and he leans towards him

What the Hell is a Stiles?

Sterek, T, 2K, Blind Date AU

Saw the prompt from this post that someone reblogged. (Take a look at the list, there are so many good ideas!)

Our mutual friend set us up on a blind date and I thought I’d hate it but you’re actually… kind of funny? But because I expected to hate it in no way am I going to let you change my mind just because you’re gorgeous and funny and intelligent oh no my friend is not winning this

“No,” Derek says easily, without even looking up from his book. Erica groans and flops into the chair opposite him, nearly upsetting his mug of hot chocolate.

“Seriously?” she says, bracing both elbows on the table and leaning toward him. “At least hear me out.”


“He’s cute, Der! I think you’d really like him.”

“Absolutely not. You have a terrible track record with set-ups.”

Erica has the decency to wince, at least, and drop her gaze from Derek’s. “But you’re a catch, Der, and you deserve someone who can make you happy. And since you don’t want to date me—”

“You don’t want to date me, either,” he reminds her, but she just rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. But seriously. You’re great.”

“I thought I was grumpy and terrible with people?” he asks, parroting her words from after the last failed date, and she huffs.

“Please?” she wheedles, poking her lower lips out a bit. “For me. If it goes badly, I’ll never try to set you up again.”

Derek sighs. Fuck.

His facial expressions must be more transparent than he thinks because Erica’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, you’re gonna say yes.”

Derek scowls at her. “Just coffee,” he says firmly. At least that way, he can get it in a to-go cup and make a neat escape after five minutes if he needs to. “No dinner, no movie, no activities.”

“Fine,” she says quickly, digging in her jeans pocket for her phone. “You got it.”

“This is not gonna end well,” he warns her, but she just waves her hand without looking up from her phone.

“Have some faith, Der,” she says, patting him on the hand absently while she pushes her chair back and stands up. “I can’t wait to tell Stiles.”

Derek blinks, watching Erica walk away. 

“Wait, what the hell is a Stiles?” he calls after her.

Keep reading

Black Lies and KitKats

Derek’s mom told him that love is beautiful, with one of those same smiles that everyone got when they talked about Peter’s wife. That sort of past-tense sad reserved for loss that’s worth bringing up again.

Because love is beautiful.

He believes it, that’s the problem. He sees it in her eyes when she plays, mixed up in petty anger and dusky browns. He sees it in the way she leans towards him when they talk, and the way his chest opens up when she’s near by. Derek thinks, This is beautiful.

But, it’s not. Because his mom said—she said love is beautiful—and Paige is vomiting black on to the dirt floor, writhing in pain, babbling out promises and pleas no teenager should ever have to speak. No one should have to ask for help to die, it shouldn’t be this hard. It shouldn’t be this ugly.

He breaks her, and it breaks him.

Love is ugly.

He believes that for months. Long months of time that crawl by with the ever present memory of black, acrid love in the back of his mind. Derek learns to avoid touching people, learns to filter the guilt-induced hallucinations from reality.

He wakes up to inky black in his bed. Not real. Not real. Not real.

The girl touching his arm after the basketball game has black hair—too much like his sisters, yuck—but nothing more. Nothing Paige.

There’s a young boy watching him from the woods. He doesn’t feel real enough for Derek to acknowledge him.

Life goes on like this for a year, and it’s fine. He knows people can survive without love, he’s watched his uncle happily survive for this long.

Until someone sneaks in. No, Kate pushes her way into his life with groping hands, secrets, and little promises that sound more like demands for love and sex and so many good things. She’ll make him feel good, make him strong, make him love her.

Derek doesn’t love her, love is a black mess spewed into the dirt. Love is a dead girl under a tree.

But he takes everything else she offers, because he’s never lived as easily as Peter has, and he’s young. He needs attention, feckless affection with no consequences. Meaningless feel-good. No one will get hurt.

The boy from the woods is back, staring at him across busy police station. Derek’s too fucked up to care if he’s real or not. The next time he looks up, there’s a KitKat on the floor in front of him, and the boy is gone.

Love is a dead girl under a tree.
Love is a home turned tomb.
Love is a lie told to his last family member.

Laura comforts him in their loss, and Derek loves her too much to tell her the truth. They’ve run away from the blackened wood and burning flesh to a city that smells just as bad. It’s not home.

Their first night there is spent in a one room apartment, no electricity, and one mattress on the floor that they collapse into, both of them sobbing so hard Derek fears his heart will finally rip free of his chest.

It doesn’t, he survives.

Derek’s sister tells him that she needs to go back to Beacon Hills with one of those same smiles that she got when they talked about their family. She tells him she wants to visit Peter, to see how he’s doing. It’s a lie, but Derek lets her go.

Because love is beautiful.

He’s there, again. In the woods. He knows it’s him, even years later. Scents don’t change much, unless you lose everything that makes you you. Which is why his immovable uncle Peter smells like something different, something more dangerous than the man he once knew. The boy, however, is the same.

KitKats and a sad smile from the woods.

Derek makes him leave before he thinks too much about events leading up to those memories.

The problem is, they’re persistent. These damn teenagers are everywhere, stepping into his business, getting bit by the rabid alpha, doing stupid, stupid things. A lot of it, in the name of love. Friendship. Family.

Love is a dead girl under a tree, Derek tells himself.

Love is a tomb turned home.

Love is a lie that killed his sister.

Love is…

He finds himself thinking the words at night, while wounds heal and the dust settles. Peter, Scott, Argents, Alphas. Fight, kill. protect, promises. Screaming and arguing, throwing barbs.

KitKats on the doorstep of his tomb-home.

Stiles remembers. Stiles, somehow, sneaks in. And this time, it’s actual sneaking. He moves into Derek’s life like a thundercloud. A low, warning rumble as it moves across the sky, a crackle here or there to let you know what you’re getting into.

Stiles is a spark in a bleak world.

Love is…

Love is a mistake, ill-informed choices taken out of a dead girl’s hands.

Love is memorial, no, a memory.

Love is the lie his sister used to save his life.

He finds Jen.

She’s a blip in his life, the seconds between one extreme and another. Toxic wasteland meet ice age.

It still hurts, but she’s a blip.

Love never even comes into it.

When he finds Stiles in the dirt, screaming, he knows this is it. He’s invested, he’s given away parts of himself again, he’s believing again.

So when Stiles—skinny, defenseless Stiles—brings a plague of murderous amusement to Beacon Hills, he’s already decided what to do.

And he does everything he can to bring Stiles back from wherever he went. Somewhere in the black, under the roots, is that spark.

It takes some time, but with no hesitation, they drag Stiles, kicking and screaming, back to reality.

And it’s not perfect, that’s not how life works. It’s as messy as black rejection spilling into the dirt. It’s as trembling and fragile as the burnt-out-shell of a home in the woods. It’s as many twists and turns as a well told lie to protect someone you love.

But it’s too late for Derek, and it’s too late for Stiles.

Because Derek will do anything to save that stupid kid frowning at him through the trees. He’ll kill everyone before he hurts that confused boy who leaves KitKats for crying murderers. He’ll die for guy who will die for him, because love is…

Love is Stiles.

And love is beautiful.

A Ghostly Friend

Pairing: John Laurens x reader

Words: 995

Warnings: death mention, angst

Request: Requested by anonymous: Reader is one of Hamilton’s children and John Laurens is a guardian angel/imaginary friend to her. Alexander is shocked to find out that she is talking to Laurens because he died before she was born.

GUYS GUYS DAN DOMENECH(understudy for JD, the one who’s in the Heathers video on youtube) LIKED MY ART HE SAID IT WAS AMAZING I’M SO HAPPY

“Alexander, I know you’ve been working a lot lately…” You began to tune out the sound of your mother trying to rush your father off to bed.

“Yeah, when is he not working?” An unfamiliar voice laughed. You turned towards him, leaning against the doorway with his arms folded. No one addressed his comment, ignoring him completely.

When you took a step towards him, he noticed you.

“Wait, can you see me?” He questioned, eyes wide. Silently, you nodded. “Ok, that’s new.” He muttered, glancing at your father. “Hey. That’s your dad right?”

The man pointed to your father, and you nodded. No one seemed to notice your silent conversation with the man.

“Tell him I’m proud of him.” The man grinned. “Oh! I’m John Laurens by the way.” You smiled slightly, turning away from him to walk towards your father.

“Dad.” You tugged his sleeve, getting his attention.

“Yes, Y/N?” He didn’t turn away from his work.

“Um,  John says he’s proud of you.” You repeated John’s message, glancing back as his gaze was fixed on your father.

“John…? Why would your brother be proud of me? And why did he make you tell me?” Your father finally looked from his writing, confused.

“No! Not John Church! John… Laurens!” You recollected his name, watching your father’s face fall.

“How do you… How do you know John Laurens?” He asked you, standing slowly.

“He’s right there!” You pointed to where John was standing. Your father looked bewildered, looking from the empty spot to you.

“Nothing’s there, Y/N.” His eyes were wide, not taking his eyes off the area you pointed to.

“But he is! You just can’t see him!” You protested.

“Y/N, you should get some rest alright? It’s getting late.” He ushered you into your room. John followed behind you.

“Wait!” You shrieked as he shut the door behind you. You were left in the room with the man you’d just met. “Why did he get so mad?” You wondered, turning to John.

“Well, in 1754 I was shot. And uh, I died.” He explained. “He’s probably still broken up about it. Touchy subject.”

“You’re a ghost?” You yelled, causing John to shush you.


“Dad?” You peered into his study, seeing the silhouette of your father through the darkness.

“Yes, Y/N?” His voice cracked, and you felt terrible for bringing up his dead friend.

“I’m sorry for saying what I said.” You apologized, walking forward.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.” When he stood from his chair, you noticed a letter held tightly in his hand.

“Hey, wait a minute.” John stepped in front of you, kneeling down to look at the letter. “I wrote that.”

“You did?” You clamped a hand over your mouth when you realized your father couldn’t hear John.

“What?” Alexander stared at you.

“Nothing! I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight!” You rushed from the room, sprinting into your room.

“John?” You wondered one night after a long silence.

“Mmm?” John mumbled, acknowledging your question.

“How did you die?” The words just came out of your mouth. Blunt and quick, possibly a little rude.

“Oh, well we were at war. And it ended, but the British didn’t know that.” He started.

“Dad doesn’t like the British.” You commented quietly. John couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I know. Well anyway, even though the war was over the British didn’t know. So I was hit on my way home.”

“That’s unfair.” You whispered, staring at the man. He looked faded, and more transparent than usual.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, leaning back in the seat you kept in your room for him. “You should sleep, it’s dark out.” You obeyed, relaxing in your bed and drifting off.

The next morning you could clearly see past John. He was so much more transparent that it almost concerned you. You’d known him for a few weeks, and he became your friend quickly. You weren’t allowed to talk about him, because people would think you were crazy.

“John?” He froze, turning to you.


“Why are you disappearing?” You gestured to his faded form.

“I’m not sure, but it could be me moving on.” At the comment, tears stung your eyes.

“But what if I don’t want you to move on?” You cried out. John was always there for you, and you wouldn’t know what to do without him.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not really my choice.” He ran a hand through your hair, trying to comfort you. It didn’t feel like he was really there anymore, it wasn’t comforting, and you suddenly fled the room.

Tears streamed down your face as you ran down the hallways, faced with your father as he stood staring out the window.

“Y/N?” He turned, concerned by the tears in your eyes.

“It’s nothing.” You exclaimed, wiping the tears away. John stood behind you, craning his neck to see what Alexander was staring at. He ran towards the window, staring at someone walking down the street.

“Y/N, where’s your brother going?” John turned to you, concern lacing his voice.

“Wh-” You stopped yourself, running outside. Philip was storming down the street, carrying pistols.

“Y/N, let it be.” Your father spoke, bringing you back inside. You gave a desperate look to John, and he sprinted down the street to try to stop Philip.

You waited for them to come home.

When the sky grew darker, you started to realize the outcome of the situation.

Neither of them were coming home tonight.

One Kiss, Two Kiss, Many Kisses

Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice

Pairing: Victor / Yuuri

Rating: Teen and up

Read it on AO3

It wasn’t until their second kiss that Yuuri made the face.

He hadn’t had a chance the first time – Victor had taken him by surprise, his lips firmly over Yuuri’s almost before Yuuri had known what was happening. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it, he just hadn’t had time to prepare himself in advance.

But this second time, he was almost certain a kiss was coming. They’d been sitting on the edge of his bed, their inconsequential conversation tapering off into an easy silence. In the absence of any other sounds, Yuuri’s ears had filled with the sensation of his thumping heart, his own overloud breathing. And then he’d heard the creak of his bed as Victor braced a hand on the edge, felt the dip as he leaned in towards him.

Keep reading

“She didn’t know if she leaned into him first or if he pulled her toward him. Maybe both. They crashed together like stars colliding, and then he was kissing her.“

Quick fanart of Julian & Emma - Lady Midnight (Cassandra Clare)

(god, it’s so hard to draw people kissing -_-)

EDIT : Oops, I forgot to put some runes on them!


hey my name is Alex, I’m 17 and I live in London

I’m genderfluid, however, I kind of lean towards male over female. He / him pronouns are preferred (however any are fine!)

It’d be cool if you checked out my blog @canekis it’s mostly nature, buildings, line art and pastels if anyone is at all interested ✨

Dreams (Philip Hamilton x Reader)

A/N- I didn’t proofread or edit at all. Don’t hate me :)

Word Count: 865 


Request/Summary: I don’t feel like summarizing.

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x Reader

AU: Hamiltime (I know the gif doesn’t reflect that but it’s so adorable. So deal.)

Warnings: None… probably… maybe?

A/N- Jordan Fisher is probably a demigod.

Originally posted by riotinoakland

You moved your arms up until your fingers grazed his sides, taking another miniscule step toward him. He leaned forward to say something into your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N).” He mumbled, his breath hot against your ear. He trailed light kisses down the line of your cheekbone until he finally reached your lips. You fit perfectly together, his hands finding their way into your hair and yours on his neck. It felt like his hands were made to touch you, his lips made to kiss you, his arms made to hold you.

You sat up in bed abruptly and rolled over, groaning frustratedly into your pillow. You tried to gather every detail from your dream; you weren’t going to forget this one if you had any say in it. You swung your legs out of bed and stood up, shuffling down the hall. You squinted at the grandfather clock ticking against the wall, illuminated by only the light of the moon coming through the sheer curtain over the window.

3:30. You sighed, peeking through the curtain to stare at the stars through the window. You thought back to your dream. You could practically see the stars in his eyes in that dream. The way he looked at you. If only you had been awake.

“(Y/N)!” Philip called, running up to you.

“Good morning, Philip.” You greeted as he caught his breath.

“Hi.” He grinned and you felt your heart melt for what must’ve been the seventy thousandth time.

“How’s your family?” You asked politely.

“They’re fine.” He shrugged. There was a silence between you for a few seconds.

“Oh! How’s your family?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he finally realized what he was supposed to say.

“Umm… they’re fine.” You tried to keep your smile alive but you could feel it fall.

“Did I… say something?” He asked, noticing your change in mood.

“No, no, you’re fine.” You said. “You didn’t say anything.”

“What’s got you all sad then?” He asked, bringing an arm around your shoulders momentarily in a half-hug.

“My father’s overseas, he’s been in France for a while now and we haven’t heard from him in weeks. I mean it’s much more peaceful there now, I know, but- I’m sorry I’m talking too much.” You said.

“It’s okay. You have a lot to say and I’m willing to listen.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

“It’s nothing really.” You shrugged. “I’m just worried about him.”

“And you have every right to be.” Philip said. A silence dragged on between you for a few seconds.

“Hey, do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” He asked. “My mom’s been cooking a lot and I’m almost positive she’ll have extra food.”

“I would love to.” You said. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “You’ll be at my house around six?”

“See you then.” You answered.

“(Y/N)!” Eliza gushed, pulling open the door.

“Hi!” You greeted, hugging her. Philip materialized next to his mother faster than you would’ve thought possible.

“I thought I heard your voice.” He grinned. Your family had been close with the Hamilton’s for several years now, you’d grown up with Philip. Unfortunately that made it even worse when you fell head over heels for him.

“Come in, come in.” Eliza dragged you inside.

“Hey I’m gonna go for a quick walk. (Y/N), you wanna come?” Philip asked after everyone had finished eating.

“Sure.” You stood up and followed him to the door. The moon shone down on the path ahead of you as you held Philip’s arm.

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner.” You broke the silence. He nodded.

“Hey (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Yeah?” You asked turning your head to look at him. “I uh… I… God. It’s so easy for me to hit on a girl I meet walking down the street then you show up and suddenly I’m helpless.” He shook his head, chuckling at himself.

“W-What?” You stuttered. This has to be another dream. You told yourself, he’s got to be talking about something else. He pulled you to a stop and turned to face you.

“I… (Y/N), I…” He tried again. “I really like you.”

“L-like… as a friend?”

“Do you think I’d be acting like this if I meant it that way?” He gave you a sheepish smile.

“I have to be dreaming again.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Look, I get it if you don’t feel like that, but if that’s the case can we just forget about this?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

“What?” His jaw dropped so fast it nearly hit the ground. There was a beat of silence when everything around you seemed to freeze, like the string of time had suddenly been caught and you and Philip were the only ones aware of it. You took simultaneous steps toward one another and you lips met. His hand cupped your cheek and yours rested on his hip. His thumb gravitated to your lips after you pulled away, his index finger curled around your chin and your foreheads rested against each other. It was even better than you’d always imagined.


Gif source:  Chekov

Imagine something happens to you and Chekov being worried.

——— Request for galacticspock ———

Chekov was shaking, but still managing to keep up with the Captain’s orders on the bridge. Just knowing you were lying in medley after what had happened and that he couldn’t leave the bridge to go and check on you was killing him. Were you okay? He didn’t know, and he was having a hard time accepting that he had to leave you in the hands of Doctor McCoy, despite knowing they were capable hands.

Sulu leans towards Chekov, keeping his voice low as he breaks him from his worries, “Hey, she’ll be okay.”

Scorched_ El Diablo X Reader

@wonderlust–wonderland asked: Could you write an El Diabloxreader where the reader is a little kinky and enjoys getting minor burns when things get heated, but when the funs done they’re still hella tender. 

 Jenn’s Note: Of course I can sugar cube. Here you are and I apologize for taking so long. 

 Word count: 335

 Disclaimer: I own nothing bit the plot. 

 Warnings: Mentions of fun times, all SFW though. 

 Everything was perfectly euphoric. The two of you a tangle of bare limbs covered only by a thin sheet. Anything more would be too hot. From where you laid with your head on his chest you could feel his heard racing and yours was most certainly doing the same. You smiled up at him, kiss swollen lips and all. He leaned towards you and mumbled something, softly, in Spanish. 

“I have known idea what you just said.” You whispered “, but it sounded like a compliment.” You turned around in his arms and pressed a kiss to your devil’s tattooed nose. 

“And if it wasn’t? Maybe I just called you a fish.” Diablo teased, smirking playfully. 

 You clutched your chest in mock hurt “You would never!” 

“Are you sure, pescado?” 

“Dia.” You whined, moving to straddle him lazily. 

“Problem, pescado?” 

“Yeah, you talk too much.” with that you gave Diablo a kiss, slow and loving, He kissed back with just as emotion. Instinctively his hands drifted up your thighs. Suddenly you hissed and pulled back. 

“Amor?” Diablo’s hypothetical eyebrows furrowed in worry. You looked down and saw the angry red hand shaped marks on your hips. You giggled, brushing his hands away.

”It’s nothing.” 

“I ain’t so sure pollito.” 

“Oh relax, you know I love it when you do that. You react the same way afterwards every time, Diablo.” You never called him Chato, that’s who he was before. Not anymore though. He was a different man now. 

“But Y/N…”

“But nothing. I’m not a doll.” You said softly, looking him straight in his black rimmed eyes. 

“Yes you are, but you ain’t no one’s doll but mine.” He replied, rolling the both of you onto your sides, he pulled you against his chest. You smiled when you felt his nose nuzzling into your scalp. He flicked off the lamp and pulled the sheet back over you. 

“Te amo.” he said, just as you started to drift to sleep. 

“I love you too.” you murmured back. 


A Tipsy Chat

A short drabble about a slightly tipsy and very cuddly Chat Noir. 

“Chat, are you okay?” Ladybug asked, as Chat Noir missed his third jump in a row. They had just started patrol and he seemed kind of … off.

He looked at her, looked down, and frowned, concentrating. “I think I need to take a moment.” He sat down on the roof and she swung over to join him.

“You look tired.” She sat down next to her partner and put a hand on his forehead. “Are you sick?”

He laughed. “No, not sick.” He leaned toward her and lay his head on her shoulder. “I might be just a teeny tiny little bit drunk.” He whispered, nuzzling her shoulder before she pushed him away.

“Drunk?” She sighed. “Seriously?”

Keep reading

Things I didn’t notice the first time watching eyewitness: after saying ‘you’re awesome, I mean, you’re amazing’ Lukas leans towards Philip a little bit, as if he wanted to kiss him and then just couldn’t go through with it?
Am I the only one who’s noticed it??

anonymous asked:

Do you think Toffee only kidnapped Marco to use him as leverage to get Star to destroy the wand, or do you think he has bigger plans for him? I'm leaning towards the latter considering he called Marco "a disappointment", meaning he sees potential in him. And if that's the case, do you think Toffee knows about the monster arm?

It’s clearly speculation only so far, but I agree. I don’t really have any explanation, though. He might want to use him in the future, he might want to try to get him on his side, maybe he was just disappointed in seeing what kind of dork “The daughter of the fierce Queen who defeated him chose as her companion”.
Or maybe he was just really proud of the sandwich he made him and was saddened by the waste of food.

anonymous asked:

Do nonbinary identities count as trans (as an umbrella term)?? Because I'm genderfluid but I mainly lean towards he/him when my assigned gender is female. I get dysphoria and often relate to/reblog trans boy posts and I'd consider transitioning, Idk?


Nonbinary people can absolutely claim the trans label as ours if we want to.

Anyone who isn’t cis can call themselves trans. And nonbinary people fall into the not-cis category.

Small Imagine with Shannon

Imagine: Shannon pretending to yawn but puts his arms around you instead. You look at him with a smile, he gave you a wink (which we know he can’t do but whateves) you giggled, turned your head away to watch the movie. Shannon stares at you while you watch the scene. He gently cups your face, turning your head towards him, he leans in for a kiss. His mouth covered yours in a searing kiss. He devoured, consumed, possessed. You opened to him, accepting the hungry thrust of his tongue, which delivered the taste of coffee and the heat of his need in a devastating dance of seduction. You weakened in seconds. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the hungry sound. You break the kiss. “Shannon, Jared might hear us. He’s sleeping in the guest room beside us.” He sent you a wicked smile, biting his lower lip. “He can sleep through anything. Don’t worry about him.” He continued with the kiss. His left hand slowly makes it’s way down to your knee. He slides his hand up your thigh, under your dress. With his fingers, he grabs hold of  the tiny fabric of your panty, he starts to slide it down. You lift your ass to help him. Your panty makes it to your ankles. You kick them off. You put one leg on each side of his hips. You start to grind against his hard erection against his jeans, that is begging to come out to play. You bring your hands towards his waist line. You unfasten the jean button, unzip his pants. Shannon lifted his ass to allow his boxers and pants to go down to his shin. “You wet for me babygirl?” Biting your lip, you nodded. Shannon grabbed his cock in his hand and guide it in your wet folds. You moan at the contact of his head sliding in. “Open up for me, take a deep breath in,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, you took a deep breath in, he slide his whole length in. You let out a loud moan. “OMG Shannon!” “Ride me baby-girl.” You’d never taken a man this big, this deep. You could feel him in the back of your tonsils. The width of him stretched you until your flesh burned. That hint of pain fueled something inside you. your blood raced, perspiration burst across your skin. “More Shannon,” you demand “Please.” you whimper in his ear. Without warning, he withdrew nearly all the way,then eased back in, much gentler than before. The pain faded, but it had charged up the tissues in your sex as never before. You swore you could feel ever inch, every vein, of his cock rasping across suddenly sensitive flesh inside you. Jared brought agonizing pleasure with every slow thrust, every rub of the swollen head of his cock right over the flesh inside that had you gasping. Gasping, burning need took over, receding everything but the feel of him, you need him. You tried to hold on, hold out against the pleasure threatening to sweep away your sanity. But with those words and the next hard stroke of his cock, orgasm engulfed you like a raging hurricane, swift, strong, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. “Shannon!” you screamed, nails biting into his shoulders. With your scream ringing in his ears, Shannon surged into the silken heaven of your pussy one more time and lost control of the orgasm he held onto by a bare thread. The explosion originated low in his belly, driving pleasure out through his cock. It burst out across his body, saturating bliss everywhere. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. His toes tingled. The pulses of you’s second climax fluttered around him, milking him of every last drop of semen, leaving heavy satisfaction in your wake. Your eyes closed trying to catch your breath, you leaned back face him. He smile “I love you babygirl.” You kissed his lips, “I love you Shannon.” With his arms, he picked you up (your legs still wrapped around him) and he carried you to bed. You giggled at him, his pants where still around his ankles.


anonymous asked:

I can see N's kids doing things to help him better integrate into human society. Like giving him a haircut for starters.

I honestly feel like Hilbert would be the more likely one to help him with integrating, since by the time the kids are old enough to possibly help, I would think he would be pretty well integrated.  Or at least as well integrated as he’s likely to be!

I personally headcanon that for the most part, N ends up learning how to better integrate into human society by himself.  During the two years he spent traveling before coming back to Unova in B2W2, he learned a lot about not just himself, but also about how people relate and interact with both each other and Pokemon.  He travels around from town to town, watching how people interact as well as interacting with them himself.  Sometimes he’ll travel with random people he meets along the way for a few days.  Sometimes he’ll avoid people all together and spend time in the wilderness talking to the wild Pokemon.  Through all of this he slowly starts to expand his view of the world, and after two years of this, he’s a bit ashamed to think back at how he use to think.  He’s learned so much from traveling, and while he realizes he still has a long way to go, he finds himself wanting to travel back to Unova to find Hilbert.  As the person who was the catalyst to him having second thoughts about his world-view, he wants to find Hilbert to tell him about all the things he’s learned.  Tell him about all the amazing people and Pokemon he’s met while traveling, and most of all thank him for being the one to first show him this.

While Hilbert still helps him once they reunite, for the most part, N’s the one who helps himself.  Or I suppose you can look at it that, in a way, everyone he meets helps him integrate.  It’s through him observing and interacting with other people and Pokemon that he slowly becomes more integrated into human society.

As for the haircut, it’s honestly a toss-up whether he cuts his hair short or not, as I like it both ways.  I like the idea of him keeping his hair long so small Pokemon can nest in it (plus I think he always remains a bit negligent with his appearance), but I also like him cutting his hair to show that he’s trying to change who he was before.  Sort of like cutting away the old him and wanting to start fresh in his relationship with Hilbert once they’re reunited.

sum wc gender/sexuality headcanons bc fuck dude these used to be fun so imma list all of mine rn:

  • darkstripe is a bisexual trans boy; he’s got a huge preference for big and strong ppl
  • mapleshade is a lesbian trans girl
  • tawnypelt is a bisexual trans girl, but she has a preference for mollies
  • ivypool is a nonbinary wlw and uses she/her and he/his depending on how she’s feelin that day
  • blossomfall is a lesbian trans girl
  • ravenpaw is a trans and uses they/them mostly, but doesnt mind he/his 
  • tigerstar is nonbinary (bigender) and has a heavy leaning towards being feminine but still uses he/him for comfort/convenience
  • graystripe is bisexual af
  • firestar + sandstorm are both trans and bisexual (yes that means firestar gave birth to leafpool & squirrelflight get w it)
  • squirrelflight is bisexual and trans; daisy was a surrogate for alderpaw & sparkpaw
  • hollyleaf is a lesbian trans girl
  • willowshine is a nonbinary wlw
  • breezepelt is nonbinary and uses he/his and they/them interchangeably
  • tallstar is a nonbinary mlm, jake is bisexual af
  • sharptooth, the mountain lion who attacked the tribe, is a lesbian trans girl asjkdsld
Start A War - Steve Rogers x Reader

Requested by anon

Originally posted by slayalec

Steve pressed his lips against yours, a featherlight touch. You leaned towards him and he smiled, applying more pressing. Your lips moved in sync with his, Steve’s hands holding yours romantically.

“Get out.” You heard your dad’s voice behind you.


Steve stepped away from you, not letting go of your hand however. His cheeks had gone red but he was trying to hide it.

“Tony.” He nodded, you turned to give your dad an innocent smile but his gaze was fixed sternly on Steve.

Tony sighed, running a hand down his face. “I swear to god Rogers, if you ever hurt my daughter I will personally freeze you myself and you’ll have to adapt to the next century.”

“Understood.” Steve nodded.

Tony sighed again, “And if she winds up pregnant-”


“I swear, Steve, if you get her pregnant-”

“Nothing of the sort is happening until after marriage Tony, I promise.” Steve said, squeezing your hand gently.

Tony nodded, “It’s too early in the day for this. You kids have fun. But not too much fun or-”

“Capsicle. Got it.”

Tony left the room and you turned back to Steve.

“Hey, it could have gone worse.” You said with a shrug, “At least he didn’t start a war.”


Imagine Jack Harkness asking you out.

You blushed bright red as the man pulled you against him, one arm snugly around your waist. He leaned towards you, “I like to think of myself as a criminal,” his tone was low and sultry and your flush deepened.

“I bet you do,” you laughed nervously, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. You had zero experience with this sort of thing. You had never been in a relationship before. You couldn’t even remember a time when someone had paid this much attention to you, flirting or otherwise. You were totally out of your element alongside someone who practically exuded confidence.

Jack continued to dance slowly, his body warm against yours. Your face must have been bright red as you tried to mirror his movements awkwardly. He leaned down so his lips hovered by your ear, hot breath raising goosebumps across your flesh, “Feeling shy?”

You drew a shuddering breath, butterflies filling your stomach, “Maybe a little bit.”

“Maybe we should get to know each other better. How does dinner sometime sound?”

Gif Credit: Jack