adjustable fit

4

Made some Muskies iPhone wallpapers 

Don’t ever tell me that marching band isn’t important.

I have had so many problems with public schools putting all the emphasis on athletics. When a school’s budget is cut, they don’t choose to take a little from each program. No. They choose to completely eradicate the arts programs, usually starting with the marching band. If you don’t play sports, you’re not a valuable asset, you’re not qualified for scholarships, and you mean nothing. Marching band? Why would we be impressed that you’re in marching band?

Anyone can do that.

Okay, fine. Anyone can do marching band. Anyone can spend hours on the field doing the same forty-second section over and over and over and over. Anyone can hit over 75 precise dots on the field with the correct step sizes, the correct amount of steps, the correct timing, without being so much as an inch to either side, in order and without looking at the yard line markers or the field. Anyone can memorize all of those extremely specific points on the grass and varying counts for steps and then execute them with a shako visor pulled down over your eyes and looking up at the press box the whole time. If you look down at the yard line markers to see where you are, congratulations, you just lost points for the group.

Anyone can memorize eight pages of notes, rhythms, dynamics, phrasing, and tempos. (But of course, before you do that you have to learn an instrument with hundreds of different fingerings and learn how to make slight changes in your lips to change notes and stay in tune.) Memorize all seven and a half minutes of music and then marry it to the seventy-five pages of drill you memorized. Do them both perfectly and at the same time. But you can’t just do what you memorized. You have to do it in perfect sync with everyone around you and know how to make the slightest adjustments to fit perfectly within the group. If you’re an inch to the right or barely a thousandth of a step sharp, it’ll throw everything off.

But anyone can do that.

Then add in the fact that you don’t get any individual credit for doing this. The closest you’ll come to recognition is your identity lumped into “The Such-and-Such Marching Band” as you all march onto the field looking exactly the same. You don’t have a number on your back. You have a uniform intended to erase you and turn you into dot T14 and nothing more.

But, for some reason you can’t explain, you love it. You love throwing everything you have into this ridiculously precise pursuit and then not getting any credit for it. You start thanking people when they call you a band geek. You start taping pictures of marching bands into your locker. You start wearing your band shirt everywhere you go. Because you look at the person in an identical uniform next to you and you know that you’ve done this for them and they’ve done this for you. This is more than just a team, this is a family; and if one person is missing from the form, the show can’t ever be the same. 

It costs so much money, so much time. You’re out there on the field in the blazing sun for fourteen hours a day during summer band camp, out in the street getting frostbite on your fingertips during the holiday parade. If anyone knew what you went through for this, they would wonder what made it all worth it.

And the truth is, what makes it all worth it cannot be described. It’s the camaraderie between you and the center snare, the colorguard newbie, the tenor sax player in the set in front of you. It’s the sunset behind you lighting up the back of your plume. It’s the hazy nostalgia that racks your chest with emotion. There’s something about the family you’ve chosen and the experience you’ve internalized that gives you the passion to throw everything down onto that field like nothing else matters in the world… because in that moment, it’s true. 

Your nerves are damaged from the cold. Your skin is damaged from the sun. Your joints are damaged from marching and marching and marching. You’re physically and mentally drained, your body is irreversibly compromised, you’re broke as hell, and all you have to show for it is a polyester jacket and a couple of blurry photographs.

But sports are what require hard work and dedication, not marching band.

Even though you complained basically the entire time you marched and even though you’re done with it, you pull out those photographs and you remember. You remember your first day of high school band camp when you had absolutely no idea what you were getting yourself into. You remember your first final retreat when they announced your band’s name as state champions, and you wanted to cry with happiness but you weren’t allowed to move, so you just clenched your fists so tight that your fingernails dug white crescents into your palms. You remember coming back the next year and thinking you knew everything as a sophomore, only to realize there was still so much to learn. You remember the band trips you spent months fundraising for, all the lame tourist attractions you visited between performances, and how you wouldn’t trade those memories for all the money in the world. You remember being a junior and getting nervous because people looked up to you now: as an upperclassman, as a section leader, as a friend. And then you were a senior and you cried on the final day of band camp. You remember how your life became a series of lasts. You had to decide which of the freshmen would inherit your band cubby, your lucky bottle of valve oil, your bus seat. You went to graduation but it didn’t mean anything because you still had one last band trip coming up. You didn’t shed a tear when you tossed your cap but you cried like a child after your last parade. You remember on the plane ride home, you expected to feel devastated and heartbroken, but you just felt… empty.

You remember printing out what seemed like the most difficult solo in the world. You remember driving up to your college and entering a room with a chair and a stand and a couple of people giving you skeptical looks. You remember getting an email from the college marching band with your audition results and reading it with tears of joy in your eyes because you realized it was starting all over again.

But marching band doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter.

Tell me that it doesn’t matter. Tell me as many times as you want. You could scream it in my face and I still wouldn’t hear because the music we’re making is too damn loud to let anything else in. 

Tell me that it doesn’t matter when I’m standing on the field for the last time, knowing that everything behind me will last forever and that nothing will ever mean more to me than this… and all you’ve got is some money and a jersey with a number on the back.

Do not ever tell me that marching band isn’t important. It is everything to me, and it is everything to millions of other band geeks across the world.

When you refuse to support kids because they participate in the arts rather than athletics, you’re no better than the football player who takes lunch money from nerds.

To all of my fellow band geeks… keep marching, even if the world tells you it’s not worth it. It is. God, it is worth it, in ways no one else but you will ever understand. Continue your band career in college. Audition for a drum corps. Stay active in your high school band as an alumnus supporter. You are all my family. 

9

here are a few lockscreen versions of some of my art!

a like or reblog if using would be appreciated! please credit and dont repost!

Halloween

Summary: Nat and Wanda trick you into going to a Halloween party at the Stark Tower.

Warnings: smut- oral (receiving), penetration; fluff

A/N: Wrote this to get out of my writer’s block. I hope you like it!


“Fuck!” Nat yanked the strings tighter and you gasped for air. “I know I wanted to wear a corset for Halloween but-”

“Authentication is the key.” She helped you straighten. “And look at how great your breasts look.” 

“They do look pretty great.” You admired yourself in the mirror, running your hands down your torso and enjoying the feeling of the leather under your fingertips. “So…are you finally going to tell me who’s going to be at this party?”

“Nope, it’s a secret.” Nat chuckled as she adjusted her hair and makeup. “Don’t worry, you’re going to have fun.”

“You’re in for some serious hell if you’re lying to me.” You pointed at her and slipped into your leggings. “Why do I have to be a sexy cat? Why can’t I be like Victorian royalty?” 

“Because last time you were drunk you let it slip that you’ve always wanted to dress up as one.” Wanda slipped into the room grinning. “I told Nat and she helped me get the costume, now let’s go.” 

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"Cease, Bad Habit!" Spell

A spell I have created to help me stop picking my face; but it can be slightly adjusted to fit any bad habit!

Items needed:

- A Shower
- A Pitcher
- A Pot
- Water
- Heat
- Rosemary: Cleansing and Healing
- Calendula: Strength and Willpower of the Sun
- Amethyst: Sobriety/Control of one’s actions

The Ritual:

Place your amethyst in the bottom of your pot. Wash it over with the water.

Ponder upon your bad habit. Think of how hard you try to quit, the negative effects it has on you, and how much you want to stop. And hold that thought.

Place your hands over the pot of water. Acknowledge the supportive energies of your Amethyst crystal. Focus intently on the want to stop. Let it fill you. Then, turn WANT into WILL. Fill your water with your feelings and energies of determination, hope, and confidence. Sprinkle in a little self-love, too!

Once you have adequately charged your water, remove the amethyst crystal and place over heat.

Add a handful each of Rosemary and Calendula. Express to the herbs why you are using them and thank them for magickally supporting you in your struggle. Bring to a boil. Let sit for 10 minutes.

(The next steps are specific to me; my bad habit relates to skin-picking.)

Once cooled, strain out the herbs and pour the potion into a pitcher and hop into the shower. Let the warm water soothe and cleanse you; when you are ready, close your eyes and pour the potion over your head. Let it run down your body and cleanse you of your habitual leech.

Don’t give up hope! Together, we can kick our habits together! ✨

anonymous asked:

Just stay with me: marichat?

Marinette huddled under her blanket, her hands clutched around a mug of steaming tea to help fight off the cold. 

She didn’t want to go inside. 

She had thought she had seen the worst of it. She had faced down so many akumas. She had fought against her best friend with barely a flinch of hesitation, knowing that she could do what needed to be done and that everything would be alright. She thought there was nothing she couldn’t handle. 

She had never thought she might have to fight her own mother. 

Marinette huddled further into the corner of her terrace. 

They had been victorious of course. Cleansing the akuma and restoring the city to rights. But while the superficial damage may have been repaired, the emotional damage was taking a toll that Marinette had never realized was possible until it struck at the heart of her own family. 

The attack last night had been all over the news. They always were. The first time the footage aired that morning Marinette had watched in horror as her usually indomitable mother had burst into tear, shutting herself in the bedroom and leaving a silent Tom and Marinette to finish the morning preparation. The normally bustling bakery had been a ghost town, and even though Marinette was off from school her father had told her there was little she could help with and to go enjoy her day off since there wasn’t much to be done.

Alya had insisted that this was normal and would die down in a day or two, sending Marinette several links to articles and interviews she had done on the subject. It didn’t do much to lift Marinette’s spirits, but she couldn’t help but feel an awed sense of pride at the incredible dedication her friend had towards her site.  

Sabine had of course eventually recovered after a few hours. Coming down and joining Tom in the empty shop, but in spite of her attempts to act as though everything was fine, the general atmosphere was sullen. Tom had ultimately retreated to the kitchen to take his frustrations out on a new bread recipe he had wanted to try, and Marinette had retreated to her balcony. 

She felt like a failure. 

She kept seeing the image of her mother- twisted and transformed into one of Hawkmoths minions, glaring at her lunging forward to rob her of her Miraculous. 

It had been by far one of her worst fights. Her mind had been unable to focus, instead racing with questions and wondering if she could have stopped this. 

Thank God for Chat. He had immediately registered her distress and more than picked up the slack, taking the lead for a change. He had forsaken his habitual good humored flirting and managed the battle with a quiet, efficient intensity that she would not have expected from her usually exuberant partner.

It had been over in a matter of minutes, one of their shorter battles if she was being honest. But it had somehow felt like an eternity, and she had barely been able to get through the traditional fist bump before fleeing the scene so that no one would see her burst into tears. 

Now here she was, huddled helplessly against the wind, her face stained with tears that had been falling on and off for the last few hours, ashamed to go inside. 

She heard the sound of footfalls on the roof and looked up expecting to see her father. Instead she was met with the concerned green eyes of her partner. 

“Chat… what are you doing here?” she asked fighting the urge to attempt to straighten up her appearance. 

“I like to check up on the victims after the attacks,” he said collapsing his baton and stowing it behind his back. 

“I wasn’t the victim.” 

“I know. I already spoke to your mother down in the bakery.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, surprised, “How…” she trailed off. 

“She’ll be ok,” Chat said coming to sit down beside her. “She was blaming herself for something she had no control over.” He gave Marinette an assessing glance. “Seems to be a trait with the Cheng women I see.” 

She laughed softly then scooted closer and dropped her head against his shoulder. Too tired and too heartsick to care that she was untransformed and therefore shouldn’t be showing this level of familiarity.

Chat’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but he made no effort to stop her, only adjusting slightly so they fit together in a more comfortable angle. 

“I didn’t know you did this,” she said quietly. 

“Did what?”

“Visited with the victims. It’s very kind of you.” 

“No one should have to go through something like this alone,” he said, “pain is worse if you don’t talk to anyone about it. It can change you, leave you broken. Even hurt the people around you.” 

“You sound like you have some experience on the subject.” 

“I might.” 

She nodded slightly and took a small sip of her tea. “Do you talk to all of the victims?” she asked curiously. 

“No, not all of them. Some of them don’t need it, I’ll go to check in on them and they will already be on the road to recovery. Your friend Alya for example. She had her own ways of coping.” 

“You should have talked to her anyways. You know she would have adored getting a personal visit from Chat Noir.”

“You know in retrospect you are right,” he said with a small smile. “Next time I’m on patrol I’ll make a point of letting her catch me for an interview. Unless you want to make my life easier and just help with a set up?” 

“She’s coming over for a sleepover tomorrow night,” Marinette said feeling warmer for the first time all day.

“I’ll be sure to coincidentally land on your balcony during my rounds. Say around 9:00?” 

Marinette smiled. 

“So, who was the most difficult person for you to talk to?” she asked. 

Chat thought for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“Probably the little girl, the one who stole all your dolls, remember?” 

“You talked to Manon?” 

“Yeah, that one was rough. Not gonna lie I went home that night and put together a Hawkmoth dart board. Might have gotten a little carried away. Even stabbed the thing with a fencing sword if you can believe it.” 

Marinette laughed, pressing closer against her partner and he wrapped an arm around her. 

“That’s actually kind of fantastic,” she said, “Do you still have it?” 

“Nah, my father made me take it down. I think it freaked him out that I was violently lashing out what most of Paris thinks of as some unknown mystical super being.” 

“What do you think of him as?” 

“Exactly what he is- some guy in a suit who thinks its ok to terrorize innocent people for his own selfish gain. He might have powers but he’s just an ordinary man.” 

“Like you are?” she said, looking up at him and for the first time desperately wishing she could know the boy behind the mask. 

“Exactly.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Marinette sipping on her tea without really tasting it and Chat rubbing his hand idly up and down her arm over the blanket. 

“Why did you come to talk to me?” Marinette asked at last. 

“Because you looked like you needed a friend,” he replied. 

“I do,” she admitted, hating the pricking of tears she could feel returning to her eyes, “I really do.” 

“Is there anything I can do for you princess?” he asked tenderly, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her in close. 

“Just stay with me.” 


Look I did angst!!!! Part of my 4 word prompt drabbles. Not taking on new ones atm just finishing the ones I have. 

Maybe instead of casting a new Logan, perhaps Fox should start looking at continuing X-23′s journey into taking over her father’s mantel, or casting an adult Laura who is struggling to adjust and fit into his title, feeling as if she’s not worthy of his name, maybe even having Hugh Jackman come back to the role in a dream to settle her fears, much like in the comics, and see her become the hero he knew she could be.

Push the button

A/N: My idea for this fic changed a few times because I came up with a series idea….so enjoy the fluff while you can. The relationship between the reader & Jensen has a lot of inspiration from the one I share with my brother-in-law. I basically took something that happened with me & my brother-in-law & adjusted it to fit this story. Enjoy.

Jensen x Sister!Reader

You were scrolling through Facebook while laying on the bed at your brother’s house when JJ came strolling into your room. Looking up from the conversation you were having with your friend on chat you shot JJ a confused look. She looked upset, an emotion you rarely saw on the happy three year old’s face. Placing the laptop on the bed you got up and walked over to her.

“What’s wrong little bird?” You asked her while crouching down to her level.

“Daddy’s leavin’ again tomorrow.” She replied with a pout.

Giving her a sad smile you embraced your niece, “I know,” You told her, “Sucks a lot, doesn’t it?” JJ simply nodded her head as she wrapped her arms around your neck. “Where is your dad anyways?” You questioned her.

“Wif mama, Arrow, and Zeppy.” She responded, letting out a sigh. With JJ’s words you couldn’t help but squeeze her a little tighter. Jensen and Danneel had been worried about JJ feeling left out with the birth of the twins. Their fear had led to them asking you to move in with them. You could help Danneel with the kids, spend time with your family, and it gave you more time to work on the screenplay you had been writing.

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Young God

slut!dan, top!phil

2180 words of beauty

(i’m actually pretty proud of this one)

Dan Howell was what you’d call, or at least what his friends called, up for anything. He was a bit of a slut, really. Sex wasn’t a big deal to him anymore, didn’t matter who, if they asked for a night Dan would be up for it, he was considered a bit of a sex god. He had been with all of his friends at least once each.

Except for Phil Lester.

Phil hadn’t been around too long with Dan’s group of friends, he had started hanging around only a few months ago, he worked with Dan’s friend Aleena. Dan didn’t know him very well, but he admired him from afar, and caught Phil doing the same every now and then.

He didn’t speak much, but Dan was interested. He seemed strange, sort of mysterious, but not sinister. If anything he seemed sweet and shy, completely innocent.

That was what Dan thought until Phil approached him at a party.

“Hey,” Phil muttered, keeping his gaze aimed anywhere but Dan’s face. Dan chuckled, setting down his glass.

“Oh, so you do speak.” Dan smirked. Phil nodded.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Phil looked up, meeting eyes with Dan and he felt a jolt going through his whole body. Holy fuck he’s pretty.

“So, er…” Dan stuttered, suddenly feeling extremely nervous, which was very unlike him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s… what’s up?”

Phil chuckled now, and leaned forward, practically breathing down Dan’s neck.

“I have to ask you something.” He paused. “I heard you sleep around a lot, yeah?”

Dan felt a shiver run through his body, and he bit his lip. It wasn’t like him to let someone have such an effect on him, but he couldn’t help it. Phil’s persona in Dan’s eyes had changed in mere seconds, and it was hot as fuck.

“Mhm,” Dan muttered, trying to regain his confident demeanor. He raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

Phil chuckled again quietly, and damn.

“I want a night with you.”

Dan practically choked on his own tongue, eyes widening in surprise.

“You want a night?” He asked, sputtering, when he could speak. Phil frowned.

“Yeah.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is that a problem?”

“N-no, I just…” Dan ran his fingers through his hair. “I just didn’t expect it.”

Phil replaced Dan’s hand with his own, smoothly running his hand through Dan’s hair before suddenly tugging roughly, pulling Dan’s head back. Dan gasped in surprise.

“And why not?” Phil muttered, placing a gentle kiss on Dan’s throat. Dan had to bite his lip to stifle a moan.

“Er, y-you seem… shy…? You’ve never really talked to me before…”

“Mmh.” Phil made a quiet grunting noise under his breath. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

“Yes, sir,” Dan replied immediately, smirking at the way Phil’s face flushed red and his eyes widened slightly. He growled, yanking Dan’s hair one more time before letting go.

“Tomorrow evening, eight o’ clock. Don’t be late,” Phil muttered. “And Dan? Wear something pretty for me,” he added before disappearing back into the crowd.


——————–


Dan took a deep breath, puffing air into his cheeks and blowing out before ringing the doorbell. He felt more nervous than he usually did, it was unnerving.

Phil answered the door only seconds later, and Dan looked him up and down. He was wearing a tight navy blue button up, decorated with tiny pink flowers. Dan grinned. His jeans were equally tight black skinnies. He looked attractive as hell, and he had messy hair.

“Hey,” Phil breathed, and his thin pink lips stretched into a huge smile. Dan smiled back.

“Hi,” he replied, almost shyly.

Phil stepped aside, motioning for Dan to enter after him. He could feel Phil’s eyes on him, looking him over, and he felt his skin heat up.

The second the door was closed Phil was on him, shoving him against the wood and attacking his neck. Dan moaned loudly, too surprised to hold it back.

“I was gonna make dinner for you,” Phil mumbled against Dan’s skin, biting gently. “But I didn’t want to wait to do this.”

“Jesus,” Dan gasped, tilting his head back to give Phil more access to the sensitive area.

Phil grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging his head back roughly even more and biting down on Dan’s adam’s apple.

“Ah-” Dan gasped. “For fucks sake, Phil.”

Phil reached down, palming Dan’s already forming bulge through his jeans while working at his neck, and Dan found himself rutting against the other mans hand in desperation.

“Mmh, already hard, are we?” Phil smirked.

“S-shut up,” Dan replied, frowning. “You’re fuckinggggg…” he trailed off with a shout when Phil sucked at the soft spot beneath his ear. “You’re f-fucking good at t-that.”

“Yeah?” Phil whispered, biting Dan’s ear and playing with the waistband of his jeans that were rapidly tightening.

“Fuck!” Dan cried, a loud moan ripping from his throat. “For gods sake, Phil, please!”

“Please what, baby,” Phil asked, his voice low. Dan groaned, throwing his head back.

“Fuck me-!”

The second the words left Dan’s mouth he was being lifted, his legs wrapping around Phil’s waist instinctively and his arms around his neck. Phil kissed him roughly, shoving his tongue into Dan’s mouth. Phil bit his bottom lip, tugging and making Dan whimper.

“Bedroom,” Phil gasped. “Now.”

He set Dan down, grabbing his wrist and tugging him roughly towards the door at the end of the hall. He fumbled with the doorknob, shoving Dan inside and causing him to stumble and sit on the edge of the bed. Phil shoved him down instantly, climbing on top of him and straddling him before going back to work on Dan’s neck.

“So pretty,” Phil whispered. “God, you’re so pretty, Dan.”

Phil ran his thumb down Dan’s jaw, trailing over his throat and Dan shuddered.

“Your neck is so pretty, babe,” Phil leaned down to kiss softly at Dan’s collarbone. Dan whimpered, his breath hitching and his hips rutting up in desperation. “Wanna leave marks all over you.”

“Y-yes sir,” Dan gasped out, and he saw something flash in Phil’s eyes. “P-please.”

Phil took no time with ripping Dan’s shirt over his head, tossing it aside and letting Dan unbutton his. Phil kissed him again, roughly and desperately connecting their mouths, grinding down on Dan’s crotch and making him groan.

“God Phil, just-” Dan’s breath caught. “Just fuck me already or I’ll cum in my pants.”

“Jesus fuck, that’s so hot,” Phil muttered, a grin stretching across his features and his eyes sparkling. “Okay baby.”

Phil tugged at Dan’s button, quickly unzipping them and sliding the tight jeans down his legs. He froze, staring at the lacy black panties Dan had chosen for this occasion. Dan smirked.

“What’s wrong?” He asked teasingly, dragging his finger over Phil’s jaw. “You told me to wear something pretty for you, sir.”

Dan watched as Phil’s jaw tightened, his eyebrows raising just slightly. Without a word Phil pulled Dan’s hips to his own, pulling his legs up over his shoulders and trailing hot kisses up his inner thighs. Dan’s breath hitched, a moan catching in his throat, and he bucked his hips.

“Please!” Dan whined, not caring how loud he was anymore. “Fuck, Phil, I want you so bad, want you inside me, please…”

Phil chuckled, leaning over Dan’s body to kiss his lips. “Getting a bit desperate, are we?”

Dan just nodded, not sure that he could speak.

Phil bit his lip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and tugged his own jeans down to reveal his hard on through his tight black briefs. Dan immediately tugged at the waistband, desperate to get them off, and pulled them down. Phil groaned as Dan took the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue and watching Phil’s face that was shadowed with bliss.

“Do you need prep, baby?” Phil asked, pulling himself out of Dan’s mouth and rubbing himself slowly. Dan shook his head.

“Did it before I came here,” Dan muttered. “Considering I knew we were gonna fuck.”

“Mmh, clever boy.” Phil patted his cheek, grabbing his chin roughly and admiring the dark purple bruises he had left that were already forming on Dan’s neck and jaw.

Phil carefully removed the panties, tossing them off of the bed. He bent himself over, licking a broad stripe up the underside of Dan’s thigh from his ass, and Dan shuddered.

Phil quickly grabbed the lube and a condom from his bedside drawer, sliding it on and rubbing himself slowly, slicking himself up carefully.

“Get on with it,” Dan muttered, gasping when Phil grabbed his jaw harshly.

“Shut up,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Sluts don’t tell me what to do.”

Phil lined himself up with Dan, pushing in slowly and giving Dan a moment to adjust to the tight fit, before snapping his hips. Dan shouted, a long stream of profanities and moans leaving his swollen lips, throwing his head back as Phil began to thrust into him, watching his face as he picked up speed.

Phil changed his angle, leaning over Dan and pressing their bodies together so he could kiss down Dan’s throat, and the boy beneath him practically shrieked.

“Phil!” He gasped out, scratching his nails down his back in a desperate manner. “Fuck! R-Right there, fuck, harder!”

Phil groaned, slowing down and focusing on thrusting deeper and hitting Dan in just the right place, causing Dan to grip his thigh, moaning whorishly with ever movement of Phil’s hips. Phil buried his face in Dan’s neck, breathing in sharp gasps and occasionally biting down, making Dan scream louder when he did.

“Oh g-god! Close!” Dan whined, rutting his hips to meet Phil’s thrusts and grinding back on his cock.

“Mm, good boy,” Phil muttered back, against Dan’s hot skin, drunk off the feeling of Dan’s tight head surrounding him, not quite aware of his own words. “Cum for me, Dan. Cum so pretty, baby, wanna see your face. Cum from my cock inside you.”

Phil reached down between Dan’s legs, jerking him off slowly, almost sleepily, feeling the boy beneath him fall apart.

With a twitch of his cock and a loud high pitched moan Dan came, his eyes screwed shut, his head thrown back and his mouth open. Phil groaned loudly just from the sight, feeling himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

At the last second Phil pulled out, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around his own cock, jerking himself off quickly. Dan shook his head, sleepily moving Phil’s hand and replacing it with his mouth, kissing up and down the sides of Phil’s shaft, circling his tongue over Phil’s slit before taking it to the back of his throat.

“Oh f-fuck,” Phil gasped, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair and tugging him down on his dick. “Look so good babe, so pretty, just for me. Waited so long to have you like this, god I’m so close, fuck.”

Phil slowly began to thrust into Dan’s mouth, and sped up when Dan tapped his thigh to tell him it was okay. Phil came down his throat with a loud moan, watching through heavy eyes while Dan cleaned him up, licking his lips and sucking softly on Phil’s tip.

“God,” Phil muttered when he could speak, running his fingers through his messy hair. Dan just nodded, flopping backwards onto Phil’s pillows, still breathing heavily.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Phil thought about holding him, wrapping his arms around Dan’s sweaty body and never letting go, but maybe that was desperate? But before he could even make a decision Dan had grabbed his wrist, tugging him down on top of him and nuzzling into his neck, his arms wrapped tightly around Phil’s waist. Phil grinned, running his fingers through Dan’s messy, slightly curly hair.

“You’re pretty,” Phil muttered sleepily. He felt Dan smile, and angle his face to look at him.

“Thanks.”

“Mmhm.” Phil admired Dan’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the marks he had left.

“Phil?” Dan asked, his voice quiet and almost nervous sounding.

“Mmh, yeah baby?”

“Do you want to maybe…” Dan bit his lip. “Do that again sometime…?”

“Oh hell yes,” Phil replied immediately. “Dan, you have no idea how long I waited to get you like that. I’m not giving it up for the world.”

Dan smiled, his eyelashes fluttering.

“I think you’re the best I’ve ever had,” Dan mused. Phil raised his eyebrows.

“That’s saying a lot.” Dan swatted him lightly on the chest.

“Shut up.”

“Hey Dan?”

Dan looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want you sleeping around anymore.” Phil traced his fingertips over Dan’s palm before intertwining their fingers. “You’re mine, I want to be the only one touching you like that, seeing you like that.” He paused. “If you’d like, of course.”

Dan bit his lip. “Yeah.” He smiled. “I think I would.”

“Good.” Phil raised his eyebrows. “Round two in the shower?”

“Fuck yes.”

classic lit inspired plots
  • divine comedy: muse a has found themselves lost in purgatory, but yet has a chance to redeem themselves and be brought back to life. they are guided along their journey by muse b, another soul who has been lost in purgatory for centuries. will muse a redeem themselves? in helping muse a on ther journey, will muse b be set free as well? and what if both muses develop feelings for one another, will muse a give up their second chance at life to remain with muse b?
  • wuthering heights: muse a, an impoverished and orphaned child, is adopted by a wealth manor owner. muse a grows up alongside muse b, the child of the manor owner, and the two become dear friends who roam the countryside. however when muse b’s father dies and elder brother takes possession of the estate, he forces muse a to act as a servant. will hatred consume muse a? will muse b sucuumb to the advances of a dull, yet rich young suitor? will muse a and muse b’s friendship prevail?
  • the picture of dorian gray: muse a is an extremely handsome and wealth socialite. however, they have a dark secret. they’ve forfeited their souls for eternal youth and beauty, and rather than aging themselves, a mysterious portrait takes each sin they commit as a blemish upon it’s canvas. muse b is curious about muse a, intrigued by the scandal and mystery surrounding them, perhaps enchanted or disgusted by muse a. will they uncover muse a’s secret? will they fall under muse a’s spell? or will muse b’s investigation end in disaster? 
  • romeo & juliet: admittedly cliche romeo and juliet plot. muse a and muse b are from different rival families, forbidden love, tragedy, etc. can take place in shakespearean times or in modern era a la baz luhrman’s work.
  • the great gatsby: muse a is a poor, yet ambitious soldier in wwi. they fall in love with muse b, a wealthy socialite. however, circumstances force the two apart, and muse b is unwillingly married off to a rich suitor. five years later, muse a has acquired an unimaginable sum of wealth and is reunited with muse b. the two begin a secret affair. yet one’s past cannot be escaped, and a single question pervades in the air: where did all muse a’s money come from?

FX LEGION SENTENCE STARTERS.
may contain spoilers. feel free to adjust to fit muse !!

  • “ I have to know. Is this real? ”
  • “ That’s just low, son. ”
  • “ Don’t worry about me. It’s you that’s got problems. ”
  • “ They’re coming and they’re gonna kill you. ”
  • “ I know - I’m dead - you killed me. And I gotta say, not cool, man. ”
  • “ Don’t give a newbie a bazooka and then be surprised when she blows shit up. ”
  • “ If the readings are right, he may be the most powerful mutant that we’ve ever encountered. ”
  • “ Why are all the hots ones so crazy? ”
  • “ Do you wanna be my girlfriend? ”
  • “ Careful. I bite. ”
  • “ Please keep talking, so we can pretend that our problems are all in our heads. ”
  • “ I like you. You’ve got what the kids these days call moxie. ”
  • “ All I’m saying is, what if your problems aren’t in your head. What if they aren’t even problems? ”
  • “ Something new needs to happen - soon. ”
  • “ On the plus side I’ve mastered eating with a spoon. ”
  • “ And honestly, all I really need is your body. And your mind? Well, I could give a shit about your mind. ”
  • “ Look, I know you’re just trying to help, but this just doesn’t for some reason feel real. ”
  • “ My whole life is a lie. I just need to know—who am I? ”
  • “ It wears a human face. Be careful, he wears a human face. ”
  • “ He doesn’t seem fragile, not since he came back. ”
  • “ We can’t lose him. ”
  • “ Who teaches us to be normal when we’re one of a kind? ”
  • “ It’ll be fun. Kick some ass. Save the girl. Get a snack. ”
  • “ I think I know what I am. ”
  • “ I’m the magic man. ”
  • “ I met your husband. He was a beat poet? ”
  • “ Monster as metaphor: I like it, but wrong. ”
  • “ Because we’re at war, and we’re losing. ”
  • “ It’s sweet, really. They think they can save you. ”
  • “ What are you doing, kid? You think you’re safe here? With these clowns? ”
  • “ Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to be my friend. ”
  • “ Could you, maybe, not break everything this time? ”
  • “ I’m not gonna promise that. ”
  • “ We’re having a romance of the mind. ”
  • “ ____, I think I killed your friend. I’m so sorry. ”
  • “ We could give God a run for his money, right? ”
  • “ I knew your father, did you know that? Your real father. ”
  • “ He makes me laugh, and I keep him safe. ”
  • “ I was sick. But I’m not sick anymore. ”
  • “ Who are we if not the stories we tell ourselves? ”
  • “ ____. You’re freaking out. Stop it. ”
  • “ I needed you and you left me. ”
  • “ What is the point of life? All of you running around trying to what? Be happy? Fulfilled? You tell me. ”
  • “ I came back for you, I love you. ”

To Note:

This is how I study literature and it works for me( my lit exams marks are typically 70/75 sometimes higher or in the high sixties( 60’s) but everyone is different and it is important that you use what works for you! I hope this helps you in any way big or small!


1: Read the novel. Just read it with no stopping to take notes or highlight, if possible try to enjoy it. This gives you a general idea of all the themes, plots,characters and others.

2: Get a notebook  or leaflets of paper binder/folder to keep it all in one place. I prefer a notebook. What I have in this notebook:

  • I tend to leave the first page blank and later paste a quote on it.
  • table of contents.
  • summary of full book.
  • any research on particular topics (this was homework but i would recommend researching a little if the book mentions a lot of like historical stuff or things you just don’t know).
  • the main character’s family tree.
  • a page each for the main characters then I put a page for important families in the book (examples Radley and Ewells family in To Kill A Mockingbird). As well as one or two pages titled ‘minor characters’ where any little detail about these characters can be jotted down here. More on what these pages contain later on.
  • chapter summaries in order, with beginning and ending page numbers along with a short analysis (on a post-it). I also add a quote that I i liked or felt was important but that isn’t necessary as quotes are covered later down. These summaries are written after I reread that particular chapter, where I underline words I don’t know the meaning of and you can highlight important thing if you want,preferably to a colour code system. here’s a nice little guide to annotating by @mildstudies

3: So what I usually have on these main characters’ pages are:

  • basic character information (name, age, race.
  • character sketch (basically the qualities of the person like bravery and kindness).
  • character growth (more so for the protagonist).
  • an important quote or two that was said by the character but again that’s not necessary.
  • my thoughts on the character which I think is really important.

4: Quotes are very important in literature and most if not all teachers will encourage you to use them in your essays so these are two things you can do:

  • just write quotes that each person said on their character’s page and quotes from the narrative itself on a separate page.
  • or the second way which I prefer is to arrange these quotes by chapter, highlighting which character said it and then writing a brief analysis on it. You can also arrange them by person and highlight the chapter and page number. I love either ways.

5: Vocabulary is also important ( my teacher once told me about a question asking for the meaning of 'spittoon’ in To Kill A Mockingbird.) When reading over the novel I underline words I don’t know and transfer them onto a separate sheet of paper (arrange by chapter) and write down the meanings. You can use two columns to do this, one with word and the other definition. You can also use studyign’s summary foldables method and make (online) flashcards to test yourself.

6: Reviewing for exams can be hard, especially if you don’t have the time to reread the entire books. But that’s okay because you have the chapter summaries and analysis and all your other information although I do recommend reading or simply skimming the really important chapters. Here are some other tips:

  • know your exam format and the type of questions. My exam typically gives us two choices for the novel, each of which gives us a particular topic (one example is Jem’s punishment for what he did to Mrs. Dubose) and then three to four things they’d like us to include (example: why did he do that to Mrs. Dubose.) We are to write these in essay formats.
  • write essays on the book to review later (for TKAM I’m writing an essay on the theme racism using references from the book as well as I wrote a view on Scout’s character and Atticus’ parenting style.) This is really good to read before an exam.
  • do mock papers, preferably within the usual time period of your exams.
  • get a good night sleep, eat a good breakfast and believe in yourself. You’ve put in the work, you’ll reap the benefits.

Important:

I guess this can be considered hardcore because I’m probably the only one in my class that does this much work but the main reason is that I am being tested on this at the end of the term for probably three terms in all as well as in 2018, two years after we started doing this novel, I will be tested on it for an exam that the entire region (i believe it’s similar to gcse) so all this work is in preparation for that so do adjust it to fit your needs. I’m also very open to ways to improve this!

I woke up this morning, messed around on the internet for a while, and then worked on the Neverending Jacket (it’s just a jacket that is taking me a Long Time to finish) and I hit that point where like…it’s so close to being done that all that’s left are some small fit adjustments and adding some decoration. You know the point, where the project is essentially finished but you gotta go to the store to get some last-minute odds and ends. 

So I’m like cool, I’ve been working on this for a few hours, the store’s probably open – 

And I look up and it’s 7:30 in the morning.

Apparently I got up at three and just started sewing. Because that’s sane and rational. And hey, I managed to attach two sleeves seam-inwards at 3:30am, which for me is quite the accomplishment. 

Anyway I guess I’m going to Jo-Ann’s…when it opens…in an hour…to get buttons and black thread. 

Awful Liar || Joe Sugg

Originally posted by luminescent-jaspar

Requests are currently [ OPEN ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: this has been in my ask box for a while, seeing as i wasn’t quite sure how to go about writing it. but after writing a little drabble, aka the first two hundred words, i decided to morph it into a request and it seemed like this one fitted perfectly. enjoy!!xo




“This isn’t funny, Joe!”

“Babe, come on. You’ve gotta admit that it is.”

“No!” You protest, shaking your head violently as you stare at the mess of your boyfriend’s kitchen, your eyes wide as you run a hand through your hair and take a small step back.

Joe, along with the rest of the boys, who had all collapsed onto the sofa, laughed at your overreaction, which to you, was an under-reaction. The place looked like they’d managed to hold a children’s party in the hour whilst she was at Waitrose, and given them free reign of the kitchen.

You so desperately wished that you could begin to scold Joe just like you would if you were alone, and had to bite your lip to hold the comments in as he walks past you, inconspicuously brushing his hands across your waist.

You glare at his back and give the mess one last glance before rolling your eyes and walking out of the room, pulling your shirt over your head as you walked, flipping the boys off when a series of cat whistles were sent your way.

You walk into the downstairs bathroom and manage to find one of Joe’s clean shirts to replace the one that you’d taken off and thrown into the laundry basket. Shrugging the soft material over your head, you quickly check your face and hair in the mirror before adjusting your tight fitted gym shorts and walking back down the corridor and into the adjoined kitchen and living room.

You walk into the kitchen and lean against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest and eyeing Joe with an amused smirk as you watch him reluctantly disinfect the surfaces. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“But you don’t like mess, and it’s not fair if you have to clean up after me all the time. That’s not your job.” He mutters, putting the cloth down and looking at you with a cheeky grin. “And besides, the boys were starting to get on my nerves.”

You glance over your shoulder curiously, before looking back at Joe and cocking your brows. “Why, love?”

“Think it’s just because I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

At his suggestive tone, you roll your eyes and nudge him. “Oi.”

Joe smirks, glancing over your shoulder to make sure that none of the boys were looking before quickly kissing your lips and proceeding to worm his way around you and walk into the living room with a glass of orange juice in his hands and a cheeky grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You press your lips together to hide your smile as you chuckle, picking up your phone from the place you’d left it on the counter and walking into the living room, collapsing back into the empty space on the sofa beside Joe, bringing your legs up to your chest and looking up at the TV that the majority of the boys’ eyes were glued to. “What’re we watching?”

“Some game show that Josh and Caspar used to watch back in SA,” Oli says, taking a sip out of his beer bottle and looking over at her with his eyebrows raised a fraction. “Wait, are you wearing any form of trousers right now? Because all I see is skin.”

This caught the rest of the boys’ attention, and they all turned their heads to look at you in curiosity. You roll your eyes and shuffle up slightly, gripping onto the bottom of your cotton shorts and pulling them down as proof. Oli raises his hands in defense at your smug smile, and a few of the guys laugh before looking back at the TV. Joe leans in close to your ear, whispering so that none of the other boys could hear. “You know, it wouldn’t be the first time you walked around this apartment with no trousers on.”

You push him away, giggling quietly and rolling your eyes when he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you even closer toward him. Looking up at him through your lashes, you shoot him a pointed look. He simply smirks down at you and uses his free hand to scrunch up your face, laughing when you attempted to shake him off.

The gameshow turned out to be relatively entertaining, though the way Josh and Caspar got so into it that they’d glare at anyone who dared speak above a certain volume made the whole thing a whole lot more interesting. You got up a few times, either to use the bathroom or get drinks from the kitchen, but your spot under Joe’s arm remained the same throughout the night, though every time you returned after doing something, you inched even closer than you had been before.

Your eyes began to burn after a good few hours, and you dug your hand into Joe’s pocket to pull out his phone in order to check the time, seeing as you’d left yours charging in the kitchen just a little while earlier. You blink and allow your eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness of the screen before reading the time, your jaw slacking slightly in shock. The last time you’d checked, it’d only been around ten pm, and somehow, now, it was gone one am. You look up at the show playing on the TV, wondering what the hell kinda game show lasted for more than three hours before mumbling incoherently and looking up at Joe with sleepy eyes.

He looks down at you instinctively, and you blink up at him silently as he brushes his thumb over your cheek. “You tired, love?”

You nod your head and part your lips to reply, but Josh’s booming voice interrupted before you could. “Okay, enough if enough. What the hell is going on between you two?”

You look over at them all, a startled look on your face when you realise that the TV had been paused and all the attention was on you and Joe. There was a moment of silence, before Joe cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead awkwardly. “Depends on how you characterise us as human beings.”

Caspar snorts, rolling his eyes and chucking a piece of popcorn at the two of you. “Yeah, sure, whatever. But we all know that whenever Joe doesn’t want us to know something, he tries to distract us with some kind of incorrect philosophical bullshit.”

You bite your lip and shrug. “Well, would you guys be opposed to us dating, or..?”

“I have to agree with Casp here; Joe’s a bloody awful liar. And, to be honest (Y/N), it’d be a long time coming, and we all think so.” Jack snorts, and everyone else in the room, excluding Joe and yourself, nods in agreement.

Joe shrugs, looking down at you and kissing you softly. “Go to bed love, I’ll be in soon.”

As everyone in the rooms’ eyes widen, you hum and kiss him once more before standing up, clutching Joe’s phone in your hand, fully intending to use it to keep yourself occupied before he joined you upstairs and lectured you on how much better it is for your health to not sleep with a phone in your bedroom. You smile at the boys sleepily. “Night.”

You received a quiet chorus of ‘goodnights’ as you begin to walk out of the room and up the stairs toward Joe’s bedroom, leaving all of the boys to turn to stare at Joe with wide eyes. He shrugs and glances over his shoulder at you, watching as you turn the corner at the top of the stairs into his bedroom and smiling to himself. “Yeah, I’m not quite sure either..”

gentlebreadslice  asked:

i have color questions (sorry if you've answered these before aaa you don't have to respond): how do you keep consistent colors? like with Finn's skin, do you write down the color's code or do you use a different shade every time? also, how do you correctly adjust colors to fit lighting?

These are great questions and I totally don’t mind answering them!

1). For keeping consistent colors, my personal method is to have base skin tones (and hair tones, etc) saved in my MS color set that I have readily available, then I tie my colors together with a little bit of an overlay or screen effect, depending on what palette I’m working with. This ensures that everything is very cohesive while also making sure I don’t have to start from scratch with my basic colors every time I draw my favorite characters. Overlays are my best friend in general when it comes to coloring TBQH!

2). My best advice for adjusting colors to fit lighting is to actually think of it as “fit the lighting to your colors,” if that makes sense. I always work my lighting choices around the palette I’ve laid down, and focus on utilizing 1-3 layers of shading to create a light source (the light source really just being my base colors - I rarely do a highlight layer in my work). I use either a dark pink or dark purple as my shading color, and work it as much as I need to depending on how dramatic I want my lighting to be.

For example, take a look at how I colored this illustration:

1. Base colors 

2. Shading (I used a magenta at 35%, normal setting)

3. Shading II (just very slight detailing for extra depth, magenta at 20%)

With really only 1 layer of shading I created a strong light source while also tying all my colors together! (•̀o•́)ง

These methods are the products of my own weird relationship with color, so I don’t assume that my methods will jive with you, but I’m hoping that at least seeing how I work can help answer your questions! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

Just Friends (epilogue) - Stiles Stilinski

“Lucy you get off the coffee table this instant!” You used your sternest voice without yelling at the five year old.  “It is time for bed, now come upstairs with me so we can put your pajamas on” You said, and she pouted.

“But momma I wanna watch Beauty n’ Beast” She said, using big golden brown puppy dog eyes.  You gave her a look, and slowly put your hands on your hips.

“Well if we go up get ready for night night now, then I promise, we can watch Beauty n’ Beast tomorrow” You said, and you saw the hesitation in your daughter’s expression.  “Come on” You said in a softer tone, approaching her with open arms, and wrapping them around her middle, holding her up on your hip.

“Okay” She sighed, leaning her weight against your chest and shoulder.  You smiled a victorious smile.

“Come on baby, let’s go get some sleep.  And tomorrow, we can watch your movie and maybe if it’s nice out we can go to the park together” You told her, and she nodded her head sleepily on your shoulder while you went up the steps.  When you entered her room, you flicked the light on the lowest setting, really just enough for the room to be dimly lit.

“Mommy?” Lucy called as you were tucking her into bed.

“Yes sweetie?” You asked, brushing her hair back

“Can daddy read me a bedtime story?” She asked, and you gave half a smile.

“Could I do it tonight? Daddy’s real busy with work downstairs right now” You asked, but she frowned, and you sighed.  Of course she wanted her father to tell her a story.  His were much more creative and drawn out.

“Please?” Lucy asked in a begging voice, and she batter her puppy dog eyes again.

“I’ll go see” You breathed, but gave her a small smile.  “Be right back” You got up, walking to the hall and back down the stairs to where your husband was working at the kitchen table.  He had all his papers across the tabletop, pens and pencils, colored highlighters scattered everywhere.  He was intently staring down at a file folder that had to have five hundred papers in it.  But when you walked in, he looked right up to you.

“Hey baby” He smiled a tired, and worn out smile, standing up to embrace you.

“Stiles, she’s only going to go to sleep if you read to her” You told him as his arms encircled your waist.

“Then I’ll read to her” He smiled, pecking your nose quickly.

“I don’t want to interrupt your case-”

“I promise, you’re not interrupting anything” He said, and released you.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a unicorn wedding story to attend to” Stiles grinned, kissing you chastely before heading up the stairs.  You sat on the couch, going back to the book you’d been attempting to read before Lucy decided to be queen of the coffee table.

The girl smiled as soon as her father entered the room.

“Daddy!”

“Sh sh sh.. don’t get us in trouble with your mother” Stiles said quietly, pulling a chair up next to Lucy’s bed.  “Now, what will be the story request tonight?”

“Are you the beauty or the beast?” Stiles chuckled at the way his daughter was obsessed with the Disney film.

“Well, let’s say your mom is definitely the beauty” He said.  “She’s always been”

“You love each other?”

“Well of course we do, and we love you kiddo” Stiles ruffled Lucy’s hair, the same color as yours.

“So you always loved each other?” Stiles chuckled.

“You’d be surprised.  Your mom chased me around for a while” He said through a long breath, rubbing the slight scruff on his chin as he leaned back in the chair.  “I’d say she was quite the stalker, chasing me down and begging me to go out with her” Lucy giggled.

“Well I sure don’t remember it that way” Stiles turned to see you standing in the doorway, leaning against it.  “In fact… I think it may be the total opposite” Lucy fell into a fit of laughter again.

“So did you do true loves kiss?” Lucy asked, and you smiled, sitting on her bed, knees brushing Stiles’.

“Oh yeah” You said with a big grin.  “And we still do” 

“So you’re soulmates?” Lucy asked, and you giggled, adjusting the blankets to fit around her body.

“I’d certainly say so” Stiles spoke up, and you gave him a smile.

“Yeah me too” You added.  “And some day, in a distant future from now, you will too” You told your daughter.

“Very distant” Stiles piped.  “Like… sixty years distant”

“Stiles”

“Daddy!” You both scolded Stiles, and he gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Alright alright, time for mom to go to bed” You yawned, and stood up with a stretch.

“Okay kid, time for sleep” Stiles said, leaning over and kissing her forehead.  “Sweet dreams princess” 

“Goodnight daddy” Lucy said tiredly before he left and went to the bedroom.  You smiled at your daughter, pressing a long kiss to her forehead, and closing your eyes.

“I love you baby girl” 

“I love you too mommy” Lucy giggled.  You caressed her soft cheek, kissing her forehead once more.

“Goodnight sweetheart.  I’ll make you pancakes in the morning, okay?” Lucy nodded.

“Okay” She yawned.  “Goodnight mama”

“Goodnight baby” You whispered, and walked to the door, flicking off the light.  You smiled at your little girl for a moment, then closed the door, and walked into yours and Stiles’ bedroom.  You found him sitting on the edge of the mattress, in sweatpants for bed, and no shirt.  Which you smiled at.  You closed the door, and padded to the dresser, taking one of his shirts out, and stripping out of your jeans and shirt.  

“How’re you feeling?” Stiles asked as you pulled the long tee shirt over your body.  You smiled at him, and walked over to him, sitting on his lap.

“Pretty wonderful Mr Stilinski” He grinned crookedly at you, and brought your lips to his in a long kiss.

“Barely saw you all day” He mumbled against your mouth, and you stroked your fingers against his cheek.

“Yeah, that’s the thing about you having a job” You giggled softly, and kissed him again.

“Well then maybe I need to quit” Stiles murmured, winding his arms around your waist.  

“That’s not funny” You said, pulling your lips abruptly away from his.

“Hey-” Stiles furrowed his brow in a pout.

“And speaking of not funny” You said sliding off his lap, and making his expression more permanent.  “I know you taught Lucy how to use those stupid puppy eyes” You scolded, sliding into the blankets.

“Did she rat me out?” He asked, flopping down next to you, and pulling the covers over him as well.

“Stiles, just because you’re the fancy dancy FBI Agent, doesn’t mean I can’t figure things out” You chuckled, and he smiled innocently at you.  “What? What’s that look for?”

“You’d be a sexy cop” He said, shrugging nonchalantly, and making you giggle.  You rolled onto your side, still smiling big at him.

“I’m happy” You said aloud, and he rolled to his back, opening up his arms.

“Come ‘mere” He whispered, and you easily snuggled against his side, head lying on his chest.  “Did you know, that I love you so much, I would burn every existing Star Wars film on this planet, if it meant you’d smile for a few seconds?” You laughed softly, laying your hand on his chest and tracing patterns on his skin.

“I’d do anything for you too Stiles” You whispered, and he kissed your forehead, causing your eyes to fall shut.  “I love you” Stiles wrapped his arms around you again, holding you tightly against him.

“Love you too” It was quiet for a bit, neither of you sleeping, just cuddling and enjoying the other’s presence.

“Hey Stiles?” You called quietly, setting your chin on his collarbone to look at him.

“Yeah babe?” He mumbled back, opening his eyes to look at you.  You smiled slyly.  “Oh, and I’m the one dishing out looks.  What’s that?” You scooted up closer.

“We never did have Prom sex” You hummed, and Stiles grinned eagerly.  Before you knew it, you were being flipped over on the mattress.

“Guess we can make up for it then”


OK THIS.  IS.  THE.  END.  FOR REAL THIS TIME
buuuuut again, thanks to everyone and shout out to @failingmemequeen for inspiring me to make this epilogue a thing

and omg shout out to @writing-obrien for niticing and complimeting my lame ass BIG thanks to her xx

(and shout out to @taegdcl1018 bc i mean.  she’s my bean.)

tagged: @lena-lightwood @seninjakitey @morganschiebel @spn–addict–i-may-need-help and @bunnyboo10154

lots of love and hugs sweet dreams don’t do drugs stay in school have safe sex and don’t hug any cactuses, no matter how cute they are.
xoxo ~ jordie

Adjusted to fit requesters views. They wished for it to be funny instead of angsty.

19. “I’m going to kill you!”
28: “I thought we were family!”

Drabble requests are closed!


Sibling Rivalry

“Where is it?!” Dean’s voice echoed. You looked up from your book, meeting the eyes of your other brother.

“Who did it?” Dean walked in, arms crossed. Sam gave you a look before turning to face his brother.

“What is it now, Dean?” Sam asked. Dean’s eyes went wide.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. “I thought we were family!” Dean hissed, “Someone ate my pie!”

Sam started laughing and you giggled a bit.

“No one cares about your special Dutch Apple pie, bro,” You said, playing your poker face. Dean stopped and looked at you.

"How’d you know it was Dutch Apple?” He asked and you felt your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t until you heard the “I’m going to kill you!” that you took off running.