I was going to have these on the blog but I ran out of available space

My Best Friend’s Wedding Part Five

Originally posted by stuckybarnesrogers

PART FOUR: http://imaginingbucky.tumblr.com/post/154522794564/my-best-friends-wedding-part-four 

You were twelve years old when you got your first kiss. All of your friends had gotten kissed already making you the last one in the group who hadn’t. It stressed you out a lot more than it should’ve at your age. You wanted your first kiss to be special and magical like it was written about in all those sappy teen magazines. 

Since your first kiss, you had gotten kissed more and by different types of guys. There were the typical sweet kisses, the sloppy ones that made you feel nauseous just thinking about it and countless others. 

Bucky’s kiss was….. different. His lips were soft and the kiss itself was passionate without being sloppy. You were surprised at how much you enjoyed it. It didn’t seem forced or awkward. It was like the two of you had kissed thousands of times before. 

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Prompt: This story is still based on a chat room conversation and can be seen here

Warnings: Still angst man. Some pseudoscience where I pretend to know what I’m talking about after some google research.

Pairing: Bones/Reader (predetermined)

A/N: one more after this. Then it all comes to an end. Catch up on this series if you haven’t! PART 1 PART 2

Word Count: 1627

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pulling on your heart to push my luck - a riarkle one shot

A/N: this doubles as a snowbrinasecretsanta gift for the wonderful @thewritingfreak19! happy holidays, love! ♥ it was already posted on @snowbrina‘s blog but i figured i’d do another post here lol this is a missing scene fic: remember that time farkle said he’d take riley to a concert? yeah, i wrote it :)

(read on ao3)

“What even is this concert, Farkle?” Riley asked, pulling her coat tighter around her torso as they walked down East 11th Street. It had been warm earlier that day, the first signs of spring popping up around the city, but the evening wind shaking the trees lining the street sent a chill down Riley’s spine.

“Well, you see, I don’t exactly know,” Farkle replied, biting his bottom lip. Riley stopped in the center of the sidewalk, causing a few people to bump into her back. She turned to look at the boy beside her, an incredulous expression on her face.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t exactly know?’” Farkle didn’t reply, instead choosing to stare at the trash bags on the ground. “Farkle?!”

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Christmas Tree and Family Fun - Fred Weasley Imagine (requested)

Request: Hi! I love your blog sooooooo much! It would mean the world to me if I could get an imagine involving the reader, Eleanor, and Fred where it’s around Christmas time and the two of them are setting up the Christmas tree with their kids and just a lot of fluff and cuteness!! Please and thank you!! Btw I have green eyes and curly blonde hair!(:


A kaleidoscope of blistering snowflakes swirled graciously in the arctic wind, coating the whole city of London in a powdery blanket. Though this had no effect on the determined shoppers lining the streets with handfuls of bags rushing in and out of shops.

Christmas was by the far the busiest holiday in of all England, which meant all of London had their hands full doing something festive. This being the exact case in the Weasley home. The home of Fred and Eleanor Weasley that is.

The couple had moved to the city a year after the war and despite not living with magic they were as happy as ever. Now thirteen years later weekly visits were taken out of the family’s busy schedule to go spend time with the other half of the long line of Weasley’s. Fred of course still worked with George but things had changed a bit with their business. Fred relocated a non-magic joke shop in the dead center of the city, while George was in charge of the Diagon Alley one. Business was booming and things seemed to finally be working in favor for the twins.

Jogging giddily up the front steps of their spacious townhome and wide smile imprinted on his face. If it wasn’t for the beautiful gift waiting for him at home and for the package tucked safely under his arm, the frostbitten weather would’ve had a major impact on his mood.

Reaching the top of the icy steps, Fred quickly searched his hand around his back pocket and eagerly snatched his house keys out. Jamming the rigid metal sliver key into the slot as his knees shook from the coldness, Fred impatiently shoved the front door open and hurried inside, keen to escape the harsh gusty wind slapped his red cheeks. The heavy door slammed shut behind his body. Fred began peeling the many layers off himself, already able to smell the sweet aroma of gingerbread and mint dancing around his nose.

Barley a moment of pure silence had passed before a gentle voice shouted from the upper level of the three story home.

“Sweetheart, good you’re home! Could you give me a hand up here?” Throwing his jacket in the general vicinity of the coat rack and setting the brown papered package on the vintage bench to the right of the door, Fred ran up the wide staircase. Guiding his hand along the railing, Fred gazed around the loft in search for his wife Eleanor.

“Ellie? Where are you?” A loud bang followed his question. Scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion, Fred trailed the source of the noise only to find the attic stairs pulled down.

Gazing up the old steps Fred could see shadows passing about and shook his head chuckling lightly.

“Darling, what are you guys doing up there?” He inquired running his hand through his chilled locks. A muffled giggle sounded from the brightly lit attic as footsteps neared the opening. Eleanor appeared from above Fred, crouching down so she was leaning over the edge.

“Hello Freddie, how was work?” Her voice hid a sense of teasing but in the same way she was half serious. Fred tilted his head and narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Work was nice, love. Thank you for asking. How was your day? And where are my sweet little monkeys at?” Eleanor rested her pointer finger on her china and diverting her eyes to the ground acting as if she was lost in thought.

“Mmhh… monkeys you say? Well I don’t see any monkeys around here but maybe you could come up here and help me carry our Christmas tree downstairs, huh?” Her soft smile melted Fred from the inside out. Nodding solemnly, he started climbing the steps up to the main section of the storage space. Standing to his feet Fred was practically knock back down to the floor below him as a pair of little arms wrapped themselves around his legs. Capturing his arms around the source of impact, Fred laughed loudly.

“Daddy! You’re home! Are you going to help us decorate?” The little girl was practically oozing full of energy and bouncing up and down with every step she took, no doubt the daughter of a Weasley. Fred ran his hand along the small girls hair, patting her wild curls down lightly though it was to no avail, not that he minded a single bit.

Alice had inherited her mother’s locks and her father’s personality. So to say it was the exact opposite when it came to her twin brother, Jack. Jack was more reserved but held the same high energy level as his sister. Both of the children had a head full of fiery red hair courtesy of their father and green eyes gained from Eleanor’s side.

“Of course I am! Now, I see one little monkey but where is my other one?” Jack usually wasn’t one to miss out on the annual decorating of the tree so when Fred couldn’t catch sight of his son, concern washed over him. That was until a small voice called out.

“I’m down here daddy! Mommy put me in charge of putting the sprinkles on the cookies!” Jack shouted from, what Fred assumed, was the first floor. Eleanor grinned over at her husband,

“Fred, it would mean the world to me if you could help me with this, because believe me it’s not getting any lighter!” Alice unraveled her little arms from her father’s body and skipped over to the cardboard box labeled “X-MAS” in big bold letters. Rushing over to Eleanor, Fred aided her greatly by helping her maneuver the tree down the creaking stairs and lightly laying it down on the floor. Eleanor let out a sigh of relief and pointed back to the attic.

“Okay, I got it from here. Do you mind helping Alice? Something tells me her lifting a box twice her size is not gonna end too well.” Fred leaned forward placing a quick peck on her rosy cheek and darted back up the steps grabbing the large box his daughter was struggling with immensely.

“Here sweetie, I’ve got this. Now why don’t you go on down stairs and help mommy with the tree?” It didn’t take much more than that to send Alice sprinting down the steps. Snatching the boxes of ornaments and fairy lights, Fred ventured back down to the main level of the home and made his way to the living room where Eleanor had already set up the artificial forest green tree in front of the massive window that over looked the city.

Jack ran out of the kitchen engulfing Fred in a bone crushing hug. Fred didn’t even have a chance to respond before Jack released his grip and darted for the holiday box, pulling out ornaments excited to start.

“Wow slow down there tiger! If you move at this pace, there will be nothing left for the rest of us to put up!” Eleanor pointed out opening up the rest of the boxes and allowing room for the kids to begin their favorite part of the process.

Alice and Jack both started in on placing the cute homemade and store bought pendants all along the branches of the tree singing little jingles as they did so, every once in a while needing their father’s assistance in placing things on the higher scale of the tree. Fred wrapped his arm around Eleanor’s shoulder pulling her snug against his side. A soft hum sounded from her as she rested her hand of Fred’s chest grinning from ear to ear at the sight in front of her.

“Mommy, daddy… look at this decoration! Don’t you remember this one! I made this for you last year!” Alice shouted cheerfully wiggling the handprint ornament she had made at school the year before as a Christmas gift to her parents. Eleanor nodded fondly and cooed to her ten year old daughter,

“Of course I do, darling! It’s one of my favorites, along with your brother’s one too!” Alice’s cheeks turned crimson in color as she danced back to the tree hanging it directly in the middle right next to her brother’s.

A loud beeping noise echoed throughout the home in an annoying fashion. Eleanor jumped at the sound and rushed into the kitchen shouting about the second batch of cookies she was preparing. The kids giggled loudly but continued on with their decorating. Suddenly remembering the gift he had brought home from work.

“Kids wait here! I’ve got a surprise for the both of you.” The twin’s eyes lit up even more than before if that was even possible. Fred hurried to the entry of the house and picked up the package he had discarded the moment he entered the home and brought it over to the twins. Handing it to Jack, Eleanor reentered the candle lit room and stood in the door way watching her family with a doe like gaze.

Alice peered over her brother’s shoulder gleefully awaiting for him to tear through the package which he did soon enough. Throwing the wrapping paper on the floor both of the children glanced back to their father, matching confusion evident of both of their faces. Alice looked more than disappointed as she turned back to the tree, hanging more objects as she went.

“Well… that wasn’t the exact reaction I was hoping for…” Fred reasoned awkwardly. Eleanor rubbed his back comfortingly shooting her kids a strong look. Jack shrugged still not fully understanding what the gift meant. Alice was completely uninterested and continued dressing the tree.
“Kids… do you know what that is?” Jack shrugged flipping the book back and forth in his hands. Fred chuckled, sitting down on the armchair facing his son and resting his elbows on his knee.

“That my little monkeys, is called a spell book. It had occurred to me that you two are growing older and older by the second and next year you’re going to be eleven which means you’ll be old enough to qualify for a certain school of magic. I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you two won’t be accepted so I reckon you two will be in need of a trip to Ollivander’s. Your uncle George and I will be taking you two there next week to find you monkeys a wand of your own!” No price could be payed to describe the look on the children’s face as Fred gave the news.

 Alice was the first to respond as she darted over to her father and threw herself around him. Jack followed closely behind cheeringly loudly about becoming a wizard. Eleanor set the fresh batch of cookies on the coffee table and watched the scene before her with a kind smile.

Not long later after all settled down, the two energetic kids were passed out on the couch in between their parents snoring quietly. Fred had his arm wrapped around the back of the couch skimming his wife’s shoulder. Eleanor yawned faintly turning her attention to the bright glistening Christmas tree sparkling in the clear window for all who passed by to see.

“Tired, love?” Fred inquired reaching across their children to lace his hand together with hers. Ellie shrugged and gave his hand a light squeeze.

“Just a bit, it was an eventful day y’know. That was extremely gracious of you and George to be taking them to Ollivander’s. They’re going to have a parade when they get their wands. You’re too sweet to them.”
“I only want what’s best for them and you as well. I called that massage place by the bookshop and got you in for an all-day appointment while I’m away with the kids. You deserve a day to yourself, darling. I figured this would be the best way possible for you to spend it. You mean more to me than this entire world, I love you more than anything Eleanor.” Tears clouded Eleanor’s judgement at his words as she leant her head back into the couch.

“I take that back you’re too sweet to all of us. Every day you provide me with more and more ways and reasons to fall even deeper in love with you and I couldn’t have asked for more. I love you too, Fred. Thank you so much for all of this.”

-Daizy xx

stagdoewolfdog  asked:

Hey! So I saw this on this on the otpPrompts blog, and I can TOTALLY see Felicity saying this! "Imagine your OTP gets trapped in a very close-quarters place, causing them to be pressed fairly close together, and Person A says, “I swear this is the beginning to every smutty fan-fiction ever.” ;D LOVE your writing!!! hope you're having a gorgeous day! <3

ficstalkers: arrows-and-fairytales, olicitykisses, smoakinamell, dumplingnooona, justanother90sbaby, flash-smoak-and-arrows, redpendreaming, lieutenantsmoak, amellthirst, snowssmoak, dimitrijbelikov

non-established olicity, set in the summer between season 2 and 3, definitely not canon-complacent. This had me in giggles the entire time I wrote it :)

Sweeter Than FanFiction

This wasn’t how she was supposed to be spending her afternoon. She should have been getting ready for her date tonight, not be stuck in an elevator with her former –and future if everything went according to plan—boss. But here she was, thirty minutes after she was supposed to meet poor Daniel, sitting on the marble floor of the tiny space with her ankles crossed. OH and did she mention she had no cell service and no LTE or Wi-Fi? Cause she didn’t, and it was awful. Not that being stuck in a small space with Oliver was necessarily a problem, the circumstances and the timing were just really terrible.

She could swear this was the beginning to every smutty fan-fiction ever. Oliver stopped in his tracks. He’d been pacing back and forth the tiny space for at least an hour now, much to Felicity’s annoyance. He looked at her, eyebrows knitting together.

“What?” He said in that oh so familiar tone, just like he had the first time they met when she had started babbling about Hamlet. Felicity suppressed the smile that the memory brought in favor of blushing a bright shade of red as she realized her mouth had ran away with her again, and she had spoken out loud.

“Oh…uhm, you know…” How the hell was she supposed to explain this to him? And in a way that he wouldn’t think she was going crazy. What he did next surprised her. He sat down next to her, hand folded in his lap and he looked at her.

“Enlighten me?” He asked and Felicity could see the sincerity in his eyes. He was as fed up with the situation as she was but instead of lashing out, he was trying to make the best of it. She could really appreciate the effort even if she was probably going to embarrass herself even more in the next few minutes. Felicity let out a huff of air and turned to look at him.

“Okay, well, you know how there are people who are really into TV-shows or movies or books, or all three, or even bands or theatre or whatever, really?”

Oliver nodded. She was amazed at how interested he seemed.

“They often write stories about the characters they love. Fan written fiction.”

“Isn’t that stealing? With like copyright laws or something?”

Oh, Oliver, she thought. Trying so hard to be a business man. She smiled a little and shook her head.

“I don’t think anyone has really gotten in trouble for it. After all, all it does is promote the show, movie, book or whatever. You get what I’m saying.”

He pursed his lips and nodded.

“Anyways, smut is fanfiction of the sexy variation.”

Oliver’s lips parted and then closed again. She could swear she saw his pupils dilate ever so slightly before he blinked, the blue of his eyes a little darker when he looked at her again. He narrowed his eyes a little as he nodded. She didn’t need to explain what exactly happened in those stories. Not that she wouldn’t have blushed and stumbled her way through an explanation if he had asked for it. Felicity looked at her watch and sighed. It had been almost two hours after the elevator doors had closed and they were still stuck. She wondered what was taking so long. In such a large company as Queen Consolidated, there ought to be a mechanic available. She shook her head a little and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t mind being stuck in an elevator with Oliver when he wasn’t acting like a time-bomb of nerves and agitation.

“Do you write stories like that?” He asked after a moment of silence, surprising her once again.

“What? Me? No, I don’t have the time. I did dabble in some Mulder and Scully from X-Files stuff in college but I didn’t have the talent. Seriously, some of them are better than published novels I’ve read. I have always been better with numbers than letters.” She laughed.

Oliver smiled as the ring of her laughter filled the space.

“I do read them. More often than I’d like to admit, actually. But, with our nightly activities and stuff, it’s becoming really hard to pick up an actual book. There’s enormous databases of fanfiction of all kinds, and it’s free. There’s a ton of terms I won’t bother you with, but it’s kinda great if I have a spare minute of time.”

Felicity was looking down at her hands. She had started twisting her fingers as she was talking, explaining to Oliver all the different genres and alternate universes that she loved, the blush of embarrassment slowly fading from her cheeks. He didn’t laugh at her, as most of her other boyfriends had. Not that Oliver was her boyfriend. But he was something. She wondered for a second what Oliver was really thinking. He probably thought it was childish and silly.

“I don’t think it’s silly at all.” Felicity internally cursed her non-existent brain-to-mouth filter for screwing up again before looking up at him.

Oliver smiled and shrugged, putting a hand on hers where they were lying in her lap. “Do what you love, right?”

She smiled softly and nodded. “Right.”

And that’s when the elevator started moving. The both sighed in relief and Felicity let her head fall to Oliver shoulders. Neither moved until the metal doors slid open and Diggle stepped inside?

“Did you two have a nice afternoon?” He asked, smirk on his face.

Felicity blushed a little, pulling her head off of Oliver’s shoulder and gathering her things. Oliver stood up and reached out a hand to help her off the floor.

“Took you long enough.” Felicity said to Diggle.

“QC’s Stock rate isn’t the only thing around here that isn’t working.” He retorted.

From the corner of her eye, Felicity saw Oliver’s face fall and instinctively, she put a hand in the crook of his elbow.

“We’ll get the company back.” She said, right before her phone started blowing up with missed phone calls and text messages.

“Crap. Daniel thinks I stood him up.” She cursed as they started walking to where Diggle had parked the car, getting rid of the notifications one by one.

“Daniel?” Oliver asked, his voice a little higher than usual.

Felicity sighed and nodded “I met him at Tech Village. We were supposed to meet for dinner a while ago, but with the whole ‘stuck in an elevator thing’ he now thinks I’m blowing him off.”

She put her phone back in her purse and shook her head. “Well, I guess that means take-out food and Netflix tonight.”

Oliver smiled a little as she scrunched up her nose and pursed her lips. “Not that I really mind, Netflix is probably better company anyways.”

He laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s an idiot.” He watched as a softness washed over her features, the sparkle in her eyes glimmering as she smiled.

“Thanks.” Felicity whispered, blushing a little before sliding into the car as Diggle held open the door for her.

“You’re an idiot too, you know.” Diggle whispered to Oliver when she was out hearing range. He frowned in confusion at Diggle’s words, but he just rolled his eyes in response and walked around the car to get into the driver’s seat. Oliver stood there for a second, contemplating his words before shaking them off and sliding into the car next to Felicity. She was mindlessly thumbing through her e-mails, too preoccupied to notice the confused look on Oliver’s face. Dig started the ignition after Oliver pulled the door shut, and they were on their way home.

About two hours later, Felicity was freshly showered, lounging on her couch in her PJ’s, scrolling through her Netflix watch list. She may have had a little too much wine, but she decided it was a great idea to send Oliver a link to her favorite Mulder/Scully fanfiction ever.

'You didn’t ask for this, but after that whole conversation in the elevator, I feel like you need to read this. X – Felicity’ was the accompanying message.

She threw her phone to the opposite end of the couch after what she had just done had sunk in. She poured herself another glass of wine to toast to her stupidity and picked her favorite Doctor Who episode to watch, Vincent and The Doctor. A few minutes in, right after the Tardis traveled back to 19th century France, her phone chimed.

It couldn’t be Oliver, she thought. She told herself she didn’t need to check her phone, and yet, there she was, sitting on her couch, fiddling with the hem of her Oscar The Grouch t-shirt, anxious to see what his reply was. And she wasn’t even sure it was him, It could be anybody that had her number, really. Statistically, there was a very small chance that Oliver responded to her text within 5 minutes. Wasn’t there a rule about that or something? Like, wait ten minutes before responding to your crush. Not that she thought she was Oliver’s crush or anything. That was such a teenage thing to say anyways. Could that even be applied to them? The Doctor was well on his way to Vincent Van Gogh’s house when she realized her thoughts were babbling. That was a nice side-effect of being alone with nobody to stop you from rambling on into oblivion. Reaching for the remote, she paused the TV and took her phone. Pressing the home button would reveal a new text message. From no one else than Oliver Queen. He clearly didn’t give a damn about not texting back before the ten minutes were up.

'Can’t wait! :) I was meaning to ask you to send me something, thanks. X – Oliver’ The message said. Felicity stared at her phone for several minutes, the warmth reaching her cheeks. Oliver Queen just sent her an smiley face and a kiss.

It took her a long time to fall asleep that night. She was trying hard not to overthink it, but the image of Oliver reading fanfiction kept popping up in her head, with no way to get rid of it. If she was honest, it was kinda hot to think about too.

The next morning, after that restless night of sleep, too many cups of coffee, she was two hours into her early shift at Tech Village. She was just finishing up with a customer when she saw him stroll ever so casually into the little store. She bid the costumer goodbye and leaned over the counter, popping up her elbow to rest her head in her hand.

“Goodmorning. What are you doing up so early? And here in this humble little Tech Village.”

She knew she was being unnecessarily flirty, but it worked. Oliver let out a breathy laugh and shook his head.

“I have it from a reliable source that this is where you meet people these days.” He retorted. Felicity’s eyes widened and she blushed a little as she straightened back up. He sauntered over to the counter, putting his hands on the cold glass.

“Really, Oliver. Why are you here? Did something happen?” She whispered the last part for reasons still unclear to her, but he knew she was talking about their other job. He smiled and shook his head.

“No. I just thought I’d follow Fox Mulder’s example and finally ask the object of my infatuation out on a date before someone else realizes how amazing she is.” He said it so casually she almost missed what he was really saying. Her eyes went wide, her bright red lips parting in astonishment.

“Wait?! You actually read it?!” She grabbed his forearm and smiled.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you got from that sentence?”

She looked dumbstruck, her eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing. “What? I didn’t think you’d actually read it. I guess I’m just kinda surprised.”

“…Felicity.” He cut her off with a hand on her shoulder. “I’m trying to ask you to dinner here.”

Her mouth fell open in a round 'o’. She nodded slowly and started blushing and then smiling, the little flicker of light in her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime, Felicity?” He asked. He was smiling now too.

She nodded. “Yes. I would love to.”

Tilting her head to the side, she chuckled a little. “Took you long enough to ask.”

Oliver sighed and shook his head. And then he was leaning closer over the counter, getting into her personal space like he kind of always did. Not that she minded, it was nice having him close.

“You know… Dig said the same thing, but I-”

She could see his eyes drop to her red lips and before she knew it she was cutting off his words by slanting her mouth over his. It took him a second to realize what was happening but he quickly responded by putting his warm hand on her cheek. She was tugging him closer by his collar when she heard a loud throat-clearing behind her. Stiffening completely, she untangled her fingers from his shirt and pulled away. Her cheeks were flaming red already, her eyes wide and unfocused, irises a shade darker than usual behind her frames. Oliver smirked at her before she turned around to face her mousy, middle-aged boss. For a split second she thought about how her IQ was higher than all of her co-worker’s combined. But this was not the time to dwell on that slightly depressing fact.

Her manager was staring at her through scrutinizing eyes. He had clearly already recognized Oliver, but chose to focus solely on his employee making out with the man.

“Back to work, Miss Smoak.”

“Hmm-hmm.” She hummed, nodding as her cheeks turned even more red. “Yes. Of course.”

The man squinted his eyes and turned around, back to his office. Oliver let out a breathy laugh behind her, hand tugging on her elbow. She turned around, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He smirked at her. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a second before letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“So? Dinner tonight?”

She nodded. “Dinner.”

more fic

How I Sold My Soul In 1,200 Words Or Less

So I wrote this blog a few days ago.

It got kind of popular.

I’m a thinker. Thoughts constantly running through my brain. Sometimes those thoughts come all at once, while more frequently, they come in brief bursts and require me to marinate in them for awhile before following up. Such was the case with #TheBlogThatWentViral–as I’ve lovingly deemed it.

I penned the bulk of this months ago and left it to sit cold and lonely inside a ‘to be edited’ folder. Part of it was because I felt I didn’t have enough inspiration at the time to finish it (shoutout to the five blogs on my desktop right now awaiting their moment of glory in the hot sun), but mostly, like every piece I write, I was afraid how people might respond to what I’d have to say.

Clearly, I had no clue what I was in for.

Over the last several days, I’ve received hundreds of messages from readers with questions, comments, encouragement and criticism. I don’t take a single one of them lightly. Even the cruelest of the bunch.

As you can imagine, part of me wanted to sit down and try to dispel any ugly ideas the post in question may have caused. Instead though, I decided that I should stop and talk about some of the responses I HAVE received so far, and maybe, with your permission, offer an opinion or two.

Response 1.You’re encouraging Christians to have premarital sex.

I’ll admit, in an attempt to try and get my point across, my convictions may have gotten a tad lost in translation. Either that, or you, like many, read the title and ran. (LOL CLICKBAIT PROBLEMS.)

Let me just come right out with it: I believe God made sex. I believe it’s something awesome, I believe it’s something I want to take part in… but I also believe it’s something He created to be enjoyed in the covenant of marriage.

I’ve chosen to wait for marriage because I believe it shows deep love and respect for my husband, but most importantly, I believe it greatly honors the relationship I have with Christ. It makes me no better than anyone. Just aware of a higher purpose and calling.

NOTE: I’m aware not all of you who read/re-posted this blog share this idea, nor do you consider yourselves remotely religious. I can only hold myself accountable for what I believe. I’ve never been good at the whole 'fire and brimstone’ thing. I like grace and people a little too much. If you have a soul, you have a story, and I hope to you, only to be a friend.

My whole point, just in case you missed it, is that I believe sex, when acted upon in its intended way, is a glorious example OF purity, and not the demise of it, as some within the abstinence movement would claim. It’s a selfless adventure and a passionate desire embedded in the life of those who choose to lay down their agenda for the sake of another.

That type of giving isn’t easy. We’re selfish people by genetic contagion, but I honestly think that’s part of why God loves us so much–Him using sexuality as an unconventional tool to possibly help us overcome that.

At the end of the day, my writing voice isn’t going to sound the same as someone else’s, and really, nobody should expect it to. How I see the world spills out through my words and effects those within my sphere of influence. Same with you. Same with James Dobson. Boogity, boogity, boogity. Amen.

Response 2.You don’t have any right to talk about sex because you’ve never had it.”

If it hasn’t already been made painstakingly clear by now, yes, I’m a virgin.

I know, I know. What guy wouldn’t wanna wife this. AmIright?

My views on marriage will change once I finally am married. I’m aware of this, but I refuse to believe they will change for the worse. Mostly because no two couples are the same. What some spouses find hard, others find easy, what few find awkward, others just won’t.

And trust me. I AM awkward. My friends in fact, have deemed me the ultimate QUEEN of awkward. Even so, just because something is awkward, doesn’t make it bad.

(Which could totally be another major discussion on how Christians view sex, but I’ve already touched on that subject enough for this week.)

I get it. I can’t speak to certain situations yet because I haven’t been in them. That’s probably why I don’t touch on them to begin with…

…get what I’m saying?

I have to believe that if Jesus, who lived all 33 years of His life unmarried, can talk about sex, maybe I can too. Perhaps God gives certain people certain abilities to understand certain things because they’re a certain kind of person. The kind who can convey the message in a way, say, their grandmother can’t.

I don’t have to visit the stars to trust an astronomer. I don’t need to have a sexual past to offer a point.

Response 3.You’re not really a Christian because your post didn’t quote scripture.”

I dunno. I kinda hope our lives display our character better than our Twitter does.

::drops mic::

Response 4.I wish I would have read this sooner.”

90% of the messages I’ve received in the last several days have looked exactly like this.

Damaged. Ashamed. Too far gone. “But thanks for the hope! Other people need it!”

No. YOU need it. We all do.

You’re not too far gone. The very fact that you can read these words and be touched by them proves that hope, though it may be on life support, still dwells in you.

There ARE good guys and gals out there. Even if they’re hard to find. Especially if they’re hard to find. Those who won’t run away from you when they see your baggage, but will happily take the opportunity to help you unpack it. We’re all failures. We all need forgiveness.

Look, it’s simple: Purity is available to you. It’s the choice to live life as it was meant to be lived. The idea that you can possibly live for something greater than yourself. It can only be lived out (or not), but it can never be taken away by mortal hands.

Even if you’re a virgin. Even if you’re not. Even if you’re happily married. Even if you threw it away and didn’t care if you did. Even if you were raped. Even if you came close and feel guilty. Even if somebody broke your spirit and stole a piece of your heart you feel you can never get back.

Your worth is greater than your history. You’re lovable because you’re you and because you deserve it.

Healing will be painful, maybe more so than the actual hurt. I know it well, but the funny thing is, purity often looks less like one-time rinse, and more like a continuous garage sale. Ridding yourself of things that aren’t yours to hold on to anymore, as you make room for better things and spaces to breathe.

::blink blink::

Oh hey look, you made it to the end. Congratulations and thanks for reading!

Wanna read more of my semi-heretical thoughts on love/relationships/sex?

Check out these past blogs:

Dear Single Christian Girl” – My open letter to Christian girls struggling with loneliness and waiting. (LOL YOU KNOW DEM FEELS.)

The Good Sex Movement” – Because we as Christians shouldn’t be about no sex, we should be about the right way to do sex.

The Submissive, The Beloved, and My Beef With Christian Grey” – Oh, you know. Just taking on the Fifty Shades Of Grey phenomenon LIKE A BOSS. (Hashtag baes before Christian Grey’s.)

Basketball, Men, And When God Just Isn’t Enough” – What *was* my most viewed blog of 2014 previously… what some guy friends taught me about God not being enough (and how He really should be.)

anonymous asked:

Reaction for Aomine, Murasakibara, Kuroko, Midorima, and Kasamatsu where their s/o asks them to unzip her dress because she's getting frustrated by not being able to, but she doesn't realize how much of a tease she is being. You can choose if it gets dirty or not. Love the blog!! Happy Holidays!

Hey, I’m happy to hear you enjoy my blog, my lovely anon!

Haha, this was fun to write vwv I gave you both dirty and none dirty in the mix ^u^

I hope you like it~!~<3))

“This Goddamn zipper-! Why can’t you just go down?!”

Not even an inch down its path and you were already cursing your dress’s zipper to hell.

You weren’t even sure why you had decided to wear the damned thing! You and Aomine had only gone out to a casual restaurant, anyways! Granted, it was a really pretty and flowy dress, but still! Why did the damned thing have to be so difficult to take off?! Whining and fed up with the zipper that refused to budge, you wandered out of the bathroom to go to your bedroom where he had already slipped into his sleepwear, waiting for you.

“You going to sleep in that, babe?” He snickered, watching as you still struggled with the zipper. “Don’t be a smartass.” You huffed, wandering over to his side of the bed and turning your back to him. “Can you please just help me with this stupid thing? I can’t get it down.” Trailing his sharp oceanic hues up your back slowly, he smirked to himself, chuckling, already getting pretty inappropriate thoughts in mind. “Sure, of course I can help.” He mused as he sat himself up in bed to face your back. Reaching up, he slowly brought your zipper down as you turned your gaze to the floor, your arms having fallen right back down to your sides.  

Humming to himself, he watched as the bare skin of your back exposed itself to him the lower the zipper got, already passing his tongue over his lips. When he finally brought it down to its end at the top of your bum, he leaned up before you could move, slipping the sleeves down your arms. “D-Daiki-!” You whined, blushing in embarrassment now as you tried to push them back up. However, he reached up and grabbed your wrists in one of his hands, the other pulling the dress down to fall at your feet. “Shh, don’t struggle now, babe~ I just might have to punish you if you do~” He murmured against your neck, running his tongue slowly towards your ear from behind, nibbling on it gently. “B-but, Daiki…” You breathed out shakily, shuddering as the cold air hit your bare skin when he pulled you into bed over his lap.

“What’s say we get the rest of these pesky clothes off of you, too, huh? I never did like your bra. Or your panties. Shitty things only get in the way…~”

Murasakibara was patiently waiting for you in bed after having finally gotten out of that suit he hated so much, cozily wrapped up under the covers. He knew it was your cousin’s baby shower and all, but wow did he hate that stupid suit. Well, regardless, he definitely had a lot better luck with it than you did with your dress. You had been stuck in the bathroom for the past half hour, desperately trying to pull it down from your back to no avail. The stupid thing seemed to be caught on something!

“Atsushi…!” You whined in distress, tugging on your zipper harder, the sound of rushing water being heard from the bathroom. You just wanted to take a quick shower before bed, but no, this damn dress had to stay clung to your frame. “Can you please come over here? My dress is killing me!” Blinking at your sounds of distress, the lazy giant reluctantly got out of bed. Really, the only reason he did was because you were involved. Add you to the equation and he could never refuse.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, _______-chin?” He asked, peeking into the bathroom before stepping inside when he saw you were completely dressed. “I can’t get my zipper down…Could you help me?” Nodding his head, he gently turned you around so you were facing the wall and peered at the caught zipper. Reaching up, he carefully tugged it loose before pulling it down to release you from the confines of your dress. Before you could turn around, though, his breath hitched a bit as he ran one of his large hands slowly up your back. The pads of his fingertips slowly traced the lines of your smooth back, having been craving this contact for a while now.

“A-Atsushi…?” You stuttered, blushing now because of the touch as the large male leaned over you, wrapping one of his arms around your waist to pull your back up to his broad chest. “Ne, _______-chin, how about we take a shower together~? I’m tired of waiting for you to come to bed and, you know,” He turned you around, letting your dress fall from your frame before pressing your now bare chest to his own, a lustfully sharp look to his purple hues.

“I miss the way you moan my name~ We’ve never done it in the shower before, either, and I’ve been wanting to see how it would feel~”

Ever since the two of you got home, Kuroko could hear your struggling in the bedroom with that accursed zipper at the back of your dress. He had been waiting outside in the living room to give you your space to change and was patient, but it seemed that you were really going nowhere with this. Being the shy little thing that you were, you were more than just embarrassed to admit that you needed help getting undressed. You were completely against asking at first, but eventually, it just seemed to be inevitable.

“T-Tetsuya…?” You called out, peeking your head out the door. “_______-kun? Are you changed yet?” You shook your head, blushing a bright red. “I-I need help…My zipper won’t g-go down. Could you help me, p-please?” Blinking at this, the sky blue eyed male gained some color to his cheeks, clearing his throat as he nodded his head. “Ah, of course.” He stood from the couch, walking over to the door of your bedroom where you peeked from. “May I come in?” Nodding, you stepped back and allowed him to step inside before turning so he could see the zipper.

“I…I-I’m sorry if I touch you or anything. I’ll be careful.” He muttered, reaching up to pull the zipper down once you gave the okay. However, when skin started to show and the black clasps of your bra came into view, his cheeks grew even brighter, his gaze immediately turning the other way. When he felt the zipper bump and stay put at the end of its path, he turned around so he was facing the door just in case if the dress fell.

“I-I’ll just l-let you finish up h-here- Call me when you’re d-done, _______-kun-”

Midorima stared down at your back in utmost panic and distress as you turned to face the wall in front of you, huffing when you kicked your heels off. He fumbled and shook in place, his hands shaking as well as he slowly reached out to the zipper of your dress only to pull back again. Shit, he was embarrassed. He didn’t know why it was such an issue for him to help you with the damn thing, but it just was! You two hadn’t exactly been intimate together yet, so he hadn’t seen much of your skin at all. The thought of seeing you in just your underwear made his heart pound wildly in his chest even if it wasn’t a sexual request.

“Gosh, my feet are killing me…” You muttered before looking over your shoulder. “You okay, Shintarou? Or is it just really stuck?” He coughed to the side at this, shaking his head in response to your questions. “Ah, n-no-! No…It’s fine. It’s just c-caught on the t-tag, that’s all.” Little liar. Biting his lip, he willed himself to reach out again when you turned to face the wall, smiling to yourself. He was so adorable when he was like this. “Alright, take your time~”

Oh and he did.

He took his time and when he did finally pull it down, he rushed out the door of your bedroom faster than a bolt of lightning.

“J-just call me once y-you’ve changed, _______!”

Sweet little carrot.

Kasamatsu was, by no means of the word, a pervert. No, he was a gentleman, sweet and easy to embarrass. So, when you wandered over to him with the problem of your zipper, his cobalt blue eyes widened considerably, a stream of incoherent mumbling leaving him. He wasn’t sure how to respond, really. He couldn’t just say no to help you, after all. You were his precious girlfriend and he could never say no to you! It just managed to make his cheeks set to a heated boil when you asked him to technically help undress you, was all.

“A-ah, of course I can help, _______-! Just, um…Turn around…” He muttered, watching you as you turned with a little smile on your face, shyly playing with your fingers. “Thank you for h-helping me, Yukio.” You muttered out, too, shy as can be as you felt his hand brush over your back to grip the zipper. “Mhmm, d-don’t mention it-” Poor guy. He was blushing so deep! He couldn’t believe the effect such a simple request had upon him. Oh God, and when your skin started to come into view! Ah, you had such beautiful skin, actually…Even the outlines of your back were perfectly sculpted in his eyes. Quickly gripping onto the top of the dress when the zipper was pulled down, he held it up for you so it wouldn’t fall, bashfully looking to the side.

“C-come on, _______, let’s get you into your pajamas for the night…”

Wrong Number - Ch 3

TITLE: Wrong Number
AUTHOR: nakedchrisevans
GENRE: Romance/humour/erotica
FIC SUMMARY: 21 year old Kat, after breaking up with her boyfriend, had gotten very drunk one night. Drunk and out of her mind, she tried calling Aiden, her best friend but had mistakenly called Tom Hiddleston, the famous actor.
RATING: M (T for now)
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: This is where Aiden comes in! It’s kind of amazing how much time I’m dedicating to this fic. I’ve had a writer’s block so I’m hoping that you guys can give me some feedback, just to get me fired up again. Much love!

chapter 1/chapter 2

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