemed sound asleep.

“Cloud.” She tried shaking him awake. “Cloud, get your ass up. I have to-kyaaa!” She cut off with a squeal as her hand was seized in a firm grip and found herself falling into bed again, giggling all the way.

Cloud tumbled her down on the bed and enveloped her in his arms, her back to his front – the same spooning position they had earlier.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a laugh. “We don’t have time to laze around in bed, Cloud.” She tried pulling his arm away, but it was like trying to lift a heavy boulder. The man just won’t budge, really.

“I know you’re awake, Cloud,” she said to the man who was her beloved, playful exasperation in her tone.

“Mm,” was the non-answer as he pulled her closer to the warmth of his body, his breath tickling the sensitive area behind her ear.

When nothing she did eased his grip, she tried turning over to face him. Cloud’s hold loosened a bit only to allow her to move a bit. Once she was in position, his arm locked her in place yet again.

“Cloud,” she called faintly in a sing-song voice, “we really need to get up, love.” She had to try and reason with him. “Denzel’s gonna wake soon. He’d requested pancakes for breakfast today.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna wake for a coupla hours more, Aerith,” Cloud countered in a murmur, still not willing to fully wake up from his slumber. “He was up late way past his bedtime playing that new video game. We can be lazy for a while.”

“And you know this, how?” she asked, arching a brow.

A wince. “I might have… played with him for a bit.”

That wasn’t so bad. But she know the tone of Cloud’s voice, knew there was more to it than what he had already told her. So she waited.

“And then allowed him to convince me to play with him past his bedtime,” he added begrudgingly.

“What?” she exclaimed in a whisper. If Denzel really had slept late, she wasn’t going to wake him up and deprive him of sleep, even if it was his own fault. That didn’t excuse her man, though.

“Cloud Strife!” She swatted the arm around her waist. “He has a set bedtime for a reason. Convince you, really? I’d bet he practically begged you to let him stay awake after his bedtime.”

Cloud opened one eye and gave her a one-eyed stare. “I couldn’t exactly tell him no after he did.” He leaned closer and murmured, “Just like how you couldn’t tell him no when he asked you if we could buy that damn video game for him.”

A blush crept up her cheeks. Cloud had her there. Well, in her defense, Denzel had looked so hopeful yet hesitant at the same time as he showed them that game. Denzel’s blue eyes had shined in anticipation, a look that was so rare from the boy. Who could’ve said no to that?

Denzel didn’t ask for much from them ever since they took him in and adopted him almost half a year ago. It took a lot of cajoling for him to actually voice out any of his wants. In fact – now that she thought about it – that must have been only the third of fourth time he had asked for something for himself.

“We know Denzel isn’t gonna wake up any time soon,” he said as he closed his opened eye, “So shut up and just go back to sleep.” A decree punctuated by squeezing her impossibly closer.

Aerith gave in and snuggled against Cloud, resting her hand on his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart in her hands. This was her favorite way of sleeping with him. Something about it reassured her.

Silence filled the air between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Cloud thought his woman had finally started to fall back asleep when he heard her talk.

“We did vow to do everything we can to give him as normal a childhood as we could.” It was spoken in a tender tone – a concession.

“You’re not sleeping, though,” Cloud grumbled in reply.

A chuckle from his brunette. “I’m not feeling sleepy, Cloud.”

Cloud grinned, the grin he knew Aerith thought of as mischievous yet endearing. “I know of a sure way to get you relaxed enough to sleep.” He opened his eyes to look at her reaction.

Cloud’s mako-blue eyes met Aerith’s stunned, innocent green ones. Her cheeks were flushed with color, no doubt embarrassed at his innuendo.

“Oh, you’re terrible!” She slapped him on the arm.

Cloud couldn’t stop himself – he laughed at the scandalized look on her face. Aerith just looked at him with her version of an evil stare. But she was soon laughing with him, her embarrassment forgotten.

Cloud took advantage of Aerith’s distraction and tickled her. A peal of feminine laughter filled the room.

“Mercy. Mercy!” Aerith wheezed out the plea when Cloud gave her no quarter.

They continued the playful struggle and made quite the ruckus. It was no surprise they found a brown-haired boy peeking inside the room. Cloud noticed him first so he stopped her torment and nodded towards the boy.

Aerith immediately went to Denzel and crouched in front of him. She laid a gentle caress on his cheek, “Sorry, dear. Did we wake you?”

Denzel shook his head, his eyes still bleary from being woken. The kid looked so sleepy it was a wonder he was upright. “I just remembered…” He looked to Cloud, then back to Aerith. “Mom and Dad used to laugh like that,” he confessed in a rushed whisper. The memory must have evoked emotions that led him to come to them for comfort.

Aerith smiled at Denzel, delight in her eyes. Denzel knew it was because she was proud of him for having voices the memory aloud. Cloud didn’t smile, but he had the same pride in his eyes when Denzel looked at him.

Their reactions stemmed from the fact that he used to break off his speech once he realized he might accidentally mention his parents. Cloud and Aerith had encouraged him to talk about them more, but the pain had been too unbearable that he just tried to avoid the topic completely. But the pain was getting better – he was getting better.

Like they had told him, his parents were a part of him and they deserved to be remembered by the son they loved and continued to watch over. He could do no other than honour their memory and share them with the people who took him in, accepted him, and treated him as their own.

“Aerith said you wanted pancakes,” Cloud said in the tender silence that followed. It was his way of lightening the mood because he knew Denzel was still uncomfortable with their affection. It will take time, but he knew things would get better for their family of three.

The boy shook his head again. “Maybe not yet.” He swayed a bit as he stifled a yawn. Sleep was beckoning him.

“This is what you get when you play so late into the night,” Aerith scolded Denzel gently. She gave a pointed stare to Cloud as well.

Denzel rubbed an eye while he yawned. “I wanted someone to play with, so I waited for Cloud.” Another yawn. Suddenly, he got an impish glint in his eyes. “If I had a brother, I wouldn’t have to wait and stay up so late.”

That got Aerith sputtering, her mouth agape as she looked at Denzel. She then turned accusing eyes to Cloud as if he was the one to blame for the kid’s words. Cloud couldn’t do anything but shrug his shoulders. He had no idea where that came from.

Mischief carried out, Denzel walked out of the room without a word and closed the door. Standing just outside the door, he said, “Just saying, you wouldn’t want Zack and Tifa to beat you to it.”

“Denzel!” That was Aerith. She sounded so peeved. Cloud just laughed, though.

Denzel was wearing a smile when he reached his room and lay back down in his bed. The smile was still in place as he closed his eyes and surrendered to slumber.

Cloud was still laughing while Aerith stood and jabbed an incriminating finger at him. “Cloud Strife! What have you been teaching Denzel?”

“That was more likely Zack’s influence than mine, love.” Cloud got his laughter under control. He stood and approached his enraged lover. Taking her in his arms while skilfully avoiding her light punches, he added, “You know how much he hangs out at their bar because of Marlene.”

“I don’t think he’s a good influence on Denzel.”

Cloud snickered. He turned Aerith in his arms and touched his forehead to hers. “A little bit of mischief doesn’t hurt.”

Aerith narrowed her eyes at him, plotting her revenge on the foolish man who was Cloud’s friend. “Doesn’t mean I won’t hurt him for that mischief.”

“Whatever you’re planning in that gorgeous head of yours, I’m in.”

“Tifa’ll be in it, too, I’m sure.”

“Zack is well and truly fucked.”

That succeeded in getting a laugh out of Aerith.

“So, Denzel wants a brother.” A gentle bite on the sensitive space between her neck and shoulder. “We did vow to give him a normal childhood. Siblings are part of the deal, I think.”

“Oh my god! Cloud!” For the third time that morning, Cloud received a hit on the arm.

Cloud just scooped Aerith up in his arms and deposited her on the bed. “Stop hitting me, lover,” he growled at her playfully as he covered her body with his.

Giggling, Aerith put her hands on Cloud’s shoulders. “I thought you were feeling lazy this morning,” she teased.

“We can be lazy after.” He took Aerith’s hands and laid them above her head.

She chuckled but didn’t protest his hold. “Guess we have a plan.”

With that, Cloud kissed Aerith, his lover’s laughter a taste he loved on his lips.

Because it’s #NationalLazyDay. Did I make it in time, though?

Got the idea for this fic from a question posted on twitter about clerith on NationalLazyDay by @astoryofalove and the twitter thread starring @hollyfig @naturesass and @aprilsync

anonymous asked:

Okay, so you know that GF short where Mabel, Candy, and Grenda give Soos a surprise makeover and dress him up like David Bowie in "The Labyrinth"? I think it would be hilarious if they tried to give Ford a surprise makeover and dress him up like the Phantom of the Opera. The operative word probably being "tried" lol.

I don’t think Ford would appreciate that very much. Lol. XD

(fic preview because why not):

After they finished lunch, they walked through the park at a leisurely pace - they were in no rush, this being their only stop of the day - hand-in-hand, enjoying the gentle breeze of the mid-October air. As expected, Peter began pointing out different spots he frequented, certain park benches he’d preferred or trees that he had tried to climb (the operative word being ‘tried’). “Broke my arm falling outta that one,” he said cheerfully when addressing what looked to be the largest tree in the entire park. “Tried again the week after I got my cast off, on my seventh birthday. Only sprained my shoulder that time!”

“I worry about you sometimes,” Gamora sighed. “And by sometimes, I mean frequently.”

“And I kissed Kimberly W. under that tree. Or maybe it was Kimberly F.,” he wondered, eyeing an oak tree with a particularly low overhang.

“You’ve kissed many Kimberlys in your lifetime, it seems.” Gamora reached around to grab Peter’s other hand in hers and began walking backwards, guiding him towards the aforementioned tree. “How old were you?”

“Does it matter?” Peter murmured, moving in to bring their joined hands behind her back, slowly pressing her against the tree trunk. “I just wanna kiss you right now.” He bent down to meet her halfway as Gamora tilted her chin upwards. Just as their noses began to brush, their eyelashes fluttering closed in anticipation, Peter suddenly found himself embracing empty air, as she’d slipped out from under him and was now practically sprinting away, glancing over her shoulder at him with a wicked smirk. “You’re the worst,” he called after her.

“Lies and slander, you speak too often about how I’m your favorite person in the universe for that to be true,” she shouted back, beaming. “Keep up, Peter, I’d like to to see this ‘waterpark’ you speak of!”

lilsherlockian1975  asked:

Congrats, sweetness! May I have a Sherlolly story, please? All the hugs and all the kisses, Lil

Aww, thank you, hun! This is going to be an explicit fic in part 2, but as I said, I can’t brain writing much more than foreplay right now, so hopefully it will come Friday. This part is suggestive but not too much so I’m not tagging it not safe for work.

An Overabundance Of Cherries (½) - When Sherlock Holmes thinks of Molly, he associates her with cherry-printed clothing.

Read Chapter 1 @ AO3 | Buy Me A Coffee? | Send Me A Prompt

He would never admit to snooping. Not that he needed to; he was a consulting detective, he was sure most people assumed he did so anyway.

But most people never let him use their bedroom as a bolthole, either.

He’d noticed Molly would almost always tidy it up before she let him in if he showed up while there was some semblance of her being awake enough to do so. He did try, at times, to be courteous of the hour. And there were times, of course, when he was gracious enough to share the sofa with the cat if it was too late in the hour, and lay awake and think. And it worked well for a time, this arrangement, even after her engagement to Meat Dagger, though he doubted the man himself approved. Molly never breathed a word, though.

Though…she didn’t let him stay the night. If she wanted to spend the night with her fiancee, he came to his bolthole finding a tidy bedroom and an empty flat.

And then, he would snoop.

He had wondered what the attraction was, beyond the physical. Beyond the rather pale resemblance. Was he a kind man? Did he treat her well? Was he gracious to her friends and kind to what little family she had left, scattered to the wind as it was? Had he even met he sister in Berwick-upon-Tweed or heard stories of her nieces who she only really knew through photographs?

To be honest, he wondered why he knew of them. Why she had told him. Why he had listened and cataloged the information and the pictures of Grace and Tabitha and settled it firmly in her room in his mind palace where all the pertinent information about her went. He and Molly weren’t friends, not really. They could have been, possibly, if things had been different. If he had allowed it.

Perhaps he should have.

No use for it now.

It was in one of those times where he was alone in the flat where he found something out of place. Something…intimate…out of place. Oh, her bedroom was always tidy, so clean he’d expect she could probably perform surgery in it with a low chance of patient infection. But sticking out of the hamper was a brassiere.

A cherry patterned brassiere.

He flashed back to the first time he saw her, in Stamford’s office. Not officially on duty, just hired, probably having just been warned against angering him. Hair pulled back in a sleek bun, slightly off center at the nape of her neck, simple black skirt that ended just above the knees, white button down blouse with no frills, and the cherry print cardigan he would soon come to associate with her. Even then he had been struck by the thought she was soft, and he could bend her to his will.

He should have known differently.

He fingered the brassiere and thought absently about doing more. It was true, he had those thoughts from time to time. He did his best to ignore them, as they held no place in his life. Carnal thoughts would simply slow the scientific process, do nothing more than complicate things. Complicate everything.

And she wasn’t his to have.

She was someone else’s.

Greedy bastard he might be, he wouldn’t hurt her by putting her in a position to make her break a vow she’d made. She promised herself to someone else, and they could be friends. Nothing more.

The brassiere went in the hamper, the lid closed, and he tried to forget about it.

Tried, being the operative word.

A New Year’s to Remember-Percival Graves

Originally posted by magicfolk

Pairing: Percival Graves x Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2094

Warnings: Mild language

Inspired loosely (very loosely) after reading @fanfic-shiz story Someone Like You at least on the aspect of Percival Graves walking the reader home and me wanting to have a somewhat funny story involving Percival Graves

‘Come on, it will be fun’ she begs, ‘He’s really nice and charming’ she says…” you mutter under your breath, “why do you ever listen to her?”

The ‘her’ in question was your baby sister Irene, a spunky yet slightly airheaded girl, who had taken to the new 1920 no-maj world in stride. You originally hadn’t even planned on going to the New Year’s Eve party some of the girls from work had set up, but she had begged, even saying she had a perfect blind date match for you. For your own sanity and hearing in the future, you finally agreed. You had hoped she had actually picked out a good match.

Apparently fate had a cruel sense of humor because she of course introduced you to Lance Guptill, or ‘Mr. Sexual Harassment’ as you had dubbed him at the MAC. Still, you didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so you forced a smile on and off the four of you went, your sister babbling on and on to her date, while you tried to keep Guptill’s hand from progressing any lower on your behind, your mother’s words of ‘be a lady’ echoing in your head.

Keep reading