bee writes fanfic

Unwritten

Prompt 44 of @oqpromptparty: Regina picks up the newest book by her favorite writer. Another best  seller that she can’t get enough of. What she doesn’t realize is that  the heroine from those books is inspired by her and the books were  written by her sweet, handsome but oh so shy (at least in RL) neighbor  Robin.


The package arrives around noon, delivered to the stables along with her afternoon charges all fitted out in their riding helmets and little boot Grace is among them, and baby Neal, who’s only just started to toddle but had been riding like a champ (with ample assistance, of course) for two weeks now. Rarely do Regina’s thoughts ever stray from the job she adores—but today is definitely one of those days.

 Another in a long line of Huntingdon’s masterpieces, Unwritten has all the trademark flair we’ve come to associate with him—yet in many ways it’s unlike any of his novels before. 10/10 would recommend!

 Fantastic—in all senses of the word!

 An epic battle played out in one remarkable woman’s heart. Huntingdon’s heroine is stunning in every way.

 Oh, she can’t wait to rip the paper off of this one, pour herself a glass of wine, and read through the night.

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A Bee-autiful Day

Summary: Based on, and in return for, the wonderful art by @journalanxiety!! Sorta an accidental collab I guess? Logicality have a lovely adventure at the park, because of bees!

Warnings: bees? Mild swearing. Small food mention. Patton’s puns. Feel free to tell me to add anything!

Word Count: 682

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

A/N: The puns… I’m sorry.

Shout out again to @sortablue! She’s completely amazing and always helps me make my fics a trillion time better!

~ ~ ~

“Looooooogan! You won’t bee-lieve what I have here!”

“Due to your language, I assume something to do with bees?”

“That’s right, honey!”

Sighing, Logan lowered his book and stood. Turning around, he saw Patton holding his hands behind his back, his face lit up mischievously.

“So, what do you have, my love?”

“Well…. close your eyes and put your hands out!”

Sighing again, he obeyed, and felt something soft being placed into his grasp.

“Now… open up!”

Opening his eyes, Logan’s gaze fell upon a shirt with horizontal black and yellow stripes. Looking at Patton, his romantic partner was holding a white shirt, with the phrase “Bee Happy” showing, a bee trailing away from the words up to the right shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Awww Logan! Do you like them?”

Taking a closer look at his own, his smile widened. “They certainly are pleasing.”

“Get changed! We’re going out!”

Logan let out a laugh. “Of course, honey.”

“Logan!”

“Wait, I didn’t mean- shit!”

Logan changed into the black and yellow top, and met Patton by the front door.

“Logan! You look un-bee-lievably cute in that!”

“It’s lucky that this makes you so happy or I wouldn’t be participating.”

“Sureeee!” Patton drew the word out, and winked. “Now, let’s go!”

- - -

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!”

Logan sighed for the third time today. “Ok,” he said. “I trust you.” Patton started to squeak, flustered, but Logan hurried on. “As long as it doesn’t involve Roman!”

“What’s wrong with Roman, kiddo?”

“Not much… I am just not in the mood to deal with his antics.”

“What about my antics?” Patton asked. “They might be worse than Roman’s!”

Logan gave his partner a look that said everything, and Patton giggled, entwining his hand with the others.

“We’re almost here, I’m buzzing with excitement to show you!”

Ignoring the pun, Logan realised he knew their surroundings. Patton had taken a different route in the hopes Logan wouldn’t guess their destination, but to no avail.

“Patton, we are going to the park, correct?”

“That’s right! You’re so smart, Logan, figuring it out!”

“Not particularly, but I will bypass that and move on to my next question, why the park?”

“You’ll see in a second!”

Pulling him along, Patton opening the wooden gate and they entered. Instead of going to the benches, or the play area, Patton headed for the woodland area past everything else.

As they reached their destination, the sound of buzzing filled his ears, and Logan gasped.

“Patton, did you bring me to… a bee hive?”

“You got it!” Patton’s voice was hushed, trying not to disturb the bees. “I even have my Epi-Pen!”

“But these aren’t any normal bees! These are rusty patched bumble bees! They’ve declined by 87 percent in the last 20 years! Hell, they were put on the endangered list last year! What a find! Patton!”

Turning, Logan embraced his partner. Patton laughed, and hugged him back.

“I’m glad you’re happy Lolo! But look what else!”

Trotting over to a nearby tree, he plucked a basket from behind it. “I snuck down earlier! I have your camera, and bee cookies!”

“Patton…”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I don’t… I don’t bee-lieve I deserve you.”

Patton turned bright red, and the smile on his face grew ear to ear.

“Logan, you’re the sweetest!”

A couple of moments of silence ensued, staring at each other, hopelessly in love. Then Patton spoke again.

“Well, get to it Lolo! Take the photos you want, and…” He rummaged into the basket and produced a blanket. “I’ll get everything ready!”

Logan smiled, picked up the camera, and went back to the hive. He took photo after photo, managing to get some close ups of individual bees, and the hive itself, nestled in the hollow of a tree.

Afterwards, they ate all the cookies Patton had prepared and as always, they were delicious. Patton and Logan lay together in the summer sun, content and in love.

Btw Patton and Logan both proposed to each other at the same time in that park years down the line fite me.

Taglist:

@sortablue @teacupfulofstarshine @shesavampirequeen @arandompasserby @sanderssides-deathangel @entpscarleharrrr @kittengiggles-puppysnuffles @ab-artist @virgilisaneternalmood @my-oc-sucks @whatcanisay-imafan-der @a-used-piece-of-foil @dark-kestrel

‘BMBLB’

[Scene: Yang and Zwei sitting on the couch together.]

[Enter Blake, ninja-ing her way around the room. Hiding behind the bookshelf, a plant, et cetera and hopping around unnoticed.]

Blake: *pounces at Yang, rubbing her shoulder and face against Yang*

Yang, confused: WHY THOUGH?

Blake: You smell like DOG! *hops out of the room*

[Yang and Zwei look at each other. Yang rolls her eyes and Zwei grumbles]

Yang: It’s okay, pup! I’m certain she really likes you… *pet’s Zwei’s head*

Zwei: BORK!

\/\/\/\/\/

[Scene: Yang and Blake seated on the couch. A soda can sits on the coffee table.]

[Blake’s hand inches closer and closer to the can.]

Yang: Blake, no!

[Blake draws her hand back and waits; She moves her hand toward the can again, eyeing Yang the whole time.]

Yang: BLAAAAAKE!!

Blake: Sorry! *pulls hand back again, maintaining eye contact.*

[Blake knocks the can over. Yang face-palms]

\/\/\/\/\/

Blake: I think that’s the worst part…

Yang: About what, Babes?

Blake: I keep thinking that… if I was a tuna…

Yang: …that you would eat yourself?

Blake: I WOULDN’T EVEN QUESTION IT!!!

\/\/\/\/\/

[Scene: Yang lying in bed]

[Blake bursts in, hops onto bed Yang is in, climbs over her and gropes her a bit.]

Yang: [loudly whispering] BLAKE WHAT THE HECK? RUBY’S HERE! WEISS TOO!

Blake: Relax, I’m just getting my spot ready! Don’t move!

[Blake proceeds to knead Yang’s stomach and chest, then falls asleep on top of her.]

Yang: Well I can’t move now. It was nice knowing you all. They will find me dead under this cat.

[Blake purrs loudly. Yang smiles at her.]

Yang: Well, at least she’s cute…

[Blake kneads Yang’s abs in her sleep.]

Yang: Geez, Kitty Cat, are you making bread? OW! NOT WITH THE CLAWS!
\/\/\/\/\/
\/\/\/\/\/
\/\/\/\/\/

Day Sixteen: RWBY Chibi

Blake doing cat stuff and Yang suffering, mostly.

Just a bunch of Bees shenanigans, primarily based on Daikon Cosplay’s Bumbleby videos, along with a few random fanart pieces. I haven’t seen much of Chibi lately, so I hope none of these have already been done. XD

A tad late to the party, but oh well. Since I’m wide awake now, I’ll get started on today’s fic.

Scorch Marks In the Sky

It’s here! But before we get right to it, a little author’s rambling.

For a fresh start, this particular version of our soul mates sure has quite a lot of very unique baggage to deal with. Add their darkness to the mix, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for some of the angstiest angst (and between us, that’s saying something). Now, I love me some angst, make no mistake…but I also figure this is supposed to be our happy place, right? So I guess I’ve been trying to find the balance…and this is what came of it. Enjoy! :)


At least it’s a clear night, a myriad stars blinking down upon the kingdom under the black vault of the sky. The Regina of old used to dream by them, the Evil Queen plot under their squinting eye, and this Queen Regina of fresh starts has a newfound appreciation for these tiny lights in the dark.

The fires, not so much.

A flaming line snakes through the courtyard, poorly concealed under the domes of bare-limbed, half-dead trees.

Regina, face turned towards the heavens, lets it be for now.

It started three days ago with the first angry mob raising their pitchforks against her for supposedly murdering their king and queen. So much for blank slates. At the time it seemed rather like a small nuisance, a minor issue she could easily solve with a flick of her wrist. A spark here, a flicker there—sometimes she’d even wait for one to catch, let it feed on the battered rooftops and spawn more frisky flames to lick at the ramshackle remains she calls, for lack of a better term, home. Never enough to burn the place to ashes, but one must turn negatives into positives somehow, and she supposes she’d always had a penchant for playing with fire.

The problem is these villagers don’t know when to give up and go back to their pathetic peasant lives— lives she’s graciously deigned to let them keep despite the trouble they’ve given her. They’re relentless. With each vanquished threat to her poor excuse of a castle, the attacks only grow more vicious. The brunt of them comes, whether as a matter of tactics (hoping to catch her defenceless in her sleep or trying to rob her of sleep?), or necessity (common folk have work to do by day after all), or perhaps just for effect, by night.

She knows she can fend them off—be it protective enchantments or incantations or spouting jets of water from the palms of her hands. It’s not that she cannot stand her ground against them, even though admittedly doing so without causing them serious harm—because that’s the person she is now, isn’t she, darkness and light interwoven—has proven quite the challenge.

And then there’s the heart-rending incident from this morning.

At this point, Regina is just…tired.

And is any of this really even worth it?

The castle hardly lives up to its name these days. Hell, Regina barely recognised the place when she first chose to claim it. As the plaque commemorating the downfall of this realm’s Evil Queen so proudly boasts, measures had been taken to strip this once symbol of terror of its power. Instead of the grotesque, spiky skyline, a single spire juts out where only stumps of the rest stand pathetically like stems whose flowers had been nipped off. The outer walls had been razed to the ground, and the marble chambers and halls are riddled with debris.

Why bother fixing up the place when she’s clearly not welcome in this land?

The eerie cheers of the angry villagers seem distant from her vantage point as torches soar up in the air and dent the aged slates.

Tonight won’t be quite the lazy stargazing rendezvous she’s planned—if Robin shows up at all.

Continue on FF.net

Birthday Breakfast

A/N: some rushed birthday fluff/smut I started at 2AM after a panic attack? A little late, but Happy birthday, Steve!
_____________________________________

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Warnings: language, smut, dirty talk, oral, hand job, slight hair pulling bc Bucky’s locks are luscious, morning sex. I can’t write, but at least I’m posting something.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.

Bucky noses along Steve’s jaw, causing him to crinkle his nose and grumble lowly. Steve’s never been a morning person, and Bucky’s lips curl into a fairly adoring smile as he presses a wet kiss to the side of his face. Steve tugs the blankets up further in response, batting a hand lazily in Bucky’s general direction without having to open his eyes.

“You gonna keep actin’ like a punk or can I give you a proper birthday present?” Bucky asks amusedly as he leans back onto his heels, perched at the side of the bed, hovering over Steve. The bed creaks and groans in protest as he moves.

Steve licks his lips and clears his throat a bit before cracking an eye open to glare back at the grinning face in front of him. Bucky’s not usually so overly joyous, and it’s equal parts weird as it is cute, he thinks absently. “I don’t want a birthday present, I want sleep, Buck,” Steve mumbles tiredly, unable to fight the tiny smile that fought its way to his lips.

“What, you gonna refuse pancakes and kisses from me now?” Bucky’s tone is mock offense, raising an eyebrow at him just to add to it.

Steve chuckles softly as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I have to wake up before I can get hungry,” Steve chides and Bucky huffs indignantly as he leans over Steve again, placing his metal arm on the other side of Steve as he catches his lips in a quick kiss.

“I can wake you up.”

Steve hums, letting Bucky’s mouth continue down over his jaw and neck. It’s feather light and teasing, all the things that drives Steve crazy and gets him rutting against Bucky and tilting his neck towards him for more. “Oh yeah?” Steve asks, even though it’s not a question he needs an answer to. He already knows.

Bucky hums back a ‘mhmm’ as he sucks on the skin between Steve’s shoulder blade and neck, slowly sliding himself over until he’s awkwardly straddling Steve’s hips. Steve lets his head fall back against the pillows again and closes his eyes, letting Bucky’s mouth work at his skin until it’s practically on fire. The feeling of his lips against him makes his skin feel like fireworks and it’s like nothing anyone else has ever given him. He thinks it might be how filthy Bucky’s always been, murmuring low and filthy things into Steve’s ear, making him blush all the way across his chest. It’s ridiculous, but before Bucky, Steve’s Sex life had been strictly vanilla.

Bucky pulls back to look at Steve’s face, grinning smugly as he does, and Steve feels himself blush a little. “Feel good, Cap?” He teases, running his hand down over the expanse of Steve’s chest.

“Shut up,” Steve mutters back and Bucky chuckles.

“You gonna make me?”

Steve nearly chokes when Bucky’s hand squeezes at his covered dick as he asks, and Bucky’s got that God forsaken, shit eating grin on that hasn’t ever meant anything good for anyone. He looks to the side, just to avoid having to look at him anymore. He doesn’t need to fuel it by showing how hot his face is. Bucky’s never let anything go in his life, constantly talking about how cute Steve is in the bedroom drives him crazy.

“How about you just do something that doesn’t involve talking so much,” Steve offers back and that’s when Bucky presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to Steve’s stomach, just below his bellybutton, and he sucks in a breath, his hand automatically grasping at Bucky’s hair.

“Sir, yes sir,” Bucky mocks as he slowly kisses down towards the band of Steve’s boxers. Steve wonders if he should start dressing down fully for bed, just to fuck with him. Bucky takes way too much joy in playing with his exposed skin.

Bucky grinds down a little and Steve bites his lip, fingers tangling where his hand is resting in Bucky’s hair. He can feel the round curve of Bucky’s ass through Buck’s own -entirely too tight to be normal- boxers. He lets it rub down over his dick, already stiff from waking up. It’s a 'thing’, according to Bucky anyways, and a thing Bucky enjoys way too much.

Bucky teases along his stomach for a while, kissing and sucking around the line of his boxers and hip. Steve puts up with it for a while too, before the feelings stop being calming so much as causing him to squirm as each touch goes straight to his dick. Steve tugs a little, without really meaning to, and what isn’t as surprising as Steve would have thought it was a few months ago, Bucky moans. It’s a soft, breathy grunt, really. It’s all Steve really needs though, as he tugs again, raising his hips up at the same time.

“Greedy bastard,” Bucky grumbles as he slides down, nestling himself between Steve’s spread legs. He hooks his thumb under the band of Steve’s underwear, the metal of his finger cool against his hot skin. Steve shivers involuntarily, working his hips up to meet the touch, to edge Bucky closer. It doesn’t exactly work, but the way Bucky’s right hand grips his hip is satisfying anyways.

Bucky’s good at leading, pushing Steve around and getting what he wants, it’s what Bucky’s good at in general, the bedroom aside.

He slips his hand into Steve’s underwear, finally, and slowly wraps his hand around the curve of Steve’s cock, thumb flicking over the head to smear the bead of precum that had been gathering there. “Shit,” Steve breathes, hips jerking slightly as Bucky continues to slowly stroke the length of Steve’s dick, fingers grazing over his balls and up his shaft as he continues to stroke him. It’s not long before Steve’s fucking into his hand, hips canting up to meet every twist of Bucky’s wrist. Steve’s just kind of breathing out long strings of obscenities at this point, making Bucky chuckles. He’s breathing fast and hard through his open mouth, panting soft little gasps of 'more’ and 'fuck yeah’ as he gets closer to release.

“You gonna come, Stevie?” Bucky asks breathily as he palms himself a bit, still stroking long and even along Steve’s leaking cock. There’s a bit of a teasing hint behind Bucky’s voice, even now, and it makes Steve bite his lip between his teeth in frustration. Bucky’s so damn cocky, and he can’t ever get the upper hand here. Steve plays his roll in the bedroom while Bucky is the one that makes the rules.

“I’m so fucking close,” Steve whines instead, because it’s true, and the way Bucky’s talking isn’t helping. He knows what he does to Steve, there’s no point in hiding it.

Bucky grins, licking his lips and rocking back on his heels while looking Steve over. He looks starved, and that alone makes Steve fuck his hips faster against the slide of Bucky’s metal hand. “Oh yeah? That feel good?”

Steve groans, rolling his head to the side as he fights the urge to come allover Bucky’s hand before Bucky’s even really touched himself.

Bucky’s pulling his hand away before Steve gets the chance to answer, or even form a coherent sentence. An embarrassing whimper escapes his throat in response to the loss of contact and Bucky smirks. “Not yet.”

“Bucky, I swear to god,” Steve hisses as he starts to pull himself into a sitting position. Bucky tsks him before Steve’s even sitting up half way and is pushing him back down, tugging his boxers down around Steve’s bent knees before it even registers. Steve’s dick is hard and angry, leaking steadily now from being so close.

“Don’t you start, or I’ll happily leave you here and eat the pancakes by myself,” Bucky shrugs, giving him a devious look. “Let you take care of yourself instead.”

Steve sucks in a breath.

“Or, I could suck you off,” Bucky says like he’s only just now thinking about it. Steve downright whines at that and rolls his hips up towards Bucky, who’s hovering roughly a foot above Steve’s cock.

He’s pretty sure if he doesn’t get Bucky’s lips around him within the next ten seconds, he might actually die. Or, maybe just have to jack himself off, because fuck, he’s so close and Bucky’s pushing right now.

“Your choice,” Bucky says as Steve grips his hair tighter and tugs, pulling him just enough he really gets it. That’s all it takes before Bucky’s swallowing down Steve’s cock, moaning and licking around the swollen head, tongue swiping along the underside of his prick and humming around it. Bucky’s good with his mouth, and the way he grips Steve’s hips while he takes him in his mouth is enough to make him come right then and there.

Steve groans, bucking his hips up to fuck into his mouth harder and faster, panting through his parted lips as he gets closer, gasping and whining as Bucky licks the precum beading at his tip with every thrust of Steve’s hips and bob of Bucky’s head. The patterns quickly getting lost in Steve’s frantic movements but Bucky keeps going, groaning around him. “Fuck, Bucky,” Steve breathes, watching Bucky’s right hand disappear between his own legs where he starts working himself in his spit slick palm.

It’s not long after that Steve’s pulling the locks of Bucky’s hair in his hands, pushing him further down onto his cock as he comes. Bucky sputters a little, without any warning, but swallows what he can before continuing to suck him off until Steve’s practically begging for him to stop, too sensitive and tired now. Bucky smirks and pulls off of Steve’s spent dick. The way it all had Bucky’s hips going, Steve’s pretty sure Bucky came too.

There’s come glistening a little on Bucky’s lips, and some at the corner of his mouth too, he looks debauched and fucking gorgeous like this Steve whines at the sight. He can’t help it.

Bucky’s still panting when he licks the remainder of Steve’s seed from his mouth, raising an eyebrow at him as he asks simply, “So breakfast, birthday boy?”

Let it Bee

Second part to Bees Sting, there will be more!

Negan x Bee (reader’s nickname)

1700 words

Warnings ~ Negan language, sexual innuendo, Bee’s mental illness

If you want to be tagged, or asked to be tagged and I didn’t, please let me know!

@negans-network, @ladyhawk4133, @jenniegs, @memphisgirl1977, @mwesterfeld1985

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Bold of You

Summary~ The team correctly guesses Spider-Man’s identity after Tony goes Proud Dad Mode, but Peter manages to convince them they’re wrong.


The mission had been a resounding success. The whole team was back together and working like a well-oiled machine. Bruce had gotten to stay back on the Quinjet instead of dragging the Hulk out. No civilians had been too badly injured or killed, and there wasn’t any structure damage done that Tony couldn’t throw money at to fix. Peter had even saved the day with another one of his clever plans and movie references. All in all, Tony was having a great time. Maybe that’s why when Spider-Man flipped in to stand next to him, he turned to him with a blinding smile, clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Way to go, kid.”

Silence fell over the rest of the gathered Avengers. A silence that was thick and slippery and wrapped itself around Tony’s lungs until he turned back to them and cleared his throat. “What are you gaping like that for?”

Steve was the first one to scrape his jaw off the pavement and pop his eyes back in their sockets. “Peter? Peter Parker is Spider-Man?”

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evilqueens  asked:

for the ask prompts: oq - 8 <3

This has been sitting in my inbox for anywhere between a truly shamefully long time and an eternity, right? I promise I absolutely love getting prompts, and loved filling this one, too. Thank you for sending it, and I hope the result’s worth the wait!


Sometimes Robin wonders what kind of sorcery it is that draws him to the Queen with such relentless, irresistible, unfathomable force.

More often nowadays, he simply succumbs to the feeling: the attraction, the remarkable sense of kinship, the desire to see more of the complex woman under the armour—all of it. Following his heart, his gut, his instincts, has always served him rather well after all. So he no longer tries to resist the mysterious pull.

But oh does she ever. Fights it tooth and nail, attacks  it with rage and bile and haughtiness, staves it off with cold indifference, hurling jagged words and piercing looks his way in a valiant effort to deny the undeniable.

All for nought.

All she accomplishes—all they accomplish, for Robin, much as he craves her company, removes himself from it when she so wishes—is a brief respite as they drift (tear themselves, more accurately) apart before they inevitably come back together time and time again.

Tonight she’s in his arms once more—Regina, just Regina when they’re like this, body and soul bared before the other. She’s quiet, pensive, that perpetual cloud of wistfulness ever hanging over her as her fingers ghost over his arm in swirling patterns chased by shiver after shiver. She’s present enough to catch them despite her mind clearly wandering, for he feels her blink rapidly with each pleasant shiver of his, her long lashes tickling his chest. Robin breathes her in, the cinnamon clinging to her skin and the faint whiff of apple from those dark, luxurious locks he can’t but card his fingers through over and over again, scratching her scalp just so and feeling rather than hearing her content sigh. He tries not to think of what will inevitably follow—what always follows—these precious moments that are much too few and far between.

If you ask him, that is.

Regina on the other hand seems to be of the opinion they’re entirely too frequent.

“This needs to stop,” she says even as she buries her nose into the crook of his neck in what she’d no doubt deny is a nuzzle.

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sunsets are proof that endings can be beautiful too

AO3 | FF.NET

The meaning of night changes within a span of hours. 

It starts off with a quiet, Friday evening after a busy, draining week. Marinette sits on her balcony with a mug of hot chocolate warming her fingers, a blanket draped over her shoulders. Tikki is hidden where the blanket is the warmest. 

She’s exhausted from having to stop one of the newer heroes, Queen B as she calls herself, from impulsively revealing her civilian name. You’d think it’d be obvious that a secret identity is meant to be secret. 

Within her first week as a superheroine, Queen B has already aggravated every akum they’ve come in touch with. Marinette would be close to anger, if it weren’t for the remorseful look in her eyes as she realized she messed up yet another attack.

Sue Marinette for being sympathetic, but she’s been in that position before. Queen B’s own realization at her failures continuously reminds her of the day Marinette had almost given up on being a superheroine. 

Plus, it didn’t hurt that Queen B’s antics were endearing more often than not, or that when she thought no one was looking, her lips would turn down into an adorable pout. 

It’s while she’s deep in her reflections over one of her new teammates when she finds herself suddenly staring at the real thing, jumping in her seat enough to spill her thankfully cooled hot chocolate all over her hand. 

“Shit,” she mutters in a low voice while staring at her partner. 

Queen B stands tall with a smirk planted on her face, her pose regal. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Something about the way she calls her name feels familiar, an itching at the back of her mind that Marinette can’t exactly put her finger on. 

“You’re the new superheroine,” Marinette greets, hoping her voice sounds awed. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Queen B absolutely preens as Marinette speaks, the familiarity in her pose edging it’s way into Marinette’s mind. “But of course. Who wouldn’t be excited to see me?”

Marinette has to bite back a giggle at her words, refusing to show how entertained she is by the current direction of the exchange. It was nice to see that Queen B at least knew when to turn off her switch and actually focus. 

“I fear I’ll faint at the mere excitement,” she tacks on, doubling her efforts to hide back her grin as Queen B seemed to glow. “After all, I’m sure I’m the first one to be visited by you.”

“What if I was to say you are?”

“Well, I’d be very very delighted.”

Marinette hopes she isn’t overdoing her excitement, but from the way Queen B’s eyes bore into her through her mask, it doesn’t seem like it. 

Queen B continues to stare at her for a minute, something charged about her gaze before she finally speaks. When she finally does, her voice is a lot softer. 

“If I was to do something stupid right now, would you let me?”

She seems to fold in on herself, her shoulders curled downward and head tilted towards the ground. Marinette finds her heart stuttering at the sight. 

“Only if you let me do something stupid in returns,” she responds, savoring the way Queen B’s head shoots up to stare in surprise. 

The surprise wears off slowly as the heroine slowly gains her confidence back, her smirk returning as she walks towards Marinette. 

Her heart stutters as the Queen B’s shadow falls directly over her, her hands resting on the armrest. The sun sets behind Queen B, making it look like her body was nothing more than a silhouette outlined by ethereal light. 

It’s exactly this thought running through her head that makes Marinette turn her head when Queen B leans down to press a kiss against her cheek. 

Queen B freezes as soon as Marinette’s lips press against her, causing Marinette to panic. They stay locked in that position for close to a minute, trying their hardest to not breathe. 

And then Queen B sighs into Marinette and leans in, tilting her head for better access. Her hands move towards Marinette’s head, cupping her jaw into her palms. Marinette finds herself edging forward in her chair, just a little bit, until she’s close enough to nudge Queen B closer. In turn, Queen B plops herself into Marinette’s lap. 

They separate when the sky’s completely dark, chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths. Queen B’s sky blue eyes bored into Marinette with adoration that warms her to the core. They’re nothing like Chloe’s: sharp, icy, and intense enough only to strike the receiver with anger. 

“Is it alright with you if I come back tomorrow?” Queen B asks after they’ve spent too long just drinking the sight of each other in. Marinette’s shoulders slump. 

“You can’t.” As soon as Queen B’s smile begins to drop, Marinette hastens to elaborate. “I mean, you can but I won’t be here because I have prior engagements.” 

“I see,” Queen B replies, scrambling to get up. Marinette’s hands immediately grip her waist to immobilize her. 

“I have to hang out with the mayor’s daughter,” she blurts out. When Queen B blinks in surprise, she adds, “It’s for a project but knowing the way we interact, it’ll last a long time. You can still come by a little later if you’d like.”

Queen B’s smirk grows as she stares at Marinette, confusing the hell out of her. “Maybe I will.”

She parts with a kiss pressed to Marinette’s cheek, ignoring the way she looked at her in confusion. “Tomorrow, then!”

Once the superheroine disappears from sight, Marinette finds Tikki staring up at her with a wide smile. 

“She wasted all my hot chocolate, Tikki,” she complains to her kwami, ignoring the way she savored the taste of pumpkin spice chap-stick on her lips. 

bloody-bee-tea  asked:

"Is there a reason you're gnawing on me?" For sterek maybe?😇😊

This is perfectly acceptable. I mean it’ll be more… pre-Sterek? But I can work with this, yes siree.

*waves hands* Imagine a world where the events of S3 and onward BASICALLY DID NOT HAPPEN? Because I like to have Derek with his Pack, and also because I stopped watching within like two episodes of S4 sooo…

——

“Whassit?” Stiles groaned, pulling his cell over to his face, half asleep.

“Get your ass over here, Stilinski.”

Stiles groaned loudly, and said in a sour tone, “Don’t you usually run to Scott with your problems?”

Isaac made an annoyed noise. “Just get to the loft.”

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So my mum sent me a screenshot last night saying my story was #3 best seller in the (incredibly obscure) category. I looked this morning and it’s still #5! 

And I know it’s not much. Really, it’s not even important in the least, but I’m just really proud of myself. Not so much for the story, though I’m proud of that too, but just the fact that I finally did it! Years and years of writing and I finally did something with it. Maybe I will actually be motivated to work on my actual novels now too. 

But anyway, if you need the link again/still, you can get it here! Available in various Amazon regions. Less than the price of a coffee and lasts longer too! :3

First Thought (Logince)

“How they fuck does he look so good?”  written in the worse handwriting he had ever seen, the first thought his soulmate has about him, and the penmanship is so bad it takes a few minutes to decipher. Those words are probably the reason Roman took such care to always look his best when he was younger, but now he found comfort in his morning routine of apply makeup and gelling his hair to perfection.

Well, most days he looked good, but today he looked even worse that his soulmates handwriting. He had planned on waking up even earlier than normal to do some new makeup, so he had to reset his alarm and that’s where it went wrong. He set his alarm for 5:30 pm, not 5:30 am causing him to have to rush out of his door, barely dressed, no makeup, and unbrushed hair.

“Ok, so I might look bad, but I have emergency makeup in the car, so I should be able to do my normal amount and if traffic isn’t too bad, I should be able to get to work on time,” Roman thought as he got into his car.

It wouldn’t turn over. “What the actual fuck? Why is the world against me today?” he thought as he got out of his car and began to walk 30 minutes to work, he knew he would be late, but late was better than not showing up at all.

He started jogging and thinking, “Hey, at least I’m getting some exercise out of this,” in an attempt to be positive. The moment he thought that almost as if the fates had heard and decided to fulfill their cruel sense of humor, it started to rain.

Roman took a deep breath, turned his face to the sky and screamed, “Are you fucking serious?!?”  He was done with today, so he flopped onto the sidewalk and whispered, “I give up,”

He looked across the street and saw a man in glasses staring at him and as Roman thought, “If that nerd is judging me I am going to flip shit,” the words on his wrist began to warm up until the felt like they were burning.

The man in glasses crossed the street and when he got in front of Roman stopped and said, “Hello, I’m Logan and I wasn’t judging you. I also appear to be your soulmate,” in a friendly, but somewhat distant tone as he offered Roman his hand to help him stand up.

Roman took it and replied in a warm tone, “I’m Roman, I guess I’m your soulmate and if you think this is good looking you should see how I look when the world isn’t against me,”

Logan smiled at that and asked, “Speaking of the world being against you do you need any help?” concern clear in his tone even though he was trying to mask it.

“I would certainly enjoy a ride home if you wouldn’t mind,” Roman responded trying to be as charming as possible to make up for his first thoughts.Logan nodded and led Roman to his car. Once Roman had given Logan the directions, they struck up a pleasant conversation, the first of many.

By the time Logan dropped Roman off they had already decided on a date for Saturday. Roman smiled as he thought that is Logan found him attractive when everything went wrong then he would find Roman irresistible when he tried. He was right.

bloody-bee-tea  asked:

48 for sterek please

48. “You make me want things I can’t have.” 

This is funny because I asked my wife, @the-calvaree to write me this prompt, but with a different teen wolf pairing. It’s her fault she got me shipping it - like you and IronFalcon. ;)

—-

“There you are,” Stiles said, dropping across the table from Derek in the diner. Derek scowled at him, but it was Stiles, so of course that did nothing at all. Stiles was piling books and his laptop on the table, taking up most of the space. The waitress walked up, took one look at this, and sighed, turning away. She came back a few minutes later with another coffee, which Stiles absently thanked her for, and then shook his head when she asked if he wanted to order.

Derek watched her go, then looked back at Stiles.

“What are you doing here?”

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Bee (un)Lucky

Fifth part to the Bees Sting story.

Negan x Bee

3200 words

Warnings ~ Negan language, NSFW aesthetic, sexual situations, and period/menstruation talk

Under a cut due to NSFW aesthetic

If you want to be tagged, or asked to be tagged and I didn’t, please let me know!

@negans-network, @ladyhawk4133, @jenniegs, @memphisgirl1977, @mwesterfeld1985 @foreverplagued    @cherieann-2001

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anonymous asked:

A scenario for number 17, I was thinking maybe Cas and Dean are roommates, their usal in love but in denial thing. Cas saw dean getting out of the shower and noticed that Dean has a bee tattoo he doesn't know about. He wonders and ponders over it for a long time before finally asking Dean about it, because Dean hates bees, he is allergic too it so it make no sense.

Cont…Dean got the tattoo after the day Castiel drag him to the bee farm and orchard because it was the day he realized he was in love with Cas and he always will be

First of all, welcome back :)

Dean is utterly and he swears on all things holy, terrified of bees. He doesn't understand how can anyone, or one particular someone love them, when they literally sting. He doesn't know why he said yes to Cas when he asked Dean to take him to a bee farm. Well, what sort of son of bitch keeps bees as pets. But he could do that for his pal.

***

They are on their way, and Cas is trying to fiddle with the radio.

“We have talked about this, Cas, we have,” Dean pauses, Cas gives him his best why are you so extra all the time look but Dean continues.

“Driver picks the music and passenger shuts his cake hole,” Dean continues.

“We have been listening to Led Zeppelin and mullet rock for 2 hours and there is still another 2 hours of our journey left. I don’t want to reach there. You had your music for first half and I get half. You know it is a compromise.”

Dean knows, if it would have been anyone else, he would have never relented but this is Cas, who he met the first day of college, his roommate of 7 years. They have seen so much together, been through so much together. Cas was there, when John died. Dean was there, when Gabriel got married to Sam. It was weird, that Castiel’s brother married, Dean’s brother. But they were there, when Gabriel annoyed the hell out of them and Sam just sighed and looked at that buffoon with such fondness, like sometimes Dean looks at Cas. No, he is Dean’s buddy and nothing else.

Castiel has changed the music and it is the mixed tape that Dean had given him some time back. YOU CAN GIVE YOUR FRIENDS MIX TAPES. Movies ruin everything, Dean thinks.

***

They reach the bee farm and there is an older man, Cain who takes them around. It is beautiful and it smells wonderful, like sometimes Cas does, Dean’s mind supplements. 

His mind had been running amok for some time now, he looks and there is Cas, with a bumblebee in his hand. There is a certain love, that reflects in his eyes, the kind of shine you get when you see something you love, the glint of curiosity. It is amazing. 

And it hits him, hits him like that one time, when he was playing football and the defence line backer, hit him with a force of a hurricane. He had been blindsided then and he is blindsided now. How can he not see, the love that was right in front of him.

Most of the trip goes in Dean reigning his emotions and not looking at Cas. He can’t he would give away. He knows Cas doesn’t feel that way about him, He is too straight forward to not tell him. 

Cas can see his mood slip up but chooses not to say anything. 

***

The weekend after, Dean goes and get a bumble bee near his heart. He wants to acknowledge and remember that this love is forever close to him. To know that his love is without expectation and even if he never get’s Cas he had loved truly.

***

It has been 4 months since the bee farm, when Cas goes in Dean’s room to get a pair of shorts because he had not done his laundry. He wonders how long before Dean get’s fed up of him. His absentmindedness. He wishes he knew the answer. The last seven years have been amazing, their non- relationship relationship withstanding.

Dean is coming out of the washroom and Cas looks at him, a bumble bee on his chest and he can’t believe that it is there. He is flabbergasted and he just stares.

Dean clears his throat.

“Sorry, carry on, I didn’t see anything there,” And he runs and runs. 

***

Dean hates bees, he always tells Cas this, whenever he talks about his future plans, after he retires from teaching. He wants to do what Cain does. 

So, why does he have bumble bee on him, it would only make sense if Dean either likes bees or something or someone other than bees. He knows his brother and Sam both tease them about being a couple and never admitting. He loves Dean with all his heart and have never been able to hold on to a relationship because Dean was always there in the back of his mind, he compared and he compared.

***

Cas returns home, and Dean is on the couch, watching Netflix, his favourite movie, tombstone, which Cas also can recite line by line, insufferable Dean has made him watch it. 

He is furious. They could have been together if not for both of them.

He stands in front of Dean, and grips him by his shoulder and lifts him off the cough and crashes his lips against Dean’s.

Dean is stunned but slowly, the kiss becomes, a kiss, not a battle of dominance by Castiel. 

“You, stupid, insufferable  man, how long?” Castiel breathes against him.

“Bee farm, I realised, always I think,” Dean mumbles.

“I love you,” Cas confesses, a whisper, a finality of knowing, of fitting together. Dean grips him tighter and hums.

The End

Unique In All the World

Prompt 89 of @oqpromptparty​: Just like she did with Henry when he was younger, Regina shows Roland how to garden, and he insists on having his own plant to take care of.


Life in the nap of nature has forged a unique bond between the little boy and the great outdoors, but gardening is a realm entirely unexplored. An outlaw’s path doesn’t exactly favour putting down roots at any one place–a basic requirement when it comes to raising plants.

Roland, however, is a fast learner, and enthusiastic beyond compare.

“But how can a flower be tamed?” he giggled when Henry explained about his own special rose, grown and nurtured exclusively by him (except of course that loathsome time he’d been gone from home and Regina watered the plant with equal parts water and tears) since he was about Roland’s age.

It only took one reading of their old, dog-eared copy of The Little Prince for him to beg for his own plant.

Except Roland’s flower of choice isn’t a rose. It isn’t even a violet, lily, or marigold, or any of the endless list of flowers Regina offers him. Nor do any of the wide selection of shrubs or trees spark any particular interest in him.

No–Roland’s plant of choice is a dandelion.

It doesn’t matter that they’re considered a weed, or that for the first time after a decade-long war waged against the yellow nuisance there’s finally not a single one to be found in Regina’s garden. They unearths one specimen on the sidewalk two streets down, dig it up with utmost care, and plant it in a sunshine yellow pot much to Roland’s delight.

And then they google.

Regina’s desperate search for tips to keep her garden from being overrun turns up an unexpected amount of information on the various uses and benefits of the dandelion–even in a garden.

They plunge into experiments headfirst. Robin, it turns out, brews a delicious tea of the flowerheads, which the Merry Men used to collect in the wild. Thanks to his mischievous streak, the entire family spend most of the night queuing for the bathroom (Regina always thought the mansion had plenty, but now they’re just not enough) because they underestimated the full force of its diuretic effects and Robin conveniently forgot to set them right. After the incident, Roland starts to gigglingly refer to his dandelion by one of its many alternate names, wet-a-bed. Regina in turn decides to forego the coffee-like beverage prepared from the plant’s ground roots. Salads, on the other hand, have a roaring success especially after they learn to blanch the leaves before use.

By the end of the month, the garden boasts not one but five pots of dandelions.

“Regina,” says Roland as they toil away side by side, turning the soil with miniature shovels, “I think my flower tamed you.”

Regina wipes her brow and smiles as the precious boy pushes back his hair, leaving a brown smudge on his forehead that matches the one already painted across one dimpled cheek.

So perhaps raising dandelions is a little unorthodox, so what?

So is their little family–and still they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You know what, sweetheart?” She bops his nose affectionately. “I think you did.”

Bee Mine


Human and lonely in the bunker, Cas is cheered when a mystery craftsperson starts leaving him tiny bees.

___

This is a smol submission for DeanCas Smol Things 2018 - A smol fic by me, with smol arts by the awesome Nera_Solani.

Kindly beta’d by the delightful captainbunnicula.

___

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Bees, Domesticity, Smol Things, Fluff, Just gross fluff, Human!Cas, Dean Crochets, Sam Eats Greens, Cas is lonely

Rating: PG-13

Wordcount: 1,275

It was the middle of winter when the bees started to appear.

The first one Castiel found nestled in his favorite coffee mug, the one with tiny insects and honeycomb shapes that Sam had given him at Christmas. The small crochet bee was lucky it didn’t get a hot Sumatran-blend bath, as it wasn’t even seven a.m. and Castiel did not do mornings well.

He was tiny, slightly lumpy but charming, and Castiel had no idea where he might have come from. For some reason, he didn’t feel inclined to ask. He slipped the bee into the pocket of his sweatpants and shuffled sleepily back to his room.

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bloody-bee-tea  asked:

Three with Ironfalcon if you would be so incline?

3. “Could you be happy, here, with me?”

Takes place before The Winter Soldier. Established relationship. Watch out for the cut.

—–

Sam’s house was nice, comfortable, smaller than anywhere Tony had ever lived (not counting the year he insisted on living in a dorm and compromised with his dad on an on-campus apartment, which he had to himself).

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