and pick up on the hints

anonymous asked:

This is crazy, but I actually suspected two things from LU that actually happened: one, Marinette wouldn't be the winner and two, that she'd be picked up by an Italian designer and wind up in Italy. Literally the only reason why I guessed the second one was because of that post you made with Adrien teaching Marinette Italian phrases lol.

Hahaha yes! That post was my big hint towards what was coming. ;)

Sheriff Knows Best

Stiles/Derek, G, 2K words, Sheriff POV, Coffeeshop AU, matchmaker!Sheriff

(Credit for the title to @cobrilee!)

This is an expansion of the following idea, written by the lovely @artemis69:

the coffee!AU, where John goes to the same coffee shop every day, and there is this very grumpy, quiet barista that always makes him amazing coffee and keep the best pastries for him. And one day the Sheriff learns that Derek is the one to bake them all, so he decides: this will be my son in law, I need a reason to have this man in my family for at least forty to fifty years. Then he matchmakes with no subtility whatsoever, basically offering his only son on a silver plate, Stiles spluttering all the way (but he takes Derek’s number anyway because the guy is just amazingly cute)

John’s on his regular morning stroll when he stops in his tracks and takes in the brand-new coffee shop, complete with a banner advertising their opening day. The little corner space has been boarded up for over a year, and John had no idea it was opening today.

Any new businesses are a boon for Beacon Hills, especially family-run ones like this one is rumored to be, so John ducks inside. It’s warm and homey, and there’s a pair of young dark-haired people behind the counter, close enough in features that they’re probably siblings. The quiet bickering points that direction, too.

They stop, though, when they see the Sheriff—the uniform tends to have that effect—and he pastes on his public servant smile. “Hi there. I saw this place was open and wanted to come on in and introduce myself. Sheriff John Stilinski.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” the woman says, holding out her hand for a shake. A nice strong grip—John likes this girl already. “I’m Laura Hale, and I own this place with my brother Derek, our resident grumpy barista-slash-baker.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Laura, but his smile to John is genuine, if small. “Hi, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, son,” he says, perusing the case full of tempting sugary treats. “You made these?”

He nods. “Can I get you anything?”

John hums. “A medium coffee, and…any one of these delicious-looking goodies. You pick. Just don’t tell my son,” he adds, and Derek looks up at him.

“Your son?”

“I have slightly elevated cholesterol,” he says, stressing the word. “Nothing to worry about, honestly. But he polices my diet. I don’t think he knows about this place yet, though, so this is great.”

Derek hums. His tongs hover over a muffin—lemon poppyseed, it looks like—before moving to another one. Raspberry-almond, according to the sign, and well, John isn’t picky. Derek drops it into a little bag and hands it over.

“Happy to help,” he says.

John thanks him and opens the bag. Laura’s still pouring his coffee, but it smells so damn good that he can’t resist.

“Wow,” he says, his mouth full. “This is delicious.”

Derek looks quietly proud, and Laura claps him on the shoulder as she reaches over to hand John his coffee. “On the house, today, Sheriff,” she says. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises.


“Thanks, Nina,” John says dryly, leaning back so she can put his plate in front of him.

“You’re welcome, Sheriff,” she says with a friendly smile, ignoring his stink eye.

Stiles just grins at both of them and digs into his French toast. He insists on having their weekly father-son breakfast at Paulie’s Diner because no matter what John orders, Nina will only bring him an egg-white omelet with a dry English muffin. Stiles must have some serious blackmail or be paying her off somehow, and John is, he has to admit, grudgingly impressed.

“Don’t look so bummed out, Pops,” Stiles says, around a mouthful of what’s surely syrup-drenched deliciousness. “At least I let you have turkey bacon.”

“It’s not the same,” he says grumpily, poking at it. “But at least I’m getting a steady stream of baked goods now.”

Stiles glares at him. “Are you serious? From where? I thought I had paid everyone off.”

He knew it. “I’m not telling you,” he says, a little displeased with how childish he sounds.

“Fine,” Stiles says, sniffing. “I’ll figure it out, you know I will.”

He will, John knows. Goddamn, he loves his kid, even if his life goal seems to be depriving John from any and all delicious food. “And speaking of, I met someone the other day,” he starts, and Stiles gasps theatrically, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Is this you crapping all over my dream of having Melissa as my stepmom?”

John sighs at the reminder. Melissa is…well, she seems happy with that Argent guy. Whatever. He’s not bitter.

“Not for me, Jesus,” he says, shaking his head. “For you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, slumping back in the booth. “Eye roll” is too mild, John thinks. It’s more of a whole head roll. “Seriously, Dad, I’m only 25. You don’t have to marry me off quite yet. You’ll get your grandchildren someday, I promise. Stop trying to set me up with people.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful!” John protests. “He seems nice.”

And makes really good treats, he adds in his head. That’ll be a good trait for a son-in-law.

“And who exactly is he?”

John pauses. “I met him at the aforementioned undisclosed location.” 

Stiles snorts. “Find out if he actually likes dudes, then get back to me.”

“Okay,” he says seriously, and Stiles grimaces.

“No, Dad, don’t actually—”

Keep reading

2

Kara had stopped by Lena’s office earlier to host an interview, but after being stuck at her desk all afternoon, Lena offered to go out for lunch. Kara happily obliged, responding with her carefree smile and glittering eyes. The way Kara’s eyes landed on her made her feel like she was being seen. For a moment, she felt like she could be herself, human. She loved how Kara was able to stir her cold heart.

Kara let out a hearty laugh over a joke Lena told about Snapper; Lena brushing her hair back, thinking how she really went a bit too far this time. Her arm fell back at her side, only to brush hands against Kara’s. Lena glanced over at Kara, who didn’t seem to notice before looking back at how close her hand was. With hesitation, she began to reach out before pulling back, realizing how absurd it would be. Sure, Lena may have feelings for the reporter before her, but to ruin the one friendship she had, she’d rather protect it than feeling alone again. Lena let out a soft sigh of despair.

Kara, having superhearing was able to pick up on Lena’s sigh and looked over to the beautiful woman walking besides her. She had felt the warmth of her hand hovering besides her and put two-and-two together before it clicked.

“Lena?” Kara questioned with raised eyebrows.

Lena glanced over with a small smile, hints of sadness in her eyes, “What is it?”

“Give me your hand,” she replied with an outstretched hand, a wide smile on her lips. Lena does what she’s told with confusion her face.

Kara took her hand and held her by the pinky. Lena felt her face flush and bit her lower lip as she felt her heart skip a beat.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to hold hands with you, Lena,” she brightly smiled. Lena never felt more alive.

Some thoughts on the Maheswaran mother-daughter relationship

Connie looked so much like Dr. Maheswaran in this episode.

It’s adorable because in the canon time of the show, she’s picked up on her mother’s mannerisms in the way that a decade of living with her did not. It’s shows how much they’ve grown together as a family, and how their relationship has changed.

Considering this was how she looked in her first appearance:

There’s a marked change not only in design but also in her expressions.

And it’s been hinted at before, but in this scene, she so explicitly worries about her mother the way her mother worries about her. It’s very touching, especially because we know they started out caring about each other but not understanding one another. Because you  can love someone and never try to understand them. It leads to a lot of conflict but both parties can still come out of it feeling like they did what was “best” for the other.

Connie used to think it was better that her mother knew nothing so the latter wouldn’t worry about her. And Dr. Maheswaran wanted to be on top of everything so that Connie would have an easier life. 

What we learn from them is that to be able to love someone better, we open up to them and let them open up to us. Connie used to act as though her parents were infallible, or at the least, able to manage themselves. Over time, and in this episode, she’s shown to be worried about them because she knows they’re human beings too. They can get hurt, make mistakes, and put themselves in danger.

Knowing these things puts the other person in perspective. It makes their place in our lives mean more. And it makes it harder to take the people we love for granted.

So I would say Connie and her mother interact a lot more now. They probably talk about each other’s days. Notice how even Dr. Maheswaran talked about everything that happened to her prior to picking Connie up. She believed her daughter deserved an explanation. And that’s a far cry from the mother who would proudly bring out the “Because I said so,” and “We’re doing this because we love you,” cards in Fusion Cuisine.

Not everyone has this experience with their parents. Sometimes things just happen to drive parents and children apart. But in their case it worked out, and now they each have one more person who will always be there for them.

When Connie told her mother that Steven just came from outer space, there was no incredulous reaction. Only an, “Oh?” in an interested and calm tone. 

They’re both trying. And I’m certain they still have their share of disagreement, but it’s dealt with in a much healthier way now.

Roommates (M)

Originally posted by bwipsul

╳ Pairing: Jimin x Reader 

╳ Genre: (one shot) smut and kinda fluff & angst ??

╳ Summary: Being roommates with your best friend can be fun until one day you look at him differently. 

(this is something that I found that I had written months ago and just decided to post it!!)


The day you looked at your best friend as more than a friend, you knew you were screwed. It happened out of nowhere. You just woke up one morning and looked at him differently. You were never going to tell anyone, you weren’t stupid. That would just lead to Jimin being freaked out and nothing being the same. Risking your friendship with Jimin was not worth the little crush you had on him.

Deciding that you couldn’t fall back asleep, you got up to start the morning. Walking into the kitchen to get some breakfast, you didn’t notice your best friend standing there.

“Holy shit! Jimin, you scared me!” You yelled, clutching your chest.

“What’s gotten you so jumpy?” Jimin asks, laughing while opening the refrigerator

Keep reading

And I Drove You Crazy (Bucky Barnes x Reader) One Shot ❤

A/N: hey y'all! This is most likely the most sinful thing I’ve ever written. I had to take some breaks while writing 😂 but this is dedicated to the lovely, super awesome @diving-down-to-wonderland for her birthday! (HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY HUN!) I hope you like it! ❤❤❤
- Delilah ❤

And I Drove You Crazy: Reader’s bike needs to be repaired asap, leading her to come across an insanely gorgeous mechanic whom she may or may not want to bang the second she lays eyes on him.

Warnings: SMUT! Semi-Public sex. Unprotected sex.

Keep reading

Church Boys Moan Louder

THIS WAS A PROMPT BUT I FUCKED UP AND ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT EARLY SO NOW ITS GONE FOREVER IM SORRY ANON BUT I STILL WANTED TO FINISH IT SO YE the prompt was basically innocent religious dan and phil like pines after him ; ending in sex in church bathroom and yes, you are going to hell

it’s also really long oops

~

Phil was fucking screwed. Never had he wanted someone so bad as he wanted Dan Howell. That boy fucked with his head and his body and his life. And he wasn’t even TRYING.

If he was trying, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. Dan seemed completely oblivious to Phil’s attempts to win him over. The light blush on his cheeks said otherwise, but Dan ignored it completely. Dan was the goddamn priests son, but Phil liked a challenge. And this definitely was one.

Phil took another sip of the dumb nonalcoholic punch they were serving, scowling at the plastic cup. He shouldn’t be here, at this dumb church party, he didn’t have to be. It was optional, unlike the weekly services he was required to attend due to his parents getting pissed that he had defiled the school with graffiti yet again. It wasn’t that bad, he got to see Dan at least. But the only reason he was here was for him.

“Hey,” a girl spoke, interrupting Phil’s thoughts. He turned to look at her, scanning her blonde hair and plaid school uniform. Who wears a uniform to a party? Church kids, Phil figured.

“Uh, hey,” Phil responded, sounding completely uninterested, but she didn’t take a hint.

“Fun party, huh?”

Phil raised his eyebrows at her, chuckling, pulling a flask out of his leather jacket pocket and tipping the clear liquid into the cup.

“No, not particularly.”

She seemed a bit put off by that, but bounced back quickly.

“So, do you know anyone here?” She asked, her voice light and Phil swore he heard a hint of flirtiness in her tone

Phil chuckled, his eyes glinting.

“Look, sorry honey, but if you’re trying to get in my pants you might as well give up now. I like cock, dunno if your tiny brain can wrap itself around that, but the only reason I’m here is that I want to fuck Dan Howell.” He casually picked at a black nail, flashing her a tight lipped smile. “So, if you still want to bother me after that, feel free. But I’m gay as hell. Just saying.”

The girl stared at him, her eyes wide and her jaw practically hitting the ground. Phil chuckled. He loved doing that.

She let out a small squeak, whirling on her heel and rushing off. Phil shook his head.

Phil cursed under his breath as he watched her beeline straight to Dan and his group of friends at the other side of the room. Phil couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she pointed at him less than subtly. A blush appeared immediately on Dan’s face, a hand going to cover his mouth automatically. He said something, and glanced over at Phil. Phil winked, waving. Might as well commit.

Dan blushed harder, looking away immediately and pressing his hands to his clearly heated cheeks. Phil smirked. He loved how much of an affect this had on him. He was so responsive.

Phil would just have to wait until he was alone.


~


It was about half an hour of boredom and wanting to leave later when Dan’s friends started to leave one by one, and Phil watched them almost hungrily until the only one left was the girl who had talked to him.

Phil moved along the wall a little closer, straining to hear their conversation. He couldn’t hear her but he heard Dan say “Silvia, I’m fine, I’m just gonna help clean up. I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with walking home alone?”

“Of course. It’s just a few blocks over.” He offered her a soft smile, touching her shoulder, and Phil’s heart swelled. Damn it. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see you at school, alright?”

“Alright…” she agreed hesitantly, going on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, rushing out of the room.

And then it was only them.

Dan cleared his throat, his cheeks beginning to redden again. “So, um, do you want to help clean up, or…”

Phil recognized the opportunity he was offering, and took it. “Yeah, sure. I’d say you’ll probably need a hand.”

Phil helped Dan fold chairs, watching him the whole time while Dan avoided his eyes.

“You look nice,” Dan commented, just being polite, but Phil snorted.

“Are you kidding? I’m wearing rags compared to you. Seriously, who wears a tie to a party in a church basement?”

Dan blushed even harder, glancing down at the black tie fastened neatly around his neck.

“Me, I guess,” he muttered, laughing awkwardly.

“Was that your girlfriend?” Phil blurted.

Dan looked at him then, eyes wide. “Who, Silvia?”

Phil nodded, and Dan laughed. Like, really laughed.

“No!” He exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s my cousin!”

Now Phil laughed too, pushing his hair back until it sat in a quiff above his forehead.

“Oh Jesus,” he muttered. “Well, thank god.”

He expected Dan to just brush off his comment like he always did, change the subject, look away, something. He didn’t.

“Why’s that?” He asked softly, pressing his lips together and searching Phil’s face. “Why are you relieved?”

Phil shrugged, tossing a plastic cup at the trash and making it. “Because if you were with anyone else, I’d be upset.”

He glanced at Dan, smirking at the way his eyes had widened and his mouth had fallen open just slightly.

“W-Why?” Dan asked again, biting his lip and turning back to the plates he was stacking.

“Because I like you.” He shrugged, casual. “I wanna make you mine, and if people are interfering, that’s a problem, isn’t it baby boy?”

A small gasp escaped Dan’s mouth at the nickname, and Phil smirked.

“Silvia… Silvia said you…” he trailed off, chewing on his lip, his eyebrows furrowed. Phil took this opportunity to step closer.

“That I want to fuck you?” Phil asked, finishing the sentence, and Dan tensed up.

“Yeah…” he muttered, practically a whisper.

“Well, it’s not a lie.” Phil glanced at him, searching his face before turning back to the chair he was folding up. “I’ve been hitting on you for the last month, you didn’t notice?”

Dan shook his head, avoiding his gaze, and they were quiet for a moment.

“You ever kissed a boy?”

“What?!” Dan spluttered, his cheeks redder than Phil had thought possible. “N-No, of course not, I… I couldn’t.”

Phil turned to look at him, frowning, turning his whole body this time so he was facing him.

“Why not?”

Dan faced him too, at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing.

“I mean, I s-suppose I could but… I CAN’T. That… that’s…” he trailed off, and Phil stepped forward so he was only inches away. Dan froze, but didn’t move away.

He trailed a finger up Dan’s jaw slowly and Dan swallowed, shivering, watching its progress. “You never know if you like something until you try it, right?”

“Well I suppose, but…” Dan gasped as Phil grabbed his tie, wrapping it around his hand and pulling Dan closer.

“But?”

“But…” Dan looked like his mind was going fuzzy, glancing down at the tie that Phil was holding him by and back up at Phil’s eyes, and then his lips. “I’m not gay,” he practically squeaked, his voice small.

“You never know if you like something unless you try it,” Phil repeated, slowly touching Dan’s waist with the hand that wasn’t gripping his tie. Dan didn’t move an inch as Phil leaned over, pressing his lips against Dan’s.

Phil waited a second to make sure Dan wasn’t going to pull away before reaching up to touch Dan’s chin, really kissing him. He dragged his tongue along Dan’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, rather surprised when he actually opened his mouth.

He could feel Dan’s hands shaking as they moved up Phil’s chest, sliding over his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. Phil gripped his waist, pulling him as close as possible. With one hand he tangled his fingers in Dan’s hair, kissing him deeper. He tasted like awful punch and fruit gum, and Phil was sure he tasted like cigarettes, but Dan didn’t seem to mind.

Phil backed him against the wall, kissing him hotly and letting his hands roam Dan’s body. He moved his mouth to Dan’s jaw, kissing down to his neck and nipping at the pale skin. Dan whimpered, moaning softly and tangling his fingers in Phil’s hair.

“Ah-” Dan gasped, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Phil…”

Phil pulled back, pressing his forehead against Dan’s and breathing heavily.

“Is there somewhere we could go?” Phil breathed, and he promised himself if Dan said no, or didn’t get the hint, he would give up. Dan’s brown eyes blinked at him.

“Just one…”

They ended up in the boy’s bathroom, Phil roughly shoving him against the wall and kissing him possessively. Dan whined into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Phil’s neck and clinging to him desperately.

Phil grabbed Dan’s thigh, hooking his leg around his waist and Dan took the hint, hopping up and wrapping his legs around Phil’s waist. Phil went back to his neck, trailing sloppy kisses down to his collarbone.

He unbuttoned Dan’s shirt, loosening and removing his tie before kissing him again. He let Dan push off his leather jacket and tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

Phil’s hands explored Dan’s chest, pinching one of his nipples, and Dan gasped.

“Phil…” he moaned, an indirect beg for more. Phil palmed at his bulge, feeling Dan grind against his hand desperately.

Phil picked him up, spinning them around and setting him down on the counter, tugging at the button of Dan’s black jeans. Once he got them off he flipped Dan over after pressing a kiss to his jaw, bending him over the counter.

“I’m guessing you’ve never done this with a guy before,” Phil muttered, smoothing his hand over the curve of Dan’s ass and squeezing roughly. Dan jumped.

“N-No…”

Phil kissed the nape of his neck, pressing himself against Dan’s body. “Are you sure you want to?”

Dan let out an almost desperate gasp, his voice breaking. “Yes, yesyesyes, god just please… p-please fuck me, Phil, want you.”

Phil grunted, slapping Dan’s thigh sharply. “Jesus, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

Phil took no time removing his jeans, tugging down Dan’s boxers as well, grinding his still clothed bulge against Dan’s ass. Dan moaned, reaching back and grabbing Phil’s hips, pulling him closer.

Phil’s boxers were off in a second as well, skin rubbing against skin. Dan pushed his ass back; he was a needy bottom and Phil fucking loved it.

Phil held two fingers to Dan’s mouth, motioning for him to open. Dan sucked on the fingers obediently, slicking them up with spit.

“This might hurt a little,” Phil muttered, rubbing Dan’s entrance with one finger. “Tell me to stop if you need to, alright?”

“Mhm,” Dan agreed, pushing his ass back again. Phil slapped it and Dan yelped, pulling forward again.

“Don’t be a needy bitch, Dan,” Phil growled, pushing the first finger into Dan slowly. Dan moaned.

“S-Sorry, sir-” he gasped.

Phil took his time stretching him; considering it was his first time he didn’t want it to hurt too bad. Dan flinched away at first but soon he was whining and grinding back on Phil’s digits. Phil moaned just at the sight, he never thought he’d have him like this.

Finally he pulled out, holding his hand up to Dan’s face again and instructing him to spit. Dan did as he said, and Phil slicked himself up with that as well as precum that was already forming on the head of his swollen cock.

“Ready?” He breathed, pressing his whole body against Dan’s and leaning over him to kiss his neck. Dan whined.

“Yes, yes sir, please, I’m ready, I need you.”

Phil hummed in approval; he loved how quickly Dan had changed from a good little church boy to a desperate slut with just a little kissing.

Phil pushed in slowly, taking his time in edging into Dan, which took an incredible amount of self control on his part. Finally he bottomed out, kneading Dan’s ass in his hands. Dan was a mess beneath him, whining and whimpering at every movement, conflicted between pushing back and pulling away.

Phil reached up, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair, giving it a soft tug and driving a whimper out of Dan’s pretty mouth.

He began to thrust, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in slowly, Dan gasping every time he did so. Phil snapped his hips roughly without warning, thrusting hard, and Dan cried out.

“Fuck!” He practically shrieked, a loud feminine moan falling from his mouth.

“You’re a loud little slut, aren’t you?” Phil panted, groaning as he thrust roughly again. Dan let out a high pitched whine.

“Fuckfuckfuck p-please, fuck, harder…”

Phil obliged, driving his cock deeper into the whimpering boy, skin slapping on skin echoing through the room. Phil tugged on Dan’s hair again, watching his face through the mirror, and fuck he could cum just from that.

Dan’s lips were swollen, his cheeks red and flushed, his hair messy and his eyes glazed over with need. Phil groaned, snapping his hips.

Phil knew he had hit Dan’s prostate when he screamed, a loud “FUCK, PHIL” bouncing off the walls. Phil smirked, angling his thrusts to hit that spot.

“This is a sin, you know,” Phil growled, reaching up to cover Dan’s mouth with his hand as he fucked into him harder. “Such a filthy fucking sinner for me, princess, ruined on my cock.”

Dan’s desperate muffled moans against his hand were pushing him to the edge, that and his tight heat encasing Phil’s cock. Phil smirked.

“Such a pretty fucking sinner too, isn’t that right? All for me. Your tight ass is all mine, yeah?”

Dan didn’t answer, continuous moaning falling from his mouth, muffled by Phil’s hand. He just nodded frantically, his moans sounding close to sobs.

Dan came after a few more thrusts all over his stomach, white streaking the counter under him and he whimpered, now sensitive to Phil’s cock pounding into his prostate every thrust.

Phil pulled out, quickly tugging Dan to his knees in front of him, guiding his cock to his lips. Dan took it obediently, lowering himself on Phil’s length. Phil groaned, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair and fucking his throat as gently as he could. Dan gagged, digging his fingernails into Phil’s hips, and that was all it took. Phil came down his throat, keeping his cock still until he was sure Dan had swallowed all of it.

He helped Dan to his feet, holding him steady because it was clear he was close to falling over.

Dan just stared at him, stunned, watching as Phil casually got dressed. After he was clothed he cleaned Dan’s stomach and the counter with a paper towel, tossing it in the trash.

He grinned, kissing Dan’s cheek and backing towards the door, winking.

“See you next Sunday, Danny.”

Title: Armor Crafted by My Own Hand

Pairing: Prince Sidon / Link

Rating: General 

Tags: biting, kissing, fluff, confession scene, fish person loving a blondie, sweetness with a bit of bite

Summary: On a rainy, cold day, Sidon confesses his love to Link

Continue reading here or check out on AO3! Comments, reblogs, and kudos are much appreciated!

-

Lounging atop one of the watchtowers that sat at the end of the Inogo Bridge, Sidon gazed glumly at the rocky path that led away from the bridge and up into the mountains. Overhead, the sky was as grey as his mood. From that veil of grey, a heavy rain fell, turning the world into a blurred wash of blues and greens. The air was chilly but nothing his thick skin couldn’t handle. Though to anyone without tough Zora skin, it was a probably bundle yourself up and stay inside kind of temperature.

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The Foxhole Court characters as things I've said
  • Kevin Day: (after a tough bus ride) My goal tonight is to drink so much I either get alcohol poisoning or forget why I wanted to drink at all
  • Neil Josten: So, to the surprise of no one, I was lying about all of that
  • Andrew Minyard: I care more about cake than I do about any human I've ever met
  • Aaron Minyard: (after something good happened) what the fuck is this. This is suspicious as fuck, I'm calling bullshit
  • Allison Reynolds: I just realized my top motivating factors are spite and the promise of wearing cool clothes
  • Dan Wilds: Why are men so consistently gross all the time???
  • Nicky Hemmick: I think I'm a fun driver. It's like being on a rollercoaster but better bc there's an actual chance you might die.
  • Matt Boyd: I really hope all my friends know how much I care about them. I never want anyone to question where they stand with me (turns to friend) Especially you, you're the love of my life.
  • Renee Walker: (about a badger that tried to attack me) He's so cute!! And he's talented!!
  • Jean Moreau: If the world could stop being consistently awful for like 30 seconds that'd be awesome, thanks
  • Riko Moryima: The only thing we're entitled to is to die screaming
  • Bonus, Neil Josten: How do people pick up on subtext in conversations? I've never picked up on a hint ever in my life

anonymous asked:

What do you think of Harry saying SOTT is about a mom dying in childbirth. I'm just ??????? What do you think SOTT is about?

For reference:

‘Sign of the Times’ came from ‘This isn’t the first time we’ve been in a hard time, and it’s not going to be the last time.’ The song is written from a point of view as if a mother was giving birth to a child and there’s a complication. The mother is told, ‘The child is fine, but you’re not going to make it.’ The mother has five minutes to tell the child, 'Go forth and conquer.’

Harry Styles, Rolling Stone

When I read this I immediately thought he’s trying to tell us without telling us that Jay was the inspiration for SOTT and making it his lead single is a tribute to her. I mean, that’s my take on it. Makes sense to me.

She prepared her kids (which for all intents and purposes includes Harry) for her death.

Just stop your crying
It’s a sign of the times
Welcome to the final show
Hope you’re wearing your best clothes

Referencing a funeral here.

You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky
You look pretty good down here
But you ain’t really good

Understand when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go. Riches can’t save you. Your life may look great from the outside. But it’s not always as good as it looks. And those last two lines may be a reference to how shocked everyone was that young, beautiful, vivacious Jay had passed. It’s not all good in Harry’s hood, even if that’s what the tabloids and paps and gossips make it seem like.

We never learn, we’ve been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets, the bullets?
We never learn, we’ve been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets, the bullets?

We’re all whistling past the graveyard like death isn’t coming for us and our loved ones. When it comes, we’re devastated. We know it’s coming eventually, but we can’t get in the headspace of truly being ready for it. So we live on the run. Running from death. But it will catch us eventually.

Just stop your crying
It’s a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It’ll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here

To everything there is a season. The time of death is upon us. But don’t stay in this place of grief. It’s ok to move on. Keep living your life. 

Just stop your crying
Have the time of your life
Breaking through the atmosphere
And things are pretty good from here

Jay wants her kids to enjoy life, even though she’ll be gone. She’s going to a better place. No more suffering.

Remember, everything will be alright
We can meet again somewhere
Somewhere far away from here

It feels terrible now. But eventually, it’ll get better. And she’ll see them again someday. N.E.R.D.–noone ever really dies. Energy just transforms.

We don’t talk enough
We should open up
Before it’s all too much
Will we ever learn?
We’ve been here before
It’s just what we know

Don’t take your loved ones for granted. Share. Bond. Grow together. Do better. A mother’s wisdom.

I feel like this is where it was going with the dying mom comments. Of course, for many fucked up reasons, he obviously couldn’t say this was about Jay. But I think he dropped enough of a hint for us to pick up. It’s not the first hard time or the last? I think in Ever Since New York, Harry made it clear that hiding his relationship with Louis and engaging in fauxmances has been very painful for him and I’m sure for both families as well. The child is fine, but you’re not going to make it? Yep, all her kids are thankfully fine. The mother has 5 minutes to tell the child to go forth and conquer? That must have been what the last months of her life felt like–5 minutes. Not enough time. But she prepared them. God bless.   

Lock and Key (M)

*I am so tired*

Requests: Anon asked “Can you make like a dirty y/n imagine of Jimin please??” + @bangtanofarmys asked “ FUCK FUCK FUCK OMG FINALLY SOMEONE’S REQUEST IS OPEN. Ok I want to request a rough Jimin smut, with daddy kink and stuff BECAUSE IM SO TIRED OF BEING REQUESTED AND NOT REQUEST T-T “ you’re so cute wtf 

Word Count: 10.8k bc I don’t know when to stop


Another mundane day has come to pass, your best friend’s arm slung over your shoulders as you soak up the blinding sunrays on your skin. The sun pressed harsh kisses on your delicate skin, a definite burn accompanied by heavy sweating was just the peak of your day. You could barely remember the words of your professor, zoned out and ready to slump into your couch for two days.

Anthropology was fun when you still had your first year jitters, excited to be in university and getting a degree in something you loved. Now, a few weeks into your second year, you wished the years would just pass by.

Distracted by your internal monologue, you barely caught the bus on time, the driver ready to zoom through traffic and you waved your hand out wildly to catch his attention. You stumbled into a seat, the bus moving no less than a second after you got on.

Mindlessly watching the street signs while numerous people leaving and entering the bus, you get off at the stop near your house. You kick off your shoes, dropping your bag on the shoe rack and you heard a broken sob.

“Mom? Dad?” You went into the kitchen, followed by a set of sniffling before going into the living room. Your father held your mother in a consoling way, her hands clinging onto his red sweater. She grabbed a tissue and blew into it.

“Mom? Why are you crying? What happened?”

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“We were extra hard on him to toughen him up, and look what happened!”

-

Ludo is probably my favorite character in ‘Star vs The Forces of Evil’, and depending on where the writers are planning to take this, he might turn out to be the most important.

Who is Ludo?

In Season 2 of ‘Evil, the bard Ruberiot, who has vowed to sing The Truth, no matter the consequences, calls Ludo an envious jester. And yet Ludo might be the key to the core narrative of the show, and to the destiny of his entire world. 

Ludo is a fool. He is weak and stunted in every conceivable way - mentally, physically, emotionally, morally. 

In fact, one has to wonder how he even manages to be the heroine’s main antagonist at all. In Season 1, he had assembled a gang of vicious monsters and thrown his clan out of their ancestral home. Surely he must have SOME hidden talents?

In the episode ‘Ludo in the wild’, we finally learn what these are. For the first time, we really get to observe the pattern up close.

Ludo is alone. Weak, cold and hungry, surrounded by creatures much stronger and craftier than himself. 

He starts stalking them. They are kicking him around, and yet with glassy eyes, he keeps on following them into their nests, returning to their abuse like a moth to the flame. Except this particular moth is not flammable. They may feel pity for him, or disgust, but whatever he feels does not go any deeper than the most basic, ludicrous flashes of hunger, fear, pain and outrage. And… affection.

Are we starting to see how the trigger-happy warrior princess Star Butterfly might have first caught his attention? 

He’s always watching. Worming his way into his abusers’ lives, until they are becoming used to him. They think they know what their power dynamics are.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Ludo turns the tables. Perhaps even without realizing it himself, he has studied his abusers, knowing them on an intimate, if purely instinctual level.

If you are what you eat, and Ludo is all the way at the bottom of the food chain, then congratulations: Ludo is a part of you now.

Ludo’s talent is surviving abuse and mirroring his abusers (he even gets the better of Star Butterfly when he learns magic and steals her spellbook), in a twisted mockery of family relations. He did it with Arachne and the Bird (his two mothers…), the horde of rats, probably with his first troop of monsters as well. Oh yeah, and his actual family, where all of this started.

Ultimately, of course, his domain will fall apart. Once he has gathered his armies and his prizes, he hardly even knows what to do with them. All of his attempts at grandiose shemes are short-sighted and doomed to fail. As a survivor, he only lives in the moment. Easily tricked and robbed of all his achievements, or manipulated by those with much greater designs into doing their bidding. His armies of abusers are quick to turn on him again once he inevitably loses his focus, because frankly, they are not even sure why they ever… adopted him in the first place.

He has no past, and he has no future. It’s funny how he commands his army of rats to rebuild an ancient monster stronghold - ultimately doing little more than shoving debris around, before the house of cards inevitably falls apart again. In dreams and stories, houses represent your mind, your inner life. What does this ruin say about Ludo?

Ludo was the runt of the litter, and he has never grown up. Ludo is a child. Reverting again and again, repeating his cycle of survival and abandonment.  

There is a remarkable scene where the wise, ancient entity Glossaryck is trying to teach Ludo magic, and just after Ludo expressed his disappointment that convincing Glossaryck to work for him did not require torture, he immediately demands Glossaryck torture HIM. Just a couple of scenes later, he meekly asks Glossaryck to praise him, even tuck him into bed calling him “my darling”. 

Yeah, take a wild guess how those wires got crossed in Ludo’s head.

Ludo is attracted to abuse, to the abusive use of power, and abusers are attracted to him. He is the very focal point of the eponymous Forces of Evil.

Despite what you might have thought when you picked up this waaacky show, when it comes to Evil, with a capital “E”, they are being dead serious. Hint: it’s not the kind that is reliably confined to an impressive villain character, a single person or faction.

Star Butterfly will have to dip down and go deep.

As you might have guessed by now, the monsters themselves are not the Forces of Evil (though the Jury is still out on Toffee). They are the remnants of proud nations who have been decimated, robbed of their lands and pushed to the margins of civilization, many of them turning bitter and violent. 

In a way, Ludo is the ultimate monster.

And ‘Evil is his story.

The battle for the soul of that world is going to be fought inside Ludo.

Literally.

swipe right [smut]

A;N: Things and people you meet are not always what they seem. 

Pairing: StilesxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Explicit Content.

Word count: .9,612

Listen to me.

Originally posted by stilinskisvoid

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meetmyinnerdemons  asked:

Hi, I wanted to ask you if you know any fanfictions about Johnlock texting/letters/internet messages, something connected with that? :)

Hi Lovely!

I thought I didn’t have many of these, so I was so excited that I would be able to get this done in 10 minutes… it’s now 4 hours later and I finally got a rough list done for you and I STILL can’t find the one I wanted to add to this list! I’m so angry, because I THOUGHT it was an FFNet fic, but i can’t find it urg. Oh well. I hope you like what I have picked for you instead!

SEXTING / TEXTING:

  • Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2799 w, Ao3) - John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can’t find words big enough to thank her for saving John’s life at the warehouse. For afters, there’s a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of Unkissed
  • Happy anniversary by Salambo06 (E, 3772 w., Ao3) - John inhaled deeply, feeling his cock pulse under the silk gown, and he let his eyes travel on the lean body in front of him. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, their bed, and the picture had been taken so John could perfectly see his bare chest and pelvis. But what mattered most, what made John harden rather quickly, was the pair of panties Sherlock was wearing in the picture. Black, string over each hip and laces that outlined Sherlock’s erect cock barely hidden under the soft underwear.
  • A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w. Ao3) - John sank deeper into the pillows, let the mist and blur of the wine settle around him, let it shore up his nerves and dim the warning signals that flashed dully in the back of his mind. He let the rest of the disappointment about Lucy and his strange accommodations and about the weekend as a whole fade into obscurity. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes. **MUST READ**
  • Come Home by hudders-and-hiddles(E, 3763, Ao3) -  When John leaves for a medical conference, Sherlock tries to entice him back home.
  • A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb  (E, 32,690, Ao3) John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX **MUST READ**
  • The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., Ao3) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.
  • Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8737 w., Ao3) - "I am not agitated. I’m just tired of it. The insinuations, the comments, that I have no… no interest in relationships, or sex.“ John and Sherlock muddle through a relationship. **FAVE!**
  • Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3218 w., Ao3)On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots. Lovely pining Sherlock fic. Love this one!
  • Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., Ao3)Throughout his life, Sherlock Holmes has always taken facts and held them close like treasures, because in a world of complex emotions, unpredictability, and the unknown, logic has never failed him. Puzzles can always be solved and equations will always have an answer; he seeks and finds comfort in the steady absolution of facts and the knowledge that everything has a definition: an unchanging, consistent meaning. However, at age thirty-five he discovers the exception to all of his neat, tidy logic when he meets John Watson, the one person who evades definition and refuses to be easily categorized—and who makes Sherlock question his own previously unshakeable ideas about everything from life to love. (Apparently a WiP, but it feel complete enough, as the “last chapter” has been waiting for over 2 years)
  • Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6090 w., Ao3) - Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to recieve pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.
  • Text Me When It’s Over by immaculately-flawed (K+, 1K+ w., FFnet) - After the fall Sherlock starts writing texts to John. Of course, he never sends them… Until he does by accident. Post Reichenbach fic but not angsty.
  • Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., ffnet) - A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.
  • Message Not Sent by Queerasil (K, 762 w. ffnet) - Sherlock texts John after the fall and during the hiatus. The messages are sent, but never received. Sequel to WORDLOCKED, TSTM, and Wait, How Do You Play This Game Again?
  • Iunctum by Fudgyokra (K, 221 w., FFNet) - He stood still for a long time, staring not so much at the words he’d been sent, but at the signature that marked them: A simple ‘SH,’ neatly tucked at the close of the words ‘I’ve missed you.’” A 221B ficlet; Sherlock’s return from the fall.
  • The Art Of Communication by StillWaters1 (T, 2K+ w., FFNet) - Lestrade was used to getting odd, non sequitur texts from Sherlock. But when “John went out for milk” was followed by a terse “two hours ago,” Lestrade immediately understood three things: John was missing, Sherlock was quietly panicking, and this could all end very, very badly.

LETTERS / EPISTOLARY

  • Letters by Jenna Flare (T, 2K+ w., FFNet) - John leaves letters on Sherlock’s grave as a method of coping. Sherlock reads them every week. Sherlock/John, John/Mary. T for swearing. Post-Reichenbach
  • Letters From Beyond by LittleBabeBlue (K, 637 w., FFNet) - A letter for John was found in Sherlock’s coat after he jumped. Post-Reichenbach.
  • Dear John by starwarsfreak95 (T, 601 w. FFNet) - Not all Dear John letters are bad. Sherlock tries to explain to John why he did what he did and how much John means to him.
  • Pen Pals by WerewolfDoctor (K, 2K w., FFNet) - Most people don’t become pen pals by one of them writing a not-suicide note. Then again, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have never exactly been normal, have they?
  • In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w., Ao3) - John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.
  • There’s Something Living in These Lines by teahigh (orphan_account) - (M, 4676 w., Ao3) - Two men, complete opposites in almost every way, who speak only in letters and pages torn from books.
  • Correspondence by Cleo2010 (T, 8031 w., Ao3) – Sherlock’s been spirited away on a case for Mycroft. Part of the deal was that he and John could communicate via letter until the case was completed. Maybe the cliche is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps something is growing on the feet in the fridge. Read their letters month by month. Written after series one.
  • White Blank Page by SarahCat1717 (M, 11,936 w., Ao3) – Post-fall, Sherlock is off eliminating Moriarty’s crime web. He finds he misses John. He can’t divulge that he still lives, but he placates his need to communicate with John and still feel a connection with him by sending him blank letters. But over time, this writing exercise lends itself to Sherlock exploring his feelings for his friend. What will happen when Sherlock returns to London and the man he has been “writing” to regularly for the past two years? NOT S3 compliant. Mary who?
  • Get It All in Writing by aceofhearts61 (T, 2423 w., Ao3) – Sherlock and John write each other love notes. Part 8 of A Love with No Name
  • and stand there at the edge of my affection by coloredink (G, 2683 w., Ao3)
  • Winter of Life by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 5178 w., Ao3) – It was an experiment, really. On Christmas, Sherlock wrote to Santa asking for a friend. He got a broken toy soldier instead. This is the story of how he finds him again and again.
  • Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 3 Parts, 30,802 w. Ao3) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.)

BLOGS / SCRAPBOOKS / JOURNALS

  • The Case of the Vanishing Blog by Hekateras (K+, 2K+ w., FFNet) - Sherlock is in it for the hunt. John is in it for the action. Even so, the events at the Pool leave a mark on both, unwilling as they are to admit it.
  • One-Way Mirror by StormyNight108 (K+, 830 w. FFNet) - Post-Reichenbach one-shot. It’s been months since the incident, where a man lost his best friend. Slowly but surely, John’s life is starting to turn up a little. That night, his blog is updated to share good news to his followers, and one anonymous commentator is quick to share his happiness. It’s about as close to his friend as he can get right now.
  • Don’t Go Without Me by MirabileLectu (T, 1K+ w. FFNet) - Deep in the recesses of the cluttered space under John’s bed, far from the prying eyes of nosy landladies, there is a box.
  • To Sleep, Perchance to Smother Your Flatmate with a Pillow by Linpatootie (G, 5308 w., Ao3) - Sherlock wants to conduct a sleep study of sorts. John contemplates smothering him with a pillow. Part 1 of Two Coffees One Black One with Sugar Please
  • Journal of Truths by Goddess_of_the_Night (T, 2317 w., Ao3) - When John escorts Sherlock back to Baker Street from the tarmac, he discovers a journal that Sherlock has kept secret…that he has kept secrets in. What he sees when he opens it is nothing like what he expected. He expected scrawling notes of observations, or maths equations, or drawings of plants…anything but what he actually finds: confessions.
  • You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., Ao3) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock’s study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn’t entirely mind.
  • Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by cypress_tree (E, 10,669 w., Ao3) – John helps Sherlock with an experiment: for an entire month, they are not allowed to touch each other and must remain at least one metre apart at all times.
  • The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst (E, 58,611 w., Ao3) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.

POST-ITS / LISTS

  • I Believe In Sherlock Holmes by Cennis (K, 2+K w., FFNet)When John came to Baker Street one Sunday about six months after the funeral and found an elegant wooden cane, expensive-looking yet sturdy, stuffed away in the shoe cupboard, he began ‘blogging’ again. It began with post-it notes. POST-FALL.
  • In case of emergency by AlessNox (K, 520 w., FFNet) - Sherlock is charged with making a list of what supplies they would need in case of an emergency.
  • The Three-Word Tin Collection by TheBookshelfDweller (K, 1K+ w., FFNet) - What happens when Sherlock has to store the things he wants to say to John while deconstructing Moriarty’s web, but the Mind palace proves an inadequate place to store them?
  • 206 Reasons by whitchry9 (K+, 1K+, FFNet) - John won’t wake up, so Sherlock lists all the reasons why he should. Because he appears to be a bit besotted. How inconvenient.
  • Because Blah Blah Blah Happy by cwb (E, 4,578 w., Ao3) – John is entirely done with the milk situation and gives Sherlock a list of shit he’s pissed about. Sherlock sets out to make John happy. John is happy. Sherlock makes his own list. They are both very, very happy.
  • The Trouble With Being Subtle. by VictoryCandescence (NR, 5429 w., Ao3) - In which Sherlock experiments, John misinterprets, and everyone else stands back and waits for the light to turn on.
  • The Importance of Torn Papers by MyLittleCornerOfSherlock (G, 2427 w., Ao3) – Little things make a big difference, even little notes of thanks. Small reminders to show he cares.
  • Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., Ao3) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness’, and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts’ now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.
  • See Recipe for Details by pandoras_chaos (E, 4,981, Ao3) – John knows Sherlock’s mouth will never water over the sweet smells of baking chocolate biscuits or a lovely roast chicken, but he’s watched Sherlock nick mince pies out of Mrs. Hudson’s fridge often enough to deduce that the man does have taste, albeit confusing and obscure.
    So John makes a list: Things Sherlock Likes

And I have a few on my Marked For Later List which also have this theme. I HAVE NOT READ THEM, so I don’t know what they are like; I was waiting for them to finish before I do. As well, Alexx has a tonne of lists you can check out too!

Harry Potter Headcanon

Even after settling into an adult life in the Wizarding World, Harry checked in on what was happening in the muggle world. He would read the news about what was going on in the world and he even ended up getting a smart phone a while after they became popular.

As the years went on, Harry noticed more and more of the muggle born students at Hogwarts were looking for ways to get internet at Hogwarts. Now it was against the rules for Professor Potter to assist them in their schemes but, that didn’t stop him from dropping hints in class or leaving books open to the right spells.

Once some of the students begun to get wifi working, it spread quickly through the whole school. Beginning with the muggle born students and it didn’t take long for the rest to pick it up.

At first most professors were annoyed with students trying to sneak iPhones into class but, most came around to the muggle technology when Harry set them up with an emailing system making it easier to share lesson plans and cat videos.

While Kaneki’s dream date with Rize was a bookstore date since they had similar taste and shared a love of literature:

What if Haise’s ideal date with Touka would have been to visit cafes together because of… well… coffee?

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Committed The Robbery

Pairing: Y/N/Gangmember!Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Request: Yes

Words: 3.000+

Summary: On a scale from 1 to shit, how fucked would Ashton be if he ended up banging the other gangmember Luke’s little sister Y/N?

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Mad: Part 16 (Final)

“We're all a little crazy on the inside, some are just better at hiding it than others.”

Warning: Contains graphic smut

Teaser  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15 

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I Want It Fast, I Want It Loud, I Want It My Way

a/n: THIS PICTURE FUCK. i’ve rode many of things in my lifetime. ;-) just not a thigh, so this might not be accurate but heyyyyyyyyy it’s fine. and if we’re gonna be honest here, how many of y'all actually even rode a dick? let alone a thigh hahaha.  love y'all :-) (smut warning obviously) 


I’m tired. I can feel the familiar ache in my body. I want nothing more than to go home and sleep for hours on end with no interruption. “C'mon, love, lets go.” I whine into Harry’s ear. His arm that is wrapped around my hip tightens, “okay, hold on.” He absentmindedly replies. I huff out. I don’t want to hold on. What the hell am I supposed to hold on to anyways? I notice a chair on the other side of the room and I instinctively follow to it. 

 When I am seated, I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes. “Alright, up you get. It’s time to go, yeah?” Harry awakes me from my quick nap, a whine slips from my lips as I’m placed on my feet. “No.” Harry chuckles lowly as he bends down and urges me to get on my back. A sleepy smile etches on my face as I climb onto him. He stands up with ease. My head falls onto his shoulder as I fall asleep with Harry’s scent lingering around me. 

 * 

 It’s hot. I can feel sweat seeping through my shirt. 

My eyes open and adjust to the darkness. The clock reads three-thirty A.M., I can hear Harry’s breathing next to me. It’s relaxing. His arms are pulled under his pillow as he lies his head on it, curly hair flopping over. His mouth is slightly ajar, and I can’t help but look at his lips. They are such a nice shape, they’re so pink and full. The shirt I have on is soaked through with sweat as I peel it off my scorching body. The cool air soothes my skin and I sigh with relief. 

With my head back onto my pillow, I continue to stare at sleeping Harry. How can one human have so much beauty to them? Not just his looks either, he has a beautiful soul as well. My eyes skim back to his lips. God, his lips. If only they were kissing me right now. Down my neck, onto my collar bone. Biting and nipping, leaving a hickey in its place. 

 I play with the idea of waking him up just to do that, but he needs his sleep. When I make up my mind to be a good girlfriend, I groan and roll over. I hate that I’m a good person sometimes. My head is still spinning with the thought of Harry kissing me all over as I close my eyes and try to sleep. Minutes pass before I huff out and grab my phone. 

Looks like I’m not going to be sleeping tonight. One perk of having a famous boyfriend is that I can look up smut about him and totally try it the next time we have sex. And that’s what I do. I head over to my Tumblr app and type in “Harry Styles smut”. The first thing that pops up is an ask. The ask reads “OKAY but imagine riding harry’s thigh i Am HURT. You would grind down on him and it would hit your clit just right and his hands would leave marks on your hips and he could feel you soaking through his jeans, and he just gets off to you getting off FUCK”. 

 Okay what in the hell is thigh riding and why am I so wet now? My mind starts racing after smut with thigh riding involved. I’ve never heard of thigh riding, but I’m already liking it. I stay up a few more minutes, maybe hours, who really knows? Looking at smut that includes thigh riding. I’m aching for the feeling of it right now. My internal conflict is raging inside me and I think I have to wake Harry. The sleeping boy next to me looks so peaceful. How could I wake him up just to ride his thigh? I can feel myself pulsing for this feeling. “Fuck.” I groan out, I can’t wait any longer. My hand starts to shake his sleeping body, “Harry.” All he does is let out a soft groan. This is going to be harder than I thought. With a swift pull from the covers, both of our bodies are uncovered. 

Harry is naked from his hips up and he looks fucking great. The tattoos sprawled across his toned body never looked so appealing in my life. I want to run my tongue over everyone of them. Black  shorts that were around my hips fall off with a swift motion from my arms, my underwear following. Fire is in my veins. Harry visibly shutters from the loss of the covers but I climb on top of him to bring him warmth.

 "Y/N?“ He mutters, his voice raspier and deeper from sleep. Fuck, I’m literally dripping for this green eyed man. “Baby, I want to try something..” I say while unleashing kisses to his jaw and neck. “At-” He stops to check the time, “5:47 in the morning?” Huh, guess I was looking at smut longer than I thought. “Yes baby, please, I’m literally dripping for you. Plus, you have to get up an hour anyways for work.” I moan out, I can already feel his erection through his pajama pants. “Well if you insist.” He smirks. “What did you want to try?” He sits up holding me in his lap. My legs are by each of his hips and his large hands are roaming my back, hips, and thighs. “Well it’s kinda weird, but I really want to try it.” I tug my lip into my teeth, nervously awaiting his response. “Yeah? What’s it then love?” “Well- I- just- let me show you. Take off your pants.” I instruct with a shaky voice, he obliges as he lifts me off his lap. He is left in his tight boxer briefs. 

I manage to mount back onto his lap, positioning myself over his left thigh. “What’re you doing babe?” Harry asks me with puzzlement in his eyes. “Just..” I moan out as I begin to move hips on his lap. The contact of my clit to his thin boxers form incoherent moans. Harry’s hands move to my hips, gripping them. “Oh so you like thigh riding, huh?” Harry’s voice is like gravel on a road sending me to move faster as his hands insinuate rapid movements. My head nods feverishly as he moves me faster. I feel his lips attach to my breasts, sucking lightly. 

Curls are in my hands as I rock back and forth in his thigh. Cotton boxers against my clit work expertly together with the collaboration of my movements and Harry’s lips. Pleasure is racing through me leaving a beating heart and restless moans. Thoughts are construed in my mind as I try to piece together all the overwhelming things that are enveloping around me. Fuck, I’m so close. “Harry…” I moan out and he gets the hint. His inked hands grip my love handles tighter and my moves pick up pace as we move with the rhythm of an imaginary tempo. “Come for me.” Harry barely whispers in my ear as he adds a nibble to my ear lobe and before I can stop myself, I am sent over the top. An orgasm rattles through me with blacked out vision and shaking hands. Spearmint surrounds me as my head collapses into Harry'a shoulder. “I didn’t know you were into that.” Harry’s voice flows out to me and I laugh, “Yeah I didn’t either.” The clock now reads six-fifteen. 

Before Harry can react, I roll off of him and fall into my spot on our bed. The covers are pulled up over me, I hum in response. “Get some sleep, my angel.” Are words I hear before I drift off.