(except deal with spiders. something you and i have in common)

dating mj — spider-man universe

this is so long but i love mj so much and i love queer characters and headcanons so here we go!! hope you like them. requested by @anonkidd 

• so you would not like her at first 

• she’s very intriguing but comes off a closed and cold at times 

• she doesn’t try very hard at all because she feels no need to 

• yet you two constantly butt heads 

• y'all are sarcastic as fuck 

• but it’s endearing in a way 

• it’s never on the border of being rude or hurtful 

• just banter 

 • ned and peter roll their eyes whenever it happens. y'all are too much. 

come on, y/n and mj—get a room already 

• mj scrunches up her nose and goes 

• shut up, loser 

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anonymous asked:

i know this is a gaster imagines but could you do some grillster? like what kind of relationship the gasters have with their grillbys? it's ok if you dont want to


- He is so in love with his flame husbando
- Gaster clings to anything warm and soft
- Thus Grillby has to deal with his bf on his arm like constantly
- Grillby finds it a bit irritating, at times, but lets it happen
- He doesn’t mind the contact, he’s just not so big on PDA
- Gaster learns to hold back a little while they’re in public so Grillz is more comfortable
- Grillby is stoic and calm, which balances Gaster’s anxiety
- But Gaster is emotional and open, which balances Grillby’s more closed off nature
- So they’re pretty good for each other
- It takes a lot to make Grillz mad, though when angered his temper is fiery (ha)
- He usually ends up yelling, which makes Gaster run away and cry
- Which makes Grillby feel super guilty
- But sometimes Gaster does need someone to tell him off, even if it upsets him
- Just…maybe not so loudly
- Grillby’s sort of the more dominant one in the sense that he lectures Gast when it’s needed
- No more 14 hour shifts at the lab, or going two days without food because he ‘forgot’ to eat
- He’s gentle and caring whenever Gast comes home exhausted or depressed
- Likewise, Gast tends to fret over Grillby and makes sure he’s feeling okay, both physically and emotionally
- Grillby could be dying inside and no one would ever know
- So Gast makes an effort to check up on his wellbeing
- Also Grillby makes Gaster chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream and sprinkles when he’s good, and it’s like his favorite thing ever


- The main difference here is that Grillby’s flames are bright blue :v
- And he runs an underground crime ring
- His bar is just a front for the real sales
- He sells the Echo that Gaster produces, as well as various magical weapons
- Pretty much everyone is corrupt so even the Royal Guards buy from him
- Asgore probably knows but doesn’t give a fuck
- Gast gets a cut of the profits from being a main supplier
- As well as the leader’s trophy husband
- Their relationship seems shallow at a glance, but there’s some true affection hidden there
- Deep, deep down
- They would never betray each other, even under threat of death
- Gaster trusts Grillby to touch him
- And he always comes running when Grillby needs his help
- Grillz’s gang is often in competition with Muffet’s
- Thus a lot of fights break out between them
- Grillby has won all of them thanks to Gaster’s unbeatable fighting skills
- The dude kicks some serious ass
- Except for one time where he’s gravely injured and almost dies, which sends Grillby into a frenzy of rage and panic
- But Gaster eventually pulls through
- On the surface, Grillby quits the gang and Gast gradually gives up Echo
- They want a shot at a more peaceful life
- Yeah, they still get into fights with various monsters on the streets
- But they turn their focus to growing closer, forming a more loving relationship
- Honestly, this has been their goal for years
- But it never could have happened in the Underground
- Such ‘weakness’ would have been taken advantage of in an instant


- A lot of people seem to swap Grillby with Muffet in this AU
- Which is absolutely hilarious so yeah, he’s a mildly creepy baker with overpriced food
- His wares are delicious and often spicy
- Gaster has never shopped at his stand before, but one day he’s meandering around and feels kinda thirsty
- Figures he might as well support the spider fire bake sale
- So he tries to buy some fire cider
- It’s like, 10,000 gold
- He lives in a fukcing cave do you think he has that much money
- Grillby thinks he’s cute and gives him one on the house
- From that point on they just so happen to cross paths more often
- Gaster usually leaves with a free treat
- He starts saving up the tips he gets from ferrying and finally has enough to actually pay for something
- Grillby refuses at first, but Gaster insists
- And Grillby’s like ‘ok but I’m repaying you by taking you out on a date’
- Things just escalate from there
- Grillby is super goofy and outgoing in this AU
- And we all know US Gast is a total recluse
- He forces himself to come out of his shell for his bf’s sake
- While he still retreats when he needs space, the change is good for him
- He’s not so lonely anymore, and legitimately enjoys talking to others
- He likes to help with the bake sale
- Monsters are a bit wary when buying from a tall, shadowy, hooded figure
- But they come to realize that he’s super sweet and polite
- Grillby is the only one who gets to see his face, though


- Ok I can’t draw for shit but just imagine: Grillby’s flames look like a nebula
- Gaster thinks he’s absolutely gorgeous
- They’re like, the prettiest monsters in the Outer Realms
- Gaster is sort of famous among his kind, so I guess you could say they’re a celebrity couple
- They have a fanbase
- Shippers galore
- Monsters post things about them on the Outernet
- Alphys writes fics about them
- Grillby has full access to Gaster’s wealth, but he only uses it for things he really needs
- He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s with Gast for his money
- Gaster still likes to go full Sugar Daddy and give Grillz lots of unnecessary but awesome things
- He decks out Grillby’s bar with the best decor and cooking equipment
- It becomes the most popular eatery around
- It’s also a bit of a rarity since both upper and lower class monsters can afford to go there
- Outertale society is very classist and divided by income
- The poor struggle while the rich folks do whatever they want; there’s very little help for those in need
- Grillby offers both regularly priced items and exclusive foods
- It’s one of the only places where Royal and common monsters interact
- This is a huge step forward for their society
- The rich start to feel sympathy for their less fortunate citizens, and make an effort to contribute to the community
- A welfare system is established, orphanages and homeless shelters are constructed, new homes are built to combat overpopulation
- For the first time in centuries, every monster has access to basic resources
- All because some short, excitable, rich dork fell in love with a simple barkeep
- I’m sorry this was supposed to be Grillster but I went all worldbuildy on you


- Grillby is a water elemental
- He has a merman sort of form, with a humanoid torso and fish tail, but his entire body is fluid
- He’s not comprised of actual water but a slightly more dense substance
- It’s almost a solid? Like oobleck
- Anywho, Gaster lowkey stalks him
- There’s nothing malicious behind it, he’s simply curious and too nervous to say hello
- Grillby knows exactly what’s going on
- He finds it amusing
- Finally, he surprises Gaster by sneaking up behind him and lightly tugging on his tailfin
- Gaster shrieks, spins around, blushes like crazy
- He’s so embarrassed to be caught
- At a loss for what to do, he swims away
- Grillby is a little sad but brushes it off
- Though later, he exits his home to see Gaster waiting there
- He shyly offers Grillby an eel
- Mer-monster courting rituals always begin with a gift
- First date: start!
- They spend the day swimming through kelp forests together
- Gaster turns out to be a huge goofball
- He hides behind kelp leaves and tries to tackle Grillby
- And phases right through him
- Or puts rocks on Grillby’s head and laughs as they sink through
- Grillz is only solid when gentle pressure is applied to his body
- Gaster is surprised and delighted when he gets a hug at the end of the date
- They go on many more, and each begins when Gaster brings Grillby a new gift
- Grillz keeps all of them, no matter how silly they are

anonymous asked:

This Superman guy's pretty great, huh?

Okay. Figured I’d write this at some point, seems like as good a place as any to do it.

Yes: Superman is pretty great. The character’s great, the costume’s great, the cast is great, the powers are great, the scope of the kind of adventures you can tell with him is great, the mythology’s great, the power he has to inspire on the page and in the real world is great. I’ve known that since I was…I dunno, three? Two? I’m told he was my first three-syllable word. I’m not sure what my first exposure would have been; Superman the Animated Series was airing when I was a kid, my dad had the Fleischer cartoons on tape, we’d watch reruns of The Adventures of Superman whenever they aired, I had some odd issues of Superman Adventures, I had picture books like The True Story of Superman, Superman: Slippery When Bad and I Hate Superman!, I even had an abridged version of John Byrne’s Man of Steel many years before I would change my tune on it. It was well past the whole nine yards of lunchboxes and Superman-themed birthday parties - mom and dad were Lois-Mom and Jimmy-Dad for a bit, who got a call one time from a teacher in preschool that I had dramatically taken off my shirt to show the temporary S-Shield tattoo I’d gotten on my chest. My dad ended up having to drive to every Burger King in the area asking for any spare Superman toys because I couldn’t stand that they had been discontinued before I could get them all and I was making life hell for everyone in the process. I couldn’t play Superman with other kids on the playground, because I’d demand we recreate the scripts of adventures verbatim.

Around seven or thereabouts though, while I never developed any of the disdain towards him that so many seem to have, I drifted away for a while towards Batman and Spider-Man. Purely by coincidence, this is also the age I was diagnosed with Asperger’s.

It’s not something I talk about a great deal these days. Not because of some sense of shame, to be as clear as possible about that right upfront. It isn’t even a matter of my especially being able to pass as neurotypical - take me out of my comfort zone into any number of common social circumstances and that illusion falls by the wayside. But I’ve carved out I feel a pretty decent niche where I’m typically fairly satisfied and able to function at a level that meets my own standards, and as a result it’s usually background radiation of my life, not something that comes up unbidden until a situation demands I start thinking about it again. Even when I do, thinking about it much often leaves me feeling self-conscious and self-indulgent, and convinced I’m either being stupidly self-aggrandizing or stupidly self-pitying about it.

So naturally, even once I really started to get back into Superman in earnest at 13 alongside comics in general and he became my favorite character in earnest, there are some associations it took me awhile to make.

I’m not quite certain when I started to think about it, but the structure of how I thought about it I know came about thanks to @postcardsfromspace‘s (excellent) article I See Your Value Now on learning about their own Asperger’s. I doubt it’s an association any creators for the character have given any thought (aside from maybe Mark Waid, given that in an interview on Birthright he specifically noted how his idea for Martha Kent becoming a UFO buff in response to her son was meant as a parallel to parents of kids with autism having to become self-taught experts on the subject), and all a Google search immediately turns up is comparing a young Clark’s troubles with his X-Ray vision in Man of Steel to sensory overload in children with autism. It’s not something that would have likely even occurred to me if it wasn’t for that…well, that I have Asperger’s, and Superman’s a special interest, and as a default I’m always ready on some level to connect any input I get back to him.

Obviously, there’s Clark himself. He screams it, right? Likely just because of a general conflation of ‘nerd’ traits with ‘Aspie’ traits, but it’s all there right on the surface: shy, awkward, naïve, can’t read a room to save his life, unaware of some general social conventions given his penchant for drab suits, horn-rimmed glasses and fedoras well into the 21st century, either without many friends or locked into a rigid and small social circle, by all appearances more alive behind a screen than he ever is to anyone’s face. Even the more confident takes on him, such as in the Reeves TV show or the New 52 Action Comics, seem to lack a social grace or two, seem to grate on the people around him. Precision-constructed by the greatest man to ever live to be beneath the notice of his peers in every way imaginable, of course you end up with that guy.

…except even when Clark’s purely a post-Smallville construct on Superman’s part, he’s not made out of nothing, is he? The Kansas boy who grew up reading A Tale of Two Cities as a toddler and obsessively pouring over astronomy textbooks for clues can hazard a guess of what it feels like to be a nerd. The guy who grew up on a farm who flies and can accidentally shatter steel in his grip is entirely familiar with how it feels to awkwardly maneuver around in a crowded city. The square who grew up in the middle of nowhere constantly getting accused of not knowing how the world really works can probably express a little doubt over his own self-awareness and naiveté if he absolutely has to. Clark Kent is historically built on Superman’s own worst image of himself.

(This incidentally, along with plenty of other storytelling-based reasons, is why I intensely dislike it when Clark’s the ‘real guy’, and therefore confident and charming and on top of things; it’s Kryptonite to the ideas in play there.)

And the shyness? The sense of being out of place? The - let’s get right to the heart of it - alien-ness?

Superman’s pretty cool. He’s friendly; he’s understanding; he’s clever and kind and determined. He’s also something of a loner who’s often surprisingly loathe to open up to people, and even once he’s married he still needs plenty of time to himself to think things through. He’s someone who when he puts on the costume always engages with the world in a very specific context: where his natural talents are most obviously geared towards being helpful, where so long as he can pull off Sweet and Composed and make some speeches when he has to people will accept him with open arms. Being Superman puts him in a situation where he can show his best self, personally and socially and morally, and be accepted for his goodness in a way nerdy, quiet Clark Kent never can.

And god, does he need that acceptance.

That’s often applied to painfully maudlin stories of him hand-wringing over his social impact on humanity and whether he can save all the little children of the world from cancer or whatever, but it’s still something else that seems to be pretty consistent across the various interpretations. Unless he’s barreling ahead with a degree of self-confidence bordering on flat-out arrogance, he’s always worried about how he seems in the eyes of the world. Whether that means Red Kryptonite externalizing anxieties of old age or powerlessness or throwing him into dreamworlds of hate or irrelevance, or wondering whether he can justify one of his two identities, or pondering his alien nature, or questioning what Superman means as a symbol to the world, or being flat-out replaced, or even protecting his secret, it’s always the same question refracted through endless prisms: Can I belong here? Am I doing well enough, being useful enough, to deserve what I’ve been given? Will they find me out? Would they ever accept me if they knew the truth?

For all the joy that comes with who he is, that’s his life too: it’s growing up in Smallville knowing there’s no one else who’ll ever know the distinct timbre of air-pressure changes when a hummingbird slows down its wingbeat a fraction, no one he could talk about the sight of snowflakes assembling themselves out of freezing raindrops to without sounding as if he’s out of his mind, no one who could fully empathize with having to practice normal human reactions to the world. It’s spending half his life trying to be a normal guy among normal people and failing because of his own insecurities, the other half really being able to do his best in his own element and being the person he wants to be, but never being sure if it’s enough for those around him. It’s finally meeting other Kryptonians or superheroes but realizing even their own experiences diverge so sharply that the communication gap remains, that as a matter of circumstance he is and will always remain fundamentally other in some ways, no matter how deeply he connects with other people.

His relationships seem to fit the mold too - it works pretty dang well that his two best friends are a coworker who’s simultaneously the cool dude who takes him under his wing and the kid who uncritically looks up to him, and someone with the same ‘hobby’ who’s himself pretty well-known for having issues opening up to people. Or that his wife falling in love with him is framed in terms of her looking past him at his most vulnerable and awkward and unable to fit in to see the person he actually is when no one else can, while a major part of his love for her is her being the kind of person who’s pushy enough to force him out of his shell and some of his more self-defeating behaviors.

And that his worst enemy, in spite of his aura of smug self-regard, doesn’t seem able to relate to other people on a fundamental level or manage to work with them very well when he’s not in full control of the situation, even as he needs them to accept and validate him. Lex fails because he’ll never work to bridge that gap in the same way as Superman, seeing that as a ridiculous and unrealistic imposition, and Superman as an intruder into his personal universe trying to force his unrealistic standards of “acknowledge other people and what they think about things” on him while at the same time agonizingly, bafflingly succeeding where Lex fails. He’s the embodiment in that regard of the frustrated, shamed instinct of the isolated that you’re already great, so people should already love and understand you and it’s their fault for not getting it (hence for instance how in All-Star he overtly sees the world and the relationships that make it up in a coldly material manner where people naturally flock to only the most outwardly great around them - colored by a sexist streak that’s taken on a whole new degree of toxic prominence when it comes to the socially awkward in the near-decade since the book’s conclusion).

(It also works that Superman’s character in All-Star is defined by his disconnect from humanity, and that his big character arc is having to become emotionally honest enough to talk with the people who love him about what he’s going through.)

Again, clearly none of this is the intent on the part of those who’ve worked with him over the years. This is by no means the bedrock or secret key to what makes him tick; it’s at best a component in a much larger machine. I’m sure if you dug into it enough you could find something problematic in the proposition, and I won’t pretend there couldn’t be characters closer in every sense to my own experiences.

But none of them would be Superman.

Sure, it helps that I grew up with him, and that he’s a character with enough detail and weird ideas and character work that I can delve into the minutia of him in a way I can’t with anyone else to the same extent other than Batman, but beyond all that, he’s Superman. He’s The Guy, the best, and that I can see myself in him in *any* way means more than it ever could with any other character, because that makes him being a role model mean something else.

For all I talked about how lonely he is above he’s still an idealist, still has friends and a job and weird personal hobbies at his personal ice-cave and a way to express his highest, best self in a way that’s loved by the people around him. The way he sees things differently can be accepted and shared even as he understands and cares for the people around him. He’s happy. And that he can start from a place of being the only one of his kind and end up a good person, the best person, in part because he knows better than anyone what it is to be alone and why others matter so much? That has more weight to people, and to me, than can be expressed.

I mentioned before I’m not wild about Clark being the exclusive true identity in part because of how much it messes with this. I’ve also said elsewhere that while both Clark and Superman are inseparable and true parts of his identity that can’t be denied as important aspects of who he is, if I absolutely had to choose one as being the ‘real’ one I’d go with Superman. And I can pick apart any number of storytelling reasons for that, but thinking about how I relate to Superman in the way I do made me realize something else. I have to see Superman as the truest self because Superman’s who he is at his best, when he’s not afraid or ashamed and can show himself in all his alienness to everyone and be accepted for it. That’s the dream, right? I’m no Superman, but I’ve gotta believe in him, ‘cause I’ve gotta believe in me.

I’m pretty sure some of you can relate.

Princess ‘n the kNight

Words: 6112 

Genre: Fluff, Adventure, Modern Fairytale, Royalty/Princess!Au  

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

“Dear lord of heavenly mercy.” The leaves crunch with Yoongi’s footsteps as he looks upon the treetops to recognize the top of a 300 m cowering tower.

“Look! More seeds Yoongi!” Taehyung dashes to a nearby bush.

“Remind me why I came with you again? God.” Yoongi squints as the sun beams down on him, sweat forming.

Taehyung sprints around excitedly and Yoongi follows slowly from behind. “Hey what’s that?” Curiously, Taehyung pushes an ivy wall aside and disappears. Yoongi sighs and chases him down.

“Look hyung!” Taehyung points and Yoongi tilts his head so far back that he almost falls over. A huge stone tower reaching the sun sits in the middle of the forest. “Let’s climb it!”

Taehyung begins to step on some pushed out rocks on the tower. “Uh…how about no.” Yoongi grabs the back of Taehyung shirt and starts dragging him away.

“Aww but hyunnnnnggg.” Taehyung goes limp and starts to whine but Yoongi continues to drag him away from the looming fortress.

“No Taehyung. I stupidly agreed to join you in collecting seeds. We are not climbing a damn tower. Not today boy.” Yoongi’s voice is stern and he lets go of Taehyung. “I’m going home so do whatever you want.” Today was enough sun exposure for him. He was going home and back to bed.

Taehyung drags his feet behind him - following Yoongi, pouting.

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Made Me a Believer

@mr-starkasm there’s a part where this got angsty but i think you won’t mind :) (also, as i said. inspired by Kesha.) 

Also, if you hate Tony Stark or whatever, you shouldn’t even be on my blog. Don’t like, don’t read. All of that good stuff. 

Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell
I had to learn how to fight for myself
And we both know all the truth I could tell
I’ll just say this is I wish you farewell

He’s the first who doesn’t treat him as though he is something breakable. They haven’t seen each other in a few months after the shit show in that Siberian bunker. The thing that Tony refuses to think about as much as he can. The moment his eyes fall on the younger monarch, Tony feels a faint twinge of irritation somewhere in the middle of his chest. The weak part of him, the one that consumed him in the dark hours of his first month in the empty facility, wants to get a gauntlet in his hand and shoot the man in the face. He wants to scream at the betrayal; at yet one more person who was supposed to be on his side but ultimately turned on him too. That part, the small kid who still believed in people who called themselves his teammates and his friends, wants to question the why.

Luckily, Tony has outgrown that kid in the past few months.

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On black rom


Yes. Even black rom. Which leads me to focus specifically on kismesis first.
The thing is with kismesis is that at first glance it’s just two trolls who hate each other but still make out for kicks. Which wouldn’t make a romantic relationship legitimate/intimate enough to be considered it’s own quadrant.

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“The Devil’s Own” Part 5:  Like Satellites

Bucky has a startling thing to say upon waking up; the Avengers fight Sabretooth. More of your history comes to light.

The Winter Soldier x Reader (Black Widow)


“Jesus, Nat. I think you outran me by about five laps this morning. You need to chill.” Clint shook his head, regarding you wearily. It was early morning, the day after your ruined date with Ryan, the day after Bucky had found you at your club, the day after a tired evening together watching television to stave off the demons that always came for both of you in the night. You’d been woken up by a rapping on your door at 5am sharp; it had been Clint. You always went running at 5am on Mondays, though the more you thought about it, the more you wondered why and exactly who’s idea it had originally been all those years ago… oh yeah, yours. It had been your idea.

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Cold Shower

Pairing: Y/N + Luke

Words: 2,000+

Rating: Smut

(P.S. This is the first time I’ve ever written anything like this. Let me know how I did (:  Also, I wanted to make this longer, but if I don’t post it now, I don’t think I ever will.)

You stared at the door holding the hotel key card in your sweaty hand. You were meant to be sharing a room with Ashton, as you’d drawn his name from the impromptu ice bucket the night before, but he’d sent you a text warning that he’d be having another guest for the night. You knew pretty much everything there was to know about Ashton Irwin, but the idea of him having sex definitely made you feel nauseous and made you rethink your sleeping arrangements. 

Luckily at check in you’d grabbed an extra key card to one of the other boy’s rooms. They of course offered you, your own room seeing as for the moment you were living off minimum wage, but you couldn’t let them pay for you and you liked the idea that every night was a sleepover with one of your best friends. However, there was a question as to whose door the key opened. Already having tried Calum’s room followed by Michael’s there was only one room left.

Taking the card you swiped and a green light flashed. Surprised you took too long and had to swipe again. Turning the handle, you were enveloped in darkness.  You crept into the room cautiously waiting for your eyes to adjust.

Suddenly you were on your but and a squeal escaped your lips. Looking around for the perpetrator, your eyes landed on one of Luke’s black converse. You picked it up and hurled it, paying no attention to where it landed. Satisfied by the thunk, you silently thanked the gods that Luke slept like the dead, or you seriously hoped he was asleep or you’d never hear the end of it. 

Your eyes adjusted enough for you to make out Luke’s suitcase. You and the guys had this understanding that you were entitled to their clothes whenever the need arose. You definitely were not going to bed in the wine stained dress you’d worn for a night of drinking and escapades with your girlfriends, so you propped open Luke’s suitcase and pulled out the first shirt.

Unzipping the dress and letting it fall to the floor, you slipped the shirt over your head and whipped off your bra. With such freedom you didn’t realize said shirt was one of Luke tanks and with the low sides your breasts were clearly visible. You seemed to suffer from the same messy gene as Luke as instead of folding your things neatly into a pile, everything was left exactly where it fell. The last thing you needed to do before collapsing into bed with exhaustion, was take off the heavy going out makeup.

Coming out of the bathroom with a damp but clean face you were finally ready for sleep. For the first time since you entered the room you looked at Luke. The white sheet covered his waist but is pale back was bare and you could just make out the definition of his shoulders. His skin definitely missed the sun of Australian summers. You were so close with the boys that you’d seen them shirtless more than you could count and naked more times than you’d like to admit, but rarely had you the time to pay much attention.

You guessed they were attractive with the number of girls following them wherever they went and until recently they were nothing more than brothers to you.  That was before the drunken night that had led Luke’s lips to yours and your shirt found the floor. The night that could have fine farther had it not been interrupted by a drunk Michael pounding on the bathroom door, shouting that he needed to take a piss.

That’s why standing outside Luke’s door you’d hesitated. You didn’t know if you were silently hoping for the key to belong to him or belong to anyone but him. Now, here you were and you were not going to allow things to be any different. You were not going to ruin yours and Luke’s friendship and risk the entire group dynamic.

You shook your head trying to clear your thoughts of what the white hotel sheet hid and slipped under the covers of the side unoccupied by Luke. Your body was alive but wearily you were too scared to fall asleep. An hour after tossing and turning you finally drifted into a restless sleep.

Luke woke with a start. He came to the uncomfortable realization that he was unbearably hard and with that came the realization that he was not alone. He opened one eye and saw the mess of your hair spread out across the pillow but more surprisingly felt your body pressed against the length of his. If you weren’t one of his best friends he might even suggest that what you two were doing was actually called spooning. Realizing his hardness had something to do with your presence he leapt out of the bed, kicking you in the process.

It was your turn to wake up with a start.

“Luke, what the hell?” He blushed but didn’t say anything. You noticed that he was holding the hotel sheets firmly in his hands and in response raised an eyebrow. You were not innocent or naive and you could hazard a guess what was going on behind the sheet. Your ‘don’t ruin the friendship’ mentality was going out the window faster than your heart was beating.

Suddenly, Luke’s bare bum cheeks greeted you as he walked away from the bed and into the bathroom. Now you were blushing. You were under the assumption that Luke at least wore boxers to bed. 

This was the moment that would change everything. If you and Luke were going to remain friends, you would let him deal with his issue privately in the bathroom and then act like nothing happened. But you were tired of just being his friend. You’d been skirting around each other for months and it had escalated to this all or nothing moment.

Standing up from the bed you called out.

“Luke come quickly, there’s a, a, a”, you paused not knowing what would make Luke rush out to you. You knew saying spider would be futile as he was terrified of them and you’d been the designated spider catch and release person for as long as you could remember. Luke did not seem to need a complete reason, as the tone of your voice was enough to send him rushing out of the bathroom.

“What’s the matter?” He said eyes wide with concern.

Your heart fluttered at the idea that his concern for you was enough for him to forget his anger and his nakedness. Your eyes fell to his cock, which was red and pulsating with need. You were stumped and aroused and decided to settle on the truth.

“Luke, I, I need you.”

For a second you were shocked both by your honesty and the need in your voice. He seemed to be in the same position. His eyes raked over your standing form, taking in your mussed hair, and your nipples showing your arousal through the thin cotton of his shirt. Also, the fact that part of your breasts peaked out the sides didn’t go unnoticed.

Luke ran his hand through his bedraggled hair, once flat, now standing on end. He took his bottom lip between his teeth and seemed to be in physical pain.

“I can’t. I want you but I can’t.”

Hearing that Luke wanted you was enough to spur you. Closing the distance between the two of you with five steps, you heard him take a sharp inhale. Looking into his bluer than blue eyes, you pressed your lips against him. He seemed content with only your lips touching, but when your hand slipped between your bodies and brushed against his hard cock, he lost it.

“Jump” he growled.

You did as he said and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked to the bed and dropped you on the mattress. His mouth returned to yours, his hands finding their way to your breasts.

He was kneading them through the fabric and you were losing any notion of common decency. With a cold rush his mouth left yours and started lavishing attention on your right breast. He was making the shirt damp and transparent, the pinkish hues of your nipple showing through.

“As much as I love you stealing my clothes, this needs to come off,” Luke groaned tugging on your shirt. 

Your breasts now bare, he smiled with a look of pure hunger mixed with lust. He turned his ministrations to your other breast, tugging the nipple taut with his teeth. His hand was working the left one pinching the tight bud. Unable to stop yourself, your hips bucked against Luke, looking for any friction.

This brought a halt to Luke’s actions and suddenly you were wishing he would just continue, because you thought the loss of his mouth would break you.

Not to fear, his mouth was not gone for long. He started kissing down your stomach, his fingers moving to your pussy. You had felt a wetness pooling between your thighs since you’d laid eyes on his cock and the teasing was starting to feel unbearable.

“I’m not even close to done.” Luke said implying that he knew exactly what you were thinking. “You don’t even know how many times of pictured this.” His voice was laced with sincerity. “I’m going to ruin you for all other men.” You could have laughed except for the seriousness in his voice and the fact that with one quick movement your underwear was gone and he was running a finger over your slit.

“Please. Do something. Do anything.”

With that Luke slipped a finger inside of you. You couldn’t hold the moan in even if you tried. He started to pump with a steady beat and you could feel something starting to grow in the pit of your stomach. He added another finger and picked up the pace, he took his other hand and started in on your clit. You were done for; you exploded around his fingers, toes curling. His fingers continued pumping through your orgasm and you thought were going to die.

“Oh my god, Luke.” You said as he got off the bed, not believing what had just happened.

“I’m not done. I just realized I have to look for the fucking condoms.” You giggled, he was tearing through his suitcase, completely nude with what looked like one of the most painful erections you had ever seen. It was bright red and the tip leaked with pre-cum. He emptied the suitcase looking for any sign of a condom.

“I am not asking Calum,” you heard him mutter under his breath, making you smile. He went to his other bag and dumped the contents on the floor. He scooped up a couple of packets, holding them like trophies, smiling at you with a look of complete triumph.

He made his was back to you and was about to rip open a packet.

“Not so fast, mister.” You reached out to grasp his silky cock; he shied away from your touch. “You don’t know how much I want you to touch me, but I’m fit to burst and I want to cum inside you, our first time.” As Luke talked his cheeks turned red. “Are you implying this is going to happen more than once?” You smirked. “I said I was going to ruin you for all others, I’m going to be your only option.”

With that the time for talking was over. You grabbed the condom from Luke and slid it over his length. He positioned himself between your legs and brought his lips to yours. With all his strength he breached you slowly, and then you were connected. You moved your hips and he shook his head.

“I just, I just need a second.” He closed his eyes and a look of concentration dressed his face. “I feel like I’m a fucking virgin,” he muttered to far gone for embarrassment. He then withdrew his cock and slammed into you. Your hips rose to meet his thrusts and you found the rhythm as old as time. The sound of your skin slapping together, filled the hotel room. You raked your nails over his back, hoping to leave marks and show the world that he was yours. You felt the rise again. You could tell Luke wasn’t going to last much longer, and you felt his fingers between you. 

“Fuck, Luke. I’m close,” you were breathless. His speed increased and for the second time you reached your high. Luke followed soon after, spilling into the condom and riding out both highs. He paused for a second and then you were empty. You saw him remove the condom and then he was gone to the garbage.

“Well?” You called out after him. He was slipping back into bed and pulled you close to him. “That was definitely better than a cold shower.”


Telegrams and Lemongrass

Summary: A telegram for Korra makes the Airbending family’s dinnertime slightly chaotic. 
Rating: K
Words: 1700

“Lost footage” scene fitting in between A Leaf in the Wind and The Revelation. Because it’s pulled from a larger piece of writing, it kind of lacks a direction but… maybe you’ll like it anyway. First draft–forgive my errors. Kudos to lariren-shadow for putting up with my long IM’s.


It wasn’t until after Ikki had finished the dinner blessing that Korra’s eye caught the yellow of the envelope. Her hand suspended over her chopsticks, she moved her fingers to sliding it over the edge of the table for an easy pick up.

 “What’s this?”

“A telegram, apparently,“ Pema offered, not in the least distracted by ladling hot broth into Meelo’s soup bowl.

Not much of a revelation. Ah, well–no better way to find out than by opening it. Korra had a hunch who it was from, though. Her fingers made quick work of tearing the seals and unfolding the slightly-smudged ink.

Practice. 6 AM gym. Bring bkfast & brain. -Mako

She was right. And it didn’t help bring down her fury at the apparent return of his attitude. She could practically feel the temperature in her face competing with the heat of steam coming off her dinner. ’& brain?’ After saving his decidedly kicked butt from disqualification, ’& brain?!’ She turned violently against the offending paper.

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chlorinatedmochi  asked:

Ooh Kagehina prompt! Hinata has really bad poison ivy on his arm (or leg or something, you can pick ^^) and Kageyama has to constantly nag him to not itch throughout practice. (This is probably super lame but I currently have poison ivy all over my feet and my mom keeps yelling at me not to itch it).

Sorry this took so long!  I’m not entirely sure I like this, but I’m uploading it anyway hehe.  Here is the boys going camping.

They did not really knew who decided it would be a good idea for the Karasuno team to take a camping trip in the wilderness.  Daichi had been considering doing something for ‘team bonding’ and at some point they decided traveling into the mountains, miles away from any civilization and reliable cell phone service, would be a fun team experience.

They were probably convinced by Hinata’s exuberance.  The redhead was pretty hard to say no to when he got excited about something, with his big shining eyes and bouncing enthusiasm.   Somehow, they found themselves alone in the forest with just Coach Ukai as their chaperone.

No one was less excited about this then Kageyama Tobio, aside from maybe Tsukishima, but he was never positive about anything.  Kageyama had almost excused himself from the excursion, if he were only able to ignore Hinata’s pouting face.  That, and the sharp look Daichi shot him when he mentioned not going.  The captain had at least promised they would spend some of their trip practicing volleyball, so he’d sucked it up and gone along.

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